Random Observations

My brain is reflexively spitting-out random thoughts as I'm flooded with observations about life in the United States after almost 2 years of absence.

It is remarkable how small the contrasts can be between life here and in Italy, and how magnified they seem to me in these first few days of re- immersion. Most of them are mundane, though some certainly rise to the core of what makes Italians Italian, and Americans American.

On the list of mundane, for example, is the garbage disposal. I could just sit at my mother's kitchen sink stuffing food down the black hole for fun!  I haven't seen one in years! Morning cereal is infinitely easier when the dregs can be washed down the sink with the flick of the switch. 

On the list of significant differences that impact the core (i.e. the belly)  - literally - of cultures is fast food. Americans love their fast food. This sounds cliche, but when you have been gone for so long, this fact is even more striking. I forgot how fast-food restaurants abound here. From one drive-through to another, Americans can consume quickly produced food just about anywhere, anytime. I am pleased to see an increase in healthier options available on the menu. Let's just hope more Americans pick them.  

In Italy, as you probably know, the "fast-food" lifestyle does not exist. Opportunities to eat have very defined times (lunch from 12:30-3, dinner from 7:30-11; forget late-night drive-through), defined places (sit-down restaurants primarily, almost all family-run, no drive-through) and a defined menu (cooked on-site, very little frying, reliance on seasonal foods, little to no "processed food," moderate alcohol consumption, and usually a healthy red wine, and limited red meat, maybe 1x a week). 

Maybe Americans are getting so fat because they can eat at a moment's notice, and don't even have to get out of their cars to get food. YIKES.  

When I arrived here, I immediately felt foreign, in some indefinable way. Io sono stranieri. (I am foreign.) It's as if I have "ITALY" written all over me, like people don't recognize me as an American, but yet I know I don't look any differently. Funny thing, I am the farthest thing from Italian. How strange, though, to feel foreign in your own homeland.

My sister-in-law made a simple and accurate statement: you have been on quite a journey since you last left. This is true, and I can speak for both E and I that after several years abroad, our minds have expanded, our world-view broadened, our appreciation for America strengthened, our love of humankind deepened, and our belief that there are a million ways to live life solidified. (Let us not judge, therefore.) 

We are two people who relish new challenges and new discoveries. Living abroad is infinitely interesting, at times frustrating, and always a learning experience. 

Simply put: I'm thankful for this journey, and couldn't imagine it any other way. And I'm so fortunate to be able to dip my toes in both worlds, by Living In The Boot and also taking a stroll back to America, the roots of my existence. And it sure is nice to have family waiting here with open arms. Good Bless America, and Salute! Italy.

Greetings From Florida

Vintage postcard found here.

The Land of Sunshine... well, not this week. But I don't have one complaint about my first visit to Florida in almost 2 years! I'm a "Florida cracker" (born and raised here) and the white Gulf Coast sands flow through my blood. My soul just sings a bit louder, my heart just slows to a comfortable pace, and my eyes twinkle when I smell the salty sea air of the Sunshine State.

So, yes, we won the Space-A lottery. Thank you! No problems getting on, in fact, which was excellent after waiting at the military airport for several hours in anticipation. The number of available seats had dwindled, but then all of a sudden bloomed that morning, and what a welcome response I heard when told "You'll have no problem" to my questions about getting-on. Phew!

Ironically, I should have been more worried about my temporary destination. Norfolk/Virginia Beach. Ah-huh. YUP. SNOWED IN. 

Several cancelled flights, a few hours stuck on the runway, many delays, an unexpected stay-over at a Hilton, dead Italian cell phone, no US cell phone (man have I grown dependent on them!) and TONS of snow. Thankfully, we benefited from the kindness of strangers several times, and that's when I'm reminded about how wonderful home can be. And how kind the human spirit is world-wide.

Yes, it feels good to be home. (Now if only my husband was here to share it with us.)

We've already consumed Starbucks Chai Lattes, a REAL bagel, Cuban food and McDonalds for the kids. (We seldom get fast-food in Italy, which is a good thing.) One Best Buy and AT&T visit later - about 30 minutes of invested time- and I have two functioning cell phones. Now that is crazy! Do you know how long it would have taken me to do that in Italy?!

A few thanks.... Thanks Laura for watching over the children so I could pack, and for also being a gracious taxi to the airport in Italy. Knowing you were "on call" to handle any last minute changes was a huge relief. You're a wonderful friend! and speaking of wonderful friends... Court, you get the crazy friends-in-town-8-hours award! What a blur, literally. Thanks for weathering the snow with us all in tow to get us to the airport extra-early, on a freezing morning. The kids haven't stopped talking about Jacob, the dogs and the cat. I treasured finally really  meeting Katie!

I'll try to post some soon, but as you can imagine, I'm spending time with the family here that I have missed so much. Time is at a premium. In just a matter of days, we'll be headed back. Friends - next time, ok? I hope to be back some this summer.

Chat soon!

Homeward Bound? Depends on the Space-A Lotto

Tonight I'm a mixed bag of emotions.

Excited at the possibility of seeing family, cautious at the potential for disappointment, and buffering my feelings with visions of embracing E on his return should we not be off to America tomorrow.

America? Yes, you heard me correctly.

Domani, the kids and I are playing the Space-A lotto.

How does it work? Good question!

Well, let’s just say that our Armed Forces TV network runs ads with the X-Files theme song playing and two people arguing that flying Space-A travel is NOT a paranormal phenomena. If they have to pay actors to create commercials trying to convince you that flying and understanding Space-A travel is not "out there" (alien), then trust me, it's OUT THERE.

Basically, I'm trying to get on a regularly flown military flight from Virginia to Italy. Every two weeks, more or less, it goes back and forth. If we get on, it will cost me $27.30 per person, one way. CHEAP.

So does the price tell you anything? You get what you pay for. No guarantees, no pre-booking. We may get on, may not. Flight may go, flight may not! Delays? Why sure, you're at the whim of the military. But they try hard to make it all work!

Standard commercial airplane: YES. Flight attendants: YES (military folks). Food on board: sometimes! Movie? depends. Blankets? YES, and we'll need them.

The kids and I will arrive tomorrow morning at "show time." It's called that. It's like a drop-dead time. I have to report, claim my desire to fly. There are 6 categories of priority. We'll be at level 4, with 1 being the best (people on orders to move, leave, report somewhere). (Would have been a 2 could my husband have gone. But someone has to work to pay the bills.)

I'm using a special "Environmental and Morale Leave" letter (Hahahaha. Love the description.) which improves my status, and increases my chances of getting on tomorrow. Only 15 extra seats as of this afternoon.

Either way, it's all a gamble.

So all the pre-thought into packing for 3 (yes, I tried on several outfits!), the actual packing (no fun!) (oops! that bag is 50 lbs and I haven't even put shoes in yet!), the cost of the pre-booked flight from Virginia to Florida, and the FEAR of not getting on and having to walk my 4 and 5 year-old out of the airport, by myself, with them - no doubt - crying (despite all my pre-warnings on this!) in disappointment for not being able to see Grampi and Grandi, Sea World, Snooty the Manatee, the white beaches of Bradenton, the cousins, Uncle Jebbo and goofy Uncle Brett and funny Great Uncle Gi-gi, the dragon pinatas Grandi pre-bought them for their birthdays...

You get it. NOT gonna be good. Let's just say I have a few pre-birthday presents ready and a promise to visit the seldom visited McDonalds for dinner, should we not get on.

As for me...  I'll be so sad. I'm ready. Ready for some swinging on my mom's back porch in 70-degree weather with the smell of salty sea water in the air... Ready to hold the niece and nephew born in the last year... Ready to laugh with my brothers and sister-in-laws... Ready to hit Target... Ready to eat some authentic Cuban food, a good bagel, and a bit of Thai. Ready to show-off a little: Peanut and Buddy are such fun little people! Ready to see my Dad, a triple organ transplant patient! Ready to see my grandmother, in her low 90s... the one I hugged so hard before I left American almost 2 years ago, just in case I never saw her again. I hope I do.  

Today, as I zipped around the city with Mt. Vesuvius in the background, the island of Ischia hidden behind a moderate haze, and the paradoxes of ancient history with modern decay, I thought: Woe is me, I'm living in Italy! But I also thought: military folks do make sacrifices. Some the ultimate.

Mine is small in comparison, but it is still a sacrifice. Family is far, far away.

Of course, life is what it is, and I wouldn't have it any other way... but I'm ready. I sure hope we hit the Space-A jackpot.

Comforting Chamomile

Not a good start for the body.

I usually don't get sick that much (although more here than anywhere). 2010 hasn't been good to me! Coughs, colds, UTI's, and now a stomach bug that has depleted me. Thankfully, this season has been much, much better for my children, and I'd rather be sick than them.

Yesterday, when I could hardly function with nausea and gastro-intestinal problems, both my landlord and Slovenian neighbor immediately offered chamomile tea to sooth my belly. I actually love it and drink it regularly, just one of those mild food obsessions I've been sharing recently.

European sentiments lean toward herbal and home-remedies, and with a strong belief in "mother's wisdom" or "old wives tales." They would never consider them superstitious, but fact, and they shape their way of life. 

When my landlord shows up to visit and finds the kids bare-foot during the winter, he shakes his head, points at their feet and says "Mama mia!" Chilled feet can chill the body's core, and make them vulnerable to sickness. (Not the poor air quality in Naples and the thousands of nasty germs found in your average kindergarten class.) Same reason my Slovenian neighbor encouraged the kids to not sit down on the cold tile. Cold tile, cold bum, cold core = sickness.

If we're sick in the summer, it's because we're running our AC. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. If we're sick in the winter, it's because we wear no socks. (You'll always find me socked. I hate cold feet. The kids: well, that's a battle to keep them in house slippers and socks.)

My landlord and neighbor of course mean well, and they are sharing what they know to be true. These examples illustrate cultural differences, and I find them intriguing.

I do believe, however, that many times, wives tales are rooted in a base of truth.

Chamomile IS known to soothe nerves, calm you and act as a mild sedative to help you sleep better.  Offering antioxidants as well, this tea can be an easy way to include a daily boost to your immunity, and at a minimum, increase your fluid intake. And really, what's not soothing about holding a warm mug of hot tea between your cupped hands, especially when you just feel miserable?

Click here if you want to find out more about the health benefits of chamomile.

You bet I drank my chamomile tea yesterday! and today.

I'm so thankful to my neighbor Claire for bringing back boxes of the tea from Slovenia for me. She knows I love her brand, which seems far better - smoother, more delicate - than those found at my American store.

    

Nostalgic Visits, in Modern Times

Forget scrap-booking, we now have Google Earth.

Remiss that you don't have a picture of your grandmother's house in Timbucktoo?

Don't hop on a plane to travel thousands of miles to re-live standing in front of your childhood home in Florida. Just Google Earth it.

What does Google not do well, tell me? One thing they do well is Google Earth. It can be mind bogglingly good.

It has captured our past through satellite pictures of the present. And I don't mean the time you got drunk in college at Bullwinkles. Ah... we won't go there.  Thankfully, Google Earth isn't that good.

I mean it has captured our physical world, as it exists today. Structures from our environmental past that, if still standing, hold the essence of former times, triggers to our nostalgic memories, hopefully comfort points.  The roof over your head, the asphalt below your fast-pedaling feet on your pink Huffy bike. The cul-de-sac that was a petri-dish of childhood growth.

   

  

Image of cul-de-sac outside childhood home in Florida

Type in the address, or just a city. As you twirl into a downward spiral, you almost feel as if you're being temporarily transported to another time. Look away if you're prone to motion sickness. Zoom-in, zoom-out, depending on your level of desired scrutiny. Click on the floating camera, and you're dropped down in a 360-degree bubble that you can rotate around in with a standing-on-the-ground viewpoint. CRAZY! (Privacy folks don't get kooky on me right now!) Most places have been detailed with street-views. The resulting colors of the images are faded, like worn, perfectly square and white-trimmed vintage photos you might find in a family album. Think 70's.

These Google Earth "transports" are like a modern-day drive-by. Sanitary. Fast. Free. What sci-fi book of yesteryear predicted this?

How crazy is it that when a faded memory of permed hair and summers at my grandparents in Indiana can lead me to finding the streets we drove with sweet honeysuckly floating through the open car-window, the house we literally explored from moth-ball smelling basement to cozy attic, 20-something years ago.

How crazy is it that my husband "found" his childhood home in Australia, tracing the streets he roamed as a kid,  sharing stories about how far he was allowed to safely ride alone on his bike, where his elementary school was, who had a big yard and mean dog, and what houses had since added back-yard pools.

How crazy is it that when struck with a funny curiosity: Does "surfer boy" still live behind our old 1,000 square-foot bungalow in Ventura, California? Let's find out. We get on Google Earth, zoom in on street-view to examine our old place, the place that was the first home for both our children as babies. The tree hasn't been chopped yet... hmmm... must be an old picture. Looking closely, we realize our VW Jetta is in the drive-way. Oops! This picture has to be at-least 5+ years old. Maybe it's since been updated?

....And all of this without leaving my living room in Naples, Italy. WOW.

Aerial view of second childhood home and the streets I roller-bladed and biked regularly (and drove my Ford Probe!) 

The Sound of Salzburg Austria

  

The Alps are like a fur collar on the top of the knee-high Italian boot.

Like fringe, the crescent shaped mountain range wraps from southern France to Switzerland through Germany and into Austria and Slovenia. Dotted with beautiful towns and cities, filled with gorgeous sky-tipping peaks, the penetrable Alps have pass-through routes that have been traversed for thousands of years in the name of war, commerce and exploration. The range is simply synonymous with natural beauty.

 

Just over the range, heading north-east out of Italy, a traveller can emerge into the historic city of Salzburg, Austria, home to humans since at least the Celts, more than three-thousand years ago.

Like much of Europe, Salzburg, with a civilization that has built upon itself for much of our understood history, is nestled in a manner both respectful and dictated by the geography of location. The city is split in two, divided but very much economically united by the Salzach River. For years and years, the vital commodity salt was mined in the area and shipped out along this river, hence the city's namesake "Fortress or Castle of Salt."  

Today the architecturally Baroque gem is known less for one of the two shakers on your table and more for the music that sings Salzburg. She was the city of birth in 1756 to a musical genius, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. He had a temperamental love-hate relationship with the city, but there is not doubt that the city claims him. Gold-wrapped round chocolate balls can be found everywhere with the white-haired music extraordinaire, and his name graces cafes, restaurants, statues and all-things-tourist.

  

Residence (left) and birth-home of Mozart

Visitors can shadow his life starting at his birthplace house moving to the well-designed and presented museum at the "Mozart Wohnwaus" or family residence. Across the river in "new town" and after a quick stroll down the pedestrian-zoned Linzergasse, warm wood doors topped by golden-halo and arrow-pierced St. Sebastian mark the church housing the Mozart family tombs. If one is lucky, you can catch a candle-lit service during the holidays when the almost haunted voices of residents echo in the tiny but enchanting 16th century church.

 

St. Sebastian Church

Tourists can catch countless opportunities to hear his music performed in period dress, in old churches or as background music while eating fancy meals. The summer Salzburg Festival is the peak of all-things-Mozart and has a world-wide draw.

 

 

Though the Festival is a summer sensation, there is nothing more magical than strolling the traditional Christmas market held in the Altstedt (Old Market) at sunset after a fresh dusting of snow. Well-stocked and decorated wooden booths sell every imaginable holiday adornment from snow globes to traditional nutcrackers to jewelry and leather gloves; this is the place to find unique Christmas presents. 

The food and drink alone are worth a visit. Partaking of the hot, sweetly spiced "gluhwein" or a personal favorite, the hot "orange punch" is practically mandatory, not only to warm your bones but also your spirits. Curry sausages on buns are heavenly, and chocolate can be found in any shape or form, best consumed when draped around fresh strawberries. Just dreamy, Christmas is in Salzburg. 

  

A well-tested truth is that old cities are best explored on foot. A walk along the busy lane with Roman roots know as the "Getreidegasse," is a wonderful way to while away a few hours or deplete your funds: shopping is at a premium. Moments just studying the architecture, wishful window-shopping and dreaming one is a local can foster a genuine connection with a city, Salzuburg in particular.

If children are part of a visitor's entourage, there is plenty to please. Mozart's Residence has free audio-guides, which they gladly hand-out to children of all ages. For some reason, having their own headphones, finding markers next to exhibits and punching in the coordinating numbers will keep them happily busy for about the 1-2 hours needed for the adults to satisfyingly complete the museum.

Pay-backs for patient children can be a promised visit to the impressive multi-level Haus der Natur - Natural History Museum. Also, kids of all ages will love the quick funicular ride up to the Festung Hohensalzburg castle. The 360-degree views from this 11th century hill-top castle are absolutely breathtaking and worth the slightly pricey ticket ride. After returning home, and missing the city, one can vicariously "live" the city again through the city's Livecams.

If the weather permits, "old" children can introduce new ones to a childhood classic, The Sound of Music, with many scenes filmed here and in the surrounding countryside. The hip antique-modern mix found at the Hotel Auersperg is super kid friendly, and the "family suites" are sleek and exceptionally spacious (and reasonable during the off-season). Stocked with DVD players, flat-screen TVs and a free selection of kids movies, it's a winner. Also, the "adult" bonuses: a mini-fridge stocked with hip local beers, mini-prosecco bottles and a personal Nespresso maker!

  

Hotel room and view from window at sunrise

The sound of Salzburg, no matter what century of music, is melodious. The compact, friendly city, teaming with intelligent trendy university youths is attractive and appealing. Well-preserved architecture and stunning scenery, good food and drink, and just the right amount of museums and things to do, make it a perfect get-away. Kid-friendly on one hand, but highly romantic on the other, she'll sing sweet ballads pleasing to the ears and soul. Salzburg is one classy small Alpine gem.

More pictures here (on sidebar).

Obsession Confessions, and Fruit Cake

Question of the day:

Can you over-dose on dried figs?

NO, I can attest, I confess. I think I ate 15 the other day.

Warning: they are "high in fiber." Ahem.

My food obsessions continue this week, and thankfully, they are still in the healthy range. (Well, at least the ones I'm confessing here!)

Christmas in Italy would not be complete without the addition of scores of dried fruits and fresh nuts in the markets and supermercatos. Shrunk-wrapped packages of colored and shriveled fruits are grouped on tissue paper in small, flat straw containers. Are they suppose to look appealing? Or does some nostalgic over-drive or obligatory tradition take over and seduce you with these rather unattractive packages? Not sure.

For many Americans, the thought of dried fruits conjures up the long-joked about brick that passes from one family to the next, everyone joyfully re-gifting it. It's the classic white elephant. It really can be a food stuff that is packed away for 1 more year, and still probably taste just the same.

By the way, I dare you to do a Google image search for "fruit cake."  

A few years ago, it seemed like a rash of recipes for dried fruit and nut breads hit the round of food magazines. (Trust me on this one. I get them all.) The name was changed from cake to bread. Ahhhh! Trying to fool us all! I do think the "foodies of the magazine world" were really trying hard to bring back a relatively young but lost tradition. I was tempted to try one but never had the nerve to seek out colored "mystery fruits." Are they really fruits?

I've been told I'm a cousin of a cousin of a cousin to the folks who own the Claxton Fruit Cake Company in Southern Georgia; but maybe that's just because everyone in the early 1900's was related in Southern Georgia. Coincidentally, it was an Italian immigrant who started the company and at the turn of the century popularized fruit cakes in America. They say they are still going strong! But I ask - when is the last time you were gifted a fruit cake? (Does anyone dare!?!)

I'm too lazy tonight to do some research, but why is it that almost all cultures have a tradition of nuts and candied fruits during the holidays?

Many have unique "fruit cakes" that are regional in preference and ingredients. I will say this, the fresh "Christstollen" bread with light sprinkling of powdered sugar I consumed in Austria last month was delicious. Moist, airy and filled with flavorful but not over-powering nuts and fruits made this bread an all-together different food experience than America's.

OK> I digress. So what is the connection to figs? (In other words: What exactly is my point!?!)

I had spied dried Turkish figs for several weeks around town. I love fresh figs, but some fruits dried just aren't good. I can almost c-r-i-n-g-e thinking about waxy tasting dates. However, mostly my fear of fruit cake was holding me back. Was this just another dried, slightly moldy earthy mystery food?

NO WAY. Delicious. Popping with sweetness, gentle in flavor, soft and fleshy, delightfully chewy. The tiny seeds are fun to crush with your teeth and practically melt, without annoying you like a raspberry. Pure fig.

And HEALTHY. Look at this info I found:

Health Tips

1. Figs can be part of almost any special diet, be it low fat, low sodium, high fiber, weight loss, diabetic or even the Mediterranean. They satisfy a sweet tooth without adding any fat. Their unique satiny texture and seeds provide a satisfying mouth feel and crunch.

2. Figs are fat-free, sodium-free and, like other plant foods, cholesterol-free.

3. Figs are high in fiber, providing 20% of the Daily Value --- more dietary fiber per serving than any other common dried or fresh fruit.

4. Of the approximately five grams of fiber per serving of figs, four grams are insoluble and one gram is water-soluble.

5. Figs have the highest overall mineral content of all common fruits. A 40 gram (1/4 cup) serving provides 244 mg of potassium (7% of the DV), 53 mg of calcium (6% of the DV) and 1.2 mg of iron (6% of the DV).

6. Figs fit into 5-A-Day -- the 40 gram serving is an easy way to add a serving of fruit to reach the daily recommendation of five fruits and vegetables.

7. The antioxidant boost provided by fruit consumption lasts about 2 hours. Which dried fruits are the best? Of the six fruits tested--apricots, cranberries, dates, figs, raisins and plums--shooting to a surprise finish at number one was... figs! Even the high fructose corn syrup in the soda is no match for the antioxidant power of fruit. Despite the double sugar load, subjects washing down their figs with soda still experienced an overall rise in antioxidant levels in their bloodstream. In addition to having the highest antioxidant content among the six fruits tested, of the thousands of whole foods in the USDA nutrient database, figs make the top ten for fiber content. Source: http://www.nutsonline.com/driedfruit/figs/turkish.html

Just look at all the buzz words: Fat Free!  High in Fiber! High in Calcium! No Sodium! High in Antioxidants!

Why aren't these the latest miracle food?

Go buy yourself some Turkish figs, if you can find them. I'm so glad I overcame my fruit-cake driven doubts.

White Bean Dip Obsession

Do you ever try something new and then grow quickly obsessed by it? Foods fall in this category for me, and the latest has been Giada de Laurentiis White Bean Dip with Pita Chips  on page 19 of Everyday Food.

Really, there is nothing particularly novel about the recipe. But it's just plain good, and good for you as well, a perfect duo for starting off the New Year with a healthy habit.

My friend Laura was talking about a clams and spaghetti recipe from this simple Italian cooking book. I hadn't looked at in months, and I just happened to want something easy for our New Years Eve gathering. This dip fit the billet. Fast, easy, on-hand ingredients, and can be made ahead.

For me, this is almost a pantry dip. Jars of cannellini beans are always on hand, parsley grows in the front yard, lemons in the back, and garlic is a staple. I keep frozen wheat pita bread around constantly, the perfect accompaniment once toasted and seasoned. (Or not! I like it all ways.)

For lunch, I've been spreading the dip across toasted pita halves (actually halves of halves) with sliced avocado, and a sprinkling of pink sea salt from Australia's Murray River. (Some of you will get the reason for the significance of this river; thanks Mom for sending me this yummy salt!) Delicious, and healthy, and filling. Just what we all need for 2010!

White Bean Dip with Pita Chips
From Giada's Everyday Italian

Ingredients
1 (15-ounce) can cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
2 cloves garlic*
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1/3 cup olive oil, plus 4 tablespoons
1/4 cup (loosely packed) fresh Italian parsley leaves
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
6 pitas
1 teaspoon dried oregano

Directions
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

Place the beans, garlic, lemon juice, 1/3 cup olive oil, and parsley in the work bowl of a food processor. Pulse until the mixture is coarsely chopped. Season with salt and pepper, to taste. Transfer the bean puree to a small bowl.

Cut each pita in half and then into 8 wedges. Arrange the pita wedges on a large baking sheet. Pour the remaining oil over the pitas. Toss and spread out the wedges evenly. Sprinkle with the oregano, salt, and pepper. Bake for 8 to 12 minutes, or until toasted and golden in color.

Serve the pita toasts warm or at room temperature alongside the bean puree.

(*This recipe came off the Food Network; the recipe in the book actually calls for 1 clove of garlic. Obviously, you can go either way depending on your preference.)

It's nice if you drizzle a bit of fresh extra-virgin olive oil across the top with a bit of fresh parsley before you serve. 

A Boy, Changed

And Seen in a new light

  Salzburg Austria December 09

There are moments in a mother's life when she sees her children from a new angle, like hanging your head off a bed and looking around a familiar room. Not only is what you see appear differently, but what you look like must too. 

Today on my drive to the military base with only my son in tow, I turned around to take a look at him sitting comfortably in his car-seat, head pushed back in a resting mode. I took a double-take, followed by a warm smile that was immediately reciprocated. It was as if I didn't recognize him totally, or was seeing  him for the first time in days. Of course even with this pause in relational determination, the love was undeniable.

Yesterday we spent the day without his older sister. The American school started Monday, but Buddy's Italian school waits until after the Epiphany, a Biblical moment fully recognized here by a national holiday, and a visit by Old Befana. 

With only the two of us, mother and son, hanging out in the house, there are more quiet moments, tender minutes that unquestionably fall under that much-used term "bonding." His eyes, his smile, his words express novel thinking, deeper feelings, and growth, not just in the physical realm.

Buddy is a thoughtful fellow, loves his sister with an admirable and not uncommon little-brother devotion. When she is gone, he often asks when she'll be back. Without her attention to secure - something he spends a considerable amount of time doing, making his sister laugh, engaging her in his imaginative play, etc. - Buddy can just be, without much action.  

In this realm of independent freedom yesterday, his mind went dancing in an imaginary world, that struck me sweetly.

BUDDY: "Mom, do-yah-know...ah... when I get big, I'm going to get a car. I'm going to go to a pet store. Do you know what kind of animal I'm gonna buy?"

MOM: "Ah...a dog?"  

BUDDY: "No, I'm gonna buy a polar bear. Yeah, and feed him lots of sugar...you have to be careful with them, pet them nicely."

.... few minutes pass...

BUDDY: "I'm gonna go to a shirt store too. Buy a Zoo Keeper shirt. I'll go there first, then the pet shop. I'll build him a house, an igloo." 

            <><><><><><><><><><>

I'm so thankful he trusted me to share this vision, this dream, this big-boy wish. I relish those unexpected childhood moments that are so innocent, so pure, so sweet; moments that give your adult mind - hampered by countless worries - a much-needed Magic 8-Ball shake. One of the standard replies no doubt emerges: Outlook good.

Yes, for Buddy, I believe the outlook is good. He's changing, faster than my motherly wish to keep him young is strong. There's a reason why old people always tell young parents: Before you know it, they'll be..

      ...driving a car!

      ...off to college!

      ...(fill in the blank)

Clichés are cliche because they are often true.

My little Buddy... if only I could capture him in a snow-globe of innocence, tucked forever in my pocket. But then he'd never be who he is.

The only thing that stays the same, is change. Most certainly in a boy.

  

Back in Virginia 2005-2007

Summer 2008

Self-portrait, sometime in 2009, on his Fisher-price kid camera

December 2009 - Salzburg, Austria

December 2009 - Munich, Germany

Happy New Years! 2010

     

One thing Italians won't disappoint you with, is fireworks at the turn of the new year. Really, I have never seen anything like it. You can see last years blog story to learn more.

This year, was more of the same. 360 views of "backyard" fireworks that are anything but "backyard" in impact. It was like being front-and-center at a theme park's firework show. You hardly knew which way to look! And you could hardly think or talk, the decibel level ear-shattering!

With a bang, and a few friends, we brought in the New Years at our home.

We had a last-minute adult and kid sleep over with our friends here, which was quite festive, and also allowed us all to share the new year's celebration at our Slovenian neighbor's annual party. Plenty of folk dancing and food. We all knew we were in trouble when our our Slovenian friends broke out the giant glass bottle with floating peach: a homemade fruit brandy called Rakia. YIKES! It burned a sweet path down my digestive track!

After a night eating black-eyed peas, lentils, and fresh greens for luck, we all just laughed and shared stories. I love talks that range from childhood memories to religion!

Just before the fireworks exploded, we had a bit of homemade tiramisu, and peach pie. Prosecco was popped at midnight, and we cheered the change of date. My friend said "throw a bucket of water off the porch" and so I did! I just happened to have a bucket of dirty mopping water from that day sitting there - how fortuitous.

I hope your evening was a bang, and that fortunte rings for you this 2010. I welcome a new decade, and love the feel of "two-thousand-ten" as it rolls off my tongue. It sounds good. I hope it will be for us all! Cheers! "Cin cin"

Going with the Snow-Flow

 

Tuscany (top) and the Northern Alps of Italy, covered in snow

A friend asked: "How was Paris? I've imagined you and your family just exploring Paris!"

Me too. But it didn't happen! What?!

What do you get when you mix Air France, Paris, Charles de Gaulle Airport and an unexpected December snow-fall? Cancelled flights. Lots of them! 

Two days in a row all Air France flights in and out of Italy were cancelled, and for two days in a row, we sat in our house (thankfully not the airport) waiting to see if we'd make it to Paris. 

Alas, Paris eluded us.  

But have no fear! The M. family will not fall victim to misfortune. We're very good at turning lumps of coal into diamonds. And thus we did.

Rent a car. Drive to Germany and Austria, and experience a winter-wonderland!

Sometimes, when you least expect it, your best-laid plans evaporate. No matter how many "T's" you crossed, the writing is simply NOT on the wall. However, unexpected turns can invite unexpected joys. Seemingly unfortunate turns of events can surprise you with fortunate results, if you just lift your pouting chin off your dejected hands.

The brilliant advantage to living in Europe is that Europe is your playground. If the swings are filled on one side of the park, head to another. Just don't sulk.

Salzburg, Austria - fresh dusting - gorgeous!

Paris!

Image credit found here. 

All will be quiet through the next week here at Living In The Boot. 

My boots are headed to Paris with the kids and E. I'm packing furiously. And checking the weather. SNOW. OH boy!

The kids were bummed we were not doing Germany as initially planned because they desperately wanted to see the white fluffy stuff. Now, they just might get it! The Florida girl in me, and mom, went into worry mode, but my husband and friends (who have been there in the snow) have re-assured me that I should forget it, and be excited. The wide-eyes of my children helped move me in a new direction.

Ok... I'm excited! (*I think* Hahaha)

See you soon. Stay safe. And relish the gentle, loving moments found during the holidays.