Yesterday, while wandering the Sunday morning streets of Port Townsend, a Victorian seaside village two hours west of Seattle, Jill, Daniela and I entered the screen door of a café for weekend breakfast. This quaint, well maintained, turn-of-the-century brownstone was the perfect spot to plan our day as tourists. As I carefully balanced my three shot Americano back to the weathered antique table, I made note of a rectangular sign to my right: “Home is Where your Story Begins”. This sparked a conversation that our life as a family has several beginnings. Home on native ground is the one where the majority of our time is consumed. But Jill and I both agree that Ca’ D Maestro in Montanare is very much our home as well. A hundred beginnings can easily be traced there, including the conception of the beautiful child sitting across the table from me. When I reminisce about the dozens of friends and families that have traveled half way around the world to see us in Tuscany, I realize we’ve birthed many others beginnings too. Home is not really a physical place as much as a sacred destination that holds our most treasured moments.

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