Celebrations

There are miracles.

A different WiFi reaches my sleeping quarters, and I forgot the password. Normally, it's not a big deal, since I'm just going there to sleep. But when I woke up this morning, there were two mini miracles.

1. WiFi worked for an instant; long enough to read a text from Joe.

2. His text informed me that Trump was found guilty on all 34 counts.

I know there are plenty of people in the US who will still vote him in, (and he'll get a slap on the hands and get away with it all? This is unprecedented, so I don't know). I'm celebrating a temporary victory, anyway.

The cappuccino is so silky, I want to lick the spoon. But this is not done in polite society. The Pistachio di Bronte is like no other. I'd eat a shoe if it were on it.

Savoring today's news, I'm celebrating with a deliciously loaded cornetto with pistachio, and a cappuccino, from Artigiana, One of the best pasticcerie I've known. The calorie count totals what I should have at the end of a day, not the beginning. But when in Sicilia....

It's fun to see this place full of women getting together for what's more typical in hot weather for breakfast --granita and brioche. I second guessed my order after seeing theirs, but caffeine is a need, and the cappucc' at Artigiana is silky. I was surrounded by mothers with adult daughters, a small gathering of friends to start one's birthday, and a couple of young moms with toddlers.

At Artigiana, either at the counter or at the tables, and when walking home, through the piazza where old men meet, and past the greengrocers where things for today's lunch are being selected, I can't help but notice that I never see scowls or anger, and there are usually clusters of friends. Some of the un- scowled is due to the Sicilian control of those emotions, and some of it is attributed to the insular life. There will be a million arguments against the latter, but it does have its perks. You have to work harder, as an outsider, but this has also been said of living in Stillwater, Minnesota. It's not particular to a Sicilian village. Joe's kids have a tight inner micro community in Mesa that serves them well. Here, I believe the insular community is what makes people joyous. It's not just family in the circle; it's the whole village that is a "family". There is a baseline of comfort and security living here, about which one need never fret. Those who know Joe and I through the Rapisardas, plus random people we meet at the park, folks who work at the places we frequent and recognize us, have all taken us into their fold. We haven't had to work that hard at a Biancavillan life (although there have been moments).

Artigiana is near the Metro stop. I toyed with the idea of leaving from there to Catania, but saw that I missed the train by 5 minutes, and the next was at 11:00. I had time to go home and drink more coffee.

Buzzing in via Mariella, she greeted me on the landing, with Elena and the boys in tow. She asked where I was, and I explained my celebration breakfast. Elena said yes; but Trump could still win. When asked what I'm doing now, I said that I missed the train to Catania, so I'm killing time til 11:00.

I'm going to Catania today! Mariella said. Sadly, Rajy's (Tea's dad, Lilliana's partner) grandma died, and Mariella and Vincenzo are going to the funeral at 4:00. Then Elena popped into the conversation and said she's going to Catania in the morning, to a really nice hair stylist (I should tag along as a pity case). "You make a passeggiata while I'm getting my haircut, then we go have a beautiful lunch together". I'll go to Catania twice!

Joe says videos aren't loading, but I'll try again. I wanted to record the scrap metal collector I hear EVERY DAY.

Off to Catania with Mariella and Vincenzo, who are attending the funeral while I shop for wine. Oh, Catania, why do some tourists hate on you?? Bella Catania!

The irony of seeing a teeny elephant was not lost on me today

I only had about an hour, so I made a quick circuit, went to the enoteca where I was greeted by the clerk with a refreshing white Zibibbo, and left a bit poorer, but with a shipment of wine and some pretty little thank you gifts the clerk gave me. I also grabbed some wine for this weekend's trip, for visiting Marisa and Carmelo at their seaside house.

My favorite enoteca. The bicycle art is hand painted by one of the few remaining cart artists in Sicily

Next, into another favorite, Colori del Sole, a shop where all goods are made locally (and by that, I mean near Catania or Palermo). I'm still looking to replace those earrings I lost back home. The owner and I had a great time exchanging stories, and I found some earrings that aren't 100% what I want, but they weren't expensive and are a good placeholder until I get the right thing.

I decided to get back to the car, our meeting point, 15 minutes early, just so Mariella and Vincenzo aren't waiting for me. They came out of a caffe bar, Vincenzo saying I'm 15 minutes in anticipo. Why?, he asked. Mariella said, because she's Karen!

On the ride home, Vincenzo began talking about his favorite topic: Rome. I sometimes have fear, when he's driving, as he gets so animated, the highway lines appear to be only a suggestion. I asked if he's ever considered buying a place in Rome. He admits, he absolutely loves the Eternal City, but its chaos could not be an everyday thing for him. He began to talk about the fall of the Roman Empire, which happened after thousands of years, and today's America (the infant country), where it's happening after only a couple of centuries. All the time we're driving--and this happens every time I'm in his car--the seat belt beeping is continuous, since he never wears one. His Rome lecture got interrupted by a work call, so things got calmer.

Once back, Elena ran me to the post office to claim my Geox delivery that somehow didn't make it into the apartment entrance. 

Now we had to hustle. We're going to Mass. Yes, I know; the underworld is shaking from all this Catholicism I'm taking in. Today is the last day of May, and May is the month of Mary. So at the little piazzetta right near the apartment's cross street, where the young boys practice skateboard tricks and the older ones smoke cigarettes, is an outdoor church service this evening. Mariella, the boys, and I walked there while Elena drove Nonno the half block there in the little clown car, as we lovingly call it.

Any mass is a bit long for me, as was this one, but I still enjoyed and even knew some of the comforting Italian chants. People watching was a bonus. There were two polizia in attendance, I suppose in case things got rough, or if there were a rapture and someone needed to put away the chairs.

As we gathered, Elena turned to me and said, "So this is a typical Friday night in Minnesota?"

"If there were free beer, it could be."

"Yes, afterward, I'll leave you and you go have a beer for the Virgin Mary," she answered, complete with a swigging one down motion. 

That woman.

Matteo contributed his own form of chanting

Mass musicians

Our friend, Pino, the priest. Italian, raised in Australia, speaks perfect English. 

He's pretty fun.

Foreground, clown car. Background, police.

Carrying Mary back home

Thar she goes

After mass, many people, including the priests, stopped to bend into the clown car and give Nonno un bacio. I leaned in last, saying to Nonno, you're super popular! You don't get 90 years without knowing most of the town, he laughingly replied.

I helped Giovanna carry the folding chairs to her immaculate and fresh smelling garage. We sat in it for a couple of minutes and chatted. As much as I'd have liked to continue, I told her I've had trouble getting in touch with my mom; it's noon in Minnesota now, and I may have a good chance to reach her. She looked a little sad, but I told her we'd catch up. Ok; buonasera, Gioia (she always calls me Joy).

I made carbonara for supper, called mom, and called my sister. True to Sicilian form, there were fireworks tonight, be it only dusk. But the end of May is the end of May, and we must celebrate.

And now, way too late again, I have to get to sleep. Off to Catania early with Elena tomorrow!