School starts on Wednesday and I am both dreading it and looking forward to it. I still have not finished my homework and I have given up on one of the assignments (a book for history that is hard even for the Italians!). I do have the schedule for the first day: Latin, Math and double French. Now I just have to find out which building my classroom is in! well.... that is the news for me. I'll post about the first day of school if I survive it!
Ciao,
Florence
Monday, September 9, 2013
Friday, August 30, 2013
School News
I just wanted to let you guys know what was going on with my life seeing as I haven't written in a while...
Well, school is coming up and for those who don't already know, I'm going to be going to the language school. At first I was magically enrolled in the school to do German classes, but I had already decided that I wanted to do Spanish instead of German so I had to write a note to the principal asking permission to change. We're not sure who actually enrolled me into the language school in the first place, but whoever it was didn't spell my name right so I'm thinking that it was an Italian who was trying to be nice and did it for me. The good news now is that I am now doing the language I wanted instead of the other and I will also be in the same class as a couple of my friends.
So, now I'm a bit happier about the Spanish thing, but I'm still becoming more nervous about starting a new school each day more and more. It's going to be a lot harder this year and I'm sad because I don't have the same Italian teacher as I had last year who helped me so much in my other school. He didn't start me doing the same level stuff as my other classmates and so it helped me learn a lot more because the Italian was more or less to my level of doing until the exams came. Then I had to do them just like the others.
I'm planning to start this school year well, though. My last semester of my last school year, I improved so much compared to the first semester and I'm am going to try to start off better than I ended. I hope you all (the ones still in school) are not struggling too much.
Love,
Ashley
Well, school is coming up and for those who don't already know, I'm going to be going to the language school. At first I was magically enrolled in the school to do German classes, but I had already decided that I wanted to do Spanish instead of German so I had to write a note to the principal asking permission to change. We're not sure who actually enrolled me into the language school in the first place, but whoever it was didn't spell my name right so I'm thinking that it was an Italian who was trying to be nice and did it for me. The good news now is that I am now doing the language I wanted instead of the other and I will also be in the same class as a couple of my friends.
So, now I'm a bit happier about the Spanish thing, but I'm still becoming more nervous about starting a new school each day more and more. It's going to be a lot harder this year and I'm sad because I don't have the same Italian teacher as I had last year who helped me so much in my other school. He didn't start me doing the same level stuff as my other classmates and so it helped me learn a lot more because the Italian was more or less to my level of doing until the exams came. Then I had to do them just like the others.
I'm planning to start this school year well, though. My last semester of my last school year, I improved so much compared to the first semester and I'm am going to try to start off better than I ended. I hope you all (the ones still in school) are not struggling too much.
Love,
Ashley
Plain Silly
 |
| This is my frog |
 |
| Front frog foot |
 |
| Back frog foot |
 |
| Aren't the warts and spine great? |
 |
| Little red eyes |
Ciao,
Florence
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Wayward Travellers
Ashley and I returned from the United States on Thursday, August 15. Our baggage didn't.
I couldn't be too surprised, even though no airline has ever misplaced my bag before, because our return flight involved two changes of plane. That included going from a tiny regional jet at Terminal D to a giant Airbus at Terminal 1 in JFK in a 60-minute layover. A layover that turned out to require exiting the airport buildings, walking around a construction site to the next terminal (no sidewalk), getting our Delta boarding passes converted to Alitalia ones, and going back through security. As Ashley said, "We are back in Italy already!"
So, at Fiumicino, we waited for every last bag to come off the belt, then headed for the Alitalia services desk. The woman there was very nice and knew what she was doing. I produced baggage receipts, my passport, and a boarding pass. I identified the type and color of our bags on the IATA baggage chart. And I filled out a much-photocopied customs form. I left with a claim and a notice that because we live outside the immediate area, the courier would have 48 hours to deliver our bags once he had them.
Friday morning Alexandra left for Germany to fetch Florence, and I got a text that our bags were on a flight from JFK to Fiumicino. Progress!
Friday evening, right on time, I got another text stating that "Items: 1" had been given to the courier. Surely that was not 1 of 4 bags? They must mean one consignment. At this point we started actively waiting for our bags, and making sure someone was always at home. Would the courier make it in less than 24 hours? Do they count Saturdays and Sundays? Why was there no tracking information?
Then came two more texts on Saturday, each stating that "Items: 1" had been given to the courier. Uh-oh. Our bags must not be together. Where is the fourth? But surely that first bag must be delivered soon. Maybe it would be the one with ALL of Ashley's summer clothes.
Sunday came and went. " Daddy, Mummy would kill me for wearing this to church!" "No she wouldn't, she knows you don't have anything nicer than jeans."
Monday I called the number on the baggage claim form. The woman who took my call was initially very surprised I didn't already have my bags: they went to the courier Friday, after all. Then she said, " Wait a minute. There are a lot of notes here. Oh, I see. There are four bags, and here is where one went to the courier, and here is another, and here is another. Well, if you don't have them tomorrow call us back."
Monday evening Alexandra and Florence returned from Germany. And I got one more text saying that an item had been given to the courier.
Tuesday, breakfast. Alexandra's phone rings. It is the courier saying he will make a deliver between 2 and 4. Hallelujah! Why Alexandra's phone? I'm not quite sure why they chose that one over the one they had been communicating with me on, but I had given it as our home number so they would have two possible people to reach.
And sure enough, just before 2:00 the courier arrived, friendly as could be, with ALL FOUR BAGS, and insisted on helping us carry the bags up to our apartment never mind that there were 5 of us milling around with excitement. One set of signed documents later we could really feel like the journey was over.
Except for the unpacking.
Michael
I couldn't be too surprised, even though no airline has ever misplaced my bag before, because our return flight involved two changes of plane. That included going from a tiny regional jet at Terminal D to a giant Airbus at Terminal 1 in JFK in a 60-minute layover. A layover that turned out to require exiting the airport buildings, walking around a construction site to the next terminal (no sidewalk), getting our Delta boarding passes converted to Alitalia ones, and going back through security. As Ashley said, "We are back in Italy already!"
So, at Fiumicino, we waited for every last bag to come off the belt, then headed for the Alitalia services desk. The woman there was very nice and knew what she was doing. I produced baggage receipts, my passport, and a boarding pass. I identified the type and color of our bags on the IATA baggage chart. And I filled out a much-photocopied customs form. I left with a claim and a notice that because we live outside the immediate area, the courier would have 48 hours to deliver our bags once he had them.
Friday morning Alexandra left for Germany to fetch Florence, and I got a text that our bags were on a flight from JFK to Fiumicino. Progress!
Friday evening, right on time, I got another text stating that "Items: 1" had been given to the courier. Surely that was not 1 of 4 bags? They must mean one consignment. At this point we started actively waiting for our bags, and making sure someone was always at home. Would the courier make it in less than 24 hours? Do they count Saturdays and Sundays? Why was there no tracking information?
Then came two more texts on Saturday, each stating that "Items: 1" had been given to the courier. Uh-oh. Our bags must not be together. Where is the fourth? But surely that first bag must be delivered soon. Maybe it would be the one with ALL of Ashley's summer clothes.
Sunday came and went. " Daddy, Mummy would kill me for wearing this to church!" "No she wouldn't, she knows you don't have anything nicer than jeans."
Monday I called the number on the baggage claim form. The woman who took my call was initially very surprised I didn't already have my bags: they went to the courier Friday, after all. Then she said, " Wait a minute. There are a lot of notes here. Oh, I see. There are four bags, and here is where one went to the courier, and here is another, and here is another. Well, if you don't have them tomorrow call us back."
Monday evening Alexandra and Florence returned from Germany. And I got one more text saying that an item had been given to the courier.
Tuesday, breakfast. Alexandra's phone rings. It is the courier saying he will make a deliver between 2 and 4. Hallelujah! Why Alexandra's phone? I'm not quite sure why they chose that one over the one they had been communicating with me on, but I had given it as our home number so they would have two possible people to reach.
And sure enough, just before 2:00 the courier arrived, friendly as could be, with ALL FOUR BAGS, and insisted on helping us carry the bags up to our apartment never mind that there were 5 of us milling around with excitement. One set of signed documents later we could really feel like the journey was over.
Except for the unpacking.
Michael
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Home again, home again, jiggity jog!
After being in Germany for three weeks it is nice to be back. I had a great time in Germany, but there is no place like home! After a long jaunt with no homework, it is time to settle down and get to work... I am almost enjoying it! I arrived here in Todi just two days after Eleanor left for... umm...ummmmmm... somewhere. For two weeks! So I don't even have her to complain to. Oh dear! However we do have candy! Lots of it. While in Germany I made it my business to buy every flavour of candy that I could find. The results include: Curlywhirlys (milk chocolate covered caramel), chili powder, raspberry jam, saftbarhen (gummy bears but better), Wunderbars, Nimm2s (like laffy taffy filled with gooey yummy and flavoured lemon, apple, black current and cherry) and liquorice (Dutch!) and chocolate. There is a lot more but I don't feel like listing it right now (in other words we have enough candy to send us into a sugar coma).
Ciao!
Florence
Ciao!
Florence
Monday, August 12, 2013
The Feast of San Lorenzo
If I'd got my act together, we could have gone to Perugia, and there probably would have been some cool processions. I failed this time around...but: August 10 is the feast of San Lorenzo.
San Lorenzo, for those who are into Catholic art and history, was the fellow who was supposedly roasted on a gridiron, and is often so depicted. However -- of all the ironies -- check out the wikipedia link which traces that part of his story to a typo, of all things!
One thing that the English version of the wikipedia site doesn't cover is that his feast is known to be commemorated with shooting stars. Go figure...turns out that his feast night generally coincides with the Perseids (which should peak tonight).
So, I'm off to look at shooting stars from the giardinetti. We saw some gorgeous ones a few nights ago, and hope that tonight's even better!
Love,
Alexandra
update: we had a wonderful time licking our gelati and looking up at the falling stars. Some shot, and the spectacular ones positively ambled.
San Lorenzo, for those who are into Catholic art and history, was the fellow who was supposedly roasted on a gridiron, and is often so depicted. However -- of all the ironies -- check out the wikipedia link which traces that part of his story to a typo, of all things!
One thing that the English version of the wikipedia site doesn't cover is that his feast is known to be commemorated with shooting stars. Go figure...turns out that his feast night generally coincides with the Perseids (which should peak tonight).
So, I'm off to look at shooting stars from the giardinetti. We saw some gorgeous ones a few nights ago, and hope that tonight's even better!
Love,
Alexandra
update: we had a wonderful time licking our gelati and looking up at the falling stars. Some shot, and the spectacular ones positively ambled.
Sunday, August 11, 2013
The second half of summer
...and when everyone in the States starts up school that's when I know it's time to start my summer homework-- I mean, I only have one more month! Where did the summer go? Apart from the US, the Alps, Florence, Perugia...
Anyway, about a week ago we ordered my textbooks for the next year but I had been trying to ignore the signs that summer was coming to an end-- friends staying at home to study, people talking in hushed voices about the year to come (5th year of high school is supposed to be hell), kids bringing summer reading on the train with them, and everyone-- everyone-- posting the sort of status on Facebook that pretends to be complaining but actually exists just to tell everyone like me that I should be studying too.
So I finally got up the courage to pick up some of my summer reading books (a five-minute trip, start to finish) and opened them. I have to say that although I dislike the idea of studying, once I get started I really do enjoy it. That goes for all of my subjects, but especially literature-- summer reading is great because I get to be lazy under the pretext of doing something useful. "Oh drat... today I have to stay in bed reading this romance... life is pretty hard sometimes..." For English I read The Picture of Dorian Gray in one day and really enjoyed it-- despite the dark theme-- especially for the psychological depth.
So far my favorite part of my homework has been an Italian literature book, Le città invisibili or Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino. It's a collection of prose poems arranged into chapters, each of which is framed by a dialogue between Marco Polo and Kublai Khan. The poems are narrated by Polo and describe the wonders of various cities (all fantastical), from Valdrada (which was built by a lake that reflects the occupants' every movement, for better or for worse) to Eutropia (a series of identical cities, only one of which is ever occupied at a time-- as the occupants weary of their lives they move Mad Hatter-esque to the next city and start fresh with new houses, new families, new friends) to Pirra (which could never have been anything but that which it is) to Perinzia (which was constructed to mirror the heavens and the divine order, but which must have had some mistake, for no one is born quite right there). They discuss death, illusions, memories, relationships, eternities, wishes...
The real beauty of the book unfortunately can't be captured in translations (Italian is such a beautiful language that it's bound to lose something anyway), but it is the sense of awe that the poetry transmits as Marco Polo describes all these wonders... for two days I was a traveler hand-in-hand with Kublai Khan, sitting there, just listening. It was really my first true experience with Italian literature, and I have to say it was extremely enjoyable-- I can't wait to start Il fu Mattia Pascal!
Anyway, about a week ago we ordered my textbooks for the next year but I had been trying to ignore the signs that summer was coming to an end-- friends staying at home to study, people talking in hushed voices about the year to come (5th year of high school is supposed to be hell), kids bringing summer reading on the train with them, and everyone-- everyone-- posting the sort of status on Facebook that pretends to be complaining but actually exists just to tell everyone like me that I should be studying too.
So I finally got up the courage to pick up some of my summer reading books (a five-minute trip, start to finish) and opened them. I have to say that although I dislike the idea of studying, once I get started I really do enjoy it. That goes for all of my subjects, but especially literature-- summer reading is great because I get to be lazy under the pretext of doing something useful. "Oh drat... today I have to stay in bed reading this romance... life is pretty hard sometimes..." For English I read The Picture of Dorian Gray in one day and really enjoyed it-- despite the dark theme-- especially for the psychological depth.
So far my favorite part of my homework has been an Italian literature book, Le città invisibili or Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino. It's a collection of prose poems arranged into chapters, each of which is framed by a dialogue between Marco Polo and Kublai Khan. The poems are narrated by Polo and describe the wonders of various cities (all fantastical), from Valdrada (which was built by a lake that reflects the occupants' every movement, for better or for worse) to Eutropia (a series of identical cities, only one of which is ever occupied at a time-- as the occupants weary of their lives they move Mad Hatter-esque to the next city and start fresh with new houses, new families, new friends) to Pirra (which could never have been anything but that which it is) to Perinzia (which was constructed to mirror the heavens and the divine order, but which must have had some mistake, for no one is born quite right there). They discuss death, illusions, memories, relationships, eternities, wishes...
The real beauty of the book unfortunately can't be captured in translations (Italian is such a beautiful language that it's bound to lose something anyway), but it is the sense of awe that the poetry transmits as Marco Polo describes all these wonders... for two days I was a traveler hand-in-hand with Kublai Khan, sitting there, just listening. It was really my first true experience with Italian literature, and I have to say it was extremely enjoyable-- I can't wait to start Il fu Mattia Pascal!
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