Back in Biancavilla!

Alessandro (aka Rachele's dad) picked us up from the airport, and we all talked nonstop from there to home. He's a peach.

We were greeted like metal filings to magnets; the family flocked in all at once and gave us hugs and kisses, including the little ones around our knees.

I mentioned that Doug and Lori would visit here, if they could stay put in a place and buy food at the market and cook together. 

"Doug?" asked Maria Teresa, "the man who makes the turkey sounds?" And Rachele, behind her, laughing. "Oh; I miss Doug!" We affirmed, and Mariella and Vincenzo tripped over themselves in a linguistic hurry, insisting they come and stay here.

Elena and family have a church retreat this weekend, so they packed off in the evening. We took a little walk down to Bar Cristal for aperitivi, Joe having a Negroni and me, a glass of white wine. Of course a tray of yummy snacks arrived as part of the price for a glass of anything to drink.

Later, we dined with Mariella and Vincenzo. Poor Vincenzo, who loves to eat, is on an egg, salad, and keto diet. The rest of us enjoyed a meal of naples-style bruschetta, assorted vegetable condiments, and rabbit. Trust me; if it's cooked by Mariella, it's delicious.

Joe tended to a few work emails, I half-heartedly tried to organize my belongings, took note of all the groceries Elena kindly tucked away for us, then crawled under the covers to catch up a little on this blog.

It was a travel day, a tiring day, but a good day. Now, this morning, the vendors' cries echo in from the street, the church bells ring every quarter hour, and an occasional moto races by, yet it is peaceful here. We fell immediately into the rhythm of Biancavillan life, and life is good.

But I do miss my sister.