Italian Capers

I began my earnest search for a new house several weeks ago. One might think that I have plenty of time as we are required to give 6 months notice before we can break our contract. Surprisingly, there aren't many houses available that meet our criteria. A Dutch woman had posted an ad for a house. We e-mailed back and forth once or twice regarding the property. That evening, the phone rang. It was her, and it felt a bit invasive. I hadn't given her my number during our exchange. I asked how she got my number and she replied, "I just looked it up." I suppose she meant the Italian phone book? We made arrangements to look at one of her listings. I knew it was a "No" from the moment I set my foot in the place, but I politely walked through the dingy rooms. I followed her diligently up the hazardous staircase, and I peered into the dark unfinished (meaning dirt floor) basement. "No, I don't need to see more of the basement," I assured her

I swear, you can take pictures in Venice with your eyes closed and they still look great! A friend of mine and I took a quick day trip (mom get-away) to Venice. It was a calm relaxing day without much of a schedule- perfect. As you can see, it wasn't very crowded. But don't worry, they were still feeding the pigeons. Nothing like a day of trying to communicate with the natives to show you how little you know. I am enrolled in an Italian II class. In theory, I am doing well. I get the verbs. I get that you can have a "masculine" table and "feminine" chair. I get all the conjugations, no problem. The biggest problem I have is knowing which syllable to stress. Seems Italians really can't recognize a word if the accent is misplaced- even a short word. Furthermore, they are so intent on guessing what you are trying to say in your "caveman" Italian, that they aren't listening to what you are saying. My french mom reminded me recently abo

I realize (as you will soon) this picture has nothing to do with this post, but what's a post without a pic? I went to H's scuola today to be the "native English speaker" who comes to read a book. While there, a little boy showed me his drawing. The white page had about seven Italian flags drawn all around it. I smiled and said something nice- in English, and then my attention was quickly drawn to the little girl playing over by the blackboard. Her pants were down to her knees and her bright green tights made her look like a renegade leprechaun. She could not have been more oblivious to the situation at hand- or at knees, if you will. I motioned to the teacher who went to help her out. Within another few minutes, that same boy with the flag drawings came over to me again. (I swear they are attracted to me like I am some sort of circus freak- and of course, I mean that in the nicest of ways to anyone who actually is a circus freak.) Anyway, he showed me his pic

My Man: "Won't it be great, when one day, something we have will break and we will be able to easily get what we need, and we can get it fixed!" Me: (dreamily) "Yeah, that will be great...and it will only take a couple of days too!" My Man: "Sometimes, we might be able to get something fixed in only one day!" Both:(chuckling)"Yeah, that'll be great." End of dream sequence, back to reality. A small chunk of metal penetrated the tire on My Man's motocicletta some time last week. He has decided to get the tire patched during the on-line search for new tires. Thus began the our circular tale. With my handy dictionary, we set off, full of hope. Our first point of contact was our landlord Perry-Angelo. I went into his office while My Man and the kiddos waited in the car. (This leads me to another thought about why I won't be the one who tells him that we are moving, but that is another post.) He knows of an AGIP gas station- in f

The Christmas spirit was high in this crazy group of little kids. There was face painting and a balloonist to add some entertainment. You didn't have to be painted as an angel or baby Jesus or anything, in fact, most of the boys went with Zorro. Try as I might, I can't find the Christmas connection there. The girls opted to be kitties, for the most part. Turn out wasn't that good, so we felt obligated to stay longer than we would have had there been a big crowd. Although, had there been a big crowd, we may have wanted to stay as well. I wish I could have taken better photos of the gift baskets available. It reminded me of a bazaar at say, a nursing home. (I realize that's an age-ist comment, and I recognize there are many fine elderly artisans....I just wanted to conjure up images of toiletpaper roll cozies and items crafted with bright yarn on looms. I do not suffer from gerontophobia , but I just love the handy and uplifting poem used to describe it.) There wer

Is it ever too late to post Christmas pics???? As many of you know by now, I certainly don't think it's too late to send out "holiday" cards. Next year, maybe I will just face reality and send out Valentine's day cards...St. Patrick's day?? Here are the girls making Reindeer dust- or some such item. It's oatmeal with glitter and it's supposed to guide the reindeer in for a safe landing....only we didn't put it on the roof. I wonder if we were supposed to? Maybe that's the problem with that rickety old satellite dish up there....it's full of reindeer pooh, I mean dust : )