Home from Italy now for 2 months - as long as we were gone for.
It doesn't seem possible.
For my Italian fix, I have to settle for Montepulciano di Abruzzo (a region near Rieti) wine from Trader Joe's and the new Italian restaurant up the street with an Italian speaking waitstaff, but less than authentic Italian food.
And there is no comparison for Italian coffee. Can't find it. Anywhere. (Cafe Trieste in San Jose came VERY close. If you live near there, I envy you.)
I've moved over to Monday Musings at www.danahymom.blogspot.com where you can find more of my ramblings if ya'll are interested.
Ciao.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
Summer Pictures
Pictures are up at Kodak share.
These are some of the summer highlights,
Enjoy!
http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=14fuwi0r.4s2u9g17&x=0&y=z5nw36&localeid=en_US
(couldn't figure out how to make it link. You'll have to cut and paste into your browser...)
These are some of the summer highlights,
Enjoy!
http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=14fuwi0r.4s2u9g17&x=0&y=z5nw36&localeid=en_US
(couldn't figure out how to make it link. You'll have to cut and paste into your browser...)
Basta Italia
Our Italian adventure is almost done. Brian had Friday off, due to the festiva and Ferreagosto – a celebration that used to last the whole month as decreed by Augustus, but now the Italians only celebrate for one day (which typically is then used as an excuse to make a 3 day weekend, thereby shutting everything down *again*) Colin and I drove around on Friday afternoon (during the riposo) to see if per chance the grocery store (known to be open at odd times) was open. No luck. In fact, EVERYTHING was closed. Creepily so. The town was a ghost town – and more so than usual during the riposo. Surprisingly the local McDonald’s was open (but really, are we so surprised with the far reaching prevalence of American capitalism?) Lucky for us too, as we depleted almost all our food for lunch. If not for McDonalds, we were each eating one hard-boiled egg with a teaspoon of cooked spinach “on the side” for dinner. One thing to say about ferreagosto: driving in the twilight zone of an empty Italian town is a piece of cake.
So it was off to Mickey D’s for dinner – the kids were ecstatic. And I didn’t really mind the chicken sandwich – since I never got into cooking chicken in Italy: couldn’t get past the packaged whole chicken, neck, head, feet and all thing.
Saturday morning – our last morning to sleep in, and my last morning cappuccino at the bar. I was more than a little sad about this. I did manage to see the couple that I had met a few weeks earlier. They wished me goodbye and best wishes – with the double cheek kiss thing. Very sweet actually. I said goodbye to the barrista, after communicating that we were leaving for good, and not just going on vacation again. “Italia fini” I said to her. “Basta Italia?” she replies, which I think translates into “enough of Italy”
Sadly, not enough. Can anyone really get enough of Italia? I thought I had enough at the beginning of our stay… when the parade of true Italian characters (not even conceivable to the most colorful author’s imagination) came traipsing through the apartment to help the poor American family with no hot water. Or when the heat outside was truly skin-melting. Or even when my ever sociable- self craved conversation with the over 5, 8, 12 and 14 set.
Due to the ferreagosto continuation, my internet café proprietor friends took the weekend off, as did the people from Paldo’s pizzeria. Our landlords and my friend Cindy were also all gone – so I didn’t get to exchange goodbyes and thanks for all their help over the past 2 months. I feel slightly unfinished about not saying goodbye. I like to have closure. I’m sure we’ll try and contact some of them over the next few weeks. Reimbursement for the apartment costs is resting on our landlords ability to produce a receipt for Uncle Baxter to approve: I imagine a few more calls to them using my “Engliano” will be in my future.
Brian did not get the green light to come back immediately to Rieti. [The good news to this is that we get to have him home for more than the originally planned 5 days] Which meant packing everything up. And cleaning out the apartment. A small Heculean task. [Hmm, what exactly might that be? Hercules fighting like an old blind lion? Or just a 2 headed monster instead of a 3 headed one?]
It felt like living life in rewind mode. Everything that was taken out, had to be put back. But we did most of it before trying to find a place to eat lunch on Saturday. Again: Nothing. Open. At least this time, the store was open, as was the pizzeria connected with it (Jackie and Brenda: no pictures…very disappointed in myself) so we had our final pizza.
At 5:00 we went over to one of Brian’s co-worker’s houses for some dinner. He and his family hosted us for some snacks and a game of American football (we brought the football) We had been joined by another co-worker (who used to play American football in Italy – see the book “Playing for Pizza” by John Grisham for a description of American football in Italy) who was anxious to play with Brian and the boys. They were joined by the host – who needed instructions on the game- and a variety of children. Our four were joined by 5 other girls (all under age 8) and 2 little cousins. Our host lives on a lovely piece of land in Rieti. A multi-familied building – but all the families are related. I was treated to a little tour of the gardens. They grow grapes and make their own wine [1000 liters a year] – we sampled some wine too. We saw their chickens, their rabbits, their cats and Argo the dog: clearly the ruler of the land. He enjoyed the football too – even trying to get it and take it away with him. We were informed that Argo eats everything.
E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. Raw eggs. Grapes. Stems. Leaves. Pigeons. No small children yet though – so Ed was safe.
During the game, one of the brother-in-laws came home with his family (probably from the beach since that’s where everyone else in Italy went this weekend) and he turned out to be the property manager for our apartment who we met the first week in Italy when we signed the papers. Crazy, crazy small world.
We were also treated to meeting our hosts’ parents - who live there too and work the farm/gardens in their retirement(a family affair.) Warm and beautiful people. Very kind and very interested in how we liked living in Rieti – their family has been there for generations. When I shared how much I really liked Rieti, I earned the respect of Mama, who was quite generous in her assessment of the crazy American family with all the kids. Mama and Papa were busy putting tomatoes up for (I’m sure a fantastic) batch of sauces later. Just before they left for the evening, they tried to give us bountiful box of home-grown tomatoes, but since we were leaving in less than 12 hours, we couldn’t take any with us. We were all disappointed.
We thought we were going to get pizza and eat it outside on the porch with all the mosquitos, but it turned out that we were all to go down the road to a local restaurant. The history of the restaurant is quite scandelous: it was opened by the (rumored, but probably true) illegitimate son of Mussolini who then passed on the management to his son. *He* we met when our huge party of 16 showed up for dinner. We ate outdoors under the canopy of a huge tree. There was a park within the lawn of the place, so the little kids took off to play – all more comfortable with each other after a few hours of playing with Argo and blowing bubbles together. Julia and the other 8 year old girl became fast friends. I only wish we could have gotten them together earlier in the trip. Dinner was another Italian feast. Delicious antipasti and then pasta dishes for most of us. The Italian’s did the ordering for us (so much easier this way!!!) And since Brian’s coworkers speak English fluently, we were able to have some really good conversation with our food and wine. The other wives were not as fluent, so some translating was done, (when they weren’t checking on their girls on the playground.) The term “Baxter widow” was not lost on one of the other wives: she shares some of my own displeasure at the amount of time we spend alone with our kids – especially during shut-down. Although, I must add, this summer has been fantastic. We got to have Brian during shut-down and home every night at an early hour. AND we got to see him in the morning before we drove him to work… well, except Aidan, who slept in every day.
We ended the evening (too soon for all the kids) watching part of the lunar eclipse. Aidan tried to convince us that he wanted to stay up and watch the whole thing – until 2 am. We quickly shot that down, reminding him that we had to leave the house at 6 am to make our plane.
Goodbyes, Ciaos and more cheek kissing closed a most pleasant evening and also our stay in Italia.
And now we’re on a plane. Colin and I are in business class. It’s his birthday today. He wasn’t too pleased with the day at first, but he’s been fed hamburgers and chocolate, and can watch a variety of movies on demand – so he’s better now. I agree that it’s a bummer of a way to spend a birthday (which I have experienced on an angst-filled flight back from Chicago…but that’s a whole ‘nother chapter.) On the plus side, he gets an extra 9 hours to celebrate.
There is a song on Italian radio (RTL…Cento-due-cinque) right now named, “Ciao… Arrivederci” It’s been humming through my head for a few days. Of course just the title of it has been humming through – because I don’t do the words to songs thing (because I’m too busy listening to the music. The accordian is really an under-appreciated instrument. You think I’m joking. I’m not. ) But the title alone will do as an ending. Yep. That’ll do.
Ciao.
Arrivederci.
Ready or not, here we come…..
home.
So it was off to Mickey D’s for dinner – the kids were ecstatic. And I didn’t really mind the chicken sandwich – since I never got into cooking chicken in Italy: couldn’t get past the packaged whole chicken, neck, head, feet and all thing.
Saturday morning – our last morning to sleep in, and my last morning cappuccino at the bar. I was more than a little sad about this. I did manage to see the couple that I had met a few weeks earlier. They wished me goodbye and best wishes – with the double cheek kiss thing. Very sweet actually. I said goodbye to the barrista, after communicating that we were leaving for good, and not just going on vacation again. “Italia fini” I said to her. “Basta Italia?” she replies, which I think translates into “enough of Italy”
Sadly, not enough. Can anyone really get enough of Italia? I thought I had enough at the beginning of our stay… when the parade of true Italian characters (not even conceivable to the most colorful author’s imagination) came traipsing through the apartment to help the poor American family with no hot water. Or when the heat outside was truly skin-melting. Or even when my ever sociable- self craved conversation with the over 5, 8, 12 and 14 set.
Due to the ferreagosto continuation, my internet café proprietor friends took the weekend off, as did the people from Paldo’s pizzeria. Our landlords and my friend Cindy were also all gone – so I didn’t get to exchange goodbyes and thanks for all their help over the past 2 months. I feel slightly unfinished about not saying goodbye. I like to have closure. I’m sure we’ll try and contact some of them over the next few weeks. Reimbursement for the apartment costs is resting on our landlords ability to produce a receipt for Uncle Baxter to approve: I imagine a few more calls to them using my “Engliano” will be in my future.
Brian did not get the green light to come back immediately to Rieti. [The good news to this is that we get to have him home for more than the originally planned 5 days] Which meant packing everything up. And cleaning out the apartment. A small Heculean task. [Hmm, what exactly might that be? Hercules fighting like an old blind lion? Or just a 2 headed monster instead of a 3 headed one?]
It felt like living life in rewind mode. Everything that was taken out, had to be put back. But we did most of it before trying to find a place to eat lunch on Saturday. Again: Nothing. Open. At least this time, the store was open, as was the pizzeria connected with it (Jackie and Brenda: no pictures…very disappointed in myself) so we had our final pizza.
At 5:00 we went over to one of Brian’s co-worker’s houses for some dinner. He and his family hosted us for some snacks and a game of American football (we brought the football) We had been joined by another co-worker (who used to play American football in Italy – see the book “Playing for Pizza” by John Grisham for a description of American football in Italy) who was anxious to play with Brian and the boys. They were joined by the host – who needed instructions on the game- and a variety of children. Our four were joined by 5 other girls (all under age 8) and 2 little cousins. Our host lives on a lovely piece of land in Rieti. A multi-familied building – but all the families are related. I was treated to a little tour of the gardens. They grow grapes and make their own wine [1000 liters a year] – we sampled some wine too. We saw their chickens, their rabbits, their cats and Argo the dog: clearly the ruler of the land. He enjoyed the football too – even trying to get it and take it away with him. We were informed that Argo eats everything.
E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. Raw eggs. Grapes. Stems. Leaves. Pigeons. No small children yet though – so Ed was safe.
During the game, one of the brother-in-laws came home with his family (probably from the beach since that’s where everyone else in Italy went this weekend) and he turned out to be the property manager for our apartment who we met the first week in Italy when we signed the papers. Crazy, crazy small world.
We were also treated to meeting our hosts’ parents - who live there too and work the farm/gardens in their retirement(a family affair.) Warm and beautiful people. Very kind and very interested in how we liked living in Rieti – their family has been there for generations. When I shared how much I really liked Rieti, I earned the respect of Mama, who was quite generous in her assessment of the crazy American family with all the kids. Mama and Papa were busy putting tomatoes up for (I’m sure a fantastic) batch of sauces later. Just before they left for the evening, they tried to give us bountiful box of home-grown tomatoes, but since we were leaving in less than 12 hours, we couldn’t take any with us. We were all disappointed.
We thought we were going to get pizza and eat it outside on the porch with all the mosquitos, but it turned out that we were all to go down the road to a local restaurant. The history of the restaurant is quite scandelous: it was opened by the (rumored, but probably true) illegitimate son of Mussolini who then passed on the management to his son. *He* we met when our huge party of 16 showed up for dinner. We ate outdoors under the canopy of a huge tree. There was a park within the lawn of the place, so the little kids took off to play – all more comfortable with each other after a few hours of playing with Argo and blowing bubbles together. Julia and the other 8 year old girl became fast friends. I only wish we could have gotten them together earlier in the trip. Dinner was another Italian feast. Delicious antipasti and then pasta dishes for most of us. The Italian’s did the ordering for us (so much easier this way!!!) And since Brian’s coworkers speak English fluently, we were able to have some really good conversation with our food and wine. The other wives were not as fluent, so some translating was done, (when they weren’t checking on their girls on the playground.) The term “Baxter widow” was not lost on one of the other wives: she shares some of my own displeasure at the amount of time we spend alone with our kids – especially during shut-down. Although, I must add, this summer has been fantastic. We got to have Brian during shut-down and home every night at an early hour. AND we got to see him in the morning before we drove him to work… well, except Aidan, who slept in every day.
We ended the evening (too soon for all the kids) watching part of the lunar eclipse. Aidan tried to convince us that he wanted to stay up and watch the whole thing – until 2 am. We quickly shot that down, reminding him that we had to leave the house at 6 am to make our plane.
Goodbyes, Ciaos and more cheek kissing closed a most pleasant evening and also our stay in Italia.
And now we’re on a plane. Colin and I are in business class. It’s his birthday today. He wasn’t too pleased with the day at first, but he’s been fed hamburgers and chocolate, and can watch a variety of movies on demand – so he’s better now. I agree that it’s a bummer of a way to spend a birthday (which I have experienced on an angst-filled flight back from Chicago…but that’s a whole ‘nother chapter.) On the plus side, he gets an extra 9 hours to celebrate.
There is a song on Italian radio (RTL…Cento-due-cinque) right now named, “Ciao… Arrivederci” It’s been humming through my head for a few days. Of course just the title of it has been humming through – because I don’t do the words to songs thing (because I’m too busy listening to the music. The accordian is really an under-appreciated instrument. You think I’m joking. I’m not. ) But the title alone will do as an ending. Yep. That’ll do.
Ciao.
Arrivederci.
Ready or not, here we come…..
home.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Unpacking the purse
I'm getting ready to pack. Well, sort of ready. I keep finding other things to do.
Like emptying out my purse - which does need to be done, doesn't it?
For anyone else interested (like that bridal shower game) here's what I have
accumulated over the last few weeks:
Outside pocket -
*Adult Biglietto d'ingresso (ticket) to the Rieti community pool - where we went yesterday to escape (or embrace) the heat. Swimwear update: Italians still love their speedos.
*ponytail holder - probably Julia's
*empty band-aid wrapper - most likely from Edwin.
*Claritin wrapper - for me and Colin
*pencil - stolen from the Vienna Marriott. They have pencils in the rooms. Not pens.
*list of West Ranch High School contacts and phone numbers looked up on the internet
for me to call and help arrange Colin's first day of school. Done this. Still have heard no word back from his counselor after 3 and 1/2 weeks of emails. Luckily, the other office staff is extremely friendly and helpful...
*keys to the apartment - but only the outside buliding door and one of the front door keys - which is one of the strangest looking keys I have ever had
Inside flap pocket -
*emery board from the Vienna Marriott
*5 used Paris Metro tickets
Interior zipper pockets -
*gum "Hollywood" brand sans sucres; probably bought at a French rest stop
*tic tacs: mint flavor
*Aidan's ipod - half charged, no earphones
*1 Euro coin
*part of a band aid wrapper
*lipstick - MaryKay "Suede"
*lip gloss from Target
*more Claritan wrappers
*receipt for our hotel stay at the All Seasons Republique in Paris
Main compartment -
*Keycard holder from the Vienna Marriott
*small map of Paris showing the location of our hotel: each child was given this business card
sized map and instructed to keep it on their persons in case they got seperated from us. Edwin and Julia - and maybe Colin - were the only ones who did it. Edwin thought it was cool to have something to put in his pocket (when he remembered to put his pants on the right way (and not backwards) so that he could actually reach his pockets)
*tour ticket to the Saltmine tour "Tour #33" which we were late for, and ended up on tour 35
*another receipt for the hotel stay in paris - from their computer, so it's a big piece of paper. There's no 8 1/2 by 11 paper here. That would be inches and they don't do the inch thing over here. So the paper is just a bit skinnier and longer. It's weird.
*notepad from the Vienna Marriott (yeah, we took lots of stuff from the room...) with a happy face drawn on it. Happy face was for the cute 4 1/2 year old little boy who sat next to our table the other night when Brian and I went to dinner without the kids at Tito's. Tito's has been around for 105 years. And of course, even in the small restaurant, the only child was put next to us. Uterus. is. a. kid. beacon...
*crinkled map of Rome from Avis
*kleenex
*receipt from the "Ipermercato" Leon from a grocery outing this week.
*receipt from Lungovelino Cafe (my internet place) for a cappuccino
*receipt from dinner on the drive back from Vienna to Rieti. Stopped for dinner in Italy, on the 12 hour drive home. Brian was VERY upset that we didn't jet over to Slovenia (a mere 1/2 hour away) so he could add another country to his list.
*3 kid tickets from the swimming pool yesterday: Ed was free
*my camera - which still works even though Brian dropped a dolop of whipped cream on it from one of the apfel strudels we had in Austria
*6 tickets to the Catacombs in Paris
*key card holder from the Villa Potenziani - where we stayed when we first got to Italy I have used it to hold the slip of paper with the calling card numbers and codes on it, in case I am near a payphone (not often) and want to call someone. I often want to call, but with the time difference, I don't often get the chance. I'm sure no one wants to hear from me at 2:00 am
*pocket sized city map of Vienna
*Purell hand sanitizer - not often used. Which is truly a miracle that we didn't have more illness among us for the amount of crud I'm sure we've all been handling...
*Ricola - bought at LAX on the return trip to Italy from my reunion
*my glasses - which I always seemed to forget when I needed them.
*the 6 euro pink! watch I bought in Paris - with a picture of the Eiffel tower on the face
*2 miniature salt shakers from the saltmine tour - the free gift at the end of tour
*hair clip
*another Paris metro ticket - we used all but 4 of the tickets we had purchased. We gave them to a homeless man at the entrance to the metro.
*lipstick - Marykay's "Gingerbread"
*lipgloss - that Julia hates to use because it has some mint flavor to it
*Always brand clean handiwipe
*3 tickets to the St. Stephen's bell tower in Vienna. Only Colin, Aidan and Julia went up.
*ziploc bag full of "medicine":
Benegryl
Band Aids -various sizes
Sleep Aids
Triple Antibiotic ointment
Hydrocortisone cream
Claritin
Alleve
So that's it. Not everything will go back in.
I need to find my wallet - a huge ommission to the purse.
And the passports.
And then I'll start to be ready to go.
Like emptying out my purse - which does need to be done, doesn't it?
For anyone else interested (like that bridal shower game) here's what I have
accumulated over the last few weeks:
Outside pocket -
*Adult Biglietto d'ingresso (ticket) to the Rieti community pool - where we went yesterday to escape (or embrace) the heat. Swimwear update: Italians still love their speedos.
*ponytail holder - probably Julia's
*empty band-aid wrapper - most likely from Edwin.
*Claritin wrapper - for me and Colin
*pencil - stolen from the Vienna Marriott. They have pencils in the rooms. Not pens.
*list of West Ranch High School contacts and phone numbers looked up on the internet
for me to call and help arrange Colin's first day of school. Done this. Still have heard no word back from his counselor after 3 and 1/2 weeks of emails. Luckily, the other office staff is extremely friendly and helpful...
*keys to the apartment - but only the outside buliding door and one of the front door keys - which is one of the strangest looking keys I have ever had
Inside flap pocket -
*emery board from the Vienna Marriott
*5 used Paris Metro tickets
Interior zipper pockets -
*gum "Hollywood" brand sans sucres; probably bought at a French rest stop
*tic tacs: mint flavor
*Aidan's ipod - half charged, no earphones
*1 Euro coin
*part of a band aid wrapper
*lipstick - MaryKay "Suede"
*lip gloss from Target
*more Claritan wrappers
*receipt for our hotel stay at the All Seasons Republique in Paris
Main compartment -
*Keycard holder from the Vienna Marriott
*small map of Paris showing the location of our hotel: each child was given this business card
sized map and instructed to keep it on their persons in case they got seperated from us. Edwin and Julia - and maybe Colin - were the only ones who did it. Edwin thought it was cool to have something to put in his pocket (when he remembered to put his pants on the right way (and not backwards) so that he could actually reach his pockets)
*tour ticket to the Saltmine tour "Tour #33" which we were late for, and ended up on tour 35
*another receipt for the hotel stay in paris - from their computer, so it's a big piece of paper. There's no 8 1/2 by 11 paper here. That would be inches and they don't do the inch thing over here. So the paper is just a bit skinnier and longer. It's weird.
*notepad from the Vienna Marriott (yeah, we took lots of stuff from the room...) with a happy face drawn on it. Happy face was for the cute 4 1/2 year old little boy who sat next to our table the other night when Brian and I went to dinner without the kids at Tito's. Tito's has been around for 105 years. And of course, even in the small restaurant, the only child was put next to us. Uterus. is. a. kid. beacon...
*crinkled map of Rome from Avis
*kleenex
*receipt from the "Ipermercato" Leon from a grocery outing this week.
*receipt from Lungovelino Cafe (my internet place) for a cappuccino
*receipt from dinner on the drive back from Vienna to Rieti. Stopped for dinner in Italy, on the 12 hour drive home. Brian was VERY upset that we didn't jet over to Slovenia (a mere 1/2 hour away) so he could add another country to his list.
*3 kid tickets from the swimming pool yesterday: Ed was free
*my camera - which still works even though Brian dropped a dolop of whipped cream on it from one of the apfel strudels we had in Austria
*6 tickets to the Catacombs in Paris
*key card holder from the Villa Potenziani - where we stayed when we first got to Italy I have used it to hold the slip of paper with the calling card numbers and codes on it, in case I am near a payphone (not often) and want to call someone. I often want to call, but with the time difference, I don't often get the chance. I'm sure no one wants to hear from me at 2:00 am
*pocket sized city map of Vienna
*Purell hand sanitizer - not often used. Which is truly a miracle that we didn't have more illness among us for the amount of crud I'm sure we've all been handling...
*Ricola - bought at LAX on the return trip to Italy from my reunion
*my glasses - which I always seemed to forget when I needed them.
*the 6 euro pink! watch I bought in Paris - with a picture of the Eiffel tower on the face
*2 miniature salt shakers from the saltmine tour - the free gift at the end of tour
*hair clip
*another Paris metro ticket - we used all but 4 of the tickets we had purchased. We gave them to a homeless man at the entrance to the metro.
*lipstick - Marykay's "Gingerbread"
*lipgloss - that Julia hates to use because it has some mint flavor to it
*Always brand clean handiwipe
*3 tickets to the St. Stephen's bell tower in Vienna. Only Colin, Aidan and Julia went up.
*ziploc bag full of "medicine":
Benegryl
Band Aids -various sizes
Sleep Aids
Triple Antibiotic ointment
Hydrocortisone cream
Claritin
Alleve
So that's it. Not everything will go back in.
I need to find my wallet - a huge ommission to the purse.
And the passports.
And then I'll start to be ready to go.
Sitting by the side of the road
OK - so I hope you all enjoyed the recent postings. I had to upload the text sitting on the side of a wall (in the shade, at least) behind the locked gates of the "shopping center." It's August 15th. Religious holiday. Assumption (Ascension?? some "a" thing) of Mary. (Mary? Someone holy.) So the town closes down. Again. Because Sunday, Thursday afternoons and 3 hours all the other afternoons isn't enough closure. I had purchased some wifi time for my computer at the internet cafe (so Colin and I can be on line at the same time) and thankfully their connection doesn't turn off to celebrate Mary going to heaven. So I'm (literally) sitting by the side of the road to finish the postings before I head back up to pack.
All. the. Stuff.
Which has to come home with us Sunday.
Because Brian might (probably) not be coming back here.
It will be a small miracle to get it all packed up and the apartment in decent (???) shape before we leave BEFORE the crack of dawn on Sunday morning.
Wish me luck...
All. the. Stuff.
Which has to come home with us Sunday.
Because Brian might (probably) not be coming back here.
It will be a small miracle to get it all packed up and the apartment in decent (???) shape before we leave BEFORE the crack of dawn on Sunday morning.
Wish me luck...
Attempts at cleaning
I tried to do some cleaning this morning. I didn’t want to leave the apartment a huge mess, in the (hopefully small) chance that Brian doesn’t come back to Rieti and gets the opportunity to clean the place up before we turn back the keys to the owners. So I got up early and swept three of the rooms before attempting to mop the floors. There is no mop as such, only mops for dusting, so I had to improvise. I used some old underwear that wasn’t coming home with us due to its pretty yucky (but fairly clean) state. I won’t mention who it belonged to previous to its incarnation as floor cleaner – but it wasn’t any of the girlie kind.
It worked fairly well, and we can now walk around (in those three rooms) without too much concern for blackened feet. I left the rag to soak in the washing tub, thinking that I would do more rooms when I returned from taking Brian to work and Julia “outfit” shopping this morning. We dropped Brian off at work – a nice ritual we have gotten back in the habit of. Way back at the beginning of our marriage, we shared one car, like we are doing this summer. I would take Brian to work (or the metro stop), and then pick him up at the end of the day. We did this for a little over 2 years. It’s been nice to revisit this summer. It’s not feasible to maintain when we are back in the land of big cars and long commutes.
The outfit shopping was a success; Julia was able to find “something Italian” to take back home to wear on the first day of school – AND it was on sale. The stores have great big sales to get rid of the summer stock before the new fall lines come in. Sadly, we couldn’t purchase any of the new fall stuff, as it was all pants and long sleeves – articles that won’t be worn in sunny Santa Clarita for a good three months.
We came back home and she went back to the apartment while I had my morning cup of cappuccino at the bar. Nicely caffeinated, I headed back home, expecting the early morning load of laundry to be finished and ready to switched. Instead, the front loading washing machine didn’t completely drain (as the tub was full of the cleaning rag.) It gushed water out of the door, effectively washing the bathroom floor and drenching everything else. So after the 10 or 15 minutes it took to clean all the water up (without the help of old towels, rags or paper towels like I would have used had I been at home – we had to be creative with newspapers that never got around to being thrown away) I had to re-start the washer with the semi-washed load. This is really going to throw off my timetable of getting the wash done before we leave.
I should have known better than to start cleaning the house.
It worked fairly well, and we can now walk around (in those three rooms) without too much concern for blackened feet. I left the rag to soak in the washing tub, thinking that I would do more rooms when I returned from taking Brian to work and Julia “outfit” shopping this morning. We dropped Brian off at work – a nice ritual we have gotten back in the habit of. Way back at the beginning of our marriage, we shared one car, like we are doing this summer. I would take Brian to work (or the metro stop), and then pick him up at the end of the day. We did this for a little over 2 years. It’s been nice to revisit this summer. It’s not feasible to maintain when we are back in the land of big cars and long commutes.
The outfit shopping was a success; Julia was able to find “something Italian” to take back home to wear on the first day of school – AND it was on sale. The stores have great big sales to get rid of the summer stock before the new fall lines come in. Sadly, we couldn’t purchase any of the new fall stuff, as it was all pants and long sleeves – articles that won’t be worn in sunny Santa Clarita for a good three months.
We came back home and she went back to the apartment while I had my morning cup of cappuccino at the bar. Nicely caffeinated, I headed back home, expecting the early morning load of laundry to be finished and ready to switched. Instead, the front loading washing machine didn’t completely drain (as the tub was full of the cleaning rag.) It gushed water out of the door, effectively washing the bathroom floor and drenching everything else. So after the 10 or 15 minutes it took to clean all the water up (without the help of old towels, rags or paper towels like I would have used had I been at home – we had to be creative with newspapers that never got around to being thrown away) I had to re-start the washer with the semi-washed load. This is really going to throw off my timetable of getting the wash done before we leave.
I should have known better than to start cleaning the house.
Exercise
Random thoughts on exercise
Three months ago, I was hauling my body out of bed every day at 4:30 AM to teach a boot camp class. Yep, teach the class as a fill-in for the instructor who was away for 2 weeks.
I was even working out twice a day a few times right before I left. That was before I came to Italy.
I have exercised for sole purpose of exercising exactly *ONE* time since I landed in Europe. Once. In two months. Yes, I have walked a ton. And climbed a million and one stairs. But no formal exercise. At all. And I have eaten everything I have wanted to eat since I arrived also.
So I guess it’s time to start heading back home. The clothes are fitting a bit more snugly. Back home to the diet and exercise. Again.
But I’m so glad I took a vacation from it all. It was all completely worth it.
Three months ago, I was hauling my body out of bed every day at 4:30 AM to teach a boot camp class. Yep, teach the class as a fill-in for the instructor who was away for 2 weeks.
I was even working out twice a day a few times right before I left. That was before I came to Italy.
I have exercised for sole purpose of exercising exactly *ONE* time since I landed in Europe. Once. In two months. Yes, I have walked a ton. And climbed a million and one stairs. But no formal exercise. At all. And I have eaten everything I have wanted to eat since I arrived also.
So I guess it’s time to start heading back home. The clothes are fitting a bit more snugly. Back home to the diet and exercise. Again.
But I’m so glad I took a vacation from it all. It was all completely worth it.
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