Upon hearing my interest in Kingsolver’s book, a colleague at work offered to let me borrow his copy of Under the Tuscan Sun by Frances Mayes.  He told me that I would adore the lovely description of the town where Mayes bought her villa, and that she poetically lists details about mushrooms, pasta, and exquistite olive oil that would make me want to leap into the pages of the book.

My friend from work was absolutely correct.  Reading Mayes’ account of golden sunlight hitting the hills of her property certainly motivates me to save all I can towards any vacation that gets me far away from Ohio.  So far, the book is as lovely as a grown up fairy tale can be.  Originally, I was turned off by the chic-flick buzz surrounding the movie version of her story.  Now, I am spending part of my spring break curled up in my own golden room (lit by an Ikea light rather than Tuscan sun), and I am eager to find out what happens with the renovation of Bramasole.

Here is a picture on Mayes’ website about Bramasole.

Isn’t this where everyone should get to spend the summer?