Life: Idiotropic

Today was a holiday in Germany, so we all had the day off. Kirk was home. He got back from Poland on Saturday. Tiara safely arrived back from Amsterdam last Thursday. It was nice to have an extra weekend day with everybody. The weather was beautiful again too, so we went to Wildpark Gangelt too see and feed the animals there. The girls love feeding the various deer and boars, sheep and goats. The pine martins, albino ferrets, and groundhogs were a big hit too. Tiara's friend, Mimi, let the girls know which deer had clean tongues since she was usually the first to feed them and got pretty muddy and slimy from some of those deer. Luci found two green caterpillars that she very sadly and reluctantly released after walking with them for some time. Elise played at the playground, then fell twice walking back in her near stupor exhaustion. And spunky Arianna would have stayed in the park all night, upset that I would tear her away. Tiara was home tired. Kirk was home cleaning and planning our October trip to Prague and Krakow.

The sun still has us intoxicated with a bright warm blanket of happy bliss, almost too content to properly complete a to do list. I think I shall like to be one of the wildpark's otters now and just play and nap all summer.

Today we celebrated Mother's Day AND Elise' 4th birthday!

Kirk cooked breakfast so I could sleep in and read (reading is quite a luxury).

Then, upon Elise' request, we went swimming where I realized that I birthed fish. Seriously. All 4 of my girls are sprouting gills. Tiara just made silver level in her swimming (400 meters front crawl, 300 meters breast stroke, 100 meters back stroke, start jump all done in 11.21 minutes plus a bunch of extra stuff...). Arianna can now plunge herself deep into the water and swim about 12 feet under water before coming up. Luci's just behind Arianna moving herself in the water and Elise, swims... her arms and legs both moving her through balance only with my hands at her sides, held more for her security than anything.

In the evening, Kirk grilled and we celebrated Elise' birthday in the garden with cupcakes and gifts. Elise was very sweet. Of course, all the girls decorated cupcakes, then they chose the ones that they wanted. Tiara put 4 candles in Elise' chosen cupcake. Kirk lit them. We all sung. Elise quickly blew out the candles, then Tiara took them out for her. That's when Elise saw the holes. Four holes left in her once beautiful cupcake by those menacing candles. "I don't want that one, Tiaya. I want that one." She says while pointing to Tiara's favorite cupcake... the one she decorated and chose to eat. But the party girl gets her wish and Tiara was stuck eating a holey cupcake.

Elise and Arianna rode their bikes on the back street. Luci, my fearless athlete, and Tiara, both rollarbladed. I sat and read my book in the sun sitting in the folding rocking camp chair that I got for Mother's Day about 5 years ago. Good day.

BTW - Just to clarify that our lawn isn't perfectly level and Tiara was standing slightly more forward than I, so in this picture she looks taller. That is not the case though she stands on her toes when she's near me to look taller and is anxiously awaiting the day that her height, like her shoe size, surpasses mine.

Today Luci got off the bus holding a carefully folded Kleenex square about 2" wide. It had a small piece of tape sealing it on one side and on the front was neatly written, "BUG."

After watching her take care of that small bug on the walk the other day, I was a little worried. Then she brought it home, carefully opened up the tissue, exclaimed sorrowfully that the head had fallen off, and then showed me the HUGE beetle with the sharp pointy behind and the very large separated head. She held it. She touched it. She carefully lifted up it's wing to see under it. She's completely mesmerized by it, interested in it, and not a bit frightened by it.

Then I got the note written on a small yellow lined sticky note from her teacher,


P.S. I just finally posted the IWC Italian night which includes two great new recipes!

http://estrogenpalace.blogspot.com/2008/04/iwc-italian-night-volare.html

At first glance, this is just an average photo taken through my kitchen window of the view from my kitchen window.

But look closely at the house. Then look at the new awning that is being built there. You will see a man. Not a young burly man, but Kirt, the sweet, old, widower who lives there now with Bonzai, his miniature pony. Kirt is in his 80's. I'm not saying that 80 is old and one should stop living, but building an awning and walking around on it standing straight up and holding on to nothing (which is what I saw him do), is dangerous. So is standing on a tall ladder cutting hedges with a lawn mower - another feat I've seen Kirk do from my window. I'm not spying, but I think that one of these days he's going to do something crazy and hurt himself, so I stay and watch and worry and will at least be ready to call 112 if something happens.'

Of course, the people here are blessed with rugged paths and farm roads on which you could bike the entire country without ever getting on a main road, so they are used to biking everywhere and just act a bit younger. Yesterday we were walking back from Rodebach and ran into our landlord's husband who, wearing nice slacks, a button shirt, and tie, had biked from Geilenkirchen to Hatterat to Birgden, to Gangelt, a few others I've forgotten, and was returning. He had errands to run and used his bike like we'd use a car. It's a beautiful thing.

The vibrant yellow rape is taller than my girls now and taller than me in some places, so I know the time will come soon when it is cut. With that in mind, I took the girls on a walk tonight to Cafe am Rodebach where we could walk around a large patch of yellow - one of many that are brightening up the landscape in all directions.

Kirk is in Poland. Tiara left for Amsterdam today with her 7th grade class and her friend who is staying with us for 2 weeks. So, it's just "the littles" and I. I had my camera ready and was soaking up the sun. Elise was whining every 5th step, but instead of being irritated, I remembered just a year ago when Luci whined every time I made her walk. She skipped ahead with Arianna today motivated by the big balls of dandelion fluff lining the side of the road.

Our reward was a small scoop of delicious home made ice cream - only .50 a scoop - best deal in Europe. The kids managed to eat it without mess and we all enjoyed a leisurely walk home - a walk that made me laugh listening to Arianna and Luci.

Luci - my nature girl intrigued by everything and disgusted by nothing. She picked up an ugly bug, carried it around on her finger most of the walk, found a bottle cap to shade it if she thought it got to hot and talked about keeping it forever and taking care of it. The photo of her is one that I took when the bug had climbed into her hair. She was not bothered a bit, but simply wanted me to take it out so that she could cuddle it in her hand again... gently, of course.

Arianna asked me about the big hearts on the many houses we passed, so I explained about May day here and how the boys buy the hearts for the girls that they love. Her first question,
"Can the girls do that for the boys too?"
"No, it's just for the boys."
"So what do the girls do?"
"Wait and be patient."
"Aaaargh. I am tired of being patient. Girl have to wait for answers. Girls wait for cake. Girls wait for EVERYTHING!!! I'm TIRED of waiting!"

And she's only 6.

[This is the May Day heart on Cafe am Rodebach. It says Daniel which means that Daniel is the boy who is giving his heart to one of the girls who lives there. Daniel also gave her a small crepe paper streamer covered birch tree that was carefully fastened to the corner of the house. Smart boy for not climbing the roof like some of them do.]

Anyway... a good walk. A beautiful day. Lovely flowers. And an endearing village. I love it here.

Pronounced "tsoog," it means parade and we have at least 4 little parades each year here in Gillrath. The men march by carrying different banners all dressed in either black or green suits and their felt hats with the feather sticking up out of them. The king and queen marches too and sometimes a band plays. Today it was a drummer, but no band. And, unlike others I've seen, the Gillrath children's soccer teams marched as well.

My girls had been playing dress up and didn't mind standing on the busy street looking frilly.

Arianna was the one standing up until the end, perched at the edge of the sidewalk with her large purple umbrella poised over her to block the sun as in an old Monet painting. She was a gaudy vision in purple and red velour. And then the soccer kids walked by and a boy about her age, turned around, waved, and pointed emphatically to Arianna saying, "Hallo, Prinzessin!" Over and over again.

Oh, she beamed and giggled and danced. "He called me a princess!!! I can't believe he called me a princess!!! I didn't think anyone would call me a princess!!! Wow!!!" I think that little gesture of a small German boy has made Arianna's decade - at least.

Elise saw a friend in the parade which made her quite happy as well. And then, as quickly as it began, it ended, and we all sat together on the windowsill of my house - us and Tante Tinny, enjoying the weather an not wanting to go back inside.

Holland is not a country, rather, it is a region of The Netherlands. Just as we would have North and South Dakota. The Netherlands has North and South Holland and while the whole of the country is absolutely beautiful, the Hollands are the areas where Dutch storybooks come from. Here is where you'll find old windmills in abundance littered around the canal ribboned fields of overly fat cows ready for their daily milking, rounds of cheese bigger then the tires on your car, swans everywhere, and tulips in bright bands of color adorning the fields along the coast. This is where you'll find Amsterdam, The Hague, a plethora of museums housing the well-known Dutch masters' works, houseboats lining the wider canals, and more bicycles than there are people to ride them.


Keukenhof done, we stopped on our way home today to spend a few hours in Delft. I love the roof lines in Holland. The whimsical stair stepped rooftops and slight tilt of the old buildings all stuck together. I still enjoy walking through the old towns and enjoy the history there, but I am also beginning to see the commonalities almost too much. Against all attempts to view this place where I live with all the wonder and excitement that I had when I first arrived, there are things that are starting to get, in spite of their interest and beauty, (dare I say it) - ordinary. Ouch. Sorry Delft. It is beautiful. The old Rathaus is beautiful and especially so today with not one, but two weddings in it while we were there. Any building is made instantly more beautiful if a bride is standing in front of it. And the Niewe Kerk (New Church) was impressive with it's massive tower dwarfing to doll house proportions all the tiny little buildings lining the market square. Of course, there were beautiful old buildings from the 1300's and earlier, lovely canals with nesting birds and little balls of downy fluff floating after their mommies in the still water, beautiful shop full of all the pretties that a tourist could want (at prices that a prince could barely afford), and sidewalk cafes with food to tempt you.

We stopped at one nice cafe for lunch and sat out under a big tree near the canal and a main pedestrian area where we could people watch. Arianna was disappointed that we didn't get the fish for her that she'd wanted at the old fish market nearby, but she's my only fish-eating child, so she had to go without. The lunch was good and the location was perfect. From there we took a long walk and got ice cream before heading home. It gave me a chance to look into some more shops where I found dreamy Delft pottery that I couldn't justify with lottery winnings and beautiful Italian pewter priced double what I paid for it in Italy.

The Royal Delft pottery is beautiful - there's no denying that. There is a long tradition of it there that they are and should be proud of. The pieces are hand painted which, I know from experience, takes time. It is; however, still pottery - fired clay with glaze. The materials themselves are not expensive. And while the workmanship counts for something, I can't justify paying $$$ (a small tulip vase that I liked was 140Euro) - the big ones went for hundreds on up... and I saw pieces for thousands. But, I love the traditional tulip vase shape with different places for each bloom. It is a traditional piece that, if I were to buy something, I would love to have. So, I'll look for a mold and see if I can make one. The painting itself isn't complicated. It's the shape that is special.

All in all, a very nice day spent relaxing in the sun that was a surprise gift after a rainy forecast and strolling slowly through the old streets pretending that there was not any sort of work ever required of us again. And, we did leave with souvenirs. I found a very nice cooking shop that sold beautiful things, so I got a couple pasta cutters and a few other odds and ends. Fun stuff.

The day was topped off with a whopping 60 Euro ticket for who knows what. There were absolutely no signs anywhere that indicated that we couldn't park there. There were parking spots and we fit into ours quite well. Others both Dutch and tourist were parked there. Very strange. And very expensive. An unplanned souvenir I could've gone without.

Wednesday was the night that the Germans hail in May with parties and celebrations in the larger towns and villages in the region. It's also the eve before May Day when the young men drink beer, blast their music, and cut down trees for the women they love. There are birch groves where young boys can now legally pay and cut down a sapling, but some still find trees elsewhere or they buy huge elaborate crepe paper hearts and heart or tree get hung on the home of the girl in the night or early morning to show that she is taken. Girls used to guard the trees that their boys left so that another boy would not steal her tree and put down his own. That would mean that she would "belong" to that second boy. Tante Tinny told me that her husband put a 15" tree on top of her house on May Day when she was only 16. He was older and was conscripted into the army in the war, so he fought and they dated long distance until he came back when she was 22 and they got married.

Thankfully for us this year, the police announced that the loud music would not be tolerated, so we didn't hear nearly as much as we normally do.

May 1st is May Day in Germany. It also happened to be Ascension Day here too - Cristi Himmelfahrt - literally translates to: Christ Heaven-Goes. It's Cristi Hemmelvaart in Holland too and a long holiday weekend for us, so we took the two days and went to Holland to see the famous Keukenhof gardens that I've wanted to see since I moved here.

Even the drive there was pretty. The gardens lie in the bulb region of Holland where for miles around you drive by brilliantly striped fields of flowers.


I'm not going to ramble too much here, but these are absolutely the most beautiful gardens I've ever seen. Only open for a few short weeks each spring, this spring bulb garden has over 100 tulip varieties amidst many other bulb flowers. In fact, of 7 MILLION bulbs planted by hand here, 4.5 million of those are tulips. Amazing, huh?

We endured rain during which the restaurant was inundated with humanity to the extent of standing-room-only and no tables by the time we'd gotten our 4 trays of food. So I stood there bewildered with my 3 little girls, Tiara, and Kirk and our trays of hot food, wondering what in the world we'd do. Finally we put our trays down on an unused counter area and started to eat there. Seeing the little ones barely able to reach, one of the kind ladies working there told us to go to the wine table. So, there we ate. Standing at a small wine-covered island in the middle of the cafeteria style restaurant amidst people reaching in for wine every few moments. The little girls were finally at perfect height and I stood there holding my plate of hot chicken and rice in one hand and my fork in the other feeling quite conspicuous, but hungry enough not to care.


Umbrellas sold out in the first moments of that deluge. I didn't bring ours. But, thankfully it passed after a while and the sun eventually shone again.

The rain on the flowers was beautiful anyway, so I was happy. Squares of tulips laid to the side in unison, beaten by the wind and rain. I was a kid in a candy store with so many beautiful flowers and camera always poised. The kids enjoyed the freedom of movement there and the frequent little attention grabbers - kids playgrounds, baby ducks, pieces of art and sculpture... there's a great mix there.

All in all, we spent 5 hours there and would have easily spent more if the playground had not been so wet. But after 5 hours, the girls were tired and needed to rest. Thankfully, our hotel had a fabulous swimming pool in which the girls all got to play. Elise could even touch the bottom with her feet at the shallow end and Arianna finally mastered swimming underwater with her eyes open all by herself - an accomplishment for which she's quite proud.

A few years ago, the girls got hand-made snowman towels for Christmas. Those towels are still their favorites.

Since this winter was so cold and in order to rescue my sanity and reduce the post-bath whining in the house, I started putting the girls towels in the dryer (which is in the bathroom anyway - old house, strange plumbing) so that they can have hot towels when they get out. They are soooo happy now after their bath. It's magical.

Anyway... tonight when Elise got out of the bath, I pulled the hot towel from the dryer and wrapped her up extra tight hugging her to steal a little bit of the warmth for me and she looked up at me with her perfectly angelic face and said,


Ahhhh... my girl. She's just perfect.

Spring is here, really truly. It's finally here.

There is proof of this in the large thick comforters hanging out top story windows to air out and dry, in the cotton candy blooms covering the trees in every direction, in the happy tweeting of birds at an increasingly early hour, and in the time spent with friends walking, talking, and enjoying our surroundings.

It was all topped off today but a visit to my favorite cafe in Immendorf with friends where the girls all got to order a large scoop of home made ice cream all by themselves for only 50 cents each and I got to relax with a berry topped cream cake while the kids played. This evening while the girls wrestled Kirk outside in the grass, I unloaded the summer bin and replaced the contents with every wool sweater, turtleneck, and long sleeved dress I could find in their room. Yep. Winter is finally over.

The events of the last couple weeks have been mostly joyous, with but one sad tragedy. Just one day after a triumphant Luci learned to tie her shoes ALL BY HERSELF, she found a baby bird newly hatched laying in the grass. It's egg was partially still stuck to it's new damp feathers. I suspect that a marder or other critter had taken the egg from the nest and was scared off before eating it. The bird had definitely hatched there. No nest was visible. The bird was barely moving. I was sure it would die soon. My neighbor suggested digging a hole, which Arianna did, but I could not stand to watch a bird being buried still alive. Besides, it was cold out and starting to rain and get dark. So, I brought it in, put it in a safe place in the bathroom where the drier kept the room warm, and gave it water and a little food. Fed and watered it at least every two-three hours even that night... prepared the girls that it wouldn't survive, but still tried. It perked up that evening. The next morning, it was still doing OK, but slow. It wouldn't eat as much. That afternoon it passed away, so I found a nice French cheese box, and we had a burial for it. Luci balled. Absolutely balled. She has my love for nature. Now she's trying to convince us that she needs a pet bird.

On a happy note, I've been outside in the sun which is wonderfully good for my mental health! One day I went walking from Geilenkirchen to Burg Trips and back with a friend, enjoying a cappuccino reward at the end. Saw baby lambs, baby geese, a beautiful blue heron, and a lovely large goose who hissed at me when I got too close. Went into a pet store and found out that dogs and cats cannot be sold legally in pet stores. You can only buy them from breeders or rescue shelters. And, the owner of my favorite cafe had found my local blog and asked if it was me who wrote the nice things about the bakery, so she wouldn't let me pay for my coffee and apricot quark kuchen. It was very nice.

Another sunny day afforded me the opportunity to go to Maastricht with a friend and walk the route that she goes. Funny how we are such creatures of habit. I still park in the same garage each time I go to Maastricht and I still walk the same route. Holly does the same thing - different parking spot - different route. So we did Maastricht the Holly way - by following a row of amazing shopping opportunities and ending at the most delightful surprise ever - a bookstore and coffee shop housed in an 11 century church. This isn't a church bookstore. This is a church building erected in 1274 that is now filled with book covered tables and a modern 3-story platform of books. It is a modern, secular bookstore - AND, it has an English section! (English sections here in Europe almost always carry books written or translated into British English, not American. Not a problem, really, but it is a difference.)

Everyone is happy. Life is good.

One day wasn't enough. Frankly, two days wasn't enough. I'm happy with my life and grateful for the opportunities to travel and see new things, but these are the times that hurt. I console myself with the fact that I've never been close enough to my family to have them over for dinner (so I should be used to this) and there is consolation in the family that I'm building for myself in my children. But there are so many things that I want to be able to do. I want to cook meals for my grandmother - not that she can't cook, but just to help and to share with her some of the recipes I'm most proud of. I'd like to just "stop by" with a dry cappuccino just for the fun of it, to visit, help out, and get to know this incredible woman that I only know through visits and coffee chats over the years and now, the occasional phone call. I want to have the family over for Christmas, Thanksgiving... you name it, I'll cook it. I'd love to celebrate the holidays with them all. It's not ingratitude. I am very thankful for each moment that I am able to spend back home with these people I consider myself lucky enough to be related to... but sometimes I get greedy and just want more. I crave the spontaneity that families living close can have. The, "hey, I just cooked an amazing dinner - come over and share it with us" kind of freedom. And, you know... there is so much of us wrapped up in where we come from. A certain relaxed state of being that comes when you can just totally be true to you are in a room full of people that have that connection. I feel more like me, refreshed and grounded after some time home.

Today was about family. One more visit with Grandma and Grandpa. We took my grandma to Portofino, an Italian restaurant in Pacifica that provides the quiet needed the converse and a soothing view of the ocean. Then we picked up our coffees and went back to Grandma's house to visit with Grandpa over sweets. It was a quieter visit... grandma and me talking more than the others. In fact, I think there as one time when Tiara and both her grandpas all nodded off sitting in their chairs. Grandpa was quieter today. But it was good to be there and to have that time. Still, I kept telling myself that he'd get better. That I'd see him on my next visit. Letting go has never been my gift. Now, of course, I wish I would have known. There are questions I would have asked and things I would have said. It's a dangerous game of woulda shoulda and what ifs.

Yesterday before our drive to the coast, we stopped at the allART Cafe for some authentic Italian espresso so that I could make tiramisu that evening. I'd learned how to make it from an Italian friend months ago, but I was nervous to make it now for family. The key is the coffee, really, so I knew that these precious shots of espresso would make or break my dessert. Last night I put it together and today Angie hauled it over to my sister's house for a family gathering with that side of the family. Wow. A hit! I was pretty happy with it and am ready to deluge my friends here with endless trays of the delicious treat. The relaxed time with family was nice. This was technically, the "step" family which seemed to matter more when I was a kid and my "step" siblings were older and living in a different universe than I. We had nothing in common then. Now, they're absolutely amazing people who I would love to be friends with if we didn't have an ocean and 5577 miles between us.

This week has been too relaxing already. From day one I felt fully rested. Without the activity of my home to keep me up late and the kids who still like to wake me up at night, I wake up each morning to the rhythmic tapping of the woodpeckers in the white oak trees feeling great and ready to tackle a day of play. Today's agenda: the beach.

Just an hour away Santa Cruz was our first destination, not for its beaches or famous boardwalk, but for the food. And it was totally worth the drive. Vasilis Greek Restaurant served up the best Greek food that I've had in a while and the pita is the best I think I've had anywhere. Delicious!

Sprinkled along the unspoilt California Coast are a beautiful collection of old lighthouses, still in use to warn ships away from the rocky coastline. Regal trademarks of the sea, I can't help but stop and photograph them when I see them. I've been inside this one, I think, a long time ago. Now, it's enough to just stand outside and admire it. The Pigeon Point Lighthouse rests between Santa Cruz and my favorite beach - Pebble Beach of Pescadero. I make that distinction because most people will hear Pebble Beach and think of that posh overly popular, but not as pretty, seaweed covered beach where the golf coarse is just between Monterrey and Carmel to the south. MY Pebble Beach is just barely south of Pescadero, a speck on the map so small that most will pass it without even knowing it's there. But that too, is part of its beauty.

This Pebble Beach is, for me, the ideal beach. It is the beach combers beach. A beach for explorers and dreamers. You can't surf there. You can build sand castles. It isn't a place to be seen by the masses. It's just there for those who would take it in and it's still my #1 place to go every time I'm home. The mosaics that my grandfather made years ago that still adorn the walls in his home are covered, partially, in pebbles from my beach. So, it's kinda in my blood, I think.

The parking lot, sitting level with the highway, rests above this small section of coastline splitting it into two halves that could not be more different. Half, and always the first half I visit, is a cozy cove down a small flight of stairs covered in thick layers of tiny pebbles in all colors and a few teenie shells - snail shells and little hats. I used to sit and sift through them with my fingers looking for tiny agates that would allow the sun to shine though and small pieces of a green stone that looks a lot like jade. I still do, actually. And all my girls have done the same.

In the photos over the years, we have decades of photographs of the same beach, the same shoreline, and the same rock formations that remind my dad and I of a fish. We still take those same photos every time we go there. It's a tradition.

The other half of my beach is one innumerable tide pools nesting among gigantic hunks of rock that we must climb over and around in order to make our way down. The tide pools, over time, seem to have lost much of the life was once abundant and common. I used to see starfish and sea anemones. Today I didn't even see a hermit crab at my beach. That worries me.

The tide was out today enough for us to walk down further than I'd ever been, past where we always see the sea lions basking in the sun and playing in the water just out of reach. We walked until Tiara screamed. Then, without a way to continue without passing by an old dried out seagull carcass, we had to turn and go back.

Nothing like a large cup of coffee and something sweet to warm you up and keep you going. After one beach, we were ready for a rest before tackling another and Peet's Coffee was exactly the thing. This chain has sprung up all over California and it was great. The coffee and food choices were delicious!

Moss Beach, Half Moon Bay
Here's another childhood memory revisited, but it too has changed. Dad used to live right across from this protected beach where the most beautiful sea shells littered the beach and the tide pools were so full of creatures that many of them we had to look up in books to identify. Today it was beautiful still with it's crashing waves, splatters of seaweed covered rocks, and warm hills along the shore, but it's changed too. There were very few shells at all and certainly nothing special. We saw sea anemones and a large jellyfish, but that was about it. Tiara jumped off of a rock and lost one pink flip-flop in the fast moving sand, so she hobbled back to the car early. Dad and I walked until we saw more sea lions and, this time, the rocks led from the sand, all the way to where they lay. If they weren't skittish, I could have walked right up to them. So, I tried. I got within about 10 feet before they jumped into the protection of the cold salty Pacific.
California beaches are so special. Actually, I think all the West coast can boast amazing beaches. They are rocky and varied. So picturesque and never dull. I love that the California coastline is relatively undeveloped. Between Monterrey and San Francisco (and farther in either direction), there lie long untouched portions of beach with an occasional public beach or a farm house sprinkled here and there along the way. There are a couple towns, but between those is just raw beauty. It's perfect.

Once again the Italians put together a beautiful evening rich with their culture. Their warmth and hospitality always shine at their events. Tonight they cooked three delicious pasta dishes for us in the colors of their flag- green pesto, a rich red Sicilian eggplant pasta, and a white rice dish with two cheeses. The last two were the best and I am including the recipes below.

The theme of the night was music celebrating Pavarotti and 50 years of Volare, a popular Italian song that's been sung by many bands including the Gypsy Kings and Dean Martin.

Wow. There is some incredible talent in that group. They all sung together, but two of the ladies took the microphones and sung Volare and several other songs. Their voices were beautiful and powerful - it was like sitting through a concert. They danced in traditional red, white, and green costumes, then, of course, we all joined them for a long evening celebrating together.

We played a trivia game about Italian opera and won bars of hazelnut chocolate and some of the ladies practiced one of the traditional dances with the ladies in costume.

Many of the door prizes were handmade which is always a very special touch and they had many treats for us to buy as well.

I was happy to sit at a very mixed up table with a couple of my best Turkish friends, some other Turkish ladies that I don't know as well, a German lady, and a few Americans. It was a nice mix and we all had fun despite some of the language barriers. It went long which is perfectly in tune with the Italian culture that knows how to relax and play and generally enjoys a long stretched out evening. I danced until 11 with them. My Turkish friend, Meral, and I were the last non-Italians there dancing and celebrating. It's wonderful to be a part of that.

I feel like I've really grown up here. Relaxed a little, mellowed a lot, and have grown in confidence. This is a good place for me. I love these people.