A Night Of Culture

Last night we had tickets to see the musical The Lion King.

Some were thrilled. Others weren't.

OK...Brian and I were thrilled. The rest were thrilled that dad's phone could keep them up to date on the play-off game.

But they are good sports and they like their mama, so they played along.

At least until I tried to get a new photo of the three of them...excuse their clothes. They dress themselves. I give up.

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I love this one...M stepped in and gave a little lecture on smiling when your mother asks you to smile.

Good try, honey.

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Even if hte pictures aren't, the show was FABULOUS.

Even more fabulous? Wicked is coming back next year...and so is Mama Mia.

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Food and Flowers and Cats, oh my.

Yesterday while out and about on random errands that included but were not limited to buying a new bbq and picking up contact lenses and delivering a gift to our dentist, we stopped at Macaroni Grill for lunch.

First, I have always wanted to use the phrase 'included but not limited to' and I just did, so I am happy. Second, we really like our dentist and third, we're not really fans of Macaroni Grill but they've updated their menu and it was pretty good.

They have a warm spinach salad with goat cheese on their menu that made me do the happy food dance and the whole time I was scarfing it down, I thought about taking a picture.

But I couldn't put my fork down.

Their olive's are really yummy, too. Made me want an olive tree in my backyard...

Our little house on our little street is in full bloom in the front...

...and as of this morning, in the back too.

And the girls were feeling neglected and wanting their pictures taken. Really. They told me.

Here's Maggie...

...and Mollie, who has an owie on her leg, which required a full neighborhood conference as to how to handle it. The consensus...hydrogen peroxide, which she just LOVED.

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Today I went and saw the movie BABIES. I liked it. Came home, popped supper (baked ravioli) in the oven, napped (because work is killing me this week) and chatted with a bunch of neighbors who came a knockin'. And was told that my front porch is the neighborhood therapists couch, only free...which made me laugh.

Tonight we are heading out for some family entertainment for all 5 of us. Shocker. Not an easy feat and I am excited. We haven't informed child #2 yet and won't until we feed him well and then need to leave. It's just better that way.

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Furlough Days

I've been sharing my car with Matthew for the last week while waiting for his $85 part to come in and I now feel like I am driving a dorm room.

No kidding.

Our district voted for 4 furlough days this year (those poor teachers. sigh.) so my boys are having a 4 day weekend.

Alex's day yesterday was spent with DR's and the ever lovely (4th this year) MRI of that pesky left knee. It's dislocated (again) and we now need to decide what the next plan of action will be.

And for the record, I have developed a love/hate relationship with his orthopedist. Love that he's so good but his bedside manner is the worst. Next time he mimics me, I punch him.

I mean it.

Other news? I have been replaced by Brian as that guy that I like so much's perfect movie partner. Apparently Brian doesn't even consider romantic comedy's and so there is no deliberating as to what to see. Plus, he's made the jump to PG-13's (blood and guts are OK...nakedness is not, so we still have to research) so the two of them have left me behind in an absolutely quiet house with the older boys who probably won't arise until sometime after noon.

Basically, it is a win-win situation.

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Last night after watching Alex coach his undefeated 7th grade girls team in the play-off's, we picked up Nick's pizzas and fed more males than I can count.

The pizza was fabulous, but my mind is still on the Italian markets, full of brightly colored produce:

Off to buy more milk. Bought 4 gallons on Saturday and we are out. Better yet...maybe we should buy a cow?

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Being Tolerant

We had a late night supper one night while we were in Lucca last week in a small trattoria that had a few tables nestled together outside on a little piazza.

One of the things about Europe that is different than America is that when you sit down at your table to eat, it is yours for the evening. Servers pretty much leave you alone (unless they know you are American...us Americans tend to always be in a hurry to get to the next place, wherever that may be) unless you call them over.

Our waiter this evening was typical. We only spoke Italian to him yet he would only speak English to us. We weren't swayed to change; neither was he.

And so it carried on throughout the first half of (a rather horrid, actually) our meal. He would occasionally come over and speak English. We would answer in Italian.

The next table over was getting all of his attention. They were French and he was having a ball talking to them.

Now my husband, who becomes European the moment he steps on a plane, was miffed. People normally love his textbook (versus my street version) Italian and will usually answer him in either Italian or German. They'll chat away using one of the 200 words that he knows (200 words supposedly makes you fluent...and you are, unless you want to have a real conversation that involves something other than 'where can I catch a taxi?') and by the end of our evening, he has a new best friend.

It's just the way it goes.

But our server wasn't playing the game.

Near the end of our 2 hour long meal (rushed for Italy), and while we were pondering whether to go the espresso vs. vin santo route, it happened.

Our server asked why we were in Italy.

That guy that I like so much started chatting and mentioned music. And our server smiled.

Turns out he is from Poland and now lives in Italy as a French Literature major at the University of Pisa.

The conversation changed dramatically when Chopin came up. Suddenly all the people sitting near us became a part of the conversation and it was happening all around us in French and Italian and Polish and German and finally English. No judging of who understood (or didn't understand) what...just a bunch of people having a friendly and animated conversation about how Chopin is buried in France, but his heart is entombed in Poland.

Gruesome? Kinda. But listening to it unfold was so awesome and made me realize, once again, how thankful I am to be able to see, with open eyes, so many other cultures. And also, that my children lack so much in their education...not because of their teachers, but because our educational system is missing the big picture.

And that makes me sad, which makes me want to write a letter. Like that'll help.

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We sat there for another hour, talking (and listening) with everyone. Just a bunch of people from all different places, not rushing, sitting on a piazza sipping vin santo and eating cantucci while talking in bits and pieces of languages about schools in different countries and healthcare and the war.

It was a great evening. Aside from the food. Well, the bistecca ala Fiorentina was delicious, but the cannellini beans with assorted fish parts was almost more than I could handle. As was the polenta with assorted fish parts. Heck, anything with assorted fish parts is just a bad idea.

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(flower from my garden, picked by Brian. glass from IKEA. Just in case you were wondering.)

Saturday

Why is it that my body thinks 4:30am is an OK time to wake up?

This morning by the time 6 am rolled around I had done my bible study, watched Real Housewives of New York (sadly) and made a rather large and in charge batch of orange muffins.

I think after my 3 plus our extra finished gorging, there are like 3 in the freezer.

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My #35 in the last game of Spring season. We now have 13 days until summer season begins...just enough time to have yet another MRI done on Monday and figure out the game plan for yet another re-injury.

Yep, he went down during the game. Again. In a full brace.

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Got him home and wrapped, iced and elevated and we took off for a birthday party at our clansmen's house the next town over.

Home to the cutest baby in the world...and home to really fancy schmancy new fangled baby seats.

And home to my sis-in-laws guacamole, which I sat next to and kept company for hours.

It's OK...I only ate, like, 3/4 of the bowl.

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Joanna with the fancy hair and Grandma Sandy who smiles in real life.

And the birthday boy who is 4....and entertained us all by doing belly flops into the 1 foot deep kiddie pool in the backyard.

Priceless.

Watching the LOST finale now and struggling with the fact that I have invested so much time into this rather dumb show....yet I KEEP WATCHING!

What's up with that??

End Of An Era

The other night, after 14 rather amazing years, we all walked the 1 block up the street to our very favorite elementary school for our final Open House.

Also amazing was the fact that my 5 were all together.

I like that.

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My 16 year old put this truck (full of food) on his birthday list and made my soda come out of my nose.

He's good at making that happen.

He said nothing in the world would make him more happy than to have the smell of burgers frying in a truck parked outside his house all day long.

Where oh where did he come from???

My somewhat bald 6th grader...that's 3 weeks of growth on his head. The things that happen while grandma and grandpa are in charge...

Matthew outside the classroom where THIS happened.

My oldest two with their favorite 3rd grade teacher, who is retiring this year. I told her she was allowed since my 3 were all done at the school.

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After, we watched The Bachelorette...they were trying to act nonchalant but trust me, they were totally in to it and cannot wait until Monday's episode.

I know because they told me.

The first jewels from the summer garden!

(and I am stressing about my tomatoes...I just don't feel like 21 plants is going to be enough, but it's too late now...)

Finally...a treasure from Italia.

Because everyone should have a leaning tower of Pisa bottle of Limoncino.

Really.

Back Home Where I Belong

All done.

All done with sitting in a garden, eating pasta and reading the 'for sale' ads.

(and yes, we are looking. always looking. dreaming, too.)

All done running into friends from home in Piazza San Marco, Venice.

All done with sipping prosecco IN A PITCHER over a late evening supper.

All done snacking on proscuitto de parma with tuscan melon.

All done gazing out my hotel window at the morning market, while sleeping gondolas bob gently on the grand canal.

All done.

But all done isn't a bad thing, because all done means we are back home in our little house on our little street with our little family leading our our simple little life.

All done. But the memories are priceless.

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The journey home was long and had us traveling by boat and train and plane and bus and plane and finally....a limo.

I will say, the limo part rocked.

Home to where my heart is....with these boys of mine. Our house is currently full...all are home, plus an extra who is staying with us for a few weeks. Laundry is somewhat in control, a major grocery shopping trip has been done and my kitties can't seem to get close enough to me.

Love my kitties.

My sleep schedule is wacky...I've been in bed by 8:30pm the last few nights and up by 4:30am, but it's working for me. Sort of. Tonight is pasta for the masses of boys I am surrounded with...and if I get my act in gear, a sugar cream pie for dessert. My goal is to stay awake until 10:00pm...

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