"Please come in, Signor Cornwell. The dentist will see you now."
David relaxes in the dentist's chair, as one can only do in the chair of a dentist, while the assistant shouts out to the doctor what needs to be done "cavity in 14, 23, 27" (or whatever the numbers are for identifying teeth). After 45 minutes of drilling and topping off cavities David goes to the secretary to settle the bill. He notices that the file sitting on the counter, the file the office had been working from, is mine.
"Ummm, just for the record, that file is my wife's. I'm DAVID Cornwell, not Lynn."
Small, nervous laughter, "good thing you and your wife have cavities in the same teeth."
So it goes.
And just for our record here, the dentist was french, not italian.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Wednesday, March 09, 2011
let the training begin....
Last night we were invited to a dinner for "festa della donna" (women's day) at Carmello and Anna's house. Carmello is a funeral director. Anna's recently had surgery on both her feet...and was STILL an excellent hostess. Carmello's son-in-law is a guard at the local prison. His name is Ciccio (which means "chubby one" and is pronounced "chicho") and he did all the cooking.
There were about 12 of us there. It was a lovely evening.
Ciccio is Calabrese and really wants to take David and me down to Calabria next time he goes - to show us the real Italy. He described a typical day there like this:
8.30am - primo colazione (first breakfast) with fresh goat cheese and bread...and wine.
10am - colazione (second breakfast) in the town square with pork sandwiches...and wine (no glasses, everyone just brings their own bottle).
1.30pm - apperativo with salami, bread ...and wine.
At 2pm lunch starts and goes until about 7pm.
Dinner starts at 10pm and usually lasts until 2am.
I'd like to interject here, for those readers who are not hip to the nuances of the regions and politics of Italy. Southern Italians are known for being lazy and a drain on the state. Well, excuse me but it's no wonder those paesano's down south don't work -- there's no TIME.
David and I figure that if we go on this holiday we'd have to do it as a relay team - he could take the first half of he day, we'd pass the baton over lunch and then I'd finish the day.
Ciccio thinks we should rent a 9 person van and get a group to go. Friends, I have to tell you now that I'm on board that caravan! Of course, I'd need to start now with some training...I'll start having wine at breakfast (twice), lunch and dinner, in addition to those extra meals I'll have to add to my normal eating routine.
It's basically the Italian Ironman and I'm ready to take the challenge.
There were about 12 of us there. It was a lovely evening.
Ciccio is Calabrese and really wants to take David and me down to Calabria next time he goes - to show us the real Italy. He described a typical day there like this:
8.30am - primo colazione (first breakfast) with fresh goat cheese and bread...and wine.
10am - colazione (second breakfast) in the town square with pork sandwiches...and wine (no glasses, everyone just brings their own bottle).
1.30pm - apperativo with salami, bread ...and wine.
At 2pm lunch starts and goes until about 7pm.
Dinner starts at 10pm and usually lasts until 2am.
I'd like to interject here, for those readers who are not hip to the nuances of the regions and politics of Italy. Southern Italians are known for being lazy and a drain on the state. Well, excuse me but it's no wonder those paesano's down south don't work -- there's no TIME.
David and I figure that if we go on this holiday we'd have to do it as a relay team - he could take the first half of he day, we'd pass the baton over lunch and then I'd finish the day.
Ciccio thinks we should rent a 9 person van and get a group to go. Friends, I have to tell you now that I'm on board that caravan! Of course, I'd need to start now with some training...I'll start having wine at breakfast (twice), lunch and dinner, in addition to those extra meals I'll have to add to my normal eating routine.
It's basically the Italian Ironman and I'm ready to take the challenge.
Monday, March 07, 2011
little beaded flowers, again
So, I get these emails from my friend Martha everyday with little helpful household hints, recipes, decorating ideas, and craft projects. Today she send this one.
Makes me think that she must have asked Jeeves for some help with a little electrical problem she was having like this.
Martha, call an electrician.
Makes me think that she must have asked Jeeves for some help with a little electrical problem she was having like this.
Martha, call an electrician.
Saturday, March 05, 2011
bull's-eye
It's finished!
I'm so very pleased. Looking at it just makes me want to take a long hot bubble bath so I can put my clean naked feet on this rug.
David says it makes him want to play darts.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
A bit of Thursday randomness...
1. In the past couple of weeks I've been in more official offices than I have in the previous 8 years living here combined. Ok, that's probably an exaggeration but, well, it FEELS like that. Anyway, after every new visit I leave the just visited office feeling shocked, amazed, dumbfounded, frustrated, excited, confused, amused, and I'm invariably laughing. I've come to realize that Italy and my husband have a lot in common - I don't understand how either of them function but I'm frequently awed and always entertained and I love them both.
2. I have just one thing to say...crayon rings.
These little beauties are still in their incubation phase, but I know they've got potential!
Perhaps my need to break, melt, and carve perfectly good children's drawing materals into fashion accessories has something to do with number 1.
2. I have just one thing to say...crayon rings.
These little beauties are still in their incubation phase, but I know they've got potential!
Perhaps my need to break, melt, and carve perfectly good children's drawing materals into fashion accessories has something to do with number 1.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Taggiaschi
So, Saturday night was the festa of San Benedetto in Taggia. I'm sure I've posted before about San Benedetto...it's when they set the town of Taggia on fire.
Folklore has it that when groups of warriors were making their way around the Riviera, raping and pillaging, they skipped the town of Taggia. Ya know why? Because the clever Taggiaschi (people of Taggia) knew that the bastards wouldn't waste their time sacking a town that had already been sacked...so these ingenious Taggiaschi set the town on fire on their own! They destroyed their own damn town so the invaders couldn't! Damn clever.
In celebration of their brilliant forefathers, current Taggiaschi annually set their city aflame.
This year we were invited to a pre-festival dinner at the parents of one of my friends. We had tripe with beans and pork with, well, I don't know what but it was delicious. Halfway through the dinner we realized that the woman sitting across from us was our insurance agent. It wasn't until we heard her name, Maria Pia, that we figured out who she was. One just doesn't meet too many Maria Pia's floating around...even in Italy. Here's my friend and her parents.
And here's Maria Pia.
Here's Maria Pia's husband, who had kind of taken David under his wing by the end of dinner.
Then, the festivities began. The way the festival works is that anyone with a cantina (a cellar) opens their doors for friends and family to come in to celebrate. People without cantina's wander the streets going from one huge bonfire to the next, on the way they stop in every open cantina for a glass of wine and something to eat (as if the tripe hadn't been enough). Think of a city wide pub crawl but with good wine and even better food and it's free. Ok, forget the pub crawl thing...San Benedetto is nothing like a pub crawl.
Anyway, since everyone in Taggia has lived in Taggia their whole life, and is probably related some how to the original Taggaschi who fought off the invaders pretty much every cantina is open to everybody. Or so it seemed to me and the group we were traveling with. But then again, the open doors to us could have had something to do with the fact that the vice mayor was in our group.
Meet Ivan.
We started first at his mother's cantina. Here's Ivan's mom.
Then, as one does we wandered the streets of Taggia...actually I saw parts of Taggia that I never knew existed. Taggia is a big town! Who knew? We were with a group, so we travelled in a group. If one person stayed longer to chat at one cantina, the whole group stayed. This got a bit tough for the people in our group when David and I started running into everyone we've ever met from Taggia -- parents of former students, neighbors, friends, friends of friends, the lady who sells me garden supplies....
And then David really put us at risk of losing our group for good when we stumbled across the cantina of BARBA ROSSA. He was so shocked and happy to see the Americans he sold the turkey to that before I knew it David had two plates piled high with hot meat and an overflowing glass of wine.
"I thought you guys lived in Carpasio or something! NOT Taggia! Here have some more pork." Carpasio is like 15 km up the valley - it's home to many foreigners who, obviously, never come to San Benedetto.
To which David promptly responded, "We live in Maberga! You need to come over for a cook out! We have an awesome grill! This pork is outstanding." Now, I think that's nice of David to think that that piece of shit pile of rocks that I made is really awesome but I doubt the best butcher in the area with see its beauty. When I finally pulled David away to join our increasingly impatient group they were setting a date for this grill out.
Back on the road with the group I found myself apologizing to Ivan, "I'm sorry we were so long. He's our butcher."
"I hope we don't run into your baker" was Ivan's response.
The night ended for us at this cantina, which has the reputation as being the best one. It was pretty festive...what with the music and the singing and all.
It was 1.30 when we told our hosts that we needed to head back to Maberga. "But you'll miss the hot chocolate and pastaccini in OUR cantina!"
"When do you do that?!"
"3.30"
We couldn't make it. For all the warm welcomes we had in every cantina from friends and locals and butchers, in the end we showed our true colors...we are not real Taggiaschi. Had we lived in Taggia at the times of the raping and pillaging, we wouldn't have been with our fellow towns people burning...we would have been sleeping.
Folklore has it that when groups of warriors were making their way around the Riviera, raping and pillaging, they skipped the town of Taggia. Ya know why? Because the clever Taggiaschi (people of Taggia) knew that the bastards wouldn't waste their time sacking a town that had already been sacked...so these ingenious Taggiaschi set the town on fire on their own! They destroyed their own damn town so the invaders couldn't! Damn clever.
In celebration of their brilliant forefathers, current Taggiaschi annually set their city aflame.
This year we were invited to a pre-festival dinner at the parents of one of my friends. We had tripe with beans and pork with, well, I don't know what but it was delicious. Halfway through the dinner we realized that the woman sitting across from us was our insurance agent. It wasn't until we heard her name, Maria Pia, that we figured out who she was. One just doesn't meet too many Maria Pia's floating around...even in Italy. Here's my friend and her parents.
And here's Maria Pia.
Here's Maria Pia's husband, who had kind of taken David under his wing by the end of dinner.
Then, the festivities began. The way the festival works is that anyone with a cantina (a cellar) opens their doors for friends and family to come in to celebrate. People without cantina's wander the streets going from one huge bonfire to the next, on the way they stop in every open cantina for a glass of wine and something to eat (as if the tripe hadn't been enough). Think of a city wide pub crawl but with good wine and even better food and it's free. Ok, forget the pub crawl thing...San Benedetto is nothing like a pub crawl.
Anyway, since everyone in Taggia has lived in Taggia their whole life, and is probably related some how to the original Taggaschi who fought off the invaders pretty much every cantina is open to everybody. Or so it seemed to me and the group we were traveling with. But then again, the open doors to us could have had something to do with the fact that the vice mayor was in our group.
Meet Ivan.
We started first at his mother's cantina. Here's Ivan's mom.
Then, as one does we wandered the streets of Taggia...actually I saw parts of Taggia that I never knew existed. Taggia is a big town! Who knew? We were with a group, so we travelled in a group. If one person stayed longer to chat at one cantina, the whole group stayed. This got a bit tough for the people in our group when David and I started running into everyone we've ever met from Taggia -- parents of former students, neighbors, friends, friends of friends, the lady who sells me garden supplies....
And then David really put us at risk of losing our group for good when we stumbled across the cantina of BARBA ROSSA. He was so shocked and happy to see the Americans he sold the turkey to that before I knew it David had two plates piled high with hot meat and an overflowing glass of wine.
"I thought you guys lived in Carpasio or something! NOT Taggia! Here have some more pork." Carpasio is like 15 km up the valley - it's home to many foreigners who, obviously, never come to San Benedetto.
To which David promptly responded, "We live in Maberga! You need to come over for a cook out! We have an awesome grill! This pork is outstanding." Now, I think that's nice of David to think that that piece of shit pile of rocks that I made is really awesome but I doubt the best butcher in the area with see its beauty. When I finally pulled David away to join our increasingly impatient group they were setting a date for this grill out.
Back on the road with the group I found myself apologizing to Ivan, "I'm sorry we were so long. He's our butcher."
"I hope we don't run into your baker" was Ivan's response.
The night ended for us at this cantina, which has the reputation as being the best one. It was pretty festive...what with the music and the singing and all.
It was 1.30 when we told our hosts that we needed to head back to Maberga. "But you'll miss the hot chocolate and pastaccini in OUR cantina!"
"When do you do that?!"
"3.30"
We couldn't make it. For all the warm welcomes we had in every cantina from friends and locals and butchers, in the end we showed our true colors...we are not real Taggiaschi. Had we lived in Taggia at the times of the raping and pillaging, we wouldn't have been with our fellow towns people burning...we would have been sleeping.
Wednesday, February 09, 2011
The Hypocritcal Collection
Is it hypocrisy to be really proud to be from Wisconsin seeing the Packers win the Superbowl when I also am really glad I don't live there? Can I do that?
I mean, can I post here a bunch of green and gold stuff that I collected to show my team spirit?
And can I brag to you how freakin' awesome the Green Bay Packers are as an NFL team? And brag that all the players and coaches and staff were saying, "We're bringing the trophy home!"...HOME. Yeah, because Wisconsin is so awesome that we had Lombardy?
Can I do that when, just 3 days after the big game, a morning in February, I spent the morning in shirt sleeves cleaning the terraces and harvesting veggies from my garden -- all the while praising God that I live where I do? Is that hypocritical?
Yeah, probably. So, I'd like to present the hypocritical winter collection:
The "Go Packers" earrings
which, if you'd like buy yourself a treat for being such a great GB fan, can be found in my Etsy shop.
And the Winter Orto collection...
which I will share the recipes I use with you, just after I do a google search to find out what all those veggies are.
I mean, can I post here a bunch of green and gold stuff that I collected to show my team spirit?
And can I brag to you how freakin' awesome the Green Bay Packers are as an NFL team? And brag that all the players and coaches and staff were saying, "We're bringing the trophy home!"...HOME. Yeah, because Wisconsin is so awesome that we had Lombardy?
Can I do that when, just 3 days after the big game, a morning in February, I spent the morning in shirt sleeves cleaning the terraces and harvesting veggies from my garden -- all the while praising God that I live where I do? Is that hypocritical?
Yeah, probably. So, I'd like to present the hypocritical winter collection:
The "Go Packers" earrings
which, if you'd like buy yourself a treat for being such a great GB fan, can be found in my Etsy shop.
And the Winter Orto collection...
which I will share the recipes I use with you, just after I do a google search to find out what all those veggies are.
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