EDIT: For some reason my blogging software deleted the text for this posting. I am not going to retype it one-handed on the European keyboard of my hotel's computer. Suffice it to say the wrist is broken, I'm off the Via Francigena, I'm a one-armed tourist in Rome with the other arm (my writing arm) in a sling for six weeks. On balance I count myself lucky. The business with the dogs could have turned out worse, and I was very lucky to get excellent orthopedic care in Rome on a Friday afternoon through the resourcefunless of my wife Susan, who orchestrated the whole thing in Washington. On the other hand, a revolting development. Twenty-five kilometers on the Via F. was barely enough to whet my appetite. As the Brooklyn Dodgers used to say, "Wait 'til next year."
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