Italian Capers

About an hour's drive from our place, there's a butterfly hatching house. The brochure advised wearing bright colors to attract the butterflies. I should have put the girls in black. H wanted one of the butterflies to land on her, so as soon as we walked in, one landed on Z's head, of course. Z was far from amused and began swatting, ducking and the ever-popular evasive tactic- crying. Luckily for the beautiful winged insect, her hand-eye coordination isn't very good. She wanted to leave immediately, so I had to coax her and carry her while I sped through the exhibit. I missed all of the educational signage, but I did get her to stop and look at the Chameleon, and the bat hanging from the ceiling. There were hundreds of butterflies- I was a little creeped out too, I have to admit. I don't have any pictures of the butterflies themselves- as there were signs posted everywhere warning not to photograph them. The Italians were taking pics centimeters from the bugs....bu

During our first months here, I wish I had written down ALL the things about Italy I found to be strange, amusing, etc. I distinctly remember one sight in particular that left me flabbergasted. I remember seeing women working in their yards, gardening, wearing dresses or skirts. They would be raking, or tilling soil- not just walking around surveying the scene. This was manual labor they were doing- in a skirt. I could not believe it. I was shocked. It seemed so impractical. Why people, why? We have been living here a little over one year. Last week, I paused in the middle of a field. I took a deep breath and let out a hearty chuckle. There I was, my friends, walking through a field that was completely filled with weeds. The weeds were as high as my hips- and what was I wearing? An ankle length linen skirt. Amazing. Simply amazing. As you can see, the girls have caught some fashion vibe and are riding it back to the 80's. Oh, and if U.S. fashion follows Italian fashion, y'all

ImageChef.com Flower Text Two days ago, we were outside playing around and Bruna was out stomping on the plants along the wall. I guess they are getting too close to the other plants and are threatening the entire balance of the garden. H and Z were confused about what she was doing and walked over to have a look. She invited us to join her in their backyard. The girls had a great time playing in their sweet, well-manicured yard while Bruna and I had a chat. She talks to me like I am an old friend. She laughs until tears stream down her face when I don't understand what she's saying or when I say something silly. I was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, as were the girls. She asked me over and over again if I was cold. Then she asked me over and over if the girls were cold. She kept pointing out that we were wearing short sleeves. I then started asking her is she was too warm- she had on a long-sleeved turtleneck sweater. She thought that was hilarious. This morning, o

Hey Mom, why is Bruna's face all crumpled? "Well, let's see. She has been around for a long time and her skin is relaxed, most people refer to it as "wrinkles." This is her garden area in the shared courtyard. She waters the plants daily and moves them around quite a bit. Judging from the last 2 days of sun, seems spring is finally here. It's nice to see our crumpled friend is busy again. All pictures were generously shared by my mother-in-law. In retrospect, I am always happy that I have acquiesced to the sometimes painful acts of photography. Thank you for being such a persistent shutter-bug : )

This may be be a "little known" fact about me, but I would rather give a speech to an audience of 1,000 than have guests over for dinner. This statement holds true even if the topic of the speech is not a familiar topic. I swear. I think it's the pressure of having the table and linens and glasses all "matchy matchy." (I haven't even mentioned the issue of preparing an edible meal.) Dinner soiree's are not my forte, I get all twitchy at the mere thought. That being said, for some crazy reason, I decided maybe entertaining for brunch wouldn't be too bad. It seems like so much less pressure. I mean, I have flipped many a pancake in my day and egg bake is prepared the night before, so how hard could it be? I got a wild notion to invite our Italian neighbors over for brunch. The idea was rolling around in my head- then when I saw Luciano the next day, the words simply came out of my mouth and it was a done deal. A friend of mine (it's nice I can say