Tick Infested Shithole In A Ghetto

That's the title of a song that I wrote with Janet and Serina to describe our new villa and location.   I admit it is a bit of an exaggeration but I am spending Friday taking the dogs back to Scicli to get groomed, de-ticked, and to visit a vet.   We have pulled over sixty off of Flame.   I will spare you the photographs of splattered tick guts, blood, skin chunks rage and death.   (I think all of the visits to historic sites of carnage had an impact I wasn't prepared to articulate prior to the ticks).

The great news...

Our friends came and we had a BLAST.   The kids had a week of laughing fits and swimming.   We went to two volcanoes: Mount Etna and Stromboli which is Europe's most active volcano.   They were cool.   We also stumbled upon an Italian circus which was just like the dozens of books and biographical accounts that I have  read on the history  of the circus circa 1920's.    It began as a desperate "get away and explore" our new heinous surroundings .   I think we were in  Augusta.   I photographed some barbed wire, some garbage, a naval yard and was basically sulking when we saw signs for a circus, and then the circus itself being set up.   Recognizing a golden opportunity, Janet and I hopped the fence, dashed past the vicious frothing mastiffs, and started walking around (with complete faith in "ho no parlare Italiana" as the line that would prevent us from being arrested for trespassing).    We found the tiger cage with six giant, one tonne tigers pacing, lounging and grunting.   And then we met Luccio - the second generation tiger trainer and he spoke English!   We talked with him for an hour, pet the tigers through the cage, and agreed to bring the family to the circus in two days.   Luccio also agreed to let me photograph him and the tigers in action.

The most interesting aspect of the whole ordeal was when we took the kids to the tiger pen after the show and one of the tigers casually pointed its butt at the group, lifted its tail straight into the air, and proceeded to spray almost everyone.   I was spared the sticky skank which is probably why I thought it was overall a  fascinating experience.  I can tell you, nobody else was using that word to describe what had just landed on them.

Re-Intellectualization in Scicli

Ok so the  re-intellectualization program didn't go exactly as planned and I am basically where I was about a month ago.   That being said,  I have not been totally idle.   We had visitors...

My friend came with her twins and it was terrific.   We went on a tour of  Siracusa  which is the oldest of the Greek cities in Sicily and one of the oldest Greek city-states in general.     We visited a quarry where thousands upon thousands of slaves worked, went blind (because there was no light), and died on top of one another.   Walking around in this spot was unpleasant but Sean felt it was an attractive labour cost.   (Those are his words as he is now participating directly in the blog by dictating over my shoulder)!    We saw a Greek tragedy rehearsal taking place in one of the oldest intact Greek theaters.   And apart from the historical value of touring around one of these old death pots, the kids came home and put on their own play.

We met Sean's cousins from Victoria, British Columbia in Malta.   The highspeed ferry was only twenty minutes from our villa in Pozallo and the entire trip was only ninety minutes so we couldn't pass it up.    My friend who's family is from Malta gave us an itinerary which we pretty much followed.   We checked out her Grandfather's paintings in the churches; hopped on a boat and went to Gozo and Comino; and ate at her recommended place, "Otters."   There was a historic referendum which slowed everything down on our second day.   The country was voting on whether or not it should be illegal to get divorced.   The People of Malta united in support of divorce.

We also visited some salt pans which are human enhanced depressions in the stone where salt water is pumped in and left to evaporate leaving the remaining salt for harvesting.

We came back to Scicli and all felt like we were coming home.     A highlite for all of us was the  day we went to an aromatic herb farm where the owners were cultivating   several hundred species of aromatic herbs.   After about an hour of smelling around the farm, the only one of its kind in Sicily and quite possibly Italy, we sat down to a fantastic meal.   We were expecting appetizers.   Instead, we sipped Rose out of plastic cups, and sampled some of Sicily's signature dishes.   Anchovy crostini.    Fried sage in a tempura like batter only less sweet and lighter.    Broken pieces of bucattini in a Genoa pesto.   And I can't remember what else but it was fantastic.  Oh, a peach and rose granita and a pistachio gelato at the end.   Oh, and they heard Sean would have loved a cigar and by the end of the meal, there was a brand new box of them at the table.   We finished the meal with espresso.    The kids ran around and played with the family dogs, and the family.   The adults ate for five and a half hours.

We went to a fashion show that showcased some of Ellen's swim wear.   (She makes swim suits and beach wear).   That was fun to see because there were performances by the local dance schools and Ellen's daughter was in the show.

The farmer, Orazio, who grazes his cattle on Giovanni's property invited us to lunch on the day he was making ricotta so we dipped bread into warm ricotta and drank his home made wine.

All and all, life in southern Sicily is fanfreakingtastic and I am sad to leave.

Serina's Day

"Serina's Day" begins with my bad day with the Sciclian men.   (It is really a composite of a couple of days but this is a Liar's Revisionist History so I have taken some condensing liberties).

It began with  a ride with Memmo  but not before I asked him a question - ENTIRELY IN ITALIAN.  I was so impressed with myself.     The half dozen people in the room burst out laughing - that should have been a clue.   Anyways, it was only when I returned home and plugged my efforts into Google Translation that I realized what I had asked.  

"When do I get to ride the rabbit bareback?"

But it wasn't like I had an opportunity to get better as Memmo announced within ten minutes of our ride, (in perfect English I might add), that today, he "preferred silence."   So, here was my Italian lesson for the day - oh and it only came after I was quizzed on a few of the things I had learned from last week.   (Naturally and fortunately, I passed).

Sunset = Tromonto
Saddle = sela
greenhouse = effetto serra

Sunrise = alba

Next, I lost my game to the Italian Stallion and he played with his left hand.  I was so pissed I challenged him to a race and then taunted him when he was going slowly.   I promptly lost that one.   Fortunately, Serina was there to defend me.   She insisted that if Mr. Tennis would consent to some frisbee playing, I could break his fingers with the flick of a disc.   A massive exaggeration but my ego had been so profoundly devastated that I nodded in agreement.   So far, he is not taking me up on the offer so I am going to assume that is because he is afraid!    I remain defiant and humiliated.



Serina on the other hand, fared quite well with the men in Scicli, and to our mutual benefit.

First, the gas guy, all of a sudden required Serina to get out of the car and enter his little room to punch in the credit card code which up until this point, when I was presenting him with the card, had never been necessary.

Second, while the men that really count in my life, (Sean, Oscar and Leo) - (My dad, uncles and cousin count too but they are unfortunately not with me right now), were out getting their hair butchered by a local hair dresser,  Serina and I went to look for a car-wash.    Lavvagio!   I proudly asked several passer bys.   I was surprised by their unhelpful responses but Serina reminded me that maybe I needed to explain what it was that I wanted washed.   Anyways,  the gas guy was of no help at all because all directions were in Italian, so we pulled up to a mechanic shop and Serina popped out to see if she could get a general sense of where we might look.   Well the next thing I know we were being escorted to to the car-wash.   And, the Escort explained to the other mechanic (it was an industrial car wash) what we wanted and we got the beast cleaned for six Euros.  

Finally, tonight Sebastiano brought his grown up son Andrea to dinner tonight.   Andrea promptly announced that he had a kid and a partner but wasn't married and if Serina was going stir crazy,  he asked me "would it be ok if I took her out to Modica?"  Much to her horror,  I said yes and snickered my way through dinner!

The best part of today was Sean on horseback.   It won't be long now before the two of us get to trot off into the sunset together.    I can't wait!

Oh, and this is how Sean and I entertain ourselves while the kids are sleeping!   At the Colombo Bar.   I have taught Salvatore how to make a Saratini.  

(Admittedly this is a grossly (accurate) portrayal of our indulgent life sabbatical BUT there is hope.   My next post will be about our collective "re-intellectualization program."   Stay tuned.  

Siracusa

Today it was gloomy and we decided it would be a great day to take the entire family, including the dogs, to the original city of Sicily.    This was ok with me as horseback riding was cancelled.

Siracusa is a UNESCO heritage site, founded by the Greeks over 2500 years ago.    We went to the archaeological ruins and in particular the The Roman amphitheatre, of Roman Imperial age. It was partly carved out from the rock.   In the centre of the area is a rectangular space which was used for the scenic machinery.     The boys were enthralled by the fact that humans had fought to the death in this ring of stone and spent their time searching for the bones "of dead people."    I told them that dead people became flowers.   Unfortunately I was not expecting them to ask me exactly how they became flowers and so what could have been an educational opportunity to teach photosynthesis, became instead another lie that Mommy told.   Oh well.


We got home latish and I made pasta pomodoro with ricotta that the farmer whose cows will soon be coming to graze the pasture at our home, made.     I tell, you - unbelievable.   One of the  things that I have learned in Sicily is that while I thought I understood the meaning of "fresh" in fact I did not.   In Scicli, the produce varies daily.   While there might be strawberries on Monday, that cost 4Euros a basket, by the following Monday they cost 4Euros for a crate.   The artichokes have gone from a spring electric green to a deep purple color.  The milk is unpasteurized and replenished at the milk stand daily.    The "fresh" ricotta was warm when I got it.   Speaking of which, next week we are going to go to the farmer's farm to meet the cows.   I am so psyched.   I love cows.   We also had a tomato, basil, buffalata mozarella salad; a fennel and tomato salad; and lots of bread soaked in oil.


Finally, I found myself singing "Bette Davis Eyes" by Kim Karnes repeatedly today.   I think it is a sign that I need to go to Rome and buy a new outfit.


No pics today - forgot my tripod, the three lenses, the filters, and the camera.    I also forgot the tennis lessons that I had organized for the kids and Serina.  It must be that time of the month.


I am exhausted again -- and off to bed I go.    More tomorrow.

Pasqua

Easter was good fun.   As Oscar put it, "This is the best day ever.   Lemonade, fireworks and meat.   I love how the Italians celebrate Easter."   We hung out in a piazza and watched as Jesus was paraded around the streets, followed by a marching band and hordes of people.    Fireworks blasted from the top of the mountain and literally reverberated throughout our bodies.   (For some reason my pictures of the actual celebration won't upload.   It is very odd but I am assuming there may have been some Divine Intervention.    It is a sacred holiday afterall.

  We returned to our car only to find that I had managed to get it towed.    After all of my careful manouevering to get me right onto the curb in between two light posts.   I thought I deserved a medal.    I did assume  the buses wouldn't be running on this day because it was such an enormous celebration.    In the end it was a pain in the butt but a solvable problem.   Ellen's husband's cousin is the Chief of Police and Ellen worked her magic on the car pound guy and the car pound was opened for us so that we could get the truck back right away.    What I hadn't counted on was my near celebrity status in Scicli.   It seems, not surprisingly, that this event was witnessed by more than one person.   But only one family in Scicli drives a beast such as ours.

That was humiliation number 1.

Humiliation number 2 was when Serina and I decided to delay our gym experience and watch a soccer game instead.   The players kicked the ball over the fence.   We thought we would retrieve it for them.   It did not even remotely occur to me that I wouldn't be able to kick the ball back over the fence.   Anyone who knows me can likely imagine how enraged I was at my repeated inability to kick the ball back over the fence.    The soccer team stopped laughing after the second try.   Fortunately Serina got it over on her first try.   Then she said, "I bet you are glad I'm the one teaching the kids how to drop kick."  Ha ha ha hilarious.

Later that day it got really windy and we thought it would be a perfect time for a beach adventure so off we went.   It was very moody and ominous.   In fact, that night the roof of our outdoor eating area, blew away.    It is exhausting just remembering the crazy storm that blew over our house for the last couple of days.   I have to go to bed immediately.   More blog later.

 

Buona Pasqua

                                        

Horseback Riding and Italian Lessons

OK - this is Mecca.   I went on an hour long ride with Guglielmo aka "Memmo" while the kids had their lesson.   It was terrific.   I rode a white Arabian dressage horse.   She was anti-walking and insisted on prancing the entire way which was fun (although my butt already hurts).    Memmo doesn't speak English, and I don't speak Italian which made for a fantastic Italian lesson for me.   Instead of learning relevant phrases that might help me out in Italy, I learned the names of all of the wildflowers, trees and animals that we passed along the way.

Here is a Sample of the Sara Dictionary of Italian

Fig               fico
Poppy          papavero
Aster           astro
Grapes        uva
Artichoke    carciofo
Geese          oche
Donkey       asino
Carob          carruba
Walnut        noce
Horse          cavallo
Rain           pioggia

And Now, Pasqua, aka Easter (in a non-chronological order)

Tomorrow is Easter.     The town of Scicli has been on holiday since Thursday.    It has been impossible for me to park the beast legally anywhere and as a result, I think I have become a real Siclian (apart from the fact that I drive a beast that is literally the size of 3-4 Siclian cars).   I parked perpendicular to the sidewalk last night.   But I was at an "enoteca" so it was ok.   And I bought a case of wine from the wine guy we met at the crazy swank Modica party (see earlier post).   Sean will be happy as he really liked this wine.

I miss Sean.   He returns tomorrow  from a four day trip back to Toronto.   He changed his flight so that he would be able to join us at Ellen's aunt's place to watch the Easter festivities from her balcony.   The town is already lit up with giant arches and decorations.  But tomorrow, apparently the Madonna comes out of one church, and Baby J out of another, and they circle the city looking for each other until they meet in a crescendo of joy and chaos.   I am told there will be no room to park anywhere as the people from Scicli and beyond, swarm the streets and participate in this epic reunification.  Easter is the most important holiday on the island.   It is bigger than Christmas.    Serina, Ellen and I took the kids' to three churches on Friday evening at 7.00 (it was a party in Scicli to celebrate "The Last Supper").   The churches were filled with flowers and, as it turns out, people.   We got past the door in only one of them.   But in that one, St. Bartolomeo, we did manage to see a fourteen hundred year old nativity which was pretty cool.

Naturally, tomorrow, we will eat.   I am told the feast begins at 2.30 and will likely take us into the wee hours of the morning.   My poor little bambinis.   Although they are thrilled about the party prospects now, (plus the fact that I will bring their DSI's), they are going to be zonked.   As I am right now.

Bueno notte.

The Semi-Centurion In Rome

This post is dedicated to Sean's birthday weekend in Rome plus a little more.    Thanks to everyone who sent him birthday wishes!

It began with a question on the way to the airport - one worth repeating.

"Do you ever get a fake vibration in your bum?   It happens to me all the time now."    Helllloooo fifty!

But this does require a little explanation...As a masochistic gift to himself, Sean now uses a smart phone that vibrates whenever he gets an email or text (and apparently sometimes just for fun too).

A Tender Moment.

We went out to dinner on Saturday night to the Sotto Sotto of Roma.   By that I mean it was dark, shishi and every Hollywood superstar had a photo on the wall with the owner.   Unlike Sotto Sotto however, the owner was  present for more than just the photo-op.   He took us to the dining room and checked in on us periodically.   We felt very well looked after.    The room itself is worth mentioning because it was actually green - an outdoor patio that was entirely covered and heated.    The walls were "living" and dripping with greenery.   The food was good and at midnight we ordered champagne and toasted the new era.

Sunday, Sean's real birthday, we spent shopping around the Spanish steps.   He bought almost six new outfits including a straw hat and some snappy new shoes.   Objectively speaking, he looked smashing!   On the other hand, I looked like a ragamuffin who just got off of a train from somewhere far away.    Nothing in Rome appealed to me except for a lovely sweater that I found for a cool 13,800 Euros!   Yeah.  Who knew.  Needless to say, I remained "comfortable" if somewhat unstylish!

We had massages and then went to dinner at Giovanni's.   (The owner of the home that we rented in Sicily, whom we met just once, barely knew, but really liked).    It was a blast.

Giovanni's apartment was across from Vatican City in a pedestrian only street.   I'd say the ceilings were twenty feet, with dark exposed wooden beams, and twenty five years worth of art, books, and sculpture. The art was right up my alley.   There were abstract expressionist oil paitings of rural Sicily in the spring and the summer.   A quintet of contemporary serigraphs of primary colours and geometric shapes; an etching of a dog/human looking beast; water color portraits, oily city scapes.   It was just beautiful.

A decade ago, he had purchased an apartment on the same floor as his own but in the next building over.   Giovanni's best friend is a talented architect from Modica (he designed the house we are renting in Scicli), and they blasted through the stone walls and connected the two separate apartments WITH a sliding wall of course - just in case the wrong person showed up at the door!

The meal was the best I have had in Italy yet.   We sat down in the small dining room with Flora, Giulia, (his two daughters 17 and 24 respectively) and his wife LaLa (real name Octavia).   Giovanni was once a trained chef and  sommelier.

1st Course - the best tomatoes that I have ever had in my life, with the best buffalata di mozzarella that I have ever had in my life.   it makes the stuff that I purchase from my local Italian deli, the day that it arrives from Italy, taste like rubber balls.

2nd.  Raw fava beans in their husks with a honking piece of pecorino cheese.    You peel the beans out of their pods, and eat them with a small piece of the cheese.  YUMMY!

3rd.  A small portion of a stew of fava beans, cipolla, peas, and I think a contrencato di pomodoro.

4th.  A plate of lightly sauteed artichoke hearts.   Heaven.   Giovanni told me that if you don't add small quantities of water at a time (a couple of tablespoons) and wait until it is absorbed, the artichokes will lose their flavor.

5th. Zuchinni flower risotto.   It was creamy in colour and texture with delicate yellow strips of zuchinni.

6th. Eggplant parmesean although nothing like the kind that I make.   I make an eggplant parmesean that is "light" because it has not very much cheese - just four tablespoons of parmesean.   But G's was primarily thinly sliced eggplant, and tomatoes.   Uber light but flavourful.

Finally, we had a not very sweet, very light limone cake with a fluffy, creamy limone mousse like something on top.   I hate cake but had a few bites and it too was delicious.   Overall - a fantastic night!