Beginner's Luck Revisited

1. I've added pictures to some of the Italy postings! Scroll down for the illustrated version. Still a work in progress for the Rome and Switzerland ones.

2. I was inspired by the fresh bread with jam and honey we had for breakfast in Europe, and I decided I would start making my own bread. Being unemployed has given me great aspirations. After searching for a recipe (ANY recipe that wasn't made for the bread machine!) I found an oat bread that sounded good. Wednesday I went to the grocery store. Thursday I went to buy loaf pans. This morning I started the bread. Except that I don't have a thermometer and I think the milk I added was too hot and killed my yeast. Yes, after the labor intensive process of mixing, kneading (I was sweating), shaping, rising, baking, I ended up with 2 solid brick loaves of bread that weigh about 7 pounds each. It has been 5 hours and I only have bricks to show for my work.

Ciao Roma!

It was in Rome that I really developed an appreciation (and I daresay, a fondness) for Rick Steves. Yes, Mom, I know you're proud. If you don't know, Rick Steves writes travel books designed to help Americans travel like locals, and ever since our family trip in France, Mom quotes him at every opportunity. This is always met with eye-rolling by my sisters and me. Well, now I understand.

He gave us good tips on avoiding lines, dressing appropriately for the Vatican, the history of different sights so we didn't have to pay the extra Euros for a guide, etc. At his suggestion, we started at Palatine and the Collosseum. We met up with Flo's coworker, Leo, who is Brazilian--so there we were: a Brazilian, Belgian, and American holding hands and singing Kum-Ba-Yah together in Italy. Love it. --It was a unique experience to walk in a place that was SO ANCIENT. We imagined all the people for thousands of years who had walked here, touched these ruins, and imagined if they could have envisioned all that passed since then.

(gladiator vs lion)

We were on a roll, on foot, with a map. Unstoppable. At the Trevi fountain we tossed coins and wishes over our shoulders, we admired the Pantheon from the outside because it was closed, we walked along the Tibis River to Trastevere where we sat on the steps of the church eating watermelon wedges, and then we sat down in an alley cafe for lunch. It was the cheapest place we could find which advertised plates of pasta for 5 Euros on the blackboard. The menus they brought to the table, however, advertised 8-10 Euros each. We asked about the 5 Euro options, and they sneered as they directed us over to the blackboard to decide. We felt savvy. When we ordered our drinks, the waiter suggested an appetizer.. caprese salad with tomatoes and fresh buffalo mozarella with basil. We agreed and ate everything heartily. When the bill came, we realized that our caprese salad appetizer cost 12 EUROS. With a $1.67 : 1 Euro exchange rate, that was about $20 for MAYBE 1.5-2 tomatoes and a hunk of mozarella cheese. We did not feel savvy.

The next goal was to find Della Palma, the gelateria that Leo's friend recommended. We asked the first local we saw who scowled as he shook his head and said he didn't know. We then decided we should probably ask someone who was not also selling gelato. Finally we found it, and it was like walking into Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory! There must have been hundreds of gelato flavors winding around the shop like Gaudi's winding park bench in Barcelona. I chose chocolate and coffee and let my spirit float to heaven while I ate them. Piazza Navona was my favorite place in Rome with the fountains and artists. Unfortunately the Four Rivers fountain was under renovation, but our spirits were lifted when a band set up and began to play wonderfully enticing music. Soon a large crowd had formed around them and we rocked out with them as they played their combination jazz, funk, soul, rock on all brass instruments--trumpets, flutes, tubas, saxophones, and drums. There was one woman in the group who played a drum. During a song she stepped forward with a megaphone and began singing Fever. Oooohhhh I had chills--I bought their CD on the spot. Samenakoa -- I also tried to convince them to come to Chicago.

The next day, Saturday, we joined every other tourist in Rome in the line for the Vatican. It turns out that August 15 is a holiday all over Europe celebrating the Virgin's Ascension, and so the Vatican had been closed on Thursday and Friday 8/14-15. 2 hours of telling stories to pass the time, but remaining alert so we didn't get passed by ALL the Asian tourists--I don't mean to stereotype, but the line-forming culture seems to be very different there. There is no respect for you-were-here-first, it's every man for himself and if you snooze, you lose.

The Sistine Chapel was impressive, but an absolute ZOO. There were so many bodies packed into the small space that really all one could do was swivel at the neck. Many of Raphael and Michelangelo's works have been restored in the last several years, so the colors are brilliant. We didn't see the Pope, but we did see John Paul II's tomb in the crypt. St. Peter's Basilica was breath-taking, but also packed. Though from a distance, Michelangelo's Pieta was beautiful. Apparently Mary's foot was wearing away from so many people kissing it, but the whole sculpture is now behind glass.

We needed to spend the afternoon surrounded by some green, so we sought out a park with trees, and came upon a most impressive statue!

After dinner, we went to the Spanish Steps to see what the evening culture there is like. Rick said it hopped. And it did. The steps looked like a stadium--full of people and vendors walked around trying to sell flowers and cans of beer. Nice combo.

Early the next morning, Flo and I had to part ways. Her vacation time was up and she left to head back to Brussels. I packed up to be on my way to Switzerland. Rome-Milan-Brig-Bern was my itinerary. I had only 10 minutes to change trains in Milan, so I darted off the train and bee-lined to the departure screen. To my dismay, the screen posted the departure time and end destination. My ticket had the departure time, train number, and MY end destination. Platform 8 was going to Zurich at 16:25. I was supposed to go to Brig at 16:25. I looked around. There was no one to ask. I started asking other travellers who waved me away saying they didn't know. With only 4 minutes to go, I decided I'd better get on this train. Just before boarding I asked the guy in front of me, who hesitated. He didn't think this was the right train, but wasn't sure. I spotted a woman in uniform and ran to the end of the platform to ask. No no, she said, you are on Platform 3. I sprinted to platform 3, lugging my suitcase behind, and knocking over anyone who got in my way, jumped on the train, and was safe. The spoken language changed from Italian to French.

Pretty much the same story in Brig--only this time the train was much fuller and with no overhead rack to stow luggage, I had to leave my suitcase in the aisle. Everyone obligingly stepped around it, until the snack cart came through. And now they were speaking German! I grunted as I pulled my suitcase onto my lap which was already occupied by my backpack, and again had flashbacks of that infamous train ride through France which ended with me falling over my bag in the aisle while all the French averted their gaze awkwardly. Luckily I escaped this train without further incident, and before I knew it I was in Etel and Adrian's car on the way to their apartment.

I slept soundly.

Love/Hate Illustrated

The next day started out with good omens--FINALLY! Someone lent Flo a charger, and we met 3 sweet French girls at breakfast who had a car and also planned on visiting Pompeii. Pompeii was interesting--not eery like I had imagined, but perhaps this had to do with the bright blue sky that was looking down. The view of Mt. Vesuvius was great, and the ruins gave so much insight into the way of life, the mixture of Greek and Roman history, and the thought process of the people. It was so hot, that after lunch we decided to go straight to the sea to swim.

Amalfi/Ravello were the last towns we wanted to hit before leaving the Amalfi coast. We left at 9:30 the next day to take the bus to the train to get to Sorrento where we wanted to take a boat to Amalfi at 11:15. Classic Caitlyn/Flo style, we had to run, and when we finally got to the ticket window, they said we couldn't go to Amalfi--I have no idea why, it said right in my time table Sorrento-Amalfi, but we ended up buying the ticket to Positano and then figuring we'd take the bus from Positano to Amalfi. A boat even came that was headed for Amalfi, but they wouldn't let us on. In any case, the boat was wonderful, the air was fresh, the sea was blue...

In Positano we walked up the hill, Flo wanted to stop and eat, but I wanted to pick up something in the grocery store and eat at the bus stop so we wouldn't waste more time.. I had my heart set on Ravello--the city of gardens where poets go to die. At the top of the hill (once more) we ate our sandwiches and waited for the 1:30 bus to Amalfi. When it came it was standing room only around those tight corners dangling off the cliffs. Surprisingly, someone called to us, and it was the 3 French girls and the Italian couple from our B&B who had taken this bus directly from Sorrento and had been riding for 3 hours! They didn't look happy. We were glad to have taken the boat in between.

Another hour later we arrived in Amalfi. The French girls planned to spend the day on the Amalfi beach, and the Italian couple (who spoke not a word of English) were headed on to Ravello. I asked if I could go with them, Flo waffled. Finally she decided she wanted to see Ravello, too. So we headed to another bus station. Another hour passed waiting and enroute before we finally arrived in Ravello. Ravello was beautiful! Fewer people, a beautiful church in the central plaza with mosaics, 360 degree panorama views of the mountains, vegetation, the sea, etc, and up many steps in the little town we came to the Villa di Cimbrone where poetry met nature met art. It was divine. sculptures, views, terraces, trees, flowers, inscriptions, fountains, it was a combination Italian and English style garden. THIS is what I had been waiting for! Communication between us and the Italians was limited, because they really didn't speak ONE WORD of English, but we smiled a lot, and they were patient--making an effort to understand my cryptic Italian and speaking slowly and clearly with me, waiting while I translated for Flo.


It was time to go, because we were hoping to catch a 6:30 boat back to Sorrento, however when we arrived, we decided it was too expensive so we took the bus. 2 more hours of sharp turns, cliffs, stopping abruptly, and FAST driving (even the Italians were commenting), and of course we were in the very last row--which my mother warned me about, but they were the only available seats!--and squeezed 4 people into 3 open seats. Poor Flo had had enough. I watched helplessly as she turned green and then suddenly asked for a plastic bag from our backpack. She was throwing up for the last 45 minutes of our trip. Even after getting off the bus, we still had to take the train back to Vico and then thankfully the Italians had a car to drive us all up to the B&B. Poor poor Flo. I thought she would never speak to me again.

Halfway up the hill in the car with the Italians, we had to stop to let a patron saint procession go by. I swear it was half of the town processing down the street with candles, bearing the statue of the saint on a platform, singing. Cool to see, but honestly, don't they have side streets for that kind of thing? Back at the B&B, Flo went straight to bed, so I had dinner with the Italians. Such effort to converse! But I couldn't get over how nice they were. They walked me back to my room after to check on Flo, and then came back with pills for nausea.

THe next day we packed up, gave Vincenzo our offerings of American BBQ sauce and Belgian chocolate to thank him for taking good care of us, and headed to the beach with the Italians with the Italians for the morning before boarding our trains to Rome. This particular beach was refreshing, but crowded and dirty. It was good to be in the water, despite the brown film coating our bodies when we left. Getting off the train in Naples, the doors closed on Flo's backpack and we had to yank her out before the train started moving again. She says she's unlucky. I'm beginning to believe her.

On the Napoli-Roma train, the woman we sat next to struck up conversation and then told me my Italian was very good. I couldn't help but laugh, but I was excited for her to say so! We made it to Rome and our convent (yes, we stayed with the sisters) without difficulty (FOR ONCE!), showered and headed out to explore Rome by night. We came upon the Collosseum all lit up with the full moon hovering above and felt our troubles melting away...

The Coming and the Going

After our looooong travel day to the Amalfi Coast, Flo and I decided that we would take it easy on public transportation the next day. Vincenzo told us there was a spot just down the road from our place where it would take us about 1 hour to hike down the hill to reach the little town of Positano. We set off after breakfast and came upon Vincenzo in his car, he told us to get in and drove us to the trail head, then proceeded to walk down partway with us talking the whole way about this and that, pointing to the Bay of Naples, the Bay of Salerno, the towns, the church, etc. He snapped some photos of Flo and I and then sent us off.

It was a nice hike, switchbacks the whole way down the hill, and the air was clean and fresh. By 10:00 it was HOT and we were glad to have water and sunscreen. Suddenly we came upon a couple sitting in the shade who said, "where do you come from?" In a very good mood I threw up my hands and cried, "America!" at which point my feet started sliding down the hill unbeknownst to the rest of my body, and I very ungracefully halted inches from his feet. He lunged forward to catch me, and when all was well, he said, "I meant where do you come from right now?" Embarrassing, or patriotic, you decide.

It took us 1.5 hours to hike all the way to the town. Positano is a pedestrian town because all the roads, alleys, and streets that go through it are steps. The colorful houses are stacked on top of one another all up the hillside, just like your typical Italian coastal village on the Mediterranean. We reached the beach in another half hour, and swallowed the $$ we had to pay to access it. I immediately stripped my socks and shoes so I could experience the beach with all my senses, and regretted it as soon as I stepped onto the black sand which had been absorbing the sun's heat all morning. In the middle of a long row of chairs, halfway between the two boardwalks, I was committed--I started running, but every step was hotter than the last! When I finally made it onto the boardwalk, there were tears in my eyes and my feet were blistered, but that made the sea feel even better.

We swam, slept, and relaxed all day long (taking care to put our feet only on the shaded sand), and at 4:30 decided to pack up and begin the trek home. We stopped by the tobacco shop to buy our bus tickets to Vico Equense and marched up to the top of the hill to the bus stop. Once at the top, there were no signs about what buses passed by, times, nothing. I asked someone who looked like a local which side of the street we should wait on for Vico Equense. In a torrent of Italian he said we were on the right side and we should look for the bus to META. Every single bus that came was going either to Sorrento or Amalfi, no Meta, no Vico. I asked EVERY SINGLE driver if they went to Vico. All said no. One said that bus would come in 20 minutes. After 2 hours of waiting, Flo and I were hot, tired, and thoroughly disgusted. I hailed a cab and asked him how much to Santa Maria del Castello. He said 90 Euros. We said no thanks and crossed that option off our list.

Back down the hill we stopped in tourist info again to explain our situation. She said the bus to Meta had long since left, and we had some options.. we could either take the hour long bus to Sorrento and then take the train to Vico, or we could take the local bus to a certain point and then hike the rest of the way up the hill, but it was getting dark and there would be no lights. We had thought about walking back up, but weren't sure we would find the trail again. Close to tears we asked the girl to please call Vincenzo and tell him we'd be late to dinner AGAIN. When she got off the phone she said that if we RAN back up the hill, we could catch the next bus to Sorrento. If we missed it, there wouldn't be one for another hour.

So we ran for about 3 minutes uphill, and then had to stop because of the hoardes of tourists in the narrow streets and the fact that we were wheezing. We made it on the bus to Sorrento, made it on the train to Vico, and then before getting on the 9:40 pm bus to Santa Maria del Castello, we had to go in search of a prepaid calling card so we could telephone them to pick us up. When we finally got to the tobacco shop (we had to ask directions twice), I asked for a prepaid calling card for the public phone, and he just shook his head and said "molto dificile" (very difficult). Apparently nobody sells them. I don't know what use the phones are in that case, but who am I? Just an American tourist. In desperation we went into the bar next door, hurriedly and cryptically told the bartender our sad tale, and then I begged him to let me borrow his cell phone. We told Vincenzo that we wouldn't be able to call at the top of the hill, but would be getting the next bus and arrive in about 45 minutes. We dashed out of the bar and back down the street to the train station, and as we did, our bus passed by going up the hill.

Incredulous, we walked into the train station and asked when the next bus to S. Maria del Castello would leave and the man shook his head, confirmed that one had just left, and said the next and LAST one for the night left in an hour at 10:40 pm. We sat on the pavement outside the empty train station fighting back tears, when Flo suggested we take a cab up the hill. Renewed, we bounded up again and walked backwards up the main road to the center of town to catch one on the way. We got to town and I stood on the corner waiting. And waiting. And waiting. Finally a turned to a guy standing on the sidewalk and asked if it was ok to catch a taxi like this or if I had to go to a taxi stand. He looked sorry for us when he said that Vico doesn't have taxis.

Thoroughly defeated and frustrated beyond words, we needed gelatto. STAT. In the gelatto shop we again explained our sad tale to the 17 year old girl behind the counter and pleaded with her for her cell phone. We ended up waiting there while Vincenzo came to rescue us AGAIN. We exchanged email addresses with the girl and rode back home with Vincenzo speaking his Italian louder than ever.

Not fully having command of a language when someone is giving you directions means you might miss a few key details--like the fact that you can't get to Vico Equense by bus. Only train. So we waited in Positano for 2 hours for a bus that didn't exist. Probably this information was also in the torrent of Italian that the local at the bus stop told me, but again, details. Over dinner, at 11:00 that night with the staff that had stuck around to feed us, Vincenzo wrote directions down for all of the cities that we could possibly want to see during the rest of the trip.

We made SURE not to let anything happen to that precious piece of paper.

Randoms

These pictures have been sitting in my camera, waiting to be shared with the world. Elinore discovered the long forgotten dress-up clothes closet and got creative with them.


Then there's the jumbo blueberry, that dwarfed all others and reigned supreme...until Caitlyn ate it.











Last...I FINALLY started stiching the baby blanket I started 3 years ago! I can't give you a time when it will be done but at least I started sewing it! YAY!!!!!

Italian Holiday

The Italian part of my European trek is officially over, but what a time we had! You'll notice that I didn't insert an adjective into that sentence--what kind of a time we had. It was intentional. Truly, we had a great time, but I also developed a love/hate relationship with Italy over the last week. The people are amazingly beautiful, kind and generous, but the systems and the structure BITE. There's a reason Italians are always late...

Antonietta and Tino's wedding was INCREDIBLE out in a small village in the country about an hour outside of Campobasso in South-central Italy. Antonietta lives on a farm even further out from the small town and this region of Italy is soaked in tradition. The day started at 9:30 am with the close friends and family of the bride and groom meeting at their respective houses for pastries and mingling. Anto was not mingling during this time, but getting ready upstairs. At 10:30 Antonietta appeared at the doorway on her father's arm, where her two best friends stretched a ribbon across the doorway. Before proceeding, Anto cut the ribbon signifying her departure from her family's home to her new life with Tino. At that point we all followed her in our cars down into the center of the village. We parked about 1/2 mile away from the church and we followed Anto and her father through the center of town down the middle of the street all the way to the church. We were like a parade and people were hanging out of the doors and windows of the buildings to watch us pass. When we got to the church Tino was already inside, but all of Tino's family and friends were standing outside the church waiting. Anto and her father went in first and the rest of us followed her in down the aisle.

The ceremony was like normal, and then we mingled outside the church for a while before heading over to the reception site. We arrived at 2:30 (after getting lost on country roads along the way--thank GOD we were being driven around by some of Anto's Italian friends, or we would probably still be wandering around lost in the country) to appetizers and cocktails set up under the trees of a beautiful garden. Florence and I filled our plates and were munching away, when an Italian warned us about going too fast. Apparently we didn't know what we were in for with the amount of food that was to come. After the cocktails, we moved inside to be seated for the dinner.

3 pasta dishes, 8 seafood dishes, lemon sorbetto, 4 meat dishes, salad, fruit, and wine over 9 HOURS! In between courses there was dancing, walking, visiting. It was incredible. We thought it would never end. And these were full-sized dishes! One of the pasta dishes was a square of lasagna, a fish dish was an ENTIRE fish, a meat dish was a piece of veal with peas. The music was all traditional folk music from the region--LOTS of polka, and the occasional YMCA. When we thought we could not take anymore, we all shepherded outside for the cake-cutting. Anto and Tino popped an ENORMOUS bottle of champagne, cut the cake, toasted, and then behind them the fireworks began! Fireworks! Like the 4th of July! They lasted for about 15 minutes, we went back inside to eat the cake, and then came back outside to wander in the garden with appetizer-sized desserts again--eclaires, panne cotta, pastries, etc, etc. By the time we made it back to the Bed and Breakfast at 12:30 am we were exhausted and our feet were killing us. An entire day of high heels, ouchy ouchy.

THe next day Flo and I left for the Amalfi coast. Anto's brother picked us up at 11:30 to drive us back the hour to the train station where we had to wait for 2 hours because it was Sunday and the trains came infrequently. Finally we got to the station where we had to change and wait another 2 hours-- we were starving and NOTHING was open except a tobacco shop where we each bought 1/2 of an awful ham and cheese sandwich and a bag of chips. We arrived in Naples around 8 pm and changed to another train. At 9:30 pm we arrived in Vico Equense where we had to take another bus to our B&B. We finally arrived at the top of the hill at 10:30 where we were supposed to then call the B&B to come pick us up from there. Flo's phone had died that morning because she brought the wrong charger, and luck of lucks--mine wasn't working. We looked around the empty plaza, in the dark, hungry, tired, frustrated, and wondered what we were going to do. There were 2 older women sitting on a porch looking at us curiously, so I summoned up the courage to go and ask if there was a public phone nearby. They indicated across the plaza. We dragged our suitcases across the cobblestone steps to the phone and started trying to decipher the Italian instructions.

Suddenly, as if from heaven, a woman appeared with a pre-paid phone card and told us (in Italian) that this phone didn't take coins, so we should use her card. We molto-grazie'd her profusely and then proceeded to do something incorrectly. Thankfully she was still waiting just in case, and came back to help. We got through this time to the B&B and a delightful gentleman who didn't speak a word of English answered the phone. I did my best to explain the situation in Italian, and then he said a whole lot of things back--something about 5 or 10 kilometers. All I could say was "aspettiamo qui?" (we wait here?) and then he would say a whole lot of things again with 5 to 10 km.. and I would say "ok, so, aspettiamo qui?" Finally I looked at the angel woman who was still standing by and just handed her the phone. She said "ok.. ok.. ok.. ciao signore," then looked at us and indicated that we follow her. She marched us up the narrow street to a bar, set us up with a couple of espressos and said that our signore would be coming to get us.

Finally a lovely gentleman with rosy cheeks walked in, paid for our espressos, and drove us to the B&B--Vincenzo was his name, and he was the owner of La Ginestra, the agriturismo. He was so good to us and patient, and we were somehow able to communicate with him speaking slowly, clearly, and very loudly in Italian, and me doing my best to say what little I could, mix in some Spanish, and invent the rest (I acted a few things out too). He fed us dinner, sat with us while we ate, (Flo has a great photo of him and I deep in conversation with our respective Italian-English dictionaries), walked us to our room, gave us hugs and kisses, and called us his adopted daughters.

I have more stories to tell and pictures to share, but this post is already long, and I am writing from my friend Etel's apartment in Switzerland. If I get a chance to post more while I'm here, I will, otherwise after I get back, I'll finish and include pictures too!

Love to everyone!

Delicious

Here's a photo of Tobin and I doing one of our favorite things - picking blueberries. It seems like every picture of me these days has us attached to each other. I'm so glad that he likes riding in the carrier, but I wish he weighed less! He's getting so heavy! At least he took a good nap and let me pick 7 lbs or so. Elinore loves to go and pick with me, although she doesn't contribute all that much. She usually eats all of her blueberries before we get to the barn. I'm just glad she likes them! Well, we'll be eating Blueberry Buckle this weekend!!

Catch Your Breath 5K

I completed a 5K this morning for the first time ever!!! What a rush!! Those of you who know me know that for the majority of my life I've been a 'don't-run-unless-you're-being-chased' kind of girl. I really haven't invested much time in exercise or athletics, period. However, around the New Year I decided that 2008 was going to be the year I changed that. When my roommate suggested that we sign up for a 5K together in July, it seemed like a daunting, yet exciting challenge. When we signed up in March, July 20th seemed SO FAR AWAY!

We began "training." My first attempt to run left me panting and wheezing at .3 miles. OH NO, thought I, I CAN"T DO THIS. However, step by step and bit by bit over the last 4 months I've been gradually adjusting my speed and increasing my stamina. This is not to say that I run fast--(women pushing strollers were passing me, and just before the finish line I was passed by the woman who won the 10K), but this morning all 3 of us completed our runs in less time than any of us anticipated!

I had NO idea that my body was actually capable of running 3.2 miles without stopping. We all feel great about our accomplishment and are talking about signing up for the 5K coming up in October. As soon as we crossed the finish line, Colleen suggested we run the 10K next year! I'm thinking about that one.. not committing yet.

You may all now safely refer to me as a runner.

Outer Banks, North Carolina

We had a beautiful Perry/Denham/Bodine/Wolthuis family reunion on the Outer Banks of North Carolina last week. The 22 of us were divided up into two beach houses about .1 mile from our beach access. Every morning we woke up, had breakfast, went to the beach, had lunch, relaxed/read/explored, had dinner, went to the beach, and then to bed.

There were lots of highlights--most importantly spending time together catching up with aunts, uncles, and cousins, some of whom we hadn't seen since the last reunion 12 years ago! We went out in search of wild horses, kayaked through brackish marshes of the sound, visited the Wright Brothers museum, saw some great sunsets, watched 360 degrees of fireworks from our back decks on July 4th, counted stars from our private hot tub. The #1 highlight actually took place in a gas station on the way back to the airport. Dad went in to pay and walking back, paying absolutely no attention to what he was doing, actually tried to get into someone else's car. The terrified woman in the driver's seat was holding the door closed, and it was only then that Dad looked up and realized that the terrified woman didn't look a bit like Mom, and in fact, the car didn't look familiar either. Luckily the errant car was also a rental and not a pickup with a shotgun rack in the back window, or we might have a different story to tell. If there was ever a doubt about where my propensity for foibles came from, it is very clear now.

The family-wide shots are on Aunt Candy's camera, so someone else will have to post them. Hopefully, it will not be another 12 years before we do this again!

Unemployed

Someone once said that music is created as much by the notes as it is by the rests. I am officially done with my job as of last Saturday, and day 2 of unemployment feels pretty good. I'm living a pause right now. Similar to a fast--a time to retune and readjust my lifestyle and make sure I am making time for the things that are really important to me. As my friend Lynn said, this is the time to discover what it is that makes life rich and juicy and fulfilling and satisfying to ME. And it might not be the same thing as for everyone else.

My day:

woke up
read in bed
went for a jog on the lakefront
ate breakfast
walked to the farmers market
ate lunch of farmers market purchases
pruned my plants
siesta
prepared picnic contribution
open air movie in Kingsbury park downtown with picnic dinner

I am resetting my dials, alright. So in case you are dying to ask, no, I don't have a plan yet. I'm just pausing and enjoying life.

Life Decision

Well I wanted to let you all know that I have taken the first steps toward a big life decision I made today. I've applied to take a few classes at COD so that I can attempt to enroll at Rush University for nursing. The program is an accelerated program that would take 7 quarters...a little over 1.5 yrs, including clinical work and would allow me to graduate with a master's in nursing. I've been mulling this idea over for a while and with the encouragement and advice of Mom, I've decided that I want to move forward with it.

Just wanted to let you all know, woohoo for big life decisions!!

I started Elinore in her musical education this weekend while she was in Chicago. We worked on improvisation:

And concert repertoire:

Grace

Last night I had my 3rd official tango lesson. I signed up for an 8-week course through a dance studio in Chicago, and I have been LOVING it! Amazingly enough there have been equal numbers of men and women each week, and the instructor is hilarious. All in all, a great experience. Tango makes me feel tall, strong, graceful, seductive, DIVINE.

Then I get on the train. Still on my dancing high and chattering away on my phone. I boarded the train and went for my favorite sideways facing seats (they face the interior of the train instead of front or back). As I lined myself up with the seat and bent over (while still standing) to put my bag on the floor between my feet, the train lurched forward and I was launched into the air. I effectively squashed the girl next to me and caused all the other passengers to avert their gaze awkwardly. The squashed girl didn't even look up from texting on her cell, but I'm SURE that the conversation switched to the idiotic girl she now had to sit next to. It was a great ride all the way home facing all the people who just saw me and my tango shoes eat it. I had flashbacks to my infamous train ride through France to meet Jennifer, though this time I didn't have the cover of being the Stupide Americaine.. just stupide.

BUT I read something yesterday that said: If you can't laugh at yourself, you're not doing enough stupid things.

Cheers.

Graduation!

I did it!!! I graduated! AND I didn't fall off the stage :-)

I got to wear Psi Chi and Beta Beta Beta cords with my black Harry Potter gown. Thanks everyone for coming and supporting me, I was really happy to have you all there.

Congratulations, Laura!!

I'll let someone else post about it, but here are a couple photos.

Elinore in real time

pictures don't capture personality.. so ...

PS I sprained my ankle

Hit the Dirt

I've been working on my bio take-home all day and there was a dinner for graduating seniors in the biology major at Cascarelli's, so I invited Halley to go with me and she asked if I wanted to go with her to the barn afterwards and ride her horse Raleigh. I said why yes, yes of course I'd love to. So we gathered up our riding clothes, went to relli's and got a free pizza. So we headed out to the barn and changed into our riding attire, Halley tacked up Raleigh and we headed into the arena. After about 20 minutes or so Halley decided he was getting tired so I should get on. It was great, he was really controlled and easy to ride, the gait changes were awesome and his canter was really nice. So I changed directions and picked up a canter going the other direction...only he picked up the wrong lead (wrong foot in front for the direction we were going) and he got confused, flustered, I don't know. Just to fill you in Raleigh is an ex-racehorse. So he takes off full gallop and I thought at first we were just going to go through the fence to the other side of the arena, but then he changed direction so we were headed for the viewing gallery that has no windows. My last thought before bailing off was "I'm going to be the first one to go through the viewing gallery." But I didn't, I landed, flat on my back against the wall (I didn't hit it) and Raleigh took off to the other side of the arena. I got a lot of dirt in my pants and a scrape on my back, but I came up laughing and I would've gotten back on, but Halley decided she would make him work a little longer. I would like to thank Don from Aerial for forcing me to learn how to fall, it has come in handy :-)

I really wanted to end my college career with a bang. Though I may still have a chance to fall into the viewing gallery on Tuesday for my last riding lesson.

GRADUMATATING!!!!

Well, I'm done with classes, FOREVER...or at least until I decide if I'm doing more school.

I will miss cum laude by .1, bummer. But I'll definitely make the Dean's list with somewhere between a 3.6-3.7 for the semester. I was also fortunate to have my only sit-down final cancelled for graduating seniors if we did well enough on our papers. So once I finish my Bio take-home I'm done!!!

Dumpster Diving for Clipart

The title pretty much says it all.

Monday I came in to work and there was a pile of broken down boxes inside the back door. Before he left I asked our cleaning guy to take them out to the trash. A few hours later I got a call from one of our Parent Volunteers asking if we'd gotten the art projects she'd dropped off through the mail slot in the back door over the weekend.

I hadn't seen anything. Neither had Deborah, neither had Yecid or Angelica. I had the sinking feeling that they'd been tossed. Unfortunately this is also Parents' Week where everything has to be PERFECT so we have our best foot forward. Luckly we didn't need the projects she'd done until Tuesday. The day went on.

Tuesday morning comes and all the teachers are frantically looking for the clipart locomotives, wagons, and cabooses that are supposed to be cut out on red, yellow, and blue cardstock. DARN. I had forgotten. I quickly started pulling out similar colors of cardstock so we could make photocopies ourselves. Then I realized photocopying and cutting out 100 of each was going to take more time than we had and wouldn't be done for the start of class.

I took a deep breath, rolled up my sleeves, hiked up my britches, and headed out to the dumpster. Sure enough, after some pilfering, I found them.

I've hit a new low. Or maybe a new high. Is this what motherhood is like?