Sant'Ambrogio Market

I messed up and almost stopped blogging again, although I'm not sure anyone noticed.  But it's not like I wasn't thinking about blogging, because I have been - I have a slew of open blogger windows with halves of stories about Europe and no motivation to finish any of them.  I think what makes it so difficult to really maintain a blog while studying abroad - which is seems like everyone does nowadays - is that it's a complete story that you're in the midst of.  Trying to write a post about any one thing I do in Florence is like trying to tell a story by giving you one sentence in the middle.  I keep resorting to lists. 

And postcards!  It's so ridiculous, I feel like I can only say one thing completely on them, and I really just want to write huge letters to everyone.  Maybe I should just do that, and then send a blank postcard with them.  With a list, like "strange gelato names" or "how many people called me 'little hat' today and who."  

Or "what strange things I saw at the market today":

- A lamb's head (and what I can safely assume were a collection of its comrades' brains next to it)

- Green pomegranates

- Sting rays

- Four people in the same conversation discussing honey in four languages:

Italian/German (apiarist) , Italian/French (bystander), French/English (my professor), Italian/English (me!)

- More male dogs, and thus more prominent dog testicles.  No females dogs anywhere in Florence, it seems.  I like to think that there's a sister city in Italy with only female dogs, but I have a feeling that Europe may be the canine China.

It's just so hard to write here, it seems.  I need quiet and calm to gather my thoughts and living with four girls, one of which had to be treated for anxiety before she even came on the trip, means those moments are about as rare as electric dryers or Florentines who are willing to break a twenty.