Beautiful is her child

One of the first weeks we were here Ada pulled our full-length mirror on top of herself (no worries, only the mirror was hurt). It used to be my quick hair-and-face-check before leaving the house. People in Italy are as pretty as they are in the movies. And no one goes to the store in their sweats. If you're going out, you look like it. I think it's a good thing they've got going here.

Last week Ada and I headed to Zara to do some Christmas browsing (and wishing—sigh). The big store on dell'Indipendenza has mirror-wrapped columns throughout the first floor. While flipping through a rack I turned and caught sight of something in my hair in one of the mirrors. The something was large and white. I touched it. It was wet.

What? Whaaaat is in my hair? Did a pigeon bomb me? Baby spit-up?

No, no. Ricotta cheese. Of course.

I'm thinking about putting another mirror on my Christmas list so I don't wander outside having gone unchecked and end up at Zara with cheese in my hair again. (Although, what a tasty surprise!)

Advent Calender Day 6: Italian nut bar (from one of the Christmas Markets in town)

Christmas Song: Bring a Torch, Jeanette Isabella by Cole NeSmith