tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-103514162012-01-31T05:20:42.482-05:00The travels, adventures, foibles, and other stories of two New Mexicans living in Italia. (And yes, New Mexico is a part of the United States.) All Rights Reserved.Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.comBlogger3511100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-16951466104664574212012-01-26T15:38:00.001-05:002012-01-26T15:40:03.384-05:00

I know; my entry is early.  But I just couldn't wait!  It's a momentous occasion, an annual decadent event.  A chance to gorge on chocolate-hazelnut goodness for an entire day, and look through inspiring recipes and read emotional or funny tributes to the simple spread that brings smiles and soothes the soul.  As I've said before, it's the little things in life... Anyway.  I'm posting early for

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-48056984873482510252012-01-06T11:46:00.002-05:002012-01-06T14:31:34.359-05:00

It seems the older I get the more the years takes a roller coaster approach.  There seem to be more ups and downs than I remember in previous periods of my life, and sometimes those rocky patches of road can take an emotional toll.  I sometimes get wrapped up in the worries and wranglings to make things work out and forget to relax and enjoy the small, good things of each day.  It may be the

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-69865475251301949322011-12-22T15:12:00.000-05:002011-12-22T15:12:38.121-05:00

I've been running around like my hair is on fire - and unfortunately with the humidity and million things to do it sort of *looks* like it is, too.  I'm heading out too bright and early to catch a bus to Roma and the airport.  We'll be spending the holidays in the US with la famiglia.  Judging from the photo my sister sent, it looks like it might be a white Christmas in Ohio this year.  Wishing

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-22034775763375750552011-12-12T15:52:00.000-05:002011-12-12T15:52:27.418-05:00

I don't know about you but I've been enjoying the monthly posts by the great gals of the Italy Blogging Roundtable.  It's interesting to see how each writer explores the monthly theme.  I know some of them and admire all of them.  So when they opened up the topic for anyone to participate this time around I couldn't resist.  The theme is gifts (or presents). I like presents.  I mean, really...

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-51858325264446103852011-11-11T17:13:00.000-05:002011-11-11T17:13:15.356-05:00

It's something that was already on my mind, but it seems everywhere I look this week it's all about comfort food.  The grand dames of the blogging roundtable have been posting about it.  The Food Network site has a page devoted to it.  And someone reminded me of a post I'd penned some time back talking about my grandmother's kitchen.  It's been one of those seasons, that I crave comfort.  Italy

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-81910863224692867512011-11-05T10:49:00.002-04:002011-11-05T14:51:02.303-04:00

Well, did you see it?  How was it?  The big episode of House Hunters International featuring our home search in Trivigno aired last night, but it's not transmitted over here to the bel paese.  I hope it showed our beautiful region in a positive light.  To see more about Basilicata, check out our website! My Bella Basilicata A friend sent a screen shot from the TV Did you see House Hunters

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-25912613386210995332011-10-27T04:54:00.001-04:002011-10-27T04:58:08.052-04:00

So lest you think I'd given up blogging, I'm back with a hint of red on my cheeks - a bit of embarrassment that I've been too busy to blog, along with a flush of rosso from rushing back across the ocean, then careening down the length of the boot to get back home.  I'm a tad tired. We were back in the New World to revisit la famiglia and celebrate our wedding anniversary.  We went back to the

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-35528597021691728502011-10-08T11:34:00.000-04:002011-10-08T11:34:26.307-04:00

I knew it would end sooner or later, but the summery autumn we'd been enjoying could have held lasted a little longer.  A few days ago I was in a denim skirt and sleeveless top.  Today I'm sporting a mock turtleneck with a cardigan swaddled around me.  The wind blew in a cold downpour last night, right on schedule according to predictions, which had everyone scrambling in their campagna to finish

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-82358853970910635012011-09-17T17:32:00.001-04:002011-09-17T17:36:33.810-04:00

Do you remember the three months we spent in the Cilento?  Before we returned to the US?  The sunsets, the seafood, the stunning villa?  We enjoyed exploring that part of Campania, but it was in the winter, when the sea was spunky and Cilentani were sleepy. I returned yesterday for a day.  I went for work-related research.  Sometimes great sacrifices must be made in the name of duty and so I

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-64465783419805082522011-09-01T04:52:00.000-04:002011-09-01T04:52:22.242-04:00

Remember a while back when I posted my five favorite Italian words?  And then I discussed my five least favorite Italian words?  Bryan and I were recently pondering some of the regional peculiarities of the language.  There are some expressions we hear down in these parts that we hadn't encountered in Ascoli Piceno or Roma, so today I'm giving you a lesson in southern speak - Five Southern

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-79491080040014501802011-08-19T16:23:00.001-04:002011-08-20T03:52:29.911-04:00

Ours is a mountainous region.  The majority of the landscape is dominated by peaks and crags, which makes for great hiking, dramatic views, and beautiful sunsets.  The hill towns were, historically,  kept fairly isolated and so they still maintain their centuries- (or millenia-) old traditions, thanks to the rugged topography.  What is less known about Basilicata is that it jealously cradles

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-6761654955784996982011-08-05T15:32:00.001-04:002011-08-06T03:22:56.738-04:00

Y'all know that I like me a good meme now and then, but this one is a little special - first, because I was tagged by lovely Laura, a friend on the Amalfi Coast, who had very sweet words when she named me; and second because it is sponsored by Tripbase, which had previously given me an honored spot on their List of European bloggers.  How could I resist this one? My 7 Links Project aims to "

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-36006288870580734492011-07-22T08:16:00.000-04:002011-07-22T08:16:31.189-04:00

First there was the filming with the crew from House Hunters International.  Then came an email from a Milan-based photographer who wanted to meet us and see our village.  Now I've been interviewed by two really cool sites.  I feel so *wanted*! If you aren't already a regular listener to the Eye on Italy podcast, you should be!  It's a great show with insights into the politics and culture of

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-58826326588095994722011-07-17T17:42:00.000-04:002011-07-17T17:42:27.990-04:00

My family has a long history of naming cars.  I don't know how it got started, really.  It's just something we've always done.  As a kid I remember Blanca, the white Chrysler that happily toted us and the hibachi to the beach.  My mom kept that hibachi in the trunk all summer long, to be ready whenever the opportunity struck for an improntu picnic.  There was a Buick, whose name I can't recall. 

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-82031662945725736062011-07-06T06:23:00.002-04:002011-07-07T10:16:02.024-04:00

So if you have visions of My Big Fat Greek Wedding when you think of southern Italy and matrimonial festivities, you'd be pretty much right on.  Which sort of makes sense since this part of Italy was, once upon a time, part of Magna Grecia.  There are bound to be genetic traces and traditions still floating about these villages.  It all started back in November at our festa di ringraziamento

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-57205523454236351502011-06-23T04:11:00.002-04:002011-06-23T04:23:02.288-04:00

I know, you've been hearing cricket noises around the Pinon Tree lately.  Sorry about that.  I've been a bit occupied becoming a TV star. Yeah, okay.  Stardom may be too strong a word, but I've had microphone wires down my back and a bulky, professional video camera in my face for the past week, which sure goes a long way to making one feel like a star.  A film crew from House Hunters

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-41515166780466175442011-06-10T16:09:00.000-04:002011-06-10T16:09:41.325-04:00

Our little casa is a bit off the main path, so to speak.  It's not on a street as Americans would think of one.  To get here you have to walk a stone pedestrian lane - which is considered a sort of main artery despite the lack of vehicular traffic.  But then you go under an arch, down some steps, under another archway, down more steps, and you basically dead-end where our terrazzo opens up to the

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-23103620881701077312011-05-30T06:13:00.000-04:002011-05-30T06:13:59.534-04:00

We probably should have been more culturally minded yesterday.  After all, it was the biggest festa day that Potenza has to offer - the feast day of their saint, San Gerardo.  It is celebrated with a big costumed re-enactment known as the Parata dei Turchi (parade of the Turks) to commemorate a Saracen invasion and the saint's intervention on behalf of the citizenry to save them from the

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-12441024657150162362011-05-22T11:53:00.002-04:002011-05-22T12:00:11.010-04:00

I suppose it was inevitable.  I mean, I live in a small village.  Everyone knows everyone.  Nothing passes unnoticed.  Word gets around town faster than a teen on a scooter.  Everyone knows everything that is happening - or at least some snippets of it.  Like when a couple announced their wedding date and within minutes the whole town marked their calendars, or when the barber's girlfriend gave

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-67246261871521013542011-05-09T14:13:00.002-04:002011-05-09T14:55:50.171-04:00

Yesterday we went back to Ascoli Piceno.  We didn't plan to, but we were sort of in the neighborhood.  We got up very early and went to Abruzzo for a tourism trade show that ended up being smaller than anticipated.  It was a long drive for a bust, but we were only an hour from our former home.  It was nearing lunch time.  We debated a bit; there is a Japanese restaurant in Pescara- and there is

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-64006580899265715282011-05-06T15:43:00.002-04:002011-05-09T11:27:14.848-04:00

If you think my blog posting has been somewhat sporadic, you can imagine that my blog reading has been even less frequent lately.  It's not that I don't want to keep up with my friends and fellow expats, it's just that sometimes life gets in the way.  Like when you sit down to finally type out that email you've been meaning to write and the phone rings, then the coffee pot bubbles over leaving an

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-17766934626799640422011-05-02T07:08:00.001-04:002011-05-02T16:33:49.932-04:00

Remember back when we got our little car, affectionately dubbed Guido because my family has a tradition of naming cars?  How we learned all about car buying in Italy, way back when we first arrived and had little Italian language experience under our belts?  How I was fearful to drive the newly-purchased macchina, especially anywhere within an hour of Rome because it was chaotic and stressful

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-39818831853663608182011-04-17T14:50:00.003-04:002011-04-17T14:57:49.149-04:00

As you already know, my name is Valerie.  My parents chose this name after much debate; they finally drew the name out of a hat, while I and the doctor awaited their decision...three days after I was born.  It's not a bad name, and according to baby name books, it means "strong," which I like.  I'm the only Valerie in the village.  In Ascoli Piceno, all my friends immediately took to calling me

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-7567580263840943732011-04-05T17:20:00.000-04:002011-04-05T17:20:50.459-04:00

It doesn't seem possible that two years have passed since we were rattled awake in the night by the terrible earthquake that shattered the city of L'Aquila.  We were fortunate; we only felt the tremor and not the devastion that it left behind.  Our hearts broke for the Aquilani as they buried their beloved, looked upon the ravages and ruins with tears streaming down their faces, and said proudly

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-80690974918759206992011-03-28T14:06:00.001-04:002011-03-30T02:22:51.515-04:00

Yes, we have become hunters.  We've prowled the woods, scrambled in the underbrush, and tracked through a river in seach of our prey.  We sustained scratches from thorns and sore backs from bending down, along with wet, muddy feet from the marshy areas, all in search of the wild edible known as aspargi.  Before yesterday, I'd never seen an asparago in the wild.  I bought the neatly-rowed

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-7207515831207060242011-03-17T04:49:00.002-04:002011-03-17T06:51:47.465-04:00

Today marks the 150th anniversary of uniting this here peninsula from fractions and kingdoms into a nation .  You'd think it would draw major celebrations, national pride, fireworks even.  In some cities that is true, but much of Italy seems uninterested, even downright indifferent.  While the schools are closed and politicians will no doubt give windy speeches, there are no major celebrations

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-6409703567206265942011-03-08T02:59:00.000-05:002011-03-08T02:59:24.319-05:00

Auguri!  Today is International Women's Day, or la festa delle donne as they call it in Italy.  Unfortunately, my mom left Basilicata yesterday afternoon so we're not able to celebrate it together.  I can't find mimosa blossoms in our village; at our elevation they haven't opened yet.  They'd have snow on them anyway, as we received another dose of white last night. Even though we can't go our

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-1744185272751217932011-02-27T08:27:00.001-05:002011-02-27T08:41:58.239-05:00

Life has certain inevitabilities.  I'm sure you already know that.  Death and taxes are, of course, the most famous.  Living in Italy inevitably means bureaucracy must be mucked through, or that the one time something busts is the one day that the ferramenta (hardware store) is closed. If you're from Cleveland, it's inevitable that you'll root for a losing team.  Oh sure, you'll get your hopes

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-61934662429755515422011-02-14T17:06:00.001-05:002011-02-14T17:06:52.347-05:00

Well Bryan beat me to the video punch by posting a montage of the (ridiculously abundant) footage of Lucano, our cutey-pie kitty.  Sometimes the problem of a two-blogger family is that we have the same news or stories to talk about.  But I'll give it to him because that wasn't the video I was going to share, anyway.  We spent New Year's week on a cruise with Bryan's entire family, a lovely gift

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-42455937246687316852011-02-06T12:31:00.005-05:002011-02-07T03:21:57.896-05:00

Wanted: Residents to live in a charming Italian village. Must want a slower-paced life, laid-back mountain atmosphere, and crave fresh, local foods. Should be middle-age or younger, child-bearing age is even better; should be in good health. You'll enjoy gorgeous landscapes, centuries-old traditions, inexpensive housing, and warm hospitality. I'm tired of funerals.  Today I attended another

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-75998143101084306382011-01-28T03:36:00.002-05:002011-01-28T08:21:56.189-05:00

The preparations started days before. A truckload of sand was mounded in the piazza. Then, for an entire day great logs were conveyed through the streets on a squeaking, suffering tractor. They were painstakingly stacked on the dirt so that, in the end, the teepee of tree trunks reached up one story high. Old men stood beholding the scene and discussing how the bonfire would be bettered if they’d

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-70937597570028775392011-01-14T16:52:00.003-05:002011-02-03T16:49:21.236-05:00

Mea culpa!  I know, it's been an absurdly long time since I've been around.  Scusatemi!  I could fill you in on all the daily activities that have kept me occupied, all the feasts we were forced to endure (I know, sometimes life is tough ;), and all the tribulations of travel that laid me low for a while.  But it would take more time than I have at the moment.  Pazienza, as they constantly say

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-58710222069688910602010-12-13T15:30:00.001-05:002010-12-13T15:35:53.631-05:00

He arrived by surprise...a furry, orange, stripey ball of fur with a purr-motor that wouldn't turn off.  We have seen plenty of cute kitties around the streets of Lucanella, but hadn't expected to have a kitten of our own; however, a friend decided otherwise.  On Thanskgiving, Antonio was bursting with excitement and I couldn't figure out why.  Surely the turkey couldn't elicit such child-like

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-61552663780986372252010-11-24T15:18:00.000-05:002010-11-24T15:18:41.901-05:00

Happy Thanksgiving Day everyone!  First, let me say how thankful I am to have such wonderful friends as you, who come along for the ride and read about our everyday adventures here in the mother land.  Grazie a voi! Remember a few years ago when I gave you my top ten reasons for not celebrating Thanksgiving in Italy that year?  Go ahead; give it another look.  I'll wait. So anyway, that was

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-62803971906221060822010-11-16T12:15:00.000-05:002010-11-16T12:15:15.118-05:00

What does it take to be considered a paesana in a small Italian town?  I've been a formal resident of Lucanella for two months now and have learned through various whisperings and conversations that I am considered a Lucanellese, una vera paesana.  My neighbor recently told me that she was thrilled to hear others say what she had already noticed, that I've "inserted" myself into village life in a

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-37942849060288422852010-11-03T07:29:00.000-04:002010-11-03T07:29:17.597-04:00

The bells sounded out two tones, a solemn bong which faded before a higher-toned clang followed.  They tolled mournfully like that for about fifteen minutes, telling everyone in the village and the surrounding countryside that a funeral would be held shortly.  We've heard the funerary bells before, but it's somewhat chilling when you know the person they're tolling for.  It gave me goosebumps.

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-15362339356696935992010-10-25T11:46:00.001-04:002010-10-25T14:25:15.768-04:00

What month is it, for that matter!  Mamma mia, I can't believe how much time has past since my last post.  I've never left the nest empty for so long before.  It's not that I haven't wanted to write; it's just that I haven't had more than a few minutes to sit down and blog.  My Facebook page has been neglected as well, so please don't feel bad. So what have I been doing?  Well...I found a job

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-28217839789273621212010-09-25T02:27:00.000-04:002010-09-25T02:27:33.344-04:00

Yes boys and girls, I'm still alive!  I arrived in the Motherland sana e salva and am living in my piccola casa.  I apologize or the lengthy absence from the blog; it has been a busy coupla weeks. I found that my house had been happily inhabited in my absence by a whole load of spiders who had apparently decided to take advantage of Italy's squatters' rights law and make the place their own. 

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-34112172641776188922010-09-07T17:30:00.001-04:002010-09-07T17:33:48.781-04:00

You know how much I hate packing.  I love to travel but I don't like the getting there part, and I definitely don't like the packing part.  I fret about taking too much, taking too little, the possible weather fluctuations, the dressy-enough factor, the comfort factor - just don't like it!  This time around, I'm still fretting but I'm not minding it so much, because packing means...I'm getting

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-45397202743399019852010-08-29T16:38:00.001-04:002010-08-30T18:02:06.624-04:00

Now that you know my favorite towns in Italy, I may as well spill the fagioli and tell you where I like to eat when I'm there.  As you know, I'm all about the food; I promise you these ristoranti will do you proud and feed you well. Ascoli Piceno  Cantina dell'Arte.  This is a tough one.  Having lived there for a few years we had several places that captured our hearts (and our stomachs), so

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-18280781322561096332010-08-25T08:32:00.000-04:002010-08-25T08:32:54.403-04:00

Traveling to Italy is always a good idea, but if even if you can't hop a plane right now, you can still enjoy a tour of the boot over at Bleeding Espresso.  My friend Michelle Fabio has put together a wonderful feature that lets you experience beautiful spots all over the peninsula, at least in a virtual sense, written by the people who live there.  Take a spin on her blog and her travel feature,

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-2402714880973304142010-08-12T08:02:00.003-04:002011-09-01T04:10:04.240-04:00

I like to make lists. I don’t know why; it’s just one of those quirks. I like the memes like Five Favorite Words, or Ten Things You Didn’t Know About Me (which I keep meaning to get around to and somehow haven’t quite done it yet). Today I’m giving a Five List – my five favorite towns in Italy. I’ve done a lot of informal email consulting since I started my blog and this is a question that comes

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-53052025708421061532010-07-28T15:43:00.001-04:002010-07-28T15:49:18.101-04:00

It's been years since I worked in a restaurant.  I did a brief stint in college, but was in constant fear that my clumsiness would result in serious wine spillage or a plate of something messy in somebody's lap.  During my sojourn in Lucanella I was called out of waitress retirement to aid my friends. Peppe and Giovanna, the owners of the agriturismo, had been booked up for weeks with First

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-56233728926753263072010-07-22T08:58:00.001-04:002010-07-28T09:01:53.581-04:00

We have been fortunate to find fabulous friends in Lucanella. One such gem is Tonino, without whom none of the work on the house would have been completed. He set up the quotes, called to confirm (and re-confirm!) their work dates, and helped make sure everything went smoothly. He drops things to come help me, and he has a smile that makes his eyes dance. Now that I know him better he has

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-28737300617047613662010-07-08T11:01:00.000-04:002010-07-08T11:01:12.887-04:00

All this talk of house, friends and famiglia has made me a little homesick.  Since I can't run back to Lucanella as I long to do, I decided to take the week off for a trip to Ohio.  I'll be hanging out with my sister and visiting my grandfather.  In my absence, I asked my friend Laura of Ciao Amalfi to share one of her secret spots on Italy's most famous coastline.  She proves there is real life

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-36356947661180601842010-06-30T09:36:00.002-04:002010-07-28T09:03:06.720-04:00

It seemed like such a simple proposition - replace two sets of rotting, broken-down French doors and a small kitchen window.  In my New World mind I envisioned them simply removing the old and installing the new.  I had met with the falegname, or woodworker, while I was in Lucanella in January, who gave me work quotes and material options.  We chose the color we wanted and gave the go-ahead to

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-50495158342975058942010-06-22T08:29:00.002-04:002010-06-22T09:02:51.212-04:00

I had barely disentangled myself from the seatbelt when I saw Anna's face in the bar doorway.  She had spotted me and was waiting, a smile spread broad across her face, arms raising to wave.  "Bentornata!"  Welcome back!  She pulled me into a hug while scurrying me into the bar.  In a flash she was behind the counter, her face beaming while she started preparing a cappuccino, and peppered me with

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-68687670006927452762010-06-15T08:18:00.001-04:002010-06-15T15:51:08.796-04:00

I must be getting old.  Jetlag seems to hit me harder with each trip I take.  Four a.m. awakenings are just not something I enjoy, folks!  The three weeks passed so quickly and were so full of activity...and I have so much to tell!  I have been looking through my notes and debating about where to start.  Rather than begin at the beginning - which would seem so logical, no? - I'll start at the end

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-38383393707213348512010-06-10T11:51:00.002-04:002010-06-10T11:51:59.203-04:00

Hey y'all, I'm back in the nest.  I have an inbox full of ignored messages, a head full of fog, a camera full of pictures, and a heart full of beautiful experiences.  I'll be posting about some of them soon, once the dreaded jetlag subsides.  I have to say that the flight crews on both the outbound and return flights were awesome.  Really, the best I've seen in years.  Kudos to United!  Now if

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-88153494142351554592010-05-17T10:06:00.000-04:002010-05-17T10:06:04.891-04:00

Last time, I played along with the Five Favorite Italian Words meme.  Well today I'm twisting it around to list my Five Least Favorite Italian Words.  Despite the beauty of the language and its musical qualities, there are a few words I dread to hear. Zanzara  (zahn-ZAH-rah).  Mosquito. Le odio perche' mi amano.  I hate them because they love me.  Mosquitoes looove me and will travel great

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-44165256660867285682010-05-13T10:22:00.050-04:002010-08-12T08:55:48.470-04:00

My Five Favorite Italian Words When I was growing up I had a very funny uncle.  He had a quip and a come-back for everything.  We enjoyed long-running jokes that lasted for decades.  He had a famous line that he would deadpan if we tripped over words or jumbled up our sentences:  "We give talking lessons on Thursdays".  Bryan and I uttered that line a lot during our first few months in Italy

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-71911175205483218912010-05-10T15:02:00.002-04:002010-05-18T09:12:02.943-04:00

Vorrei una cucina rustica.  Articulating exactly what "rustic" means can be a challenge, even in my native language.  As I told you last time, I've had a hard time finding a good point of reference as we plan out what to do to create the kind of kitchen we have envisioned.  I leave next week and I am looking forward to scurrying around the countryside in search of antique and once-upon-a-time

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-83912998807787700142010-04-29T12:28:00.000-04:002010-04-29T12:28:01.431-04:00

I’m ditching the remote. I’m pulling the plug on HGTV and breaking away from browsing the magazine racks. I have tossed too much money to publishers of home improvement “guides” that charge ridiculous cover prices for useless fluff. I’ve wasted too many hours in front of the tube in search of inspiration for our renovations only to find myself frustrated and hapless, so I’m calling it quits on

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-82356850691197988142010-04-18T00:03:00.002-04:002010-04-18T07:50:19.272-04:00

Tanti auguri a Roma, the Eternal City is celebrating its 2763rd birthday.  For an old gal, she is still full of vigor, vitality and verve.  The city that was started by orphaned demigods has never forgotten its semi-supernatural birth, somehow pinpointing its fateful founding moment to April 21 and parlaying it into a party celebrating its past. The mythical origins of Rome come from the

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-47277467571889570522010-04-14T15:24:00.001-04:002010-04-14T17:46:23.377-04:00

While looking through some photos recently -old family treasures as well as newer shots- I realized just how many pictures I have (and how many I still need to label, categorize, and edit, but that's another story!)  Both sides of my family have boxloads and hard drives full of photos, so I think it must be a genetic trait to hold on to them instead of weeding them out.  While I really not a

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-10343147646063377772010-04-06T10:27:00.004-04:002010-04-08T08:10:45.333-04:00

This morning at 3:32 a.m. the bells of L'Aquila tolled resonantly, pealing 308 times for each victim of the earthquake that ravaged this city one year ago.  More than 20,000 people braved the high-altitude night chill and threatening rain to gather and commemorate the moment that changed their lives and their city forever.  They snaked through the rubble-strewn centro storico in a solemn torch

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-38042671694334636702010-03-30T14:14:00.000-04:002010-03-30T14:14:01.177-04:00

I received some wonderful emails after the last post, several from folks considering a trip to Basilicata and asking for travel information.  Got me to thinking that maybe I should start an incoming travel agency!  ;)  I have written about our various journeys through Lucania, but thought this would be a good time to provide some links and a recap of some of them for blog newcomers who have

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-53090736731028638472010-03-22T14:49:00.003-04:002010-03-22T14:52:45.705-04:00

I know I've been talking a lot about Basilicata lately.  Only natural, since I just returned and am giddy over the place.  As I read through some of my previous posts from years past, I realize that words just don't do it all justice.  I can utilize every adjective at my disposal ,but the astounding beauty and my visceral reaction to it cannot be fully experienced through black typeface on a

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-1357886324075109232010-03-13T16:14:00.003-05:002010-03-16T13:36:45.088-04:00

My first impression of Potenza several years ago was not a favorable one.  Viewed from the valley as we exited the autostrada to find our way up into the mountains toward my ancestral villages, all I noticed was the industrial gloom and railway tracks.  Looking up toward the city didn't improve my impression much; modern, concrete, glass.  Not much charm, I thought.  I was relieved to get into

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-49403192596312402412010-03-02T11:00:00.001-05:002010-03-02T17:31:11.559-05:00

The village is small, just about 600 inhabitants.  A friend quipped that we're raising the number to 602.  While it's a little joke it is also a small point of pride because in these parts and all throughout the Mezzogiorno, small towns like this are losing population numbers annually as kids go away to college in the north and others seek work in industrial centers throughout Europe, never to

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-65860114307744543682010-02-22T09:05:00.001-05:002010-02-22T09:08:49.706-05:00

My new house is about 350 years old. There has been much discussion among our acquaintances as to the real age of the building. There are probably records in some great book at the city archives that we may one day be able to consult, but that would take away some of the lively debate we have been enjoying. Some friends say it is even older, while others argue for a more "modern"

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-41792949654931315022010-02-17T09:02:00.002-05:002010-02-22T08:53:00.004-05:00

“I don’t have a key or a deed to show for it, but we now own a house in Italy,” I told Bryan in a phone call immediately after the closing. After signing the papers, the notaio informed me that it would take about  a month to complete the official document and send it to me.  As the previous owner dashed from the notaio’s office to catch a taxi, she absentmindedly informed me that she was not in

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-46795402258193852142010-02-12T09:39:00.003-05:002010-02-12T09:45:50.247-05:00

Or, as Maria put it, Thelma and Louise in a Low Rider Doing Under the Tuscan Sun in Basilicata With a Toilet Brush (the complete title). The paperwork was signed.  The deed was read aloud in a tiring session in a notaio's office.  The house officially became ours.  Maria and I packed the Fiesta and prepared to hit the road that would transport us south to Basilicata. Giorgio told us all was well

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-68962722635948535112010-02-08T09:37:00.001-05:002010-02-08T10:42:12.432-05:00

Knowing that internet access would be sporadic throughout the trip I lined up guest bloggers to keep you entertained in my absence.  I hope you enjoyed their insights.  Thanks to Jessica, Giorgio and Pauline for keeping things lively around here!  The three weeks went by far too quickly, but we had a near-lifetime of experiences in a short time span.  Memorable, touching, comical, educational and

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-91789702995509304622010-02-06T16:28:00.001-05:002010-02-06T16:29:19.460-05:00

{drum roll} ...Vicky!  After shoveling a tunnel-like path through nearly 2 feet of snow, Bryan came inside and drew the winning name in the Baci Birthday Bash.  Congrats Vicky!  Since she lives in nearby Maryland I hope we can meet for a cappuccino so I can deliver the Baci treats in person. Thanks to everyone for coming to the party, and for coming along on the adventure.  It means a lot to

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-87059486608990691272010-02-05T16:23:00.000-05:002010-02-05T16:23:22.905-05:00

I found myself stumbling and tripping while desperately filling a glass with water to quench an incredible thirst.  I felt woozy, dizzy, and disoriented, as if beset by a horrible hangover after an all- night binge.  Which I guess was rather to be expected since I just spent the past three weeks inebriating myself on bella Italia and was now paying the price with a bad case of jetlag. I arrived

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-80834470403054361292010-01-30T09:00:00.001-05:002010-01-30T09:00:03.722-05:00

Today we're joined by Pauline Kenny, the queen of slow travel and the brain behind the successful website, SlowTrav.com  She currently runs two informative travel sites, Slow Europe and Cotswolder.  We have been friends with Pauline and her husband Steve for about a decade now.  She is fun, witty, and *the* authority on vacation rentals. I Love Vacation Rentals in Italy Pauline Kenny, January

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-59587614937603511502010-01-25T08:00:00.003-05:002010-01-25T08:00:05.858-05:00

Wow! I can hardly believe it, but 2 Baci in a Pinon Tree turns 5 years old today!  It was in 2005 that I ventured into the uncharted cyber waters of blogdom, dubbed myself a blogette because I thought 'blogger' sounded too amphibious to me, and began writing about bad haircuts, springtime tumbleweed slaughters, and my distaste for garage sales.  I chronicled our near-drowning on the Rio Grande,

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-59047541977663853862010-01-21T09:00:00.002-05:002010-01-21T09:00:05.298-05:00

Many of our Italian friends have said that they enjoy talking to us about Italia, as it allows them a glimpse of their country through the eyes of foreigners.  It gives them a perspective on things they take for granted or just may not think about as being signficant.  Today we're doing that right here, as my friend Giorgio Tomassetti, an Italian college student, tells us what he likes about the

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-67434478314938575422010-01-17T09:01:00.002-05:002010-01-17T09:01:00.305-05:00

While I'm signing paperwork to buy a piccolo appartamento way down in the ankle region of the boot, Jessica Spiegel, of the fabulous site WhyGo Italy, is joining us here in the Pinon Tree, and doing a fine job convincing me that I need to revisit Venice.  Venice was the first city I set foot in on my first trip ever to Italy, and it's still one of my favorite cities on earth. I think I'm

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-13350057628749107352010-01-14T10:30:00.000-05:002010-01-14T10:30:03.187-05:00

I leave tomorrow.  My suitcase is crammed full, my carry-on is ready, and last-minute snags are being ironed out (tocca ferro!) after about twenty international phone calls.  I've been invited to a birthday party the day of my arrival in Rome, and am looking forward to meeting my "brother's" fidanzata (fiance).  I'm running through mental lists hoping that I have everything I need, but at this

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-53996496536991908302010-01-08T08:51:00.002-05:002010-01-08T17:01:34.356-05:00

The long wait is about to end. One week from today I will be boarding a plane that will transport me to Italy where I will finally sign the paperwork on the apartment we are buying. In typical fashion, what seemed to be a routine and easy transaction turned complicated, even beyond the owner's imagination. She had been under the impression that all the necessary title work had previously been

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-17974807544820889832009-12-31T11:17:00.003-05:002009-12-31T11:22:56.336-05:00

Can you believe it's the end of 2009 already?  As you ring in the new year, I wish you a very happy 2010.  May it be a daily adventure of simple pleasures, new discoveries, and joy.  I'm taking snippets of the lyrics of a song by Jovanotti, Buon Anno as my new year's wishes: Ti auguro pace risate e fatica Trovare dei fiori nei campi d'ortica Ti auguro viaggi in paesi lontani Lavori da

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-54600953304109998552009-12-28T17:59:00.004-05:002009-12-31T11:39:45.413-05:00

We are back in Virginia after spending several days cooking, feasting, gabbing, laughing, and enjoying the merriment of the holidays with family.  We had more food than we knew what to do with on Christmas, and shared Giorgio's polenta feast tradition on Santo Stefano.  We had a great time, but we're tuckered out!  Interminable hours on the turnpikes and interstates sap it out of you, and we

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-74644813599168369902009-12-22T10:00:00.003-05:002009-12-22T10:00:00.729-05:00

We are leaving today to drive to Ohio, where we will spend our first Christmas in many years, wrapped in the warm embrace and crazy traditions of our family.  Before I go I wanted to wish you, my blog family, a hearty Buon Natale.  May it be joyous and fun, however you choose to celebrate.  See you when I get back! This image is a detail of the Beffi Triptych, a three-panel painting from the

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-37930004884826035362009-12-19T14:43:00.000-05:002009-12-19T14:43:47.470-05:00

We've got trouble...right here in River City.  With a capital 'T' and that rhymes with 'P' and that stands for 'Precipitation'.  In the form of snow.  Lots of it.  And we're not even in northern Ohio!  There seems to be some kind of mix up.  I am *not* the one who was dreaming of white Christmas.  Not.  Me. The back deck; another few inches have fallen since this was taken. It started last

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-25959675966958775072009-12-16T14:55:00.001-05:002009-12-16T14:56:49.974-05:00

I am wrapping up my series of Italy-related reading with cookbooks.  I admit that while I have quite a few of them, I also rely much more heavily on the scrawled and stained scraps of paper that have sketchy recipes written on them, given to me by Giorgio or other friends, or devised while dining in Italy.  I also bought a few regional cookbooks in Italian which are wonderful, even if they are a

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-36869288589558513532009-12-11T09:53:00.002-05:002009-12-14T20:27:03.991-05:00

In my continuing series of reading material for Italophiles, this week I am highlighting fiction.  I have read a healthy number of novels set in or breezing through Italy; unfortunately many of them left me shaking my head at the errors, stereotypes, or poorly-conceived plots.  This is in no way an exhaustive list, just a few that I enjoyed more than others.  FICTION SET IN ITALY A Room With

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-59991270891596157292009-12-05T10:21:00.003-05:002009-12-14T20:25:35.220-05:00

Today I'm continuing my Italian reading list with the second part of my series of books about Italy. Last time I listed the memoirs; this time around I'm highlighting nonfiction and guidebooks. Guidebooks are difficult to quantify as they are very subjective depending on the reader's taste as well as the destination. One guidebook publisher might offer an excellent book about Rome but fall short

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-9122622610187108772009-12-01T20:08:00.006-05:002009-12-14T20:24:08.657-05:00

I've been dabbling on Facebook the last couple of months.  I was reluctant, being the techno curmudgeon that I am, but I admit that it is kind of fun to zap one-liners and zingers on friends' pages, and post little notes that wouldn't constitute a blog post.  When I wrote about a novel that I was reading that made some Italian errors, several people responded that they would like an Italy-related

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-19010642394088255532009-11-25T16:17:00.001-05:002009-11-25T16:18:44.998-05:00

Thanksgiving is upon us.  The day when the country comes together as one nation indivisible for unbridled eating, the one holiday that truly revolves around food and comes closest to typifying an Italian festa in the volume of food and length of meal.  Each year, friends and family inevitably, innocently ask us, “What do Italians do for Thanksgiving?” The answer is, nothing. Thanksgiving is not

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-69857412936687313792009-11-16T16:34:00.003-05:002009-11-20T16:55:16.497-05:00

After what seemed like an endless week of dreary grayness and relentless rain, the sun found its way back and the weekend turned into a beautiful display of blue skies and brilliant autumn leaves.  A classic Indian Summer, or as they say in Italy, l'estate di San Martino (Saint Martin's Summer). What does a return of sunny warmth in late autumn have to do with Saint Martin, you ask?  His feast

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-76893593254139245782009-11-11T17:43:00.002-05:002009-11-11T17:48:46.046-05:00

I never really gave much thought to the iconic Roman fighters known as gladiators.  Sure, we skimmed over them in my ancient history classes in college, and I read a bit of background when I visited the Colosseum for the first time.  I have seen them talking on cell phones and getting bawdy in coffee bars while on break from their jobs as costumed kitsch performers offering photo ops to tourists

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-41957608850617559732009-11-04T19:32:00.002-05:002009-11-05T17:31:58.630-05:00

Yesterday was my birthday.  While I'm not particularly *thrilled* to admit that I've turned 43, I'm not one to lie about my age, either.  I figure I've lived, experienced, and earned all of the joys, tears, laughs, meals, chores, events, mistakes, excitement, monotony, pleasures, fears, decisions, and dreams of each of those years, and I wouldn't deny any of them.  I don't mind the laugh lines

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-59005286790100108442009-10-26T16:25:00.002-04:002009-10-28T13:32:17.318-04:00

I was strolling through the rotonda of the National Gallery of Art when a gloriously gilded painting caught my eye.  The beautiful triptych was obviously Italian from the Medieval period.  I went to take a closer look and discovered why the altarpiece struck me as familiar; it had been housed in the Castello Spagnolo in L'Aquila, and was brought to the US as a gesture of gratitude for American

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-41445744363594992372009-10-17T10:48:00.004-04:002009-10-17T17:33:44.750-04:00

A friend told me the story of her father-in-law’s emigration from Italy. He left Lucca at age 17 for California, like so many others, in search of opportunity and riches in the New World.  His wife and her family had likewise come from Lucca, but he had long shunned the idea of returning to Italy, despite his kids’ pleadings. Finally, after much insistence that Italy had changed in the forty

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-40052626241672713452009-10-08T14:45:00.001-04:002009-10-08T14:45:58.040-04:00

In my last post I reported on a "home cooking" trend in the US.  As you might expect, Italy takes the concept of home cooking to a different level.  The organization Home Food was started to preserve and showcase the special and unique regional dishes and food products of each area.  "Typical", "traditional" and "regional" are the buzzwords they live and cook by.  They even wax poetic: "Food is

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-23353030442193573672009-10-05T10:00:00.000-04:002009-10-05T10:00:18.330-04:00

Down the street from our house is a little shopping center.  Along with the handful of eateries and shops is a storefront business I'd never heard of before, called Let's Dish.  The window had a menu posted and a glance inside revealed a few stainless steel kitchen prep areas.  Curious, I went inside to inquire about the place. I was told it is a "revolutionary concept" in home cooking.  A "

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-67575953814333881672009-09-26T15:14:00.001-04:002009-09-26T16:14:15.931-04:00

We have had company.  Normally, in years past in our other "destination spot" homes, this meant playing tour guide, finding scenic drives and regional restaurants, and showing our guests all the beauties of the area during their visit.  This time, however, it involved a vastly different itinerary that involved tiring trips up and down the three stories of the townhouse, hours huddled in the

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-3271229972233141362009-09-19T19:16:00.001-04:002009-09-19T19:18:44.943-04:00

Olive all'Ascolana is an Oh-so-good O Food September is national Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month, and I'm getting both my blogs involved to participate in the recipe contest hosted by Michelle of Bleeding Espresso and Sara of Ms. Adventures in Italy, initiated to draw attention to the disease and its symptoms.  The gist of the contest is to highlight a food that begins or ends in O, while talking

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-8035396413097429942009-09-14T17:58:00.001-04:002009-09-14T18:00:38.651-04:00

Ciao tutti!  If it seems like cobwebs have been gathering on the nest, it is because we have been in transit.  The vagabondi have yet again packed up and moved onward.  How many times are we up to since January?  Anyone keeping count?  I can barely keep it all straight in my memory at this point! We feared that we would once again be loading and/or unloading in rain, as has been the trend in our

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-84575895318377477222009-09-08T16:56:00.004-04:002009-09-08T17:03:20.950-04:00

Today is my grandfather's birthday, so I want to give him a rousing shout-out:  Happy Birthday, Gramps!  We went to my hometown on Sunday to take him out for a brunch celebration.  Sunday was my sister's birthday, and ever since her first birthday they have gone out for lunch as a dual celebration, usually just the two of them.  We honed in this year, since it was only the second time in the

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-6952618876837808212009-09-02T14:53:00.006-04:002009-09-02T17:19:07.085-04:00

Fiona Donovan has a big heart.  Living in Alexandria, Virginia, in the Washington, DC metro area, homeless people are not an uncommon sight to her- on park benches, along the roadsides, or roaming the streets.  She was especially bothered that there are children without homes and wanted to do something to help. That's when she struck on an idea to use her natural talents and create art, sell it

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-20626176666270595762009-08-26T10:58:00.005-04:002009-10-15T14:26:53.509-04:00

Last night, for the first time in about three years, I went to a movie. With so many other things to do in Italy, we didn’t spend much time at the cinema. Truth be told, I’ve never been a big movie-goer anyway, so it wasn’t much of a sacrifice, especially when there were concerts in the piazzas, plays in the opulent opera house teatro, and various festas to attend year round. But, having just

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-17045674473961405182009-08-16T18:28:00.006-04:002009-08-16T19:29:16.524-04:00

The weather has finally turned hot; good grief, it took long enough! I was starting to think that 'summer' was not on the northern Ohio calendar year and that only two seasons existed here: winter, and not winter.Seizing the opportunity to get some sun and some Italian atmosphere, we headed down to piccola Italia (Little Italy) for the blow-out party of the year, the Feast of the Assumption. Just

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-41100171769136256262009-08-10T09:20:00.012-04:002009-08-10T16:43:35.619-04:00

Today is San Lorenzo, the feast day of Saint Lawrence, a popular festa throughout Italy. He is the patron saint of librarians and is called upon by comedians and cooks, owing to his famous quip during his martyrdom, "I am roasted enough of this side, turn me over now". He is also one of the patron saints of Rome. The notte di San Lorenzo is widely celebrated, though I suspect it is because his

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-19852113776050058442009-08-06T10:08:00.006-04:002009-08-07T22:24:14.953-04:00

My grandmother’s name was Rose. She had a cousin Rose, who traveled to Italy a couple years agoto meet us, accompanied by my cousin Celia. We all spent a wonderful week on the beautiful Costa del Cilento, hanging out together, cooking together, and visiting the Motherland together.Both of these Roses were named for their aunt Rosa, who was the sister of my grandma’s mother, and who is referred to

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-71459403352807147922009-07-31T09:11:00.004-04:002009-07-31T14:49:59.200-04:00

The past few weeks have been pretty busy so I put blog-reading on the back burner. But after just a week I started missing my normal haunts and feeling withdrawal symptoms. I initiated a sort of "rotation system" to try to read a couple a day, just to keep up with things.Then yesterday I went on a bender. I sat down with my bookmarks and blissed my way through a few hours of unabated blog

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-45115215353463308172009-07-24T09:13:00.004-04:002009-07-25T15:34:04.153-04:00

One of the (many) things we love about life in Italy is the sense of community. People gather in the piazzas, chat on park benches, and meet regularly for un caffe` or aperitivo in their favorite haunt. The mom-and-pop shop is still alive and well and steadfastly supported by neighborhood residents.We knew that when we bought veggies at the mercato dell'erbe the person we were buying from was

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10351416.post-40974324712166109072009-07-17T09:00:00.004-04:002009-07-17T09:41:32.362-04:00

Eric Newby was a wonderful travel writer who chronicled his experiences as an escaped prisoner of war being protected and housed by Italians in his famous book, Love and War in the Apennines. His sequel of sorts was A Small Place in Italy, where Newby tells of returning to Italy with his wife to buy a casa. With characteristic dry wit and descriptive character sketches, he recounts the

Valeriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01055759718776417654noreply@blogger.com19