Riparo Cassataro

Fields

Off the menu pasta

Harvester's fire

Recycling collection stops traffic

I think this is Riparo Cassataro; we may never know.

Goats

Goat on a fence

Another goat

I never tire of this volcano

I began some wash this morning, after having trouble yet again using the door key, and also with starting the washing machine (it turns out it simply was unplugged). I had fumbled, hitting all the buttons before figuring that out, so once it started, it appeared I put it on the “takes forever “ cycle. 

So, we set out this morning to visit a mysterious place, Riparo Cassataro, only 15 minutes away by car, according to GPS. In fact, it was so mysterious, we never found it—or at least didn’t get close to it. This journey (and perhaps the end result) was reminiscent of dragging Laura and Megan through thick and thin to find the mysterious tracks at Clapham Junction in Malta. As Megan says, “pretty snails tho”. We got to an area which looked like a small bastion (oxymoron?) of jutting rock upon a hill. Riparo Cassataro reputedly contains blood-red hieroglyphics from God knows when before anyone knew God. It sounded fascinating to one of us; the other one drove the car. After a few wrong turns and a couple of goats on a fence later, GPS (or, that wretch, Jennifer) said we arrived. I took pictures and will ask Vincenzo when he returns in a couple of days from his Milan property. We couldn’t enter as it was fenced/gated off, and by that I mean a big green screen door in the middle of a field, which was locked. Wire fencing surrounded the door.

We had beautiful vistas of the countryside and Mt. Etna, so I absolutely did not find the venture a waste.

Back home, it seems that Mariella has washed the other loads of laundry for me, including my underthings, which are an embarrassment. I may be asked to go shopping again.

We are trying to figure out this lunch/supper/groceries/places closed thing. Today, after the morning’s adventures, I thought we could hit a tavola calda (literally, “hot table”), where we could get some huge arancini or, I would take a hot panino, and bring home to eat or stand up at a table and eat it. I still prefer my big meal at the end of the day, as charming as I find this midday tradition. But things shutter up from 1:30-4:00 pm; I work at 4, and it’s a bit of a juggle for me right now.

Joe wants to sit down, take his time, have wine, etc— a much healthier approach. I’m trying to do that as well. But, so far, I still prefer a light lunch.

We found a place, a “bar,” (think coffee, not [only] booze) because some are open during the usual closed period, and asked if they also served any hot items, such as pasta, at this time. The very sweet young woman said no, usually just “snack” (porchetta, cutlet sandwiches, burgers, etc), but not til after 8 pm. We kind of nodded, ready to leave, and she said, but I could make some ragù? We said yes! It’s not anything on their menu, and no one else was around at this hour. I worried we were holding her up from lunch with her own family. She asked if we wanted long or short pasta; we said short. It was lovely, almost sweet. It was a pasta course, so I don’t know what meat was used to cook the sauce. Joe had a glass of red wine and I had water; our total bill was €15. Joe paid, and I dug out some euro coins to leave as an extra little tip, since she obviously made an exception and off-roaded for us, from allowing the inside table for us, to the from-scratch meal. But I feel a little bad that I offended Joe by doing so by up-tipping. I’m learning lots of things here, mostly through error😏

We didn’t get groceries; that’ll have to be Joe, since places open only once I’m with Ettore. And, speaking of my ward and my boss, Elena and I had a nice chat this morning. She told me that she understands all of my thoughts about being here, and confessed that her mom said she could never do it—pick up and leave home, relocate to another country. BUT I also don’t have a grandchild or 2/3 of my own kids back in Minnesota. And, though I love and miss my family, I was ready for a real break and something new. The past 12 years begged me for it!

There may be more to report later. Stay tuned.

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Today’s time with Ettore was good, although he careened into Elena’s office more times than I felt comfortable with. She’s a GREAT mom, and her mom is a GREAT mom and grandma. The grandkids, all ages, love nothing more than snuggling in her arms. She was with us today, at Elena’s place, but off reading a book. Ettore and I made a band (he, horn blower; me, toy guitar), and we played multiple renditions of Old McDonald. We also “cooked” together, preparing a birthday party feast, which included a cake made with fish and hot dogs. It was HOT! Hot! Coming out of the “oven”. We also found every cap to every marker, and Pushed Tight and showed our Muscles So Strong when the caps clicked! Since he has 2 rules (no bite, no slap), I showed him how to make farting sounds on his own arm whenever he felt like biting. I explained to Elena before I left that this strange action is because of me. She casually said, Yes, I tell him if he wants to bite, bite himself!

There is quite a lightning show outside. My hanging laundry is soaked. And I’m not sure where my underthings ended up.

Tonight we made some beautiful pork cutlets from meat Joe got at the butcher. A simple mixed salad, some excellent bread, and a bit of wine made for an delicious 😋 meal on a thunderous night.

We got in a call with my mom, and Joe tried contacting his brother, to no avail. Mom asked how we were holding up. Just yesterday, Joe and I both said we don’t ever think about/long for our house. Of course we love our family, but also know they’re all happy we’re here. We’re almost 2 weeks in, when most vacationing folks would be ready to leave. For us, it feels we’ve only just begun.

Good night, and have a pleasant tomorrow.