mama monday: dolce far niente

A few girlies and I watched "Eat, Pray, Love" on the weekend and delighted in all 38% of its tomato-freshness.  None of us are sure why it received such poor reviews (it's schmaltzy, romantic and fluffy...and that's exactly what we wanted) but we didn't let it ruin our opinion(s), or our enjoyment of treating ourselves to manicures and pedicures afterwards.  Sugar and spice and everything nice.

I would have been just as happy to watch the film on mute, so beautiful were the scenes shot on location in Italy, India and Bali.  One particular scene, set in Rome, stuck with me:

Find more videos like this on www.truveo.com.

I may have taken a course dropped a course in introductory Italian during university, and I may be married into an Italian family presently, but - let me assure you - dolce far niente doesn't come easily to me.  As, I expect, is the case for many of us. 

The baby-making issue raises its little head from time to time, reminding me (as many others have reminded me) to "take things easy", "just relax", and "rest yourself".  Perhaps babies have the good sense to avoid being conceived in an environment that lacks peace. 

Happiness is one thing, peace is something else.  I can be hostessing a party, reorganizing my day timer, attending a conference, or traveling to another country and be COMPLETELY HAPPY.  I feel fulfilled, energized, and alive.  But I don't know if I could say that I feel peaceful.  I kind of feel more like this:

(from Hyperbole & A Half)

When I looked up the expression that has stabbed me in the brain ever since I heard it, dolce far niente, which literally means "the sweetness of nothing", I found images that inspired me.  The phrase seems to have inspired many more, since artist after artist painted "Dolce far Niente"s and they all looked similar.  Peace, tranquility, rest, poise, ease.

Doing nothing.

wifercize wednesday: five years ago

Andrew came up with the idea to watch all of Seinfeld's episodes, from the beginning, as dinner entertainment.  And we did.  All nine seasons.  One episode at a time.  I now salivate when I hear the opening theme.

When we ran out of Seinfeldseses, we switched to How I Met Your Mother.  It's a current show, but we wanted to start from the beginning.  Because we're precise like that.  SO DON'T TELL US WHAT'S CURRENTLY HAPPENING ON THE SHOW.  Ted and Robin, like, just got together so I'm really, really happy right now.

I've often occasionally fantasized about telling our kids, one day, the crazy storie(s) that lead their dad and mom together.  In my fantasy, our kids listen with rapt attention to the labyrinthine tale of romance and intrigue.  In reality, I'll probably dish them pieces of it throughout the years as anecdotal warnings of what not to do.

However, if I were to tell our kids the story of how we met I'd have to start with the story a year before the story which, conveniently, was around the same time we each started blogging.*  Although we originally met ten years ago, it was 2005 that became the year of the set up even though we were on different sides of the globe.

September 7, 2005 (click here)
Andrew was on his first trip to Italy, visiting relatives and celebrating his grandparents 50th wedding anniversary.  His post outlined 11 thoughts from his travels, including:

"I’m ok on my own but I don’t want to be ok on my own… it would be nice to have a wife here with me."

September 19, 2005 (click here)
I was teaching ESL in Pyeongchon, Korea.  My plans for further travel to Scotland had been thwarted (hence the dramatic post), essentially forcing me to return to Toronto after my contract ended in November. 

Andrew started a young adult church, finished his B.Ed, and suffered mild heartbreak and I spent six weeks in Great Britain, and joined as staff at the YWAM base in Port Credit, and suffered mild heartbreak all before we reunited at Billy & Sarah's wedding on March 10, 2006.

Looking at these pictures, I want to say to them: "Don't worry, past me.  Your plans have been foiled for a very good reason.  Don't worry, past Andrew.  Your wife will come to Italy with you one day."

How does your story begin?


*  Andrew has been blogging a full year longer than I have, and I have reason to believe he'd want you to know.  Because he's precise like that.

foto friday: sperma!

Andrew's Italian grandfather, nonno, is part retired construction worker, part backyard farmer.  Every square inch of his 10 foot by 10 foot lot (if that) is completely divided into small plots of vegetation, spices, or fruit.  He grows pears, grapes, cherries, tomatoes, zucchini, peppers, basil, several varieties of lettuce (or, as they refer to it in Andrew's family: "salad"), and even figs (which are not native to Canada) - every winter he lays the fig trees down in a hole he dug in the earth and covers them to keep them alive...every spring he uncovers them and sets them back up.

Andrew visited them a few weeks ago and as nonno prattled on in Italian about his harvest, Andrew realized that he used the word sperma for "seed".  Nonno told a story of one day seeing the most beautiful tomatoes but, pity, they grew in the garden of his French neighbour (nonno is very precise regarding national heritage).  Nonno walked up to the Frenchman's door, introduced himself, and asked to have a tomato.  The Frenchman refused.  Nonno, undeterred, impressed upon the Frenchman how amazed he was by the tomatoes, how he himself grew vegetables, and how he wanted the seeds (sperma) in order to introduce them into his own crop.

"Ah!" said the Frenchman.  "In that case, take three."

That was 15 years ago and nonno still uses keeps and uses the best seeds of the Frenchman's tomatoes.

It makes me wonder what we miss out on in our society.  I love that an old Italian and an old Frenchman can bond over their love and knowledge of growing vegetables, though neither of them were farmers.

Now that the nonno-genes are beginning to flow through my own Italian husband, I can see why he takes such pride in our tiny vegetable garden.  Instead of regretting the end of the summer, I'm looking forward to the harvest!

Pears.

Figs.

Grapes.

Tomaotes...

...the size of my head.