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I so rarely stop reading mid-book, but I found this one to be so rambling and uninteresting and I'm at a point in life where I feel no obligation to push through such an experience, even (or especially) to please someone who thought for sure they knew what I'd like.

The prospect of buying a shambles of a house, no matter where, and restoring it, is a subject that is of tremendous interest to me. Although I'm not "traveled," I can well image that the effort of obtaining a passport, packing, and flying to the other side of the globe would be well worth it if one could buy and restore a home in the hills of Tuscany. I can even appreciate the detailed imagery a good author can summon with romantic descriptions of local flora, cuisine, and ancillary characters. Unfortunately, Mayes was unable or unwilling to craft such an exciting, titillating, adventurous memoir, and instead presents the minutiae of her adventure with over-descriptive drudgery. I found her writing to be less interesting than the plant descriptions on my Sunset Garden Book.