Then he holds up his novel at a bookstore signing and says, "This is my terrible idea...and standing right there is the lady who loves terrible ideas." Later in the movie, the newly-divorced Frances is standing in front of a real estate board, looking at a picture of a Tuscan villa that is for sale. Katherine, a captivating and eccentric seductress who Frances had seen and followed earlier, walks up behind her and suggests that Frances buy the villa Bramasole. Frances replies that, with the way her life had been going, buying the villa would be a terrible idea. Katherine smiles wryly and says, "Mmm, terrible idea. Don't you just love those?"
During all the times of watching the movie, I somehow did not connect the dots between that conversation and the initial quote! I absolutely relish the "Bramasole Moment" when the bus makes the the unscheduled stop in front of the villa, and Frances abruptly stops the bus. I also love the moment when the seller is wavering, and the pigeon poops on Frances' head. The longtime owner of the villa shouts, "Un segno di Dio! Un segno di Dio!" And everyone starts laughing with great joy!
A sign from God! I just love signs! I absolutely thrive on those confirmations that make you feel like the entire universe is directing your path. Years ago, right after we bought our hundred acre farm, our family began searching for the perfect house plan. We found a plan on the internet (archwaypress.com/plan #9047) that everybody loved; however, it was a three-bedroom. The house plan was named "Good Old Economy Days." Even though we really wanted a four-bedroom, we decided to buy the plan anyway. Upon returning to the website, our plan was the featured plan of the week! (It's a sign!). We noticed that the plan looked slightly different, and we saw that it had been modified to include another bedroom! (It's a sign!) Plus, there was a significant typo in the plan's name. It was entitled, "GOD Old Economy Days." Un segno di Dio! Hahaha!
My children bought me the set of plans for Christmas, and we looked forward to the day when we would build our very own "un segno di Dio" house. Nine months later, I went to the Storytelling Festival in Jonesborough, TN. On the second day of the festival, I was wearing a dress with embroidery all along the front and back. My librarian friends and I were browsing the local gift shops in Jonesborough when I saw this large white clapboard house sitting on a hill. I screamed out loud! "OH MY GOSH! There is my house!"
The ladies and I walked up to the house, which was a combination bed and breakfast/restaurant. It looked exactly like the house our family was planning to build, and I took pictures of it from all sides. We toured the house and ate our lunch at the restaurant. Although I did not want to leave, we headed back to the story tents for the afternoon storytellers. We had probably walked about three or four blocks, when a lady came up behind me and told me that I was unravelling. Somehow the embroidery thread on my dress had gotten snagged on something and half of the design in back was missing. After I stopped laughing hysterically, I decided to follow the thread back to the place where it was caught. My threaded path stopped on the front porch swing of the big white house! Un segno di Dio! Hahaha!
Unlike Frances, we never built the white clapboard house. We sold the hundred acre farm and moved into a huge two-story brick house with a swimming pool. Even though we lived there until my kids graduated high school and made many memories, I never loved that house. I called it (and still call it) "the big house." For some reason, it felt like a kind of prison to me - a self-imposed sentence of sorts. One thing I know for sure...the time that we lived there became my season without signs. We sold it the summer after our son graduated and (unbelievably) bought back the honeymoon cabin my husband built for me - twenty years and four owners later.
In the last scene, Frances offers her take on the randomness of life's choices: Any arbitrary turning along the way, and I would be elsewhere. I would be different. What are four walls anyway? They are what they contain. The house protects the dreamer. Unthinkably, good things can happen, even late in the game. It's such a surprise!
Last night, my daughter called me and said, "Mom, I found your big white house online! It's for sale, and it's in a great location! It's just like the one you have always wanted!" I laughed at her enthusiasm and told her to email me the information; however, in my heart, I totally disregarded any possibility whatsoever - a terrible idea (don't you just love those?). Hearing my somewhat dispassionate and pessimistic tone, she responded ardently, "Well, I am gonna pray for a miracle - a sign from God!"
Hahaha! I started laughing again. In that exact moment, as I was laughing, I felt a hint of the Divine - a magnified hope. Un segno di Dio! I have a piece of artwork, entitled Waiting For Signs, that someone gave me. The drawing is an odd-looking angel, a totem pole or animal (I am not sure which), some crazy numbers and/or letters, and this saying: I used to wait for a sign, she said, before I did anything. Then one night I had a dream & an angel in black tights came to me and said, You can start now & then I said is this a sign? & the angel started laughing & I woke up. Now I think the whole world is filled with signs, but if there's no laughter, I know they're not for me. Copyright 1996.
Un segno di Dio! Hahaha!
Dianne ; )
