I am not a traveler. Although I thoroughly enjoyed my two weeks in Italy with the eighth graders from the charter school, I am now hopelessly behind. I had no idea that a mere two weeks translated into incredible plant growth at home. The wild mustard has taken over my perennial beds, and it has choked out my sweet little grape hyacinths. Fortunately, I recently took a spin down Circuit avenue and enjoyed the aforementioned hyacinths at the Oak Bluffs Inn.

I am always a fan of dandelions, and once again they have not disappointed me. They are strategically coming up in a bed of blooming vinca and Red Darwin tulips.

I just looked over my notes from Italy. There was so much to see that I only took note of a few gardens, as an afterthought. On the sides of the stairway up to the Capitoline Museum at the Vatican were huge trees that looked vaguely familiar. They were oleanders. I have a house plant that wouldn’t live outdoors here. It is tiny comparatively. I was amused that they were covered with the same yellow aphids that attack my plant.

Tiny campanula was coming out of the cracks in thousand-year-old walls. I do not believe I have ever seen such large roses — not the plants but the individual flowers. On the Palatine Hill there were formal box hedges surrounding roses, lavenders and rosemary. The rosemary was enormous. It can obviously live there year-round. Mine will occasionally winter-over but certainly not reliably.

Many of the museums had giant cement pots filled with olive trees, azaleas or the ever present Italian cypress trees. I think those trees impressed me the most. They are so formal and really made a statement that I vowed to do some research as to their suitability for the Vineyard. I would love to order some babies and see if I can bring them along. I always take hope in the fact that Polly Hill started the arboretum when she was 50.

One day we biked around the ancient walled city of Lucca, the birthplace of Puccini. In medieval times there was a regulation in the city on the height of one’s house towers. The rich and powerful wanted to show off so they would plant huge trees on the tops of their houses to be the tallest and best. Some things never change. Human nature for one.

Many people in the smaller towns used photinia as a hedge around their places. It was in full bloom. I gained a new appreciation for the evergreen shrub.

In Rome, I saw a flock of black and white crows. I think it is an African bird often called the Pied Crow. It is smaller than our all-black crow, and behaved like a pigeon in the city — not fearful of humans. Magpies, jays and ravens are all members of the crow family.

The Italians did not have screens on their windows. I found this rather curious given the warm climate. We had mosquitoes in our rooms at night. I loved how no one seemed in a hurry.

I got separated from the group at Cinque Terre. I was on a train with all sorts of tourists. The train had some sort of problem and the conductor announced directions in every possible language except English. Color me humbled. I think my foreign language education ended with “Where is the library?” in French.

Quite a bit of sign language and laughing happened before I found my companions.

My cell phone did not work for the entire two weeks. I was mercifully cut off from any distractions of home. I was able to glean the results of the New York primaries from a television in the hotel lobby. The smiling faces showed me who were the winners. If only that were still true. The primary season has become downright tortuous. I used to find it entertaining but now it is too terrifying. I simply am not able to identify with the hate and anger. I actually believe we have a pretty good country and I do not blame “the other” when things don’t work out for me. I continue to soldier on and hope for the best.

A happy Mother’s Day. The funny thing about grief and loss. I miss my mother more as the years pass.