of returning to work and things you wish you didn't have to do and not wanting to think about it too soon

The last day in Palermo brings great angst.  Last night, I dreamt of being back at work and having to tell my boss something he might perceive as unpleasant.  It was intermittently interrupted by loud music and this weird electrical sound outside my window.  But I digress.  (turns out the local primary school is outside my window and the wind instruments are playing.)

Today, we toured the Teatro Massimo, the third largest theatre in all of Europe.  To my great disappointment, it was built in honor of Umberto Primo, who has a statute gracing every harbor everywhere,  His statute here is large and prominent, surrounded by arches of the porto and by the sea.  Imagine my surprise to hear that he is displeased by the great theatre built for him.  He says Palermo is nothing and does not deserve such a theatre, and he never sets foot inside.

you truly have to be here to appreciate the immenseness

this is the ceiling and the painting are window that open to increase accoustics

Poor Umberto Primo.  For such a lucky man of war, he was an unlucky man of taste.  But fortunately, Al Capone did step inside.  Godfather III was filmed in the theatre.  In Spite of either of these two, the theatre is amazing.  Stepping inside is incredible and now that I know the King's box is available ( Umberto made it a public affair), I will not hesitate to try and book the best.  We have missed the opera, ballet, and other performing arts all by a day.  Such a poor planner I am.  And there are no last minute stand up seats in these theatres.  No these are for the noble, or at least those who can pay.

And in the boys will always be boys category, there is this duo who find the visual behind them hilarious.  It doesn't matter, 28 or 68, they all still have boyish humor!  Enough said on that!

We take off to see another piazza, not previously explored.  This is the plebicita, the parliament of yore.  The locals call it the "Champs Elysee " of the island. Regardless, it is a fine building with horses charging as if they would leave the building for the drivers. Hooves above your head, with brass green blazing their legs.  Down below, standard breds (or the Italian equivalent) trot through the street with carts behind.  These horses almost blind with blinders (sorry for the horse take on this) and hats, stupid beyond belief.  The traffic booming around, these horse take of trotting forward, and tour buses beside them.  I told my son, I would rather be a French dish.  I apologize for my perspective.  My horses have acreage and only one rider to respond to.  Theses poor guys, must go forth regardless of traffic, weather, or noise.  These horses are fed.  They have shoes, with wooden plates, I might add.  It is just a luxury in the US and not here.

Shopping.  Well, yes the last day should be about shopping.  We leave the piazza and head to the one wine store that I liked.  It turns out not to be a wine store, but a souvenir store.  Matters not, we buy the limoncello for our friends.  We buy balsalmic vinegar for those who don't drink.  We buy candy for those we aren't sure of.  We are thinking of you, not being here with us. And, while I am happy I can buy this for you, next time, I want you to come with me.

the monument for those who died because of the Mafia

science fair in a church of the 10th century

a pope in front of the cathedralle

our view from the deck

our veiw from the patio

I am thankful for Michele, our host.  He was most kind and most helpful.

I miss my husband, glad my daughter came, glad my one son came and thinking Lindsay could have made it, and the rest of you, we just need to decide to go!  Patrick, you live up to your Saint name. Our next destination is only one year away...

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Rising to the Gifts of the Husband

My husband is a different kind of man.  Being a Game Warden, he is more earthy than most.  He hunts and fishes.  He has no concern over the often gruesome tasks of his job, necropsy and autopsy of long passed critters.  He often deals with the very fortunate plantation owners and rich hunters of dove and the not so fortunate "redneck" hunters who are both sporting and shopping for food.

The people he meets, meet is a word which I use loosely, have the variety of values that most have with one difference.  They all have guns.  And knives.  And the will to hunt or at least the belief of the will to hunt. So knowing that about him, one could expect his view of the world is different and his idea of presents and gifts might be unique....

So it started long ago, with valentine presents in heart shaped boxes with red ribbons that either contained pocket knives or garter snakes.  And it progressed to a case of my favorite tea in bottles or a set of camouflage pants.  One year, he gave me a vacuum cleaner, at least an ORECK.

There were no years of jewelry or fancy clothes.  But there were many years of children and toys and relatives and gift wrap.   There were several years of Cape San Blas and cold water polar bear swims!  And as the kids got older and the jobs more demanding, we stayed in Tallahassee or Gainesville or sometimes the farm in Madison.

I have tried to minimize gifts and the marketing side of Christmas and Valentine's day.  A gift of stock or a 401k contribution is nice.  An agreement of siblings to not get gifts and spend money on a holiday that is really not about shopping (blasphemy!) is working well.  Less clutter, less muss.  This year, after the socks and underwear were opened, the entertainment was nerf guns and all had a fabulous time.  With so many boys in the family, we had an all out sponge war going.

But back to the husband gifts.  He bought me a fishing creel once and a net, that I think was more wall decoration than real.  The gifts were never traditional, and usually, not expected.

So this year, it is my turn.  I am giving him something he wanted.  He retires in February, and he bought his retirement boat.  Cash.  Done.  I have to tell you as the household accountant, I felt a shortness of breath when he told me he was paying cash.

So, over myself, I hope he loves it.  I hope the Valentine beginning to his retirement is lovely.  and full of fish for me and mine and his and ours.

Happy Valentine's Day Charles Higman and Happy Retirement!

Rising to the Occasion of Yuletide Presents and Baking

Tonight, I pulled the two, go to, Bakers on my list for Cookies that express my feelings.  My two favorites are Martha Stewart and Joy the Baker.  And pistachios and chocolate are the things they have in common.  I love working with both of those in the holiday  baking efforts!

Planning ingredients and number of bags and tins that I will prepare, I stop to ponder some of the best gifts that I have received in holidays past.  Food for sure, there is someone who gives me homemade fig preserves every year and I love it.  But this is the "best column" that does not include gifts from children or husbands, not rings from grandmothers, or family heirlooms.

No, I mean gifts from friends or co workers that really strike a chord.

The presents that I use the most are sort of simple and so easy!  First, is an initialed  leather manicure kit that came from a mail order catalog that I normally would associate with old people ( I get to say that now!).  It is from a friend that I don't see anymore, but I think of her with every trip, when I pack the little kit. Thanks you Laura!

The next is an MP3 player with music on it.  I love that little orange thing.  And someone else taught me how to use Amazon music to download new tunes.  You have no idea how many different dancers I have been, Ginger Rogers, Christina Aguilar, Charo, Shakira or Patty Cantu.  The friend who gave me that, gave me so much happiness.  Floors have never been mopped with such enthusiasm or rhythm.  thank you Tami!
The last is the gift card.  True confessions, I give my gift cards to charity.  I am blessed with a job that gives us cards for the holidays, so I give the excess to charity in honor of someone else.  The Children's Lighthouse is just down the road from me.  I got this idea from a friend who gave me a gift from Heifer International.  How many times do you get to say someone gave you chickens in a flock for Christmas!

I know they are simple, but simple counts.  Especially, when needing a set of jumper cables, which is not something that you contemplate when it is an emergency.  And my brother is the jumper cable King.  He gave them to me and all of my children in a nice little bag for our cars.  And actually taught me how to use them as well. Gifts that keep on giving, I can tell you, I have loaned them more than used them. Thank you Charles Bawl!

Not knowing the people that I am baking for (my husband's co workers), I am forging ahead with my Martha Stewart and Joy the Baker recipes. Because I don't know this crowd well enough to know that they would like a monogrammed anything.

My thought is to try your best, keep it simple and then stand back and let the season happen. the  beauty of the holiday is that it passes and no one says, "oh no, it is not time for cookies".  

I have a correction to make.  While the yuletide spirit of recognition for Mike giving me the Heifer gift was indeed my memory, it is incorrect.  Mike gave me a local food bank gift.  I had the thought right, but the gift wrong.  So thank you Mike.  and Thank you Heifer.  I am still buying chickens for the people in Ecuador...  And you inspired that.

Update, I used the other gift that keeps giving tonight, the Christmas measuring spoons. Pistachio smoked salt dark chocolate cookies and of course those Chocolate Pistachio biscotti!

Update Two: those Christmas measuring spoons give again with the feta scones!