Sogni di Sicilia

I washed some clothes, edited some photos, showered, and walked to the Wednesday market. I never intend to buy anything there (except produce), but it's Biancavilla's form of community church. The bustle of people and the eavesdropping opportunities are great for language learners. In fact, for the first time in 5 years, I wasn't the sole non-native. A German couple were at the fruit stand. A few familiar words from my time in Deutschland caught my ears, but mostly, I thought — what brings them to Biancavilla? Horsemeat has gone up in price The new caffè bar, Makea At the market  Preparing for a wedding.  I got a glimpse of a bridesmaid in a beautiful silk chartreuse gown. Spotting the little bread house  on my walk home I checked out the advertised new spot, closed for the ferie;  a caffè bar on viale di Europa. It doesn't appear to be anything special. Joe was at the apartment; we met and drove to the vigne. Today's lunch, pasta with pesto, and grilled flank steak...

We were the only ones celebrating Labor Day in Sicily. We took the day off and relaxed.  We stopped at Decó to get wine, and at the last minute, I grabbed some beer — Messina Cristalle di Sale. Today is swampy, and I thought cold beer might be appreciated. This is a particularly good one. We tucked the beer into the garage kitchen's fridge, and I brought wine to the house kitchen. Everyone was lounging, except for Elena, Luisa, and the granddaughters. They were at Centro Sicilia, where Luisa bought a pair of sexy-fit Levi's (pronounced Levvies here). Elena apologized for not telling us they were going; it was spontaneous. I had absolutely no problem with hanging out and not spending money  The kids were playing a game, Who Killed the Wolf or Who Did the Wolf Kill, something or another that seemed akin to Who Took a Cookie from the Cookie Jar. Ragazzi at lunch Happy baby Giulio Mozzarella di bufalo, pepe, origano, olio d'oliva Playing wolf game Teà, reflecting Marta with the...

Last day here means a thorough wipe-down of everything, including the bathroom I don't use. The latter was unpleasant. For a break, I decided to walk, and Joe came along. We ran into the monthly-elevator-check guy, and the ever-vivacious Mariella. Off to Ai Maidda for a caffè and a sweet. Though it looked open, the door wouldn't budge. We kept going, up and around and back to v.V. Emmanuele, where I pointed out v. Dusmet as a shortcut to v. Cristoforo Colombo, up a short flight of sidewalk stairs. Up there would be Crispi, from where the tavola calda were bought for Ettore's party, and further down, Bar Colombo. Let's go there. Joe said, Nah; I'll just see you at home. Well ok, then. (I'm more of a walker than he is). I love this tradition of old friends gathering on park benches There's a Ti Amo Giuseppe on the wall by the church, but my friend Ray always called me Principessa, so I'm claiming this one Former train tracks Steps to cut between v.V. Emma...

Today started slowly, with some tidying up the house and finishing yesterday's blog.  Outside the monestary, Piazza di San Francesco got some Christmas-ing. We decided to have lunch out, trying Red Fish without ordering the pranzo completo , but ordering a tomato and baby shrimp antipasto and a grilled orato (to split) to order. Joe got a glass of house white to wash it down; I had a lovely mineral water. Orata  It was a good lunch, but I think they charged us incorrectly, as it came to twice as much as usual. It was a tough day regarding money things; I had to go for a long walk to clear my head.  The town was hushed. Although that's somewhat normal for the ora del pranzo , It was incredibly quiet today, as if everything was set on velvet. Even my footsteps seemed muffled. It was peaceful. White Castle??! I stopped in one last time at Decò, wanting to get chocolate covered orange peel for Mariella. People we're buying up poinsetta alla   misura del albero -- the s...