Dreams from Biancavilla

Today we’re full-fledged focused on Joe’s grandson, Everett. For this, I’m taking a pause from my daily descriptions, as every minute has been consumed with the latest updates about him. Worth mentioning, however, is that 38 Catanese deacons gathered at the vineyard house tonight, celebrating the end of their latest rigorous study course. Alessandro graciously hosted. What’s notable about that, is that before their feast, they all gathered round and dedicated twenty minutes of prayer and petitions for Everett’s healing. It was very non-Catholic as many of us would otherwise know it; just a friendly, loving conversation about and for Everett, which happened to have been called a prayer.  It left a palpable zing on my shoulders and arms, which I take as a good sign. If you have a moment to also send some positive energy into the ether, we thank you. This is the part of being overseas that is most difficult—the excruciating distance when things are happening back home and you need to be t

We were getting dressed this morning, when we heard a knock on the door, and, since Joe was still in his birthday suit, I yelled, “Aspetta un momento!” but the door opened anyway. Agnese got an eyeful, but was absolutely nonchalant about it. Ettore giggled. While Elena and Mariella ran errands in town, Teresa’s parents, Pina and Antonio, dropped off Rachele, who had finished her tennis lessons. Teresa’s parents are adorable. We talked about the Sacra Cuore activities. An exception was made to hold this Festa, since two bishops were involved. All public festivities have been restrained, out of respect for the Ukrainians—it’s bad form to celebrate during the time that others are suffering. Private, smaller, family celebrations continue. Rodica, the daughter of the Romanian couple caring for Vincenzo’s mom, and Sofia, Andrea’s daughter, came to swim with Rachele and Agnese; four girls together playing made Ettore feel a bit left out.  I remember a childhood day when two friends came over

It is hot hot hot. We, or rather, my  conversion app, did the math. Vincenzo credits these temperatures to the Scirocco (sirocco) winds, hot and humid gusts flowing over the southern Mediterranean basin from Africa to Southern Europe. The trick is to do very little but swim, and that works just fine for me. Speaking of Vincenzo, Ettore, Agnese, and I spent part of the morning making welcome home signs. Mariella hung them outside. He was to be home before lunchtime. After the rest of us ate breakfast, Joe came down and had a late one—on schedule with Agnese, who found his lap. I saw that Ettore’s bike pedal had fallen off, but the simple task fell to Joe’s hands, as I couldn’t manage to wrench it on just right. He’s becoming the vineyard handyman. Just then, Vincenzo returned! We gave him a warm welcome back. Things are back to normal. We spent a lot of time indoors today. At one point, Mariella excitedly approached, showing a notice on her phone that Geox is having a huge sale starting