C’era una volta, once upon a time . . . in the Tuscan hills just north of Florence, Italy, lived some very poor farmers. Their homes were usually one room, built high in the mountains, where both family and animals dwelled together. Life was difficult, but they were thankful for what they had. (more…)

Monday morning Italy wakes up.

Saturday is considered a work day, but usually only until lunch. Then shutters are drawn, metal doors rolled down, and phones are silenced—all in anticipation of Sunday, when everything seems to be closed. Trying to find a loaf of bread on Sunday is like a squirrel searching for an acorn in December. (more…)