Body Paint

A few months ago, I felt compelled (who knows why) to test my ability to get out of the little alley that was my nemesis when I first bought my car.

I don't want to talk about it.

However, I needed to have an *ahem* touchup on my paint before going to the rally on Sunday (can't wait!). So, off I went to Montenero to see my buddy at the body shop. While I was there, a LARGE truck backed into the driveway...a delivery, I thought.

Then it opened. It looked like a big version of the porchetta (sandwich) vans that pull up at the fairs and markets, so I figured at that point that he was bringing them lunch.

Wrong again. Turns out that Webvan is no innovation -- Italy's had it for years. This guy had a grocery store on wheels, and the repairman simply went to purchase those items that he needed.

Love,

Alexandra

p.s. Okay, the story of the alley is really too funny not to share, so I'll swallow my pride. I didn't go as far as the stairs this time, but got stuck in the right-angled left turn. I had Florence ring the doorbell that I thought belonged to my savior of the previous occasion. As before, a head was thrust out of the window above me (this time of an elderly lady), and the conversation went something like this:
"Is Giuseppe there by any chance?"
"Nope. He's at work."
"Drat it, I'm stuck again. I can't believe I did this!"
"Hang on, I'll call him. He works in the Piazza."

Four minutes later my car had been extricated by the way-too-nice-and-patient Giuseppe, who had come home from work to rescue me and I was promising him NEVER to do it again.

Oh, and this was my view on the way back (10 minute drive):

Yes, that's Todi in the distance

Magiorenne!!!

As some of you may or may not know, I recently (sort of) had a birthday-- I'm now a legal adult here in Italy and I've been proving it by signing all my absence slips (there have been quite a few), buying a ton of beer (and cigarettes), pawning my parents' stuff (SURPRISE, dearest givers-of-life!), and... well ok maybe not, but 18 is still a huge deal here and I was told by my parents, my friends, and random people on the street that I needed to celebrate.

I've been to quite a few 18esimi here, but while the food is always of utmost importance, it has always been Italian-- after all, why eat anything else??  But I (and by "I" I mean "my revered family", as I was not at all present during the planning or preparation of the party, instead studying for a particularly nasty test) didn't feel like conforming to those standards.  So my dad brought all kinds of exotic and mysterious ingredients (like brown sugar and Goldfish and chili powder) from the US, and I (again, "they") concocted a very American meal-- or rather, a meal of very American food, as in any self-respecting establishment they would never have been served together:  Southern biscuits and sausage, chili and cornbread, burritos, chicken-pot-pie, chips and dip (this took a lot of explaining and many wary looks before the guests actually decided it was edible, if not officially "food"), and as a slight concession, chicken tetrazzini.  Although some dishes were more popular than others-- and some guests more picky than others-- desert went down universally quite well.  Chocolate-chip-cookies (known here simply as "cookies" with a cute accent), brownies, and assortment of "fun-size" candies that Daddy managed to pick up on his trip in October... a week afterwards people were still telling me that Americans absolutely know how to make dessert.

I had 40-50 of my closest friends (ha!), from classmates, to Scouts buddies, to church friends, to some others that I know from around... a number even managed to make it over from Perugia!  Although it was a greatly varied group, my mother managed to sum up the guest list pretty neatly, as she put it to me when we got home at 2.30 in the morning: "There was so much love in that room for you... it really touches a mother's heart to see that she's not the only one who knows her daughter's awesome."  And really, that's what it was all about: forget the great number of years I've been walking this earth, forget the celebration of world-renowned American food (although it was pretty good)... but I can never, ever forget my friends and family and how special they made me feel that night.

Yes, my mother made my dress since I couldn't find the one I wanted.  And the cake.

BFFs!

Such a serious class

...not!

The Perugia crowd

Cecilia <3

It took forever to convince people that cheese dip is actually a food (well, sort of...)

It's better to have loved and lost...

We have such sad news to record here...I never updated on Alby's hair loss, but after swapping out his litter, he improved dramatically. Hence, we figured that he was allergic to the bedding. His skin was dry and flaky, we thought as a result of the allergic reaction.  However, the young woman from the rescue group wanted a bunny dermatologist to check it out. Somehow, during the vet visit our little bunny died.

In the short time we had him, we became smitten. He was such a funny little thing, with a wonderful personality. No one can imagine how much and how often he made us laugh, even (especially?) when he was demonstrating his displeasure with us.

Alby, you were a very funny bunny and we love you.

Alexandra

Field Trip to Buy a Sheep!

After setting up my presepe last weekend, I came to the conclusion that I wanted, nay needed, a sheep. Or more than one. Which meant, of course, a trip to Deruta -- where I had purchased the original set of figures.

I asked Roberta if she'd like to go with me to Deruta, and added blithely that I needed to stop to get a sheep while we were there. She blinked a bit, and agreed cautiously, later admitting that she was perfectly prepared to believe that I was going to put a live sheep in the back of my car, and she'd be riding back from Deruta with an animal baa-ing in her ear! The worst part? My children happily backed her up, saying that it wasn't unreasonable, given the variousness of my *ahem* activities. Really? A REAL sheep?

No matter. Off we set, and had a lovely time scouting out the shops in Deruta and visiting my buddies. As usual, there were some really lovely things.

After a few false turnings, we found my presepe shop. The man who was there last time wasn't there at the time, but his mother happily opened the door to me...standing her tallest (she had lovely posture), she came to my armpits. I explained my predicament, namely, no sheep.

Unfortunately, she only had cast sheep, but then she found the most adorable little hand-built lamb that actually looks fluffy! And this is in terra cotta! I fell in love, and demanded more. She dug around for a little while, then called her son -- who confirmed that there were none available now -- I'll have to wait until January or February for them to be back in production.

I sadly acquiesced, deciding that I'd have to have a pair of the cast sheep (and of course the lambkin!) to make my presepe satisfactory for this year. Then I consoled myself with the dromedary, which I was also missing, and a cheesemaker. Did you know that a presepe is incomplete without a cheesemaker? I didn't, but now I do. Thank goodness they were there to set me straight.

As the mamma started wrapping, in walked the son. He announced that he remembered me perfectly because of my darling car, and was quite happy to talk about presepi until ... well, whenever. But we had a convivial time until the (very) careful wrapping was completed.

Home again, home again, jiggety jog.

Love,

Alexandra

p.s. They gave me the sheep as a gift

Presepe ... NON vivente

I'm so excited! I have my progressive Nativity scene set up. I bought it last year as a Christmas gift from my parents (thank you again!!!), and I had the brainwave of making it progress as the season progresses.

Since Mary and Joseph aren't yet in Bethlehem, they are making progress towards the town. The stable has not yet arrived (nor has it been made, but that's a story for later), but no matter. We have townsfolk and a few animals, as well as shepherds on the hills!

These figurines were hand-built, and are really exquisite in their detail. I'm so very, very happy with them! It makes it even better that I know personally the people who made them, and can picture their faces as I look upon my little scene.

Here's how it looks now. I'll update as time goes on so that you can see the progression!

Sheep and the shepherd on the hills

The Holy Family, still distant from town

Another view of the hills, cow included

Town, including water carrier and woodcutter

Ladies gossiping

Bethlehem from a distance. The bare spot in the background will have the stable.

The cheesemaker...with a wood stick; the pot has wooden handles!

The woodcutter, up close

Washerwoman and baker, having a chat

A view of the water carrier to show the detail

Love,

Alexandra

Invernalissima!

That means, roughly, "wintriest". It is the name of an annual half-marathon that starts in Bastia Umbra and runs in the valley under Assisi.

The density of runners at this point of the course has been photo-shopped in this promo photo, but this really is one of the views on the course:





They mean the name--the race is known for being cold and a couple of years ago it was cancelled on account of snow--but this year the weather was perfect for a distance event. As we drove through splatters of rain we could see the sun trying to find its way through, and after a chilly time getting ready we were rewarded with a cool, sunny race with only the lightest breeze.

This was a very important race for me. It is time to start training for the Paris Marathon, and I need to know for what pace to train. I have a three-week-old time for the marathon, but that was my first marathon and I was greatly crowd-hampered. Other races suggested I should be able to do better than the 3:30:17 I managed. I signed up for the 3:15 bracket in Paris, and today's race would dictate whether I trained for that pace or something less ambitious.

Racing math says that someone who runs a half marathon in 1:33:31 (4:26/km) is predicted to run a 3:15 marathon assuming he trains properly for the distance. Therefore, 1:33:31 was my goal time for today. It was an aggressive goal given my marathon performance and the time I turned in at Lago di Chiusi.

I smashed it! 1:31:20, 4:20/km! I started (too) strong, slowed to an acceptable pace with the help of a running buddy whose watch was not lying, then took it one kilometer at a time, aiming to be on-goal or a little below-goal pace for each. At 18 km I was confident of finishing, so I let myself accelerate with (and past) the crowd. I ended up turning in a 4:03 for km 20 and probably a 3:50 for the last km. I say probably because I forgot to stop my watch at the finish--no race is perfect.

I am very, very pleased with my race result. Of course now it means that I have to train for a 3:10 Paris marathon.

Michael

Enjoyable things

I just wanted to note a few enjoyable things about school:

1. The janitors on my floor know me. By name. And not because I get into a lot of trouble. They say hi to me every morning as I walk in the door. I think that this is so sweet! But the icing on the cake is when one of the janitors (Nadia, I think her name is) saw that I had left my phone in the phone box and kept it for me (because you can never tell what might happen if it had just been left around!). She knew: who I am and what my phone looks like. How does she know what my phone looks like?! 
2. Students can get well-deserved whacks over the head when they need it. One boy in my class got whacked on the head for talking too much, and my teacher asked if that was allowed in the schools in the USA. I nearly burst out laughing.
3. Students can get bad grades, and frequently do (but that is a double edged sword!)
4. This.

5. 

   This is a bad picture of a flower my teacher drew on my hand

   Getting home at 12:10
6. Radiators in the classrooms