What I mean by that is: when somebody sends you a message that seems innocent enough at a glance, but beyond the surface niceties, there’s an underlying smarty-pants attitude that can’t be denied. The reason I even bring this topic up is because I got one of those SP messages the other day. It was from our dear friend Scott who happens to be one of the best cooks I know. Yet, that doesn’t give him the right to parade his gifts in front of those of us less fortunate! (more…)
Wednesday July 6th was the Feast Day in Fiesole where everyone celebrated Saint Romulus—the patron saint of that beautiful Italian hill town. Here’s how that day went down from my perspective: (more…)
It was some sort of modern day eco party that was pretty spectacular. Evidently thousands were invited unbeknownst to us. There was more than enough room for everyone to either sit down or flit around—their choice. Drinks were plentiful and unlimited while there also seemed to be an endless supply of goodies to eat. No fights broke out as the day of drinking wore on. (more…)
We had a plan. But things in Italy often times don’t go according to plan.
The idea was fairly straightforward: Grab a panino, sandwich then catch the 5:30 movie. Then after the movie, we planned to get a primo, first course dish, such as pasta just before making the rounds to all of Florence’s great museums since it was “Art Tuesday,” from 7-11 pm. The three of us were excited and couldn’t wait to see how the evening would unfold! (more…)
My Italian lawnmower and I have a long and rich history together. But, I have to admit that I was ready to part ways when it’s tattered grass-catcher-bag snagged the top of the sprinkler head, shearing it off and subsequently chopping it into hundreds of tiny unrecognizable pieces scattered across the lawn. I was really angry with my favorite little IBEA push-mower and was forced to take a “time-out” to cool down a little. (more…)
No, I’m not talking about keeping a dusty book full of various century-old Italian stamps. Instead, it’s about the very contemporary art of “stamping” in Italy. Now that’s worthwhile and is of utmost concern . . . and it’s a lot more fun! This is an interactive blog entry. Help us decide what could possibly be behind the thunderously noisy and exacting art of stamping. Who are these maniacal officials and can we find a way to stamp out stampers? (more…)
As you know from an earlier post, I’ve had my share of problems with Italian flyswatters. If you didn’t already read it, you might want to check out the April story called “Fly Me to the Moon—Please,” as a suggested prerequisite to this follow-up story. Since many of you felt my pain in trying to use the wimpy traditional Italian swatters, I thought it was only fair to share some good news as well. Our luck in the domain of flies took a turn for the better on Tuesday morning when we went to Molin del Piano. Let me explain. (more…)
That’s become a rather common phrase for us in Italy. Whether we’re talking about the telephone connection, the electrical service, the water or the heat, our lament always seems to apply. Something is always breaking down, turning off, or just wavering enough to be annoying. (more…)
A nature lover at heart, I wouldn’t hurt a flea—but a fly . . . yes!
I have never heard anyone voluntarily, or under duress espouse the virtues of the common fly. I understand that they are part of creation just like me, but that doesn’t give them the right to pester, pollute and perpetrate everyday acts of annoyance on innocent people. Actually, my disdain for the fly goes way back. (more…)
Don’t get me wrong. I like cats as much as the next guy. But I have to say that this stray hanging around the house is causing me to seriously reconsider my position. I’ve temporarily named him Cat-astrophy, and here’s why. (more…)
Cheryl & Emerson
Quality time is undeniably great for relationships. We've discovered that quantity of time can provide that quality. Perhaps it takes Time to Partner.