Dear person or persons whom I have irrevocably failed and/or disappointed,

Facebook is evil. Pure, unadulterated evil.
I really did try to sign up. I really did. My very best. You won't hate me forever, will you?
See, it just rejected me. I think it's because I'm a confessed member of Autodidacts Anonymous. They just hate homeschoolers. The System is trying to bring me down!...In fact, it's succeeding!
Facebook is evil. That is just all there is to it.

With too many apologies,

Me

The Summer has come.

It has come up to terrorize our gardens. It has bred many thunderstorms, but not nearly enough. It has evaporated our pools, fogged our glasses. It has dried up our reservours, killed our chickens, and gunned down many a resolution for Summer Fitness with its tempting array of cold and frozen sugary treats.

And the Summer has gone.

And with it, every friend I have over the age of 18.

I wish every one good luck for the coming year. And the nicest and most understanding of roommates, and very good cafeteria food, and very nice dorm rooms and fridges and professors and classrooms and whatever else you need.
Till next time...

Where's the Big Big Man?

Ever since I was a little girl, the Big Big Man has been in that field on 401 (or capitol blvd, or whatever). You know the one I'm talking about. Blue overalls, black beard, seasonally changes his shirt. I used to beg my parents to go out of their way so I could say 'Hi' to the Big Big Man. At Christmas, the people who owned the farm where he stood would rig up a star over their house, so high up I thought it was part of the sky. During Independence day week, an American flag would be clenched in the Big Big Man's hand.
He was a landmark. No matter where I was, I would think to myself, Okay, the Big Big Man's over there, so I must be...?
He's always been there, the unsung fiberglass watchdog of the capitol.

SO WHERE'D HE GO???
Is it normal for ten-foot-tall men to suddenly dissapear? I mean, he was an innanimate object, for crying out loud.
Or am I just overreacting? Was it 'his time'? Am I going crazy for missing some over-large portrayal of a farmer?

Does anyone have the faintest idea of what I am talking about?

I adore eggs. Almost as much as I adore mayonnaise. Or chocolate. Or Butter.

When we got our first five hens a few weeks ago, I was more than very, very happy. I was ecstatic. I was beside myself with uncontained glee. I was ready to burst with the idea that we were going to have more eggs! Yes! I had just been told that the meaning of life was in my back yard!

But alas, no. Not nearly. Aparently, chickens are slaves to routine, one of their routines being that they go on strike every summer, without warning (maybe there Italian?).

Estimated total egg consumption per week: Let seven eggs be assigned to french toast, three to toad-in-the-holes, six to scrambling/frying, six for hard-boiling, and twelve for baking and ice cream. Total: Thirty-four/Three dozen, at least five per day (and each one of those conclusions came to a completely different number, but whatever).

Actual laying amount per day: Two.

Apparently, our chickens do not share my family's love of eggs. There is a very distinct +/- thing going on here.

(Perhaps I shouldn't write this at lunchtime.)

And it is August.

Is it just me, or is really, really hot?

Alas.
Here's what happens: Harry is horribly disfigured and almost dies but his watch face saves his life, Voldemort gets blue contact lenses and becomes Minister of Magic, and Hermione and Neville get plastic surgery and Bellatrix adopts them. And Ron is blown up on the London subway.
So ends the turmoil and strife of the greatest series this decade.

I had a fabulous time at the Smith's pool today. We stayed all day, and ate cheese and crackers and had flourless chocolate cake, and got very wet. It was drizzly the first half of the day, but dad showed and it all cleared up and was very nice and sunny and the tops of my feet got tan. But the rest of me is lobster pink. How did I manage this?

Today is my Sixteenth Birthday

...And that's about it.
I'm opening a whole lot of cards, and eating a little cake (hopefully), and going to the Smiths' pool, and maybe maybe maybe watching the new Harry Potter movie, if my brothers and I can actually stay in the theatre to see them mangle another one for three hours.

...The Capitol Steps have their 4th of July radio broadcast up! All hail the deranged mocksters!

After Rome, it was a simple matter of our plane from JFK being delayed thirteen hours and an overpriced Starbucks meal to get home.
The limo was not nearly as much fun the second time around. Although that might have been because we spent the night in a deserted terminal under the florescent lights of the seventh level of hell.

And now our fabulous trip is over, and the boys are away at Summer camp, and when we pick them up, we will all go up to the mountains for a week of CFO. (Yes, the many reports you are hearing are true, mum will be camping. All week. In a tent. Without Laura Ashely.)

First thing tomorrow morning, we head out to get my guys, go to the nearest Laundro-Mat to wash a week's worth of boy camping laundry, then go to CFO, where they will just get stinky all over again, but this time with parental supervision.

See you when I get back (again)!

Sunday, June 10, 2007 8:23
The Hotel Osimar
Rome, Italy

This was a horrid hotel that hardened cab drivers drove over hell's half acre to find, on the outskirts of a horrid city.
When we got to Rome, we were all tired and rather unhappy and very hot, and to make things worse, the cab driver didn't know where our hotel was.
He made a few calls, and before we knew it, we were at a hotel in the middle of nowhere.
The best that can be said about it, was that it had a bidet.
We decided that no matter how hot it was, we couldn't just stay in our hotel rooms all day, so we ventured forth into the sticky, smelly, dirty crowded hordes of tourists to see what we could see.
Our first stop was the Colosseum, which I assume would be very appealing in the off-season.
It was...very...big? And hard. And old.
And on that particular day, hot, crowded, dirty and smelly.
Second was the Mouth of Truth, which was my absolute favorite, because the basilica that it was connected to was all stone with one or two windows, and very dark and cool.
From there, we went over to the Palaza de Spanga, to see the the overcrowded Spanish Steppes, and then to the Trevie Fountain, where we only threw coins in so we could ensure our safe return to a major airport next year.
After that, we got some gelato, and took an other taxi to the hotel Osimar.
We got dinner at a tiny place two minutes from our hotel, had a long dinner under the stars, and vowed never to return to Rome again.
Rome sucks.

Let me just say right now, that the Smiths throw the best parties in the known universe.
That's all.

Friday, June 8, 2007, 22:20
Hotel Atlantic Palace
Florence, Italy

After an obnoxiously long train ride, we got to Florence.
After oo-ing and ah-ing over mum and dad's room, we were informed by the concierge that not only was our room not ready yet, it was still vibrantly inhabited.
We could have told him that (he gave us the key).

Upon gaining entrance to our room, we promptly fell on the bed and turned on MTV, which is the only cable show in Italy that speaks English sometimes. The commercials were awesome, because they were all in a language we couldn't understand, so we didn't feel compelled to buy stuff.

Sunday, June 9, 2007 22:00
Hotel Atlantic Palace
Florence, Italy

Today was packed and exhausting and exhilarating and filled with old rocks and gelato.
First thing in the morning, we went to the Academia, where, amongst the old, the antique, and the Prisoners, we saw Michelangelo's David (YES! I SAW DAVID), which was about the only thing worth looking at.

On our way back to the Hotel, we were caught up in a big market, where we bought mounds of silk and linen and Pashmina scarves.
I fell asleep while dad went in search of a post office to mail out our billion and one post cards (if we didn't get one to you, it wasn't for lack of trying), and mum went back to the market in search of more bargains.
When I woke up, it was time to go to the Uffizi Galleria, but dad (who had gone in search of mum when she didn't come back from the market), was not with us.
We were outside the Uffizi for about half an hour (quite a while when you're on 24-hour time) waiting for our tour before dad turned up.
The tour guide was great. He had a bit of a lithp, and said, "believe me," and "by the way," a lot. We saw the Birth of Venus, and the Three Graces, and loads of Pieta, and a couple Adoration of the Magi. Afterwards, we had dinner at il Fratelini, a tiny sandwich stand across the piazza from the Duomo, and walked down to the Ponte Veccio.
It was crowded. Everybody was either watching the Harri Krishna parade that was noisily cavorting down the street, or hanging over the bridge, watching the sun sink into the Arno.
Mum disappeared on a mission of mystery, and the boys and I leaned out over the Arno while dad took pictures.
After about twenty minutes of this, mum reappeared, only to shang-hi me into one of the jewelry shops along the ponte, and after many tears, after much arm-twisting, and after hitting up my dad for a hundred fifty euro, we got a perfect cameo from a Russian lady who spoke English with an Italian accent.
We went back to the Hotel, and the boys went to the gelateria across the street from our hotel to get the Italian equivalent of ice cream take-out.

Day three of Italy
Thursday, June 7, 2007, 10:00
MY Hotels La Spezia

1. Riomaggiore
Riomaggiore is the first town in the Cinque Terre. It was there that we got our first tastes of mountain vineyards, brightly-colored Mediterranean houses, and clear, blue water. We started with a very exciting elevator ride up the mountain, so we could save ourselves for the long climb down.
We solicited sandwiches at the nearest grocery, and ate them overlooking the beach as it started to rain. An American woman had been teaching there for two weeks, and decided that as long as she was over there for the summer, she might as well stay there. Her mother was born in one of the five villages, and she and her sister were going to hike and explore her mothers' homeland.
We lost her in the hike through via Dell'amore, a meeting place for several hundred Romeo and Juliets over the years, decorated with creative graffiti and lots of padlocks.

2. Manarolo
We came through the via Dell'amore into Manarolo, the second village in the Cinque Terre, and immediately sought out fortification in the form of gelato.
Once obtained, it was a simple matter of walking through the village and trying to sight-see in the pouring rain, until the cold pound became too much for up and we ducked into a handy-dandy Basilica to wait it out.

We emerged after fifteen minutes into the sunlight, shaking out raincoats and starting back down the mountain to the station.

3. Corniglia
In Corniglia, we experienced the beautiful views and tastes and smells that I am sure make European adults so irresponsible.
Halfway up the village, mum and dad stepped over to take in a wine tasting, while the boys and I navigated the treacherous waters of a foreign language and got several enormous gelato cones to eat in the hot sun spilling over the buildings.

4. Vernazza
If the Cinque Terre has a village that can be described as more picturesque than all the others, this is it, as it has the best easily accessible beach on the coastline.
We walked through piazzas, past vias, and around endless fountains, slipping on the rain-slicked cobblestones and marble down to the waterfront.
A dog was gleefully ignoring the 'No Dogs' sign, and splashing in the water around a boat that was launching.
At mum and dad's insistence, I put my toes in the freezing cold Mediterranean sea (which turned out to be the Legurian sea) and then skipped over to the bench with mum and ate many yummy sandwiches.

5. Monterosso
Monteroso was a fancy, resort-y village, entirely populated by the rich, the old, and the tourist.
It kind of looked like the Florida keys, except there were gelato stands instead of ice cream trucks, and there were cigarettes on the beach.

Tomorrow at 13:00, we take the train to Florence.

Day two in Italy
Wednesday, June 6, 2007 12:24
The intercity train to La Spezia

This morning, my brother and I went with dad to cash the traveler's cheques that NOBODY USES ANYMORE.
The metro we took was noisy and crowded, and when we finally got to Piazza Missuri it took us 12 blocks of of eternity to find an American Express on via Lago, because the streets change names at every driveway, the map was wrong, and the policemen didn't speak English.
Yeah, I can be an ugly American tourist. So what?

Later on Wednesday
La Spezia, Italy
MY Hotels La Spetzia

16 minutes before we were due to arrive in La Spezia, the train was forced to stop, due to a rather large rock slide. We (and our luggage) were shepherded (with a trainful of other passengers) to a bus, then to an OTHER train on the OTHER side of the rock slide.
When we finally get to La Spezia, my brothers and I (having not eaten all day) are famished (understandably), so we raid the mini-bar (it was free in the last hotel!), and consequently find that this is about twice the street price.
Hmm.

We head over to a restaurant that the concierge recommends, the Trattoria La Nuova Spezia, and upon arriving, are treated to jokes in Italian, swordfish steaks, nyoki with pesto, pasta with cheese sauce and bacon, the house wine, a tray of desserts, a cognac, a cafe corretto, and some very delicious sea-something, which turned out not to be so delicious when we learned it was Squid.
After four hours of this, we had to pay up and go to our pseudo-home, or else risk exhaustion's wrath. It was rather dark, and after about ten minutes of walking this way, we realized we had no idea of where we were.

And that was when it started to rain.

We traipsed over deserted piazzas to deserted streets for another fifteen minutes, finally bumping in to a group of streetlamp-lit teenagers who had a very bad case of the giggles, but did show us to our hotel.

We fell into bed with nary a care.
Only as I was falling asleep did I remember that we needed to get up the next morning...

I'm back. Miss me?

I'm trying to figure out how to do this, since I actually did quite a lot in a week, and even though my life is not very exciting, I'd like to reserve the right to have a good rant every now and then.
Maybe I'll add those later?

Day one of Italy
Tuesday, June 5, 2007, 19:50
Milano, Italy
The Hotel Michelangelo

We just arrived in Milano this morning. We checked in to the hotel, and immediately went over to the train station (across the square!) to buy tickets to Bergamo (about 2 hours from Milano). Bergamo is important because it is where mum and dad had their Montessori training and lived for a year.
We take the funicular to the middle city (Bergamo being on a verrry steep hill).
Once we get there, we are all famished, so we get a lot of sandwiches and eat them on the steps of the bibliotecha, facing the Piazza Vechia, and watch an old man in a purple shirt walk up and down the street with an umbrella, singing to himself.
We took the funicular to the upper city, where the Montessori school was (a Montessori learning and a Montessori teaching school) and along the way, we meet a family of Liverpudlians on their last day. Soon after that, it begins to pour. We skip off in the rain for about 15 minutes, decide that caching a chill would not be a smart thing to do on our first day, and take the funicular back down.
Once it stops raining, we go buy gelato (our first of many), and look at the view (also our first of many).

Tomorrow, we take a train to La Spezia.
And right now, I will indulge my jet-lag, and sleep until dad makes me get up.

Hannah had her graduation party today. Her dad made this toast-speech about doors closing and it kind of made me wonder if I was a closed door, or if I was still open. And it also made me get really teary, so I gulped down my champagne so I'd have something to cry about and got some cake.

Tomorow morning, I shall head off to Italy.
I promise to bring back a camera full of pictures.
And tales of cute Italians in picturesque landscapes.

Ciao!

OHIO:

Packing (I have always hated packing).
Driving (TEN HOURS!).
Nana (words cannot express).
Diana exhibit (very very pretty).
Cheryl's graduation party (Ali's was better).
Seeing the cousins (rambunctious) and the aunts (women) and the uncle (SO man).
Visiting Penny and Jaffe (Yay!).
Packing (I really HATE packing!).
Driving (TEN HOURS!)


Home.

Long, long exhale.

I would like to publicly apologize for:
a) not writing since the first and, alas, keeping my adoring public in the dark (there was nothing to write about! I cannot always make dullness sound exciting, sue me. Any complaints, I take calls Mon-Fri, normal work hours.)
b) not going on my second official Venture Crew outing (a fishing trip. Red necks. Need I elaborate?)


On Friday I went to the Relay for Life kick-off, saw a bunch of people I knew, laughed, and walked a lot.
On Saturday, we dropped my Nana off at Peace college for her 50th High school/college reunion, and I decided I am SO going to Peace until I find an alternative, because the campus is the best.
On Sunday, we went to Mellow Mushroom and I found yet another good reason to attend Peace: there's a Starbucks not five blocks away!

Tomorrow I shall rest and recuperate and pull weeds.

On Thursday, I am going to Cleveland for my mums' best friends' second daughters' High school graduation, see my cousin's cute not-puppy, and eat a bunch of stuff I don't want to know about.

I will see your adoring faces when I get back!

I sat out on the deck today in the Silk-Road-esque heat, slowly eating the topping off four pieces of pizza, while the sun first baked my still-bald scalp, and then made my upper lip break out in moisture so profuse, I was under the impression (for a little while) that I had bitten in to a hot pepper.
Afterwards, I crunched down the last of the ice cream we had for my baby's FOURTEENTH BIRTHDAY GOD HELP US, and thought about meaningful things like the fact that my baby brother will never be thirteen any more (thank God for small favors), and this ice cream would be really good with coffee flavor, and meaningful things like that.

I love an Ordinary Summer Day.

Especially in Spring.

Hmmm...

My mum is 'rendering fatback'.

This is rather off-putting, because on the one hand, it looks like a side of Lamb, only it's fat, and on the other...it...SMELLS really really really GOOD.

Like bacon.

But not smokey.

Just to let people know, mum and I sang Mozart's Requiem with the NC Master Chorale yesterday at Meymandi.
Yes, I know I didn't say anything, but the ticket prices were atrocious ($24.00 bucks! Who do they think they are!?)
It was SO MUCH FUN, and also rather too warm, and now my Little-little brother is going around singing Dies Ire, only with lyrics like, "cum se-dasy-dasy-meela".

My little-little brother, One Who Has Ultra-Low Pain Threshold, just got back from the dentist after having two baby molars extracted.
He hath been talking like thith ever thinth he goth home, because of two gauze pads in his mouth. But unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. I'm betting two hours till that novocane runs out.

Plus, dad gave him a hair cut last night, so his misery is quite complete.