No fruit, no flowers, no leaves, no birds, NOVEMBER.

Sotto un post in Italiano per i Gravangot!!


The leaves are off the trees now and it really officially looks like november. I just checked out Tasha Tudor's "Around the Year" out of the library and it is always a favorite book. Tasha Tudor, incidentally had just about the most awesome house (pictured above) ever that her son built for her in New England and she was known for not only her beautiful illustrations but also her wonderful gardens---(the woman made compost tea out of rotting stuffs and water). Anyway the page for Novemeber shows a family cheerfully making Christmas preasants because they presumably aren't going to be doing that in Advent. Every year I make it a goal to get things out of the way before the start of December so that Advent can be an internal and quiet month, with varying degrees of sucsess.

I am glad that all the election craziness is over and that quiet interior months of winter are ahead. Angelcia daily prays for snow and Julia has begun to walk just the past few days. Her new favorite thing is this rabbit skin bag that Ben found in his things. I think that she thinks it is a live animal because she gets very exited and carries it around cooing in the same manner she does when she sees the cat. It makes me laugh so hard.

Ciao a tutti in Gravagna. Le bimbe stanno benne. La Giulia ha comminciata caminare questa settimana e adesso e molta contenta stare come la sua sorelle. Oggi ha caminata con una cestina in mano. La sua favorita gioco adesso e una picola pelle di un coniglio che ho trovato nella roba di Ben. Forse lei pensa e un animale avivo perche sempre fa una festa cuando lo vede. La Angelica me ha chiesta oggi "Come il tempo oggi in Gravagna, e freddo o caldo?" Forse adesso un po piu freddo da qua pero qui ha stata tana piogga, pero ci sonno tanti funghi---ma i porcini, no. :( Ciao a tutti!

Via Francegina

Finally I am able to post loads of pictures with fast fast internet. Here are some pics of Ben who went hiking with my one of my favorite of my Dads relatives, Carlo, on a peice of the pilgrim trail that runs from Cantebury, England down to Rome and passes right thru Gravagna. These pictures were taken in the late spring. Ben loved the hike and all the forgotten little shrines, bridges, etc.

Ecco la Giulia.


Well happy election day to all! I wish i could vote for Julia.

An update per Gravagna

Questo per la Sara e la Fede. . .

Siamo arrivati in gli Estati Uniti. Le bimbe sonno state bravissime sulla volle e tutto bene. Noi sentiamo la mancaza tantissima per tutti in Gravagna. Baci per Teresa, Carla, Maria Pia, Lina, Fede, Sara, Sivia, Cesarina, Mafalda, e certamente, Giuseppe. Ogni tanto adesso provero fare il post in Italiano, ma sta pantienza con la gramattica

Ottobre

Well if anyone still follows this blog the posts should be getting more frequent once we fly back and go back to the land of fast internet and fast food (barf). Oh by the way that's early next week.

The fall has been so beautiful here and I am getting more and more teary eyed the closer we get to leaving. This place is the most incredible little time capsule of all things Catholic. The people here are so kinds and if I had the winter I'd be speaking in dialect and wearing rubbers and a scarf in my hair by the end of it (oh wait, I already do that. . . )

We have begun to light the stufa and Ben has now learned to roast chestnuts on top of the wood stove instead of in the oven. They call them "le mundine" and Ben eats them in the evenings, like a true Gravagnot.

I am enjoying every last day here to the fullest.



Oh and I will be updating my favorite blogs list soon. I MUST add Flighty girl and Clare Corner, because they are both mad sweet craftin' mamas.

The city of Pontremoli is perhaps the most perfect of all cities ( ah yes post has nothing to do with gratuitous pictures for pleasing grandmothers. . . . ) as I was saying, I know that I am of course biased, but the city of Potremoli is truly the most perfect city I have ever encountered, being laid out on a line which Belloc reminds us in the Path to Rome is the function of a civilized town, all rotund designs being barbarian. Additionally it has both country and city in perfect harmony with one another and is happily situated on the narrow strip of land between two rivers. For its population of 6,000 it is amazingly cultured offering one of the most pretigious literary awards, in Italy. There are theatres, ballets, markets, cultural festivals, etc. and so on. In its heyday it boasted a seminary, a monastary, a convent, a fortress, and an episcopal seat, and off the top of my head I can count at least six catholic churches. Incredible. But all this is nothing compared, to my favorite aspect of Pontremoli-- that no matter how many times I visit it, there is always another suprise.

Last market I popped into the duomo to visit the little side chapel where the Tabernacle is. On my way in, to the right, where there used to be a fairly normal Italian altar was instead said altar, with the marble front removed and behind glass, a dressed corpse in full regalia, lying on his side ala Liz Taylor with his head rested on his palm. I asked the little turtley man who is always tidying the church what it was and it turns out Potremoli has its own Roman martyr which was brought from the catacombs in the 800s. Apparently they air the little fellow out every ninth of September and then close him up again the following day. Thank you dear pontremoli for reminding me that things are not always what they seem and that we really need to resurrect the burying of saintly folk in altars. What a cool Catholic tradition.

Feasting in August

I don't know why this page takes so long to load but it does. Sorry about the sporadic postings these days. I usually just about have time to check the NPR page and that's about it. But all is well here in Gravagna. August is vacation month for the Italians and there were tons of people here for Feraugosto this year. We went to the big dinner that everyone has up on the mountain and feasted to our hearts content. The following day there was a picnic lunch way up on the mountain where they pasture the animals and I think the Italian picnicing is about the most involved procedure I have ever seen.
First they load up their cars with all their food and it ain't no panino and beer. My wonderful Bertolini cousins invited us to eat with them and they pulled out lasagnas, roast lamb, torta, rice bomba, bread, salame, cheese, figs, baskets upon basket of wine, huge water coolers, tables chairs, cushions, tableclothes. You name it, they had it there. Italians apparently take picnicing very seriously. We started eating at about noon and it all wrapped up about six with plenty of napping in between. It should take six hours to eat dinner every once in a while and two or three days to prepare it. These are things worth doing.

Meanwhile the Wingates have been visiting. Henry and Ben have been busy with landscape painting and everyone in the village is curious about what they do all day in the big dark studio room. Ben and I had our seventh wedding anniversary and we celebrated with panna cotta ( a delicious dessert similar to creme brulee but without egg) over at Marietta. Delicious.

Lastly above is a photo of the cena this year and a token photo of Julia, well loved by all, most especially Giuseppe. Here he is telling me about his wife's artifical heart.