Dreams from Biancavilla

We saw this, coming and going today. The Norman Castle of Adrano from SS284. Another view from the car. Today is a nice day, but there’s a small chill in the air. We hung out for a bit in the morning, then decided to go to Etnapolis to shop. It’s quieter there on weekdays. Taking SS284, we saw Adrano from afar, and lots of fresh snow atop Etna in the other direction. No photo of that, since Joe’s big ol’ head took up the frame. But what caught our eye was straight ahead—a murmuration of starlings. They shifted form, pattern, and speed; they swooped and appeared to be sewing the sky with black velvet buttons. I haven’t witnessed this in person until now, I’ve only seen it on videos. I understand the starlings innately know to flock this way as a method to confuse their predators. They also do it, contrary as their constant movement may suggest, to conserve energy during a flight. It’s beautiful and eerie all at once. We also saw them 3 hours later, upon our return trip. So, Etnapolis. I

Elena, Giuseppe, Ettore at the cake table. Baby Tea. Giuseppe’s parents, Elena’s parents (the oft-mentioned Mariella and Vincenzo), Nonno in center of pic, Elena in hâute couture. Andrea, and mugs to take home. The oven magicians. Sicilian red. Karen’s Day Care. Ettore liked his balloons. A lot disappeared before I snapped the food assortment. Entrance to loft. Bowling lane. I hit a repeat of Alessanro’s family. First/last with Agnese, second with Rachela. Third is Lilliana’s family. The play room, ready for a new 2-year-old! Tanti Auguri “palloncini” Sicilian Prosecco. Illuminated butterfly dancer (through the bouncy pit) The treats for Ettore’s morning play group. Today, Ettore, this bundle of sweet, intelligent, and occasionally mischievous energy, turns two! Although I know Elena has more elegant accoutrements for a party, I wanted to bring some homemade dècor to the playroom. After an early lunch that, honestly, I was uncomfortably full after eating, Joe headed home and I went tow

My Christmas trees and a cyclamen burst of red. The Italian flag is all about Christmas colors, but the red/white/green rectangle I thought I captured got blown aside. Just a wall. Nothing behind it. Archway bricked up. But a fico d’india still grows out of the stones! We have water! Indeed it returned during the night.  Getting up this morning, however, Joe looked at our phones. No charging occurred overnight. Did we trade electricity for water? After we got a call from Vincenzo, asking if he could access our bedroom, we figured there was some control panel in there. Evidently, when the water came back, everything activated at once, and there was a power surge. All is now restored to the functioning modern conveniences. After discussing what we might do today, we decided to check out nearby Belpasso. We were getting set to go when Vincenzo came up to invite us to his home for lunch— Lilliana and her family, and Father Giuseppe the Priest will be joining all the regular attendees. We d

A view from the park. Prettier in person. Sunset view from the park. Hearts for Megan B. A picture of someone taking a picture of their lights. Joe’s Sicilian side spells it with an i at the end. Night view. I liked the pots at the top. Nikos, another example of Greek influence on this island. A nighttime view of our favorite caffe stop. Another nighttime street view. Red heart on a white figure on a red bench in front of a pink building. Trinacria club banner, by night. I like Ipe coffee. Joe’s haul from the vineyard property. Juxtaposition of soft pastel evening sky covering an old jagged gray building. Looking for a good shoe store. He never fails me. This was an incredible read. When Ettore sees my phone, he first points to me: “Kah-yen!” Then goes up the line: “John, Ree-Ah, Nico”. This morning, I awoke before 7:00; it was raining, so I made coffee and promised myself some reading time to finish my book. This has nothing to do with Italy, other than I read the book here, but wheth

The descent into Bronte. Cute traffic cops, and I want one of those hats. Bronte. Bronte hillside peeking through. Memorial to fallen soldiers of both World Wars. Pretty balcony. We had to park far away. Chiesa Giovanni, where we met the students. I think this guy’s a farmer. Monastery. Founder of the school and a “new” idea. He just can’t resist being near insurance business. Our tour guides. Clouds looked threatening, but quickly left. Nooooo, not here too! Bronte hillside. Monastery. Bronte hillside. Mountain porcini, prepared two ways. Licea and chapel, bibliotheca. View to Bronte’s hills. Arab balconies, fish seller. Lava street pavers with some color between them. Busiate with Pistachio di Bronte. The bottarga that was grated over Joe’s pasta. A nice Nero d’Avola for lunch. Bronte balconies. Bronte. Church … maybe Santa Rosaria, but I forgot to note it. The Licea of the students we met. Fungo di perla, from the “basso”. Calamarata with broccoli and grated bottarga, at Ristorante