Taking off the catcher's mitt

Wise words from Maya Angelou-- I appreciate her perspective.

"I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today,

life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.

I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things:

a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.

I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents,

you'll miss them when they're gone from your life.

I've learned that making a 'living' is not the same thing as 'making a life.'

I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.

I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands;

you need to be able to throw some things back.

I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart,

I usually make the right decision.

I've learned that even when I have pains,

I don't have to be one.

I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone.

People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.

I've learned that I still have a lot to learn.

I've learned that people will forget what you said,

people will forget what you did,

but people will never forget how you made them feel." 

― Maya Angelou

Rainy, chilly days that include hugs from these little ones are still good days. Questi sono i miei amori piccoli ... sono intaglio una nicchia indelebile nel mio cuore. Io li voglio bene per sempre.

I miei bambini

To Rome!

Rome in the sunshine.

I stepped off the train last Friday to find the city glowing with natural light. I wandered the little alleys and crossed the bridge on the Tiber River. With each step I could sense the antiquity and history beneath my soles, until it became so thick that I felt like I needed to stop and shake it off my new suede shoes.

 Alternatively, these sentiments may have had something to do with the extensive blister gardens blooming on my feet, or the crushing weight of my duffel bag rucksack (why do I insist on carrying an entire household-worth of stuff when I go on weekend trips?!) Regardless, I was in one of the most incredible cities in the world, so when I couldn't walk any longer, I sat down at the base of a fountain in the piazza of Santa Maria de Trastevere and savored a cone of pistachio gelato. Once the gelato was gone, I lingered a few minutes longer silently arguing with myself whether to suck it up and wait for my foot to become one united blister, or to seek Bandaids. The latter won out, and after taping my feet back together, I continued my indiscriminate self-guided tour of Rome.( Travel tip 28,935 for you: bring your own Bandaids to Rome... I almost had to sell myself into slavery to afford them.)

I had been to Rome a few weeks before, but I returned last weekend to see a friend from Walla Walla who was traveling through Rome as a sponsor on an academy tour of Europe. We had agreed to meet at the main entrance of the Coliseum at 3pm, and as I sat waiting for her familiar face to appear from the endless crowd, I was almost dancing from happiness. (The dancing bit was in my mind-- my feet referenced the blisters and refused to literally dance.) When she emerged from the crowd and walked toward me, beaming America and smiling familiarity, it was the most beautiful thing I had seen since I left Seattle on Christmas Day. Maybe I am just a closet homebody, but I almost cried I was so happy.

We enjoyed Italian coffee in a little restaurant facing the Vittoriano Emmanuele monument, and although I didn't expect to see Lauren for more than a half an hour, I was actually fortuante enough to spend the majority of the next day touring with her and the academy group. We toured the Vatican museum, St. Peter's Basilica, St. Peter in Chains, the Trevi Fountain, and the Spanish Steps. I showed Lauren and her husband Martin some of my favorite areas of Rome (as though I were an expert) and she and I drove the poor man crazy referencing Walla Walla as the paradigm for all things bright and beautiful. It was a fantastic weekend, one I will remember for years to come, barring early onset Alzheimers. 

After saying goodbye on Sunday morning, I visited the massive weekly Roman flea market, bought two oranges and sat in Piazza Navona picking the fruit apart and reading a book for an hour or so. I witnessed a careless tourist drop his iPhone in the Roman street drain while the notes of the Godfather theme drifted across the piazza from an accordion/bass/guitar trio. The Pantheon, with its massive dome and oculus of sunlight glaring at the inside walls left me incredulous of the feats humans are capable of accomplishing. As the afternoon wore on, I sampled more gelato and still made it back to the train station and onto my train with a full two minutes to spare before departure! (This may or may not have been related to my impressive sprint across Rome when I realized that time had moved quicker than I realized... I have missed my train before; it is not my favorite pastime.) Such a fun weekend--it is hard to believe that I will only be in Italy for another month! For now, I am trying to simply live in the moment, and savor the current experiences. The future and the past are best left to their respective posts. 

Excuses

It would seem that I have been a delinquent writer, so I thought I would post a few photos to make excuses for the poor documentation of the last few weeks, ha! 

Sometimes, an Idea paces the grey pathways of my frontal lobe. Paces. It refuses to meander off and reminisce with the Memories in the temporal lobe, or be distracted by balance games in the cerebellum. Instead, it constantly kicks and prods and cajoles until I am compelled to action. The latest Idea to haunt the halls of my head was The Knitted Afghan. 

Now, I have been a prolific knitter of all things ugly for most of my life. I once knit a pair of socks that would have accomodated the feet of Goliath and had enough holes and mistakes to be used as a colander. I also knit plenty of dish cloths, the kind you wrap and gift to relatives who exclaim about your talent and creativity before quietly slipping them on the bottom of the rag drawer. Perhaps I wanted to prove to myself that I could follow through and make something actually substantial and attractive. 

So I started my project the way I start many things... with no definitive plan. I walked into Caserta, found a shop with yarn, {foolishly} allowed myself to be talked into a lovely soft wool skein (wool is expensive!), selected a needle gauge at random (9mm), and returned home. I then carefully considered the width I wanted to make the blanket by casting on stitches until I was tired and/or no more stitches would fit on the needle. And I started knitting/purling.

 It didn't take long to burn through the first 10 skeins of yarn, so last week I returned to the shop for more wool (this blanket's value is quickly approaching equivalence with a gold ingot). This time, I went for an ivory white, and  decided I wanted to try knitting a pattern. I spent much of this weekend watching youtube tutorials, reading patterns online, and mentally chastising myself for not counting when I cast on (I have an odd number of stitches--171).

I am having fun though, and it has been exciting to see the results slowly developing. I think in order to save space in my suitcase, I am going to have to wear it as a cape on the plane home! Stay tuned for that fashion disaster! 

Happy Monday to you! 

Rainy Days

It's pouring rain outside my window, and the wind is cornering the droplets and bullying them into the corners and ledges. I kind of like the blustery chaos though. In some ways it reminds me of Walla Walla. This weather is a major shift from the two days of sunshine and warmer temps from earlier this week... Apparently weather is universally bipolar. 

It is the weekend, and combined with the inhospitable conditions outside, I have been abysmally useless today. Woke up late, read for a few hours, chatted with a friend online, and generally didn't budge from my toasty down blanket coccoon until lunch. The less I have to do, the longer it takes me to accomplish it! But it has been a lovely day.

This week, various members of my immediate family made a point to repeatedly remind me of their imminent preparedness for running Bloomsday 12k race in May. I believe it was Tuesday that all five of them were out pounding pavement before 6:15am, and the very real possibility that they would all outpace me on Race Day prompted me to get serious about training! So on Friday I joined a little gym just down the street from where I live. It is so nice to be getting back in a routine. They have two 'personal trainers' at the gym, and they insisted on making out a workout schedule for me, which was very kind of them. I had to laugh a bit though when they set me up with the treadmill and told me that I shouldn't exceed 6km/hr (approx. 3.7mi/hr). I can't even WALK that slow!

Yesterday, Francesca made eggplant parmiggiano, and I realized that every morsel of eggplant parmiggiano I have tasted in the past has been a lie! Oddly enough, the Italians are EXPERTS at making their own traditional dishes, haha! Thick tomato sauce, bubbling up through layers of sauteed eggplant, fresh mozarella, parmiggiano, and provola cheeses... incredible! Very rich for sure, and that was enough food to last me the entire day, but so tasty! I have added one more recipe to my '2013 Winter in Italia' collection. 

I hope your week is off to a wonderful start! Do keep in touch... I love hearing from you! 

Simple.

Ahhh, the simple delight of Thursday evening dinner! Fresh, tender mozarella, rustic bread, cherry tomatoes tossed with olive oil, salt, and oregano, and a touch of balsamic vinegar! I could get used to this!

New People

Lately I've been craving the mountains. Perhaps it has to do with the freedom I associate with the outdoors, or maybe it is because I want to smell the fresh breeze that only a wild place can provide. Here in Caserta, I can see the peaks and dips of the mountains that tumble and dance in the shadow of Mt. Vesuvius, but its hard to find public transportation to 'the nearest hiking trail.'

I've also been craving friends. I love my family here--they are wonderful, and we get along very well. But they have been my only contact, and without knowing the language I haven't felt comfortable wandering the streets in search of new friends. Faking Italian with Spanish words can only get you so far!

So I posted on a website called couchsurfer.com that I wanted to hike this weekend, and to contact me if anyone was interested in meeting up. I was surprised at how many people responded, but for various reasons it was difficult to organize a group outing, and I ended up just meeting up with one Italian guy, Gianluca.

Sometimes you meet people at the exact moment when they are most needed. Gianluca was that person for me. After spending time with him this weekend, I feel like we have been friends for years. We have common interests-- the outdoors, photography, and indie music. I met some of his friends who are artists (http://www.siximlab.com/collezioni/) and we chatted in Spanish, English, and Italian. We savored nutella ice cream and ate pizza in Naples at midnight. Sunday morning, Gianluca and I hiked through hazelnut and citrus orchards to the ruins of the ancient Castle Cicala and sat on the wall eating the sweetest oranges from a nearby tree, with a panoramic view of Mt. Vesuvius and the Naples valley. I can easily say that this has been the highlight of my time so far in Italy. Beautiful memories, and the even better, the satisfaction of knowing there are many more adventures to come!

'Pick the day. Enjoy it - to the hilt. The day as it comes. People as they come... The past, I think, has helped me appreciate the present - and I don't want to spoil any of it by fretting about the future.' -Audrey Hepburn

P.S. I have some photos to share, but I haven't been able to upload them yet. I will post them soon!

Tiramisu and Sleep Walking

Tiramisu.

Probably the most delicious Italian confection. And I just learned how to make it, straight from the source! I soaked up the experience like the lady-fingers absorbed the steaming espresso. An analogy almost as cheesy as the sweet mascarpone we used, but I can only think in terms of food right now!

The beauty and decadence is in the simplicity... silky mascarpone melded with a few tablespoons of sugar, then folded in with frosty egg-white peaks. A fresh press of espresso soaked each narrow lady-finger cookie, and after the pungent foundation was laid, the rest was just bricklayer's work. Fluffy mascarpone and espresso cookies, an enticing Jenga tower rising from the platter. Like an artist's signature, the dusting of cocoa powder settled silently on the top, completing the masterpiece.

It's chilling in the fridge now, silently taunting me. But dinner is coming, and the best culinary architecture usually meets a gristly demise.

I'll distract myself, (and you as well, hopefully), with a funny exerpt from my daily routine. I live on the 4th floor with Nona Maria, and the Monteleone family lives below me on the 3rd. Depending on the morning, I wake up and descend in my slippers to warm the milk and bereave the children of their toasty pajamas in favor of the cold realities of school uniforms. On a particular morning last week, my mind had not completely left Dreamland before I wriggled into three sweaters and slid into my slippers. I walked out the door, UP the steps to the 5th floor, and knocked quietly.

No answer.

Hmm... not typical, but perhaps they were busy. I knocked again, louder this time. Then I rang the doorbell, two short buzzes, the family signal. At that moment, I blinked enough sleep out of my left eye to notice the skylight and ladder on the wall. How strange that I hadn't noticed them bef---- !!

Sleep disappeared and adrenaline brought my eyes to an instant salute. I looked at the nameplate by the door and realized my 7am visit to the elderly man upstairs would not be appreciated. I then executed what could be titled the 'sprinting tiptoe.'

I wish I could say that I haven't done that since, but that would be a lie. The very next morning, I again lumbered to the 5th floor, but caught myself before ringing the bell.

I guess it's good that I'm always trying to move up in the world, even when I'm asleep! Perhaps I should sleep more at night though.