Just because

...it's been raining a bunch...

 the river is raging, and

 we had a few landslides on the road and

and a huge chunk of one of our terrace walls collapsed.

Just because Augusto gave us a huge chunk of goat...

we had a lunch party on the patio on a Tuesday in January.

Just because she could...

 Mette wrote a book.  Look, there she is on the inside cover!

It's very beautifully done.  How nice is it that she gave me the very first copy?  Very very nice, 'specially since the day she gave it to me was HER birthday and I'd forgotten.  It's not available yet to buy, but I'll let you all know as soon as it is.

Just because he's a really good guy....

David bought me some happy flowers for my studio.

So I was online the other day trying to book some tickets to the States. For some reason involving security or something I was having a hard time actually making a purchase. I kept getting a message saying that I'm not authorized to use my own credit cards...yes, cardS plural, I tried three with the same unsuccessful results. I skyped my mom, we tried with her card. Apparently the lack of security clearance for one's own freakin credit cards runs in our family. Her card didn't work either.

Screw it, I thought, I want to talk to a person. I went to the Swiss Air "contact us" page which gave a list world-wide of places I could call for help. In retrospect, I should have called Switzerland a)because it was Swiss-frickin-Air and b) because, as a people, the Swiss are the most organized and problem-solving-ist people I've come across. Actually they are a close second behind the Germans, but the Swiss are more polite. Yeah yeah, I know. I shouldn't stereo-type whole cultures of people. But wait before you pass judgement on my judgements. Listen to what happened when I first called the USA and then Italia.

calling the USA:
recording  "Thank you for calling Swiss Air. You are eligible for 2 100 dollar vouchers now just for taking our 3 minute survey. To retrieve your gift vouchers now press one to be connected to our shipping department. Press one now to collect your vouchers. I said, press one now."

 pause

 "to redeem your free gifts press one to be connected with our shipping department now. Press one now. If you would like to speak with a representative, stay on the line."  

pause I stayed on the line.

"congratulations! you've just won a 2-day cruise in the Bahama's for 2! Just press 2 now to redeem your prise and to book additional days for your 2-day Bahama's cruise. Press 2 now."  

Pause

"press 2 now for your free cruise! I said, press 2 now. If you require assistance with anything else or would like a customer representative call 1-800-6474836773839847839373793937."  

click

 So I called Italy:  

real person speaking italian "Hello, thank you for calling Swiss Air, this is Luigi, how may I help you?"  

me-- blah blah blah "won't accept my credit card"  

Luigi-- "hmmmm. yes. I don't know why that would be. Did you enter the address correctly?"  

me-- "yes. 3 times. different cards. The cards all have US addresses."  

Liugi-- "oh well, that's the problem. it probably doesn't accept cards with US addresses."  

me, feeling shocked and more than slightly dumbfounded -- "Swiss Air online doesn't accept US credit cards?"

 Luigi -- "well, sure, but if you are trying to use it from Italy, probably not."  

me -- "probably not? Luigi, could you ask someone, what the problem might be, or how I could solve it?"  

Luigi -- "sure, one moment.......ok, I found out the easiest thing for you to do is go to the post office and get a prepaid credit card for the amount of the tickets and then buy them with that."  

me, feeling embarrassed for what I'm about to ask -- "I have an idea, what if my parents buy the tickets for me from the States. Would that work?"  

Luigi -- "hmmm? let me go ask.......ok, um, no. that wouldn't work. Not from the US."

 me-- "so you're saying that people can buy other people plane tickets just not people who are in the US?"  

Luigi -- "yes."  

me-- "well, Luigi, thanks. You've been very helpful."

Who wants to do some stereotyping now?

Pig Party 2013, day two

For those of you who don't know what a Pig Party is, it looks something like this:





For those of you not fluent in wine soaked Italian with hints of Calabrase dialect the discourse goes something like this:

F: some people just want to do a little work, eat some meat and a little fat, even without bread...

A: Yesterday

F: Ah, but Augu, you know I don't understand english.

A: what do you mean you don't understand english.  you understand it when you want to.

F: ah, but, no, I don't understand,.....

A: thank you.  cheers.  All the best

F:  all the best.

Pressed and Dressed and

ready for some pork.

Photos to follow.

There's nothing quite like the sounds of Christmas music filling the house to put a girl in that yuletide spirit.

And my version of O Holy Night on the viola is nothing like Christmas music.

I'll keep practicing in hopes that my playing will one day meet the very high standards of this blog. Until then please enjoy this little bit of holiday cheer brought to you from Italy, brought to me from Denmark (thanks, Mette).


Merry Christmas, everyone.

Maybe I could learn to like it....

The weather in our corner of the world has been beautiful throughout November and December.  Warm, sunny, dry, gorgeous.  Scary gorgeous like we are all just holding our breath waiting for the crappy weather to hit all at once. 

Until then, let's go outside and....

Yep, pick some olives.  No, we didn't pick our own olives.  This year, we went with the professionals.

And I must say, they know how to do it well.

As you all may recall, picking olives in not on my list of favorite things to do.  In fact, it IS on my list of least favorite things to do.  But then these guys

brought us some of this

And we did this

So I agreed to pick olives with them.  By the way, the jar in that photo above is sugar, not salt.  Fresh olive oil, really fresh olive oil, like squeezed yesterday olive oil has a bit of a bite, so some folks like to sprinkle sugar on it.  This is what ligurian kids used to have for a snack when they came home from school.  Beats the shit out of dry jello from the box.

So last Thursday, on one of those gorgeous days we are having, David and I went to Franco's land to "help" pick his olives.  His land has quite a nice view

of the town of Badalucco

Franco and Gino had been picking olives since about 6am,  6am every day for two weeks.  David and I got there about 10am, when there were just 4 trees left to pick.  By noon we were done.  Phew!  That was a lot of work!  Sarcasm.

Franco's land, whilst it has a lovely view, is rather steep.  So after all the olives had been picked, this had to happen

up several terraces to the car.  They were lucky I was there to help with this.  Sarcasm.

After 6 crates of olives were dropped off at the frantoio (olive press), it was time for lunch.

 A light bowl of semin (sp?)...a soup/stew like dish with every vegetable imaginable, beans, and just for fun, pork ribs, sausage, and skin.

By 2.30 we were back at the frantoio to watch the oil making.

I could explain the process but well, go here if you want to read about it.  They do a better job explaining it than I would.
And finally, a little glass (or two) with the owner of the frantoio

 and a toast to Franco's olives.

Stay tuned for the next Franco and Gino adventure when David and Lynn go sailing.

So far...

I love this year.  2013 has been the best year yet.  In general, every year seems to be getting better and better and this one hasn't disappointed.  I don't want to ruin my blog fodder for new year's eve so I won't list all the cool stuff that has happened this year.  Let me just say that today I love 2013 because tomorrow is our Italian designated Thanksgiving and David and I are not hosting it this year.  Yes, having my entire family here for my cousins' most awesome wedding made 2013 memorable but right now I'm ecstatic that 2013 is our off year. 

Ok, a little behind the scenes note:  I just asked David how you spell ecstatic and he said, "what's ecstatic?" "ME.  I'm ecstatic because I'm not cleaning the house and cooking a big ass turkey because we are having 12 people over for a feast tomorrow."  To which my husband looked at me and said, "cooking a turkey?  have you ever cooked a turkey?"   Yeah, ok, good point.  I'm really happy that I'm not cleaning the house and making my grandma's green beans and that David is not cooking everything else involved in hosting thanksgiving.

Really, I'm not lazy.  It's just that cooking and cleaning are right up there on my list of least favorite things to do.

Hanging out with our friends and extended family (on the dogs' side) is however right up there on my list of favorite things to do.  So, in prep for going to friends' Christine and Valerio's super clean house for a feast of food they've prepared, I am doing this, my usual off-year contribution to thanksgiving..



Where I take these greasy, hard craisin-ish things, pretend that they are cranberries....

And pretend that these mandarins are oranges

And whip up a concoction that we will all call cranberry sauce tomorrow.  I can get away with this because the only americans at the dinner, who know what real cranberry sauce is, are David and my dear friend Christine.  And they won't say anything.

So, here's to 2013.