My new toaster

It sounds a bit silly to post about a new toaster, but I thought this was a bit interesting.  The very first toaster that I ever bought nearly burned down our place a few months ago.  The typical toaster that you find around here isn't like the typical American toaster.  For one the slots for the bread are fitted with a wire basket with handles that you insert and lift the bread out of the toaster.  There is also a dial that you turn that counts down the time like the old fashioned kitchen timers. 

(the old faulty Italian designed toaster)

One day a few months ago I had put in a two slices of bread to make myself some toast for snack after putting my daughter down for a nap.  Of course as most three year olds do as soon as I had put the bread in she started crying and calling for me.  So I left the bread in the toaster thinking I would be right back to eat it. Of course that was not to be as she was hysterical for thirty minutes, and may have been for longer only I had smelled something burning.  Terror rushed through me as I leaped up and ran to the kitchen.  I found the dining room filled with a thick white smoke from the waist up to the ceiling (that is a lot of smoke since we have 13 foot ceilings.)  The timer on the toaster had got stuck and had thus allowed the toaster to turn my two slices of bread into two very small hot burning coals.  The sides of the plastic toaster had also started to melt but the main source of the smoke was my pine wood shelves which had turned jet black with the heat.  A few more moments and we may have been homeless.  

So finally yesterday after a few months without toast I finally went out to buy a new one knowing that there was no way I was going to buy another one of those kind of toasters!  I was going to get a traditional American toaster that pops the toast up when it is ready, no need to worry about faulty timers.  This wasn't extremely difficult but there was NO selection.  So I ended up buying a Mickey Mouse toaster, much to my daughter's delight!  It was the ONLY toaster with the traditional "pop-up" feature.  Now, it is a Mickey Mouse toaster in the sense that there is a silhouette of the ears, it says Mickey across the front and it has the Disney emblem in the corner,  not because it is a rinky dink appliance.  I am actually quite pleased with the style and design and so far it makes good toast and super fast too!  If you want it lightly toasted it takes literally 30 seconds.  So far I am very pleased with my purchase. 

(my lovely new American style toaster)

Toast isn't as big here as it is in the states (in fact my mother-in-law has never owned a toaster in her life!) but I am sure glad that they have adopted some of the American designs, otherwise I don't think we would be having toast at our house anymore!

My travel nightmare

I've been travelling back and forth from Italy on a regular basis for the past eleven years now.  I prefer some airlines to others and have got pretty good at picking the cheapest, fastest and best served flights out there.  My daughter now nearly four is also a very seasoned traveler, she has now been back and forth to the USA six times  plus a trip from Seattle to LA to see Disneyland (just a little puddle jump to the two of us).  But this last trip was by far one of the worst ever!  It was by far the worst, most disastrous trip we have ever had.  I am not saying that all of the others have been perfect, but this one was a real doozy!  If something could have gone wrong...it DID!

It all started out with a phone call on December 7th.  I was sitting in this very spot (at my little computer) and I received a call from the airline (one I have traveled with many times in the past with no problems).  The man on the other line said that he was calling to inform me that my ticket number had been changed.  My flight number and departure/return were still the same but they had to change the ticket number and they would be sending me confirmation via email.

At that moment I thought "oh this is a bad omen".  But refused to believe that my trip would be anything short of great since they always are.  However I started to doubt this when I went to check in on line one week later.  I was told that check in was 32 hours before departure.  I thought this was funny at the time but decided that I would try and if it wasn't true check in the typical 24 hours before.  So I stayed up until midnight and started my check in.  I was pleased to find that I was able to check in for my flight from Rome to Amsterdam without any problem.  However the long haul flight from Amsterdam to Seattle gave me problems.  I decided that maybe for international flight you had to wait until the 24 hour mark.  So the next morning I got up and went to work early to be able to finish lessons early and check in 23 hours before my flight.  Things then got worse, I tried and tried for two hours to check in and was not successful.  That evening after getting home I made a final attempt and after failing yet another time thought that I would check out the baggage limits, just in case so I would know how much money I would have to take with me for my trip back (it was Christmas after all!).  In doing this I read that for international flights to the USA I was allowed only ONE bag per person!! I thought WHAT!? When did it become ONE!!!  I started to panic!  As usual I was taking loads of presents back to the US including VERY heavy Olive oil, cheese and wine.  Although I was able to get all of our clothes and presents into two bags (one for me and one for my daughter) I was definitely WAY OVER weight on the bags.  So I went back to my computer to check just one more time in the hopes that I had overlooked something or somehow misread the page.  In fact to my relief I found that there was a disclaimer to the baggage allowance.  For those people who had bought their tickets before September 15, 2009 the old allowance of two bags per person would be permitted.  WHEW!  big sigh of relief!  I then calmed myself down and decided I would be positive about the trip and "manifest good things into my life".

SO much for that!  Our flight was at 5.55am which meant that we needed to leave our house at 1.45am.  I knew this when I booked the flight and to some degree it is actually better than a later flight despite the obvious lack of sleep.  (at least there is no traffic on the two hour drive to the airport and there is nearly no one in the airport when you arrive).  When we arrived at the airport my husband asked which terminal we needed to go to.  I told him C which is now the new 3.  So my father-in-law, my husband and my daughter and I  got out of the car and wheeled my three large suitcases and two roller carry ons into the terminal.  When we got in it was of course boiling inside and we were dressed for the freezing weather outside, therefore requiring my daughter and I to promptly remove our heavy outer layers.  I then went to where I thought my airline's desk was (or at least where it had been the last time I had flown with them).  Of course it was no longer there.  So I looked at the monitor to see where it was located and to my horror it was nowhere to be found!  I had about a half minute panic attack and then went up to the information point and before I could finish my question the woman told me that my airline had moved to the building next door and was now with the national airline.  Which of course I knew was one of the partner airlines because in the past after having missed my connecting flight was unfortunately put on one of their awful planes to get back to Rome.  After having confirmed that I needed to go to the next building "il prossimo edificio" which of course meant going back outside and therefore prompted immediate protest from my daughter who didn't want to put back on her coat that she had just removed upon arrival, we left terminal 3. Thank goodness I had my husband and father-in-law with me because after entering the "next building" and going downstairs to find the desks I realized that it wasn't the "next building" but the next MAIN building!  SO we had to go back up the elevator and back outside for a second time and into the "next" building!   We got in and it was a big maze to get back down to the right level.  At this point my positivity is waning and my pessimistic husband is trying to get me to look on the positive side!  At least we found it and we weren't alone.  Finally we find our check in desk and to my relief there was a very short line.  Only problem was the mobile crane that was moving around the terminal making a God awful beep beep beep that echoed and rung in my ears  (at 4AM!!).  When I got up to the desk the woman was very nice to me and began talking to me about how in fact her husband was from Seattle too and was asking me all sorts of things about where exactly I was from and so on.  Problem was that she was having problems finding my reservation in the computer!   Why wouldn't she, it apparently WASN'T my lucky day!  In the end she found my reservation and checked my three bags through to Seattle.  She was also kind enough to print out my receipt and reservation for me.  Thank goodness for that! (I found it very handy later on for my return trip)

The rest of the trip went well, I found upon arrival in Amsterdam the company that I was supposed to be flying on my connecting flight from Amsterdam to Seattle had just been bought out and therefore we were flying on a flight operated by a different company even thought the flight number bore the name of the other company.  Hmmmmm.  The flight to Seattle went well and we had very nice service.  My daughter was her usual travel superstar and we arrived safe and sound in Seattle.   But my luck pretty much ended there.  About a half an hour before landing I asked my daughter the famous question parents always ask, "honey do you need to go to the bathroom?" Of course she said no, and I didn't make her go...BIG MISTAKE!  I do have to admit it could have been worse but when we landed and pulled into the gate everyone immediately popped up and started getting their hand luggage out of the overhead compartments, including myself.  We were standing in the aisle waiting for the doors to open when my daughter announces those famous 5 words no parent wants to hear in that moment "mommy I have to pee!"  Problem was that we were in the middle of the section and EVERYONE had their bags in the aisle, there was no way we were going to get past.   Now my daughter is very good at holding it, and she proved this in the fifteen minutes that followed.  We were finally able to get off of the plane and down to passport control.  By then she was doing the pee pee dance and we still had to pass passport control until we could get a bathroom.  I looked hopefully into the eyes of the people in front of us in line while making comments like "you can do it honey we're almost there" and "just hold it, you'll be ok" (with a bit of doubt in my voice). Unfortunately no body offered to let us go ahead of them so as we got up to the man at passport control I was barely listening to what he was saying meanwhile continuing my words of encouragement to my daughter.  At the same moment I saw a man with a small boy coming out of the back corner behind the booth.  I proceed with asking the agent in front of me if there was a bathroom nearby and he told me it was downstairs in the baggage claim area.  Not accepting this answer I moved on to the end of the area where I had seen the man coming out and asked the agent there if there was a bathroom.  He of course gave me the same answer as the previous agent but when he caught a glimpse of my daughter he saw her distress and let us use the bathroom in the corner which I assume was reserved for passport control agents.
That all taken care of, and feeling a bit better my daughter and I proceed to the baggage claim/customs area.  I got a cart and put our carry ons on it and we found a place by the conveyor belt.  At this point my daughter announces her need to do number 2.  Frustrated I took her to the bathroom where she "can't do it" and so we wait while I recommence my encouraging words, which must have sounded strange to the customs agent that came in.
Back out in the baggage area we finally get one of our bags.  But by now there are two more flights that have arrived and our baggage belt has stopped and the flight number above it has changed.  As I notice this a voice comes over the loud speaker to inform us that "all passengers from flight XX00 who didn't receive their bags will need to proceed through customs and file a report in the main terminal as their bags were not on this flight"  "You have to be kidding me!"  Was my reaction! Especially since I knew that the contents of the one bag that had arrived was simply Olive oil and one bottle of wine!  Can't really brush your teeth or have a nice shower and change of clothes with that!!  We finally got up to the terminal where I was more than relieved to see my mother waiting for us.  She immediately took my daughter and covered her in kisses and hugs which was probably nice for her too since mommy had suddenly turned into Oscar the Grouch!  To my relief I found out that our bags were already in transit and would arrive in Seattle around midnight and be delivered first thing in the morning.

First thing in the morning must have meant something different to me, because at around 10am the next morning I recieved the call that I would be getting my bags.   About half an hour later I received another call from a woman in Alberta, CANADA with a completely different airline saying that one of my bags was mistagged for transfer in Amsterdam and that they had it there in Alberta.  Now I am not sure how that happened with a three hour lay over and the fact that the airport codes for Alberta and Seattle are totally different, but somehow it ended up there.  Finally the one bag that did get to Seattle that morning arrived around 11am, but to my sadness it WASN'T the bag with the cheese in it.  That one finally came the following evening (36 hours after I had packed it)  Luckily it was aged cheese so the damage was minimal.

My holiday in Seattle was beyond wonderful and unfortunately flew by, but I had expected that.  The anxiety began when I started packing my bags.  This is nothing new as I am usually near or over the maximum limit every time I fly.  So after checking the airline's website and refusing to pay $150 for an overweight bag, I decided to keep myself within the 50lb limit for each of my four bags.  Musical suitcases ensued the whole afternoon and evening before I finally managed to get all four bags under the 50 pound limit.  Finally exhausted from packing I went to do my online check in and,  DUN DUN DUN!!  I was shocked but not totally surprised to find that the airline was telling me that I was only allowed one bag per person on our return flight.  I assumed that since the policy had changed recently that they only had the standard online baggage check in up and that entering my ticket number would resolve everything as it did with the European airline.  My luck as it was proved this to be untrue.  So I called the 1 800 number to see if I could get some assistance.  Now having lived in Italy for so many years has made me very appreciative of the excellent customer service you get in America, only the numbers were against me yet again or at least "Dee" was on the other end of the line.  When I told her that on my confirmation I was allowed two bags because my ticket was purchased before the policy change she started to get rude and irritated with me saying "they are a different airline" and "all airlines have their own quirks" and CRAP like that!  So I thanked her for her time and hung up.  I decided that I would try my luck at the airport desk and proceeded to just do check in without claiming any bags.

This was a good decision since I was finally able to catch a break at the airport.  I was told that with having checked in online I would be able to drop my bags with the skycap on the curb which was a much shorter line and proved to be only a 5 minute wait.  When I got to the desk I was pleased to see that there was and older gentleman  helping me (I usually have good luck with them if I smile and am sweet).  I told him that I had a confirmation with a two bag allowance, all the while smiling and gushing with as much charm as I could muster, and it worked, he winked and said "yeah, yeah, yeah, a likely story"  "YESSSS" I say to myself!  He took our passports and scanned them only to find the same problem that I had.  He returned to me and put his arm around me and said "well here is what you can do, you can go inside and wait in line to talk to the lady at the desk (pause) or I can go in and do it for you!" (huge sigh of relief on my part) "that would be wonderful, would you!?" I told him.  After about ten minutes of waiting outside the other skycap answers his cell and looks at me and says "he needs you inside" and then I noticed the nice skycap inside waving to me from the other side of the glass.  Once inside the terminal, the less than friendly lady behind the desk asked me when I had bought my ticket.  I knew I had bought it either right before or right after my return from my previous trip to Seattle that summer, so I told her the beginning of September.  Her response was "NO...it says here in the computer that you bought it August 26th!"  but not in a nice way.  I am actually behind the desk as it is an over flow desk for days when there is heavy traffic in the airport, and I see that there is also the infamous date of December 7th directly under it.  She says but here it shows you bought it on December 7th.  So I explained the whole phone call from the airline and she accepted it fortunately.   She told me it was fine and that I didn't have to pay for my two "extra" bags.
I returned outside to  wait with my bags and have my mom run to the cash machine to get some money to tip the helpful skycap.  At this point he tells me that I have to go back in and prove that I am a resident in Italy!  "Really! with a return ticket to Europe!!" So I went in to show the woman my Italian ID card, which she seemed a bit skeptical about and wanted to know when it expires I told her while pointing to the date "2018" all the while thinking "that good enough for you!?"  Back outside, again, I am told by the skycap that I have to go back inside to get the baggage tags that the unfriendly lady behind the desk had forgotten to give me.  So I went in and got them. (all this time leaving my four bags curbside unattended because the woman was either overly busy, unhelpful or a combination of the two and my mom was still at the ATM.)  When I came back out the man was gone and I had the bag tags.  Finally upon his return he placed the tags on my bags and put them on the belt to be loaded on the plane.  Then he asked me, where are your boarding passes?  Am I glad he asked me.  I was so stressed out about the bags that I had completely forgotten about boarding passes!  The woman hadn't given them to me. Again I went back inside to ask for my boarding passes and her response was " don't you already have them?"  !!!!!  "Doesn't she know her own company's policy" I was thinking to myself, but I politely answered "No, your website instructed me NOT to print boarding passes when checking in online with checked luggage" So she finally gave me our seats, middle section middle two seats, yes, the WORST seats available on a plane.  I guess we were lucky to not be in the very back row, but at least them we would have had an aisle seat!

Finally after saying goodbye to my mom at the security check point (where I wasn't even stopped) I got out to our gate and eventually boarded the plane.  After sitting down the man next to me asked how I was, and instead of my usual "oh fine thanks" I said "I've had better days". Which of course I felt bad about saying but it was true.  He was very kind and told me to wake him whenever I needed to.  But my mood at the time understood it as "you can ask me to get up but don't you dare ask me to trade seats with you".
All in all the flight went very well.  The only problem was that my daughter wouldn't go to sleep and it didn't help that the people behind us had their reading lights on, shining right in her face.  Eventually, as I had dreaded she fell asleep at the very end of the flight.  Of course by that time she had been up for about eighteen hours without a nap.  Now all parents know that it is never a good idea to wake a sleeping child, especially a young child that has had less than two hours of sleep in a 24 hour period, but there was nothing else I could do, I had to wake her upon arrival in Amsterdam.  The obvious ensued.  Complete meltdown!  She was on the floor under the seats absolutely unconsolable.  Knowing my daughter the best way to get through a melt down of this sort is to let her cry it out and not touch her.  So of course all eyes of the plane are on me boring holes in the top of my head as I sit there and watch my helpless child wail on the floor.  As the plane starts to clear I manage to get her to stand up and calm down.  We get off the plane and it is as if nothing ever happened. (typical for a meltdown)  We are lucky and find a mini cart and load our bags on it (which have somehow grown from two carry-ons my purse and another bag.) and my daughter hops on the back and we are off, speeding down the corridor when CRASH my hard shell carry-on flies off of the cart and cracks down the middle.  I am thinking "what did I do to deserve this!!" but I load it back on the cart and proceed, this time a bit more cautiously and a few hundred yards down the way I nearly take out another passenger going the other way as it goes flying of yet again.  This time was the fatal blow, not only did the crack get bigger but the wheel broke off and skidded out a couple feet away from the cart.  Now I'd had it!  We were now just a few meters from the passport check and security area and my daughter was waning again and wanted to be carried.  Luckily an airport concierge had seen me and escorted me to the front of the line where he regretfully told me "ma'am I am really sorry but you can't get through here with that cart"  So as I went to off load my broken bag I caught one of the broken edges and nearly sliced off the tip of my middle finger!  Now I was bleeding!  GREAT!  So with passports in my mouth I start digging in my purse for a tissue with my uninjured hand, thank GOD I always pack tissues! I hobbled my way with my bags and daughter to the desk and asked where I could find a first aid area. Of course the man pointed to the opposite end of the desks on the other side of the lines waiting to go through passport control.  SO I made my way across six rows of people to get myself a band-aid (those of course I hadn't packed in my purse!) The woman was very nice and gave me six of them and then let me side step the passport area and put me directly into the security area.  Mind you I was carrying a 33 pound broken carry-on with a broken wheel, a purse, shoulder bag and a roller backpack while trying to keep my three and a half year old near me.
I put all of this on the x-ray belt plus our coats and shoes and my belt.  Although we both made it through the metal detector fine, my broken carry-on didn't fair as well.  They opened it up and examined and re-examined its contents.  The security agents were very friendly about it and when I asked where I could find another cart the man offered to watch my broken bag while I went to get one.  From here on out things got better.  Despite another complete meltdown after sleeping on the flight from Amsterdam to Rome where the entire plane had cleared off and had to wait an extra five minutes on the tarmac buses for us because my daughter just wouldn't budge, we were lucky enough to get two carts (I always carry two Euros with me specifically for this reason) and had our bags all come out together at the beginning of the group.  Needless to say, I slept the whole two our ride home.  Not to mention pretty much the rest of the whole following week too.
Now I need to become an expert on selecting not only the shortest, cheapest, best served flights but also the ones with the best baggage allowances too!  And one lesson I learned this time was that you NEVER fly with a company that changes carriers in the middle of the trip, even if they are partner airlines!!
Why oh why has air travel become so darn difficult!!

Pork sausage and bean risotto

With our new batch of fresh sausages I made sausage and bean risotto for dinner last night.  The recipe is simple and doen't take long and is oh so tasty on a cold winter day!  Add a glass of nice red wine and you are set!

Ingredients:

1 medium red onion chopped

4 sausages crumbled (about 1/2inch pieces)

1 1/2 cups cooked barlotti beans

1 cup Aborio rice
4 cups chicken broth
Parmigiano
salt and pepper to taste

Chop onion and sweat in 1tbs olive oil for about 2 minutes add crumbled sausages and cook on low heat until cooked through.  Add rice and coat well with oil add about 1/2 cup of broth and cook until nearly evaporated.  Continue adding broth this way until rice is cooked about 18-20 minutes.  Mix in already cooked barlotti beans until warmed.  Season with salt and pepper to taste.  Remove from heat and mix in parmigiano. 

Serves 4

A bad day for the pig

A bad day for the pig but a great day for us.
Again this year we butchered our pig.  Of course I grew up in suburban America reading and watching Charlotte's web and thinking "aw poor Wilbur!"  However that didn't stop me from enjoying my bacon and eggs come Sunday morning.  Now I am married to an Italian farmer who's family has deep rooted traditions, one of which is raising and growing our own food.  Of course we aren't able to live completely off of our harvests but we do have a considerable amount of "home grown food" to enjoy.  Every year come January our poor little pig's life comes to an end and this year was no different.  Now pigs aren't the only animals that meets a tragic end here, but it is the one that I don't actually mind observing.  As for the lambs and rabbits I am a bit more squeamish and refuse to partake in their slaughter. Why don't I feel so bad about the pig?  Well for as "clean" as many say they are I still think they are gross, they are mean and if you aren't careful they can run you down and bite especially if it is a mamma pig.  This has never happened to us but they still seem a bit nasty if you ask me. 

This year I decided to document the process as I see so many things that I now see as being part of daily life going undocumented.   I think it is important to do this because there are so many traditions nowadays that are being left by the wayside in the name of progress.  I am glad my husband's family has introduced me to these things as they are all so different than the things I was used to growing up in suburban America.

 The amazing thing about a pig is that nothing gets thrown away.  Traditionally as my father-in-law was saying the butchering of a pig was a big event, you had many people that would come to "help" and there was usually a large feast to follow.   In the past this has always been true, but this year it was just my husband, my in-laws and the two butchers.  My father-in-law said it was because times are good and people eat meat every day not like in the past when meat was a rarity.  It always amazes me how much Italy suffered after the war and how things were always about a generation behind the USA.  My father-in-law was lucky to get meat on holidays as a boy much less any other day of the year. 

The butchering begins with the stunning and bleeding of the pig.  Afterwards the hair is removed with boiling water and the pig is then split and hung for a day to stop the blood.  The hanging is done in our garage and needs to be done on very cold days.  Then the following day the butcher comes and works his magic.  The butcher that comes here is in his 70s he is very able and fast.  It is still amazing to watch him.  From the pig we get sausages, ribs, salame, pork chops, pork loin, capocollo, and prosciutto.  Of course as I said before none of the pig goes to waste, which means that all of the organs are used too.  This is the part that I don't take part in eating.  The lungs, part of the liver, heart and spleen are all ground up and put into a portion of the sausages with orange peel, sugar and raisins to make red sausages.  The liver is also wrapped in "la rettina" and roasted on the fire with bay leaves.  The intestines are washed and separated and used to encase the sausages and the feet are boiled for il "bollito".   The cheeks are cured and sliced like bacon.  And the remainder of things are used to make the most revolting of all in my opinion "la coppa"  A boiled mix of the remaining parts of the pig, usually boiled then put in a sack with a hard boiled egg and orange peel to dry like a sausage then sliced and eaten plain or on bread.

Although I don't like all of the parts of the pig I think that it is great that nothing goes to waste.  It is also comforting knowing exactly how your food is raised and prepared especially nowadays when everything seems to be mass produced.

Why am I writing this blog?

Today a friend of mine asked me why I am writing this blog.  I replied that I have so many thoughts swirling around in my head that I needed to get out, and this was much easier than writing it down in a diary.  That is what used to do long before blogs ever existed.  But then I got to thinking, why AM I writitng this blog.  I guess the underlying answer is that living here is much different than I had ever imagined before I moved.  When I was first considering moving to Italy I imagined it was probably pretty similar to living in America, it was Western Europe after all, how could it be that different!? Right?  WRONG.  I suppose I would have liked to have been able to talk to someone who had been living this life before I came or even to have read about it.  I am not saying that life here is bad, it is just different, some good some bad, which is of course true about anywhere you live.  I am lucky to have made a group of other expat friends that live in my area with whom to share similar stories and frustrations, but this is a way to get it all out there as it comes to me.  So I guess it is just a compilation of my experiences, perceptions and ideas as an American married to an Italian living and raising her child in rural Italy.  But I suppose you probably could have got that from the title.

La Befana

In Italy the Christmas season ends on the Epiphany January 6th, unlike in America when most Christmas trees are on the curb ready for recycling January 1st.  The Epiphany is celebrated in Italy with the passing of the Befana an old woman or witch with a crooked nose and warts that rides around on her broomstick delivering gifts to all of the children of Italy.  She comes on the 5th of January quite like Santa Claus does on December 24th.  She leaves candy and fruit for the good children and lumps of coal, garlic and onion for the bad ones, however most children recieve a little of everything as it is difficult to be good ALL of the time. 

Traditionally she wears tattered clothing and a head scarf and is covered in soot since she comes down the chimney to deliver her gifts.  Children leave cookies and wine for her and usually like to leave crumbs on the floor to be sure she has come since she is famous for being an excellent housekeeper.  She usually comes ringing a bell to warn the children to get into bed as she doesn't like being seen.

There are a few different stories of origins of the Befana but my favorite one goes a bit like this:  The Befana was known in all of the land for being the very best housekeeper with an immaculate home.  When the three wise men were on their journey to see the newborn Jesus in Bethlehem, they stayed one night at the Befana's home and in the morning asked her to come with them.  She declined saying she had too much cleaning to do.  Later on she had a change of heart and set out with a bag full of gifts for the baby Jesus, but in all of her wanderings she never found him and so she wanders to this day in search of him leaving gifts in every home where there is a child. 

In our town children can see the Befana on January 6th in the town hall where she hands out candies and toys for all of the school children.  This year was my daughter's first year to see her as it is her first year in preschool.  She did quite well and wasn't afraid.  Her father was terrified of the Befana well into his early tween years.  My daughter recieved not only candy but a piggy bank to encourage her to save her pennies and a savings account at the local post office. 

She was quite happy and we went for cappuccinos afterwards with her best friend. 

Christmas

Ever since I started coming to Italy and even after I moved I have always spent Christmas at "home" in America with my family. This of course all changed when we had our daughter three and a half years ago. I didn't feel bad being without my husband over Christmas before having her because we always had New Year's together. But I didn't feel that I could take our daughter away from him on this special day...of course not EVERY year. With my husbands job he is unable to travel around the holidays so I am faced with the choice of staying in Italy every year for Christmas or leaving him here with his family while I go to see mine. In the end it has come down to me and my daughter going to America every other year to spend it with my family. Of course it would be better if he would come with us, but that is just part of being married to an Italian farmer, you can't always have what you want when it come to travelling!

The reason why I've always gone "home" for the holidays is obvious I miss my family, and for me Christmas is the holiday of the year. One of the reasons Christmas is so important for me is the family traditions that my family has. I have fond memories of this time growing up. Every year we would go downtown for dinner with our family friends and visit Santa. We still do the dinner even if the Santa pictures have gone by the wayside. That is until this year! Finally I was able to take my daughter to see Santa!!! This wasn't the first year that we were able to spend Christmas in Seattle but it was the first year I was organized enough to do it! She was three and a half this year so we didn't have the terrified pictures with her screaming and red eyed. She actually thought Santa was great! As per family tradition my mother got her a beautiful Christmas dress for the pictures which she loved because she loves being "fancy" (she actually got two just in case she might need two Christmas dresses!...sure does help being the only grandchild!)

The other family tradition that I love so much is that my mother has always done Christmas Eve dinner at our house. I come from a very large family so our Christmas Eve dinners have always been big. I am the oldest of four and the second oldest of nine cousins on my dad's side and my mom's sister's family always comes too so that is two more cousins. Generally there are about twenty to twenty-five people for dinner. In the past few years this number has increased because friends with family far away have come to spend their holiday with us.

When we were children Santa would come to the house after dinner to deliver gifts (ours were always matching pajamas, another family tradition that continues to this day). Now we are all adults so Santa doesn't come to visit. Instead we have a gift lottery. Everyone brings a gift of $10 or less and puts it in a pile. Every person then draws a number and chooses a gift in that order, being able to choose from the pile of wrapped presents or "steal" from someone who has already opened a gift. Some of the presents are really nice and some not so nice, so it is always fun. To add to this fun my cousin brought a gift to the exchange that she had "re-gifted" about five or six years ago. It was a stocking holder but the awful part about it is that it is a canoe with Santa, Frosty and a random black bear in it. This "gift" has been recycled in the gift exchange every year since. (usually hidden from sight with a note wrapped in the box with something like "you are now the proud owner of the Christmas canoe".)

One tradition that I do miss is midnight Mass at the NPCC. A few years ago our pastor moved churches and it was hard to see him go, but for Christmas Eve we would merely go to his new church in West Seattle, but now that my parents have moved West Seattle is quite a drive and all of the local churches have their masses at nine which is very early.

Christmas morning usually consists of mom's homemade cinnamon rolls, mimosas and coffee and now we have a new latte stand that is open on the 25th so coffee has been replaced by lattes and mochas. We then open gifts and laze around the house until dinner when we go to our aunts house (now two blocks away) and enjoy French onion soup, crab salad Turkey, potatoes and of course Auntie Jan's cookies and candies.

New traditions have also started my daughter and I made a gingerbread house this year (something that doesn't exist in Italy) and we all go for a family Christmas pedicure grandpa and kiddo included! We also went on the holiday carousel downtown after seeing Santa and out for holiday lunch with my sisters and mom. Christmas afternoon also includes a family movie although this year it was sold out.

I miss these traditions when I am in Italy although I am happy to be with my husband. In Italy there are different traditions. On Christmas Eve there are only seven of us. My husband, my daughter and me plus my in-laws and husband's grandmother. (basically the same thing as any old Sunday lunch) Catholics don't eat meat on holiday eves so we have fish (yuck) nothing like having spaghetti and tuna with fried fish to ruin your Christmas eve! The tree is very small and the house isn't decorated for Christmas. Last year I decided to make the best of Christmas so I gave my mother in law my old tree to replace her sorry holly bush that she was using as a tree, and a new Christmas table cloth with matching towel and apron. I also offered to do the dinner but was told not to worry, so I made halibut and green beans to add to the traditional meal. One thing that I do enjoy about Christmas in Italy is the Presepe vivente (or live nativity scene) and the mass in Civita. On Christmas Eve. Weather permitting we make the long trek up the bridge to Civita to attend midnight mass (which actually does finish at midnight) The church is cold and you have to be bundled up, but there is flute music played and the priest is wonderful. In the corner of the church is a very large nativity scene which is elaborately decorated with not only the manger but the whole city of Bethlehem around it. They sing Christmas songs and the priest talks about the meaning of Christmas.

On December 26th the town hosts the Presepe Vivente which entails decorating the entire town as if it were Bethlehem with craftsmen of the time, basket weavers, blacksmiths, bakers (with the old ovens fired up) a traditional market with live animals and cheeses for sale. The local people, including children dress up in elaborate costumes made by a local woman and spend the whole afternoon wandering around the town as if it were Bethlehem. At five o'clock Mary who is waiting at the bottom of the bridge is brought up on a donkey and walks through the town looking for a place to stay. Finally they find the stable where she is met with her child (Sofia and I played Mary and Jesus when she was nine months old). Locals and tourist wander through town eating traditional Christmas cookies, drinking wine and eating cheese. These are two traditions that I truly love in Italy.

Of course the years that I am in Italy for Christmas I have continued my family's traditions as best I can. I have a wonderful Christmas tree and I deck the halls (although not as well as my mom does). I make Christmas cookies and we have panettone and coffee for Christmas breakfast. Sofia always gets special Christmas pajamas and I usually wear mine from the year before. My girlfriends and I also have a holiday party for the kids where they exchange gifts and we have tea and cookies while they play. This year we had more of an Epiphany party because two of us had gone home for the holidays, and it actually snowed that morning!

In the end I am happy that my daughter has both experiences and that she can have two very different traditions to love.