Forewarned is Forearmed

Picture this... a lovely fall day, spent wondering thru villas in the Venetian countryside. The astonishing grandeur of the homes, gorgeous art, beautiful gardens, a fun hedge maze to wander through. Add to that, good food and a handsome Italian acting as your personal tour guide; sharing the history of the area, speaking in that sexy accented English... sounds like a perfect day no?

Oh yes, it was... until "It" happened. On the way to visit the villa pictured above, all my water, espresso and wine caught up with me. Still a ways from the villa, driving the winding hilly roads of the countryside, my endurance was pushed to the limit, but FINALLY we arrived at our location. Much to my delight, the first thing I spotted was a few buildings not far from the house. And look - there is a BAR! Bar=ladies room. I am saved! And so, while my Italian purchased the requisite espresso enabling me to use the facilities (tip for traveling in Italy - you ALWAYS have to buy something to use the bathroom) - I hurriedly, yet gracefully (ahem, cough-sputter) ran, I mean walked to the restroom.

I entered. then promptly, with a speed that defied my condition, turned around and walked right back out. grabbing my Italian on the way while he was trying to gulp down the hot espresso. all the while asking me, rather loudly I might add, "what is wrong? what are you doing? why are we leaving?"

Those of you that have spent time in Europe, may have already guessed the horror I happened to see when entering the bathroom. This naive little Texan who was not, I might add, warned beforehand of the sight I might see in the public restrooms. And so, I feel it is my responsibility to warn women around the world that there is always a possibility in Italy you might come across one of these. A "Turkish toilet". Or more aptly, a porcelain hole in the floor, with treads on either side of that hole for your feet.

I dragged my husband as far as that villa, and proceeded to hunt down, in a feverish pitch, the facilities in the building. Thankfully, I lucked out. I found a regular toilet, though lower than what I was accustomed to, one I knew how to use. My husband patiently explained to me (when he got through laughing) that these types of toilets are supposed to be more "hygenic" - a word I would come to hear alot of when dealing with an Italian - though he didn't really go into detail on how one utilized such a thing. To this day, I still don't fully comprehend how to go about using one of these. I understand in theory, but what do you do? completely undress from the waist down? Do you just pull things to the side and hope you have something to hold onto? what if you are wearing pants - I mean EWWWW, I don't want to take my shoes off! More hygenic or not, no thank you.

I have successfully avoided using those in all of my subsequent trips to Italy. I have also, in the telling of the tale, scarred my sister into thinking that ALL toilets in Italy are of that type. (though I have tried and tried to "un-convince" her of that) I feel that while this is not a pretty subject, and I refuse to post a picture (hence the pretty villa pics), travellers should be warned. Be prepared. Either learn their correct usage or when you see one, know you will have to hold it a little longer. Don't be shocked as I was. Knowledge is power. hehe

more later...

The Legacy of Them

A couple of weeks ago, I meant to make a post commemorating my parents anniversary. How many years you ask? 51! After 4 years of dating, in June of 1956 my parents started their journey. 51 years, 4 daughters, 6 grandkids, and numerous pets later, they are still going strong. It's quite amazing isn't it?

I was thinking about them today and what the relationship has been through over those years. Many moves, hurricanes, tornadoes, unemployment, health issues, financial issues, 2 girls in college at the same time (during financial issues no less), deaths, births, time apart, time together and now semi-retirement (semi because those 2 can't seem to just not work). I must say, it is not a bad legacy.

We have a family reunion planned this weekend, so I was reflecting on the fun we always had when we all got together, coupled with my parents recent anniversary. I came to a startling revelation. My extended family as a whole has quite of a tradition of long marriages. On both sides actually, though mostly I think of extended family as my mom's side. My dad's side is very small. His parents died when I was young and I only have 2 cousins on that side. Both of which are WAY older than me (my oldest cousin on that side was at my parents wedding!). But on my mom's side, I have 20 cousins, with only 2 younger than me. Most are married - 3 have never been, and 3 divorces (one of which just remarried). I never really thought about it before.

I attended my grandparents 50th and they were together, holding hands for several years after that; mom's sister is now on her 52th, another sister has her 50th in a year or two, and the other siblings are probably in their 40-something anniversary years. That is pretty amazing in this day and age. Now, I realize that staying together that long doesn't necessarily mean it is a happy marriage or that you should stay married just to stay married. And to be honest, what does a "happy/good marriage" really mean? But whatever the marriages are, they seem to work. I am not trying to make our clan out to be some exceptional family - we have our problems of course - however, in these times where the divorce rate in America is reported to be 50%, it seems an accomplishment worth mentioning.

I don't know about my cousins, but what I learned from my parents about marriage is that perseverance is one of the keys to making it work. It is not love and romance all the time. Let's face it, every day life is not so romantic. There are times when being married sucks, when you think "why am I married to this person" (and come on, you know we all think that at times), when life throws you curve balls, and when things are so good, you're so happy - you are just overflowing with love. My parents also taught us how to fight, which personally I think is a good thing. We're pretty open about our feelings and fighting was not something my folks did behind closed doors. Of course, when I say fighting it does include yelling and arguing but not meanness or anything. It was more of a lesson on communicating and working through an issue, whether it be a problem, or frustration or whatever. As a kid, it didn't make me feel insecure, it was just part of life - heck, I fought with them and my sisters and we still loved each other.

As a result, my own marriage is strong because we are not afraid to let our feelings be known, good or bad. When we are angry or frustrated, we let it out and then move on. My own family laughs at us about it. (One time when we were moving, he really made me mad, I stormed off to our old house to clean and my sister called the new phone number. He answered, said I was not there, he had pissed me off and I had gone to clean. We laughed about it then and we laugh about it now.) As a family, we've never repressed anger or frustration. You communicate it in a respectful manner, and get over it. Getting it out in the open actually takes the heat out of it. And come on, our almost 6 years together have not been so rosy. Immigrating, assimilation into American life, working, unemployment, money and financial stress, health issues, being apart - then together - now apart again. We have run the gauntlet folks. There have been bad times and good, but always laughter. And because of these hard times, I can honestly say we are closer and more in love than we have ever been.

My parents also taught me that hard times are merely passing phases, and to keep that in perspective while looking at the grand scheme of things. We don't take marriage lightly in our family - it is a commitment that you work on and work through. In my opinion, marriage has become trivialized today which is a sad thing. I think divorce is sometimes inevitable and better for all parties involved; marriage is not for everyone. It in itself does not validate someone's life. And don't even get me started on the whole "we must protect marriage...we value marriage in the USA..." blah blah blah political statements, which inevitably will be forthcoming in this next election. UGH - PUHLESE. But I digress.

I think I had a pretty realistic view of marriage going into mine (as realistic as it can be without experiencing it) and I owe it to my parents. I appreciate the lessons they taught me and the example they have been. 51 years - its a lifetime. There is no perfect marriage. You can learn from others mistakes and successes but ultimately, you find out what works for you. Who knows if S. or I will ever see that anniversary (or live that long), but it is an accomplishment worth striving for =)





More later...

Daddy's Girl

Growing up, I was the typical Daddy's girl. I followed him everywhere. He was my hero, my friend, my tea party attendee and just my Dad.

When I was really small, maybe 2(?) and not able to talk much, I used to call my father "Big Boy". (don't ask me why) A story my family loves to share was the time I got "lost" (more like hid in the clothes rack, with my parents frantically looking for me) in a store. The employees found me and announced over the store intercom for "Big boy to please pick up his child at the front counter." HA! back in the 70's things weren't as scary as they are now.

I am close to both of my parents, but from my dad I got my sense of humor, my eyes (and unfortunately my cheeks.lol), my laid-back attitude, and my natural aptitude for flirting (a charming, harmless type of flirt). Now both of my parents could talk to the wall, but as my husband found out a few years ago when we went with my dad to a home show, which took us forever to get through because my dad talked to EVERYONE - it is from him that my chatty nature is derived. While I have a nice blend (I think anyway) of personality traits from both of my parents, my true nature is more like his.

We have always had a good relationship, even in the terrible teen years. Because of him, I really like men, enjoy being around them, appreciate the differences between men/women (this does not mean those difference don't also drive me insane at times), and communicate well with them. He also taught me how I should expect to be treated by the men in my life. which is, in itself, a very valuable lesson.

So even though I am not with him in person today, I will talk to him several times and let him know how much I appreciate him being my father. I count my blessings for having the parents I have. I hope he has a wonderful day, knowing how much his daughters love and appreciate him! (isn't he cute? He really was a cowboy!)

Locally grown = YUMMY

Is it just me or does it seem like there's a national trend going on? One where people are being more picky about what they eat, how it's grown/produced and the importance of supporting local farmers? Well, living with the Italian, I have become much more aware of ingredients in my food and the preservatives and chemicals added to it. Lately, I've seen more and more organic products in mainstream grocery stores. And personally, I think this is great. I won't get started on the additives in our food or genetic modification or now the cloning issues going on, but I do hope that this new trend is just beginning and will grow into a force where corporate America will take notice that the people here deserve and expect better products.

Anyway, I digress. I was so happy in the last weeks to see our local "D Magazine" front cover headline "Eat Local" with articles about our downtown Farmers Market. It reminded me about how much I enjoy going down there and so this morning, my sister and I took a trip downtown to do some shopping. To be honest, our market has some work to do bringing in more vendors but it has grown over the years and there are definitely more stands where the actual farmers who grew the produce are selling it. These are my favorite stands. And it was really good to see the crowds shopping. I didn't find the mushroom stall but will try again next trip.

Today, I was on a mission to find local Texas grown tomatoes and man did I! I had one tonight in a Caprese salad and it was so sweet and lusciously red, I was in heaven. I was a bit disappointed in the fruit selections but I found some yummy Texas figs, onions, new potatoes, organic basil & rosemary plants, cheese from a nearby dairy and organic, free range chicken & eggs (I love the blue egg in there!) from a local ranch. Not a bad haul! This is the kind of shopping I like, talking to the growers and picking ripe, fresh produce =)

After that, with this heat - it was swimming time! WOOOHOOO, it's perfect water temperature and it feels sooo good to get that exercise again. Go out, support your local farmers and enjoy the delicious fresh food your own markets provide - it's a good thing. Yummy food, a little sun and a good book to read. On a hot Saturday, what else could you want?

More later...

There and Back Again

You would think that the repetition of an action would make that action become easier with time. Wouldn't you? I'd say mostly this is true. However, I seem to have an exception to this rule in the form of taking loved ones to and from the airport. It seems no matter how many times I do it, it will never become easier. *sigh*

So instead of focusing on my sadness, I decided to share some observations I made "there and back again". =)

1. Go the speed limit. It seems policemen are out in force on a Friday night at 3:00am (or rather Saturday morning). Hey, I'm old - it's been awhile since I was out late like that. lol

2. Airport check-in desks don't open until 4:30am. which is met with a bit of trepidation when you should be checking in at 4 since it is an international flight.

3. There are A LOT of people flying at 6:00am on a Saturday. Shocking, I know!

4. The airport is not as creepy as I thought it would be before dawn. (see #3)

5. THAT is what a sunrise looks like! I have a personal creed which states, that unless it is humanly impossible to avoid, one should not get up before the sun. The sunrise was very pretty peaking over the huge wall of storm clouds with its soft pinks and purples; but I still prefer the fiery reds and oranges of sunset.

6. Evidently, 3.5 hrs of sleep is enough to keep me awake all day with no napping required *groan*. I usually get physically ill on a couple of hours of sleep - normally I would just stay awake all night - but I guess my sick factor begins right under 3.5 hrs.

7. God sometimes throws you a bone and stops the rain when driving home, which would not have mixed well with the bouts of crying that popped up during the drive. =)

8. Kitties inexplicably have some sixth sense which makes them extra sweet and loving when you are sad. AND they reinforce this by snuggling up against you all day even if you can't go back to sleep (though not from lack of trying!).

9. While trying to sleep and watching one of my favorite shows (Most Haunted on Travel Channel), I reflect on the fact that my husband and I happily indulge each other in our TV viewing selections. Me - his fascination with "B" movies such as "Spiders vs. Earth" and "THEM!" which is about large nuclear ants; Him - my fascination with shows like "Ghost Hunters" on SciFi and Most Haunted . It's endearing....aren't we sweet? hehe

10. The thankfulness I feel for safe journeys and the knowledge that hard times are merely passing phases. =)

And now just because it makes me smile, here is a gratuitous picture of Sophie which mysteriously found its way onto my computer. Stefano evidently thinks she is cute too!




More later...