Arms and Armor

Of course the first thing Scarlett noticed about the suits of armor was that some had a metal "cup."  She is very in tune with the nether regions of statuary since arriving in Florence.  Today we had our last "adventure day" and went to the Stibbert Museum which houses a huge collection of arms and armor.  This isn't a real "traditional" Florentine museum, but by all of the reviews I had read it is a kid favorite.  

Frederick Stibbert had inherited his wealth from his grandfather, who was the Governor of Bengal under the rule of the East India Company.  Stibbert was a worldly man and grew up blending a fascination with the Far East and a love for his home town of Florence.  The museum houses arms and armor from Europe, Japan, and the Middle East.  Stibbert's home, which houses the collection, was decorated in classic Florentine opulence.  Stibbert had so much f-you money that the walls of many rooms were "wallpapered" with thick painted leather panels that had been hand-sewn together.  Many other rooms and ceilings were adorned with traditional frescos.

Stibbert was clearly a womanizing mama's boy.  Isn't it odd how womanizers usually hold their mother in high regard?  I had inquired about whether Stibbert had been married because I was curious as to why he left his fortune (home and contents) to the city of Florence.  The curator of the museum chuckled to herself and answered that "Mr. Stibbert liked to collect women too.  Never married and no children."  But, the house had many ornately decorated rooms that were for use by his mother, who lived with him.  She was also prominently featured in many works of art throughout the house, as were Stibberts two sisters.    

But, back to the armor.  The first thing I noticed was how petite the men who wore the suits of armor must have been - in girth and in stature.  They were not nearly as big as they look in all of those Scooby Doo episodes.  I guess I shouldn't assume that full grown men were wearing them, as boys as young as seven were put into the military during that time.  The museum had two full suits of armor for "kids."  Scarlett was stunned that boys who would have been in her school class would have been in the military.  Speaking of little men, the museum even housed the robe and pants that Napoleon wore for his coronation as King of Italy.  That dude was small!  I think the favorite room of Bella and me was the one in which you could try on pieces of armor.  The helmet was wild.  It was so incredibly heavy, in and of itself, I can't imagine how heavy a full suit would have been (and how hot it would have been).  The other surprising thing about the helmet was how well you could hear with it on - maybe I need to get myself one of those in lieu of a hearing aid.   

The other really interesting part of the museum was that it houses suits of armor for horses as well.  The horses used in battle must have been incredibly strong to have carried the weight of the rider in a suit of armor and the additional weight of its own armor.  It was fascinating to see the different degrees to which people covered (or didn't cover) their horses in armor.  Scarlett and I agreed that our horses would have the most extensive coverage, which would have to include cage-like armor over the eyes that made the horses look like they had fly eyes.

While the Stibbert Museum isn't a traditional Florentine museum with marble sculptures and religious paintings on the walls, it was a site to be seen.  It was a great way to cap off our adventures in Italy.  

Miracles

Urns containing the remains of people who have passed don't freak me out in the least.  We have our very own tower of cremation boxes from six dogs and one cat in our basement at home.  But, Scarlett and I were totally freaked out by the reliquaries of various saints that we saw at the Medici Chapel of the Basilica of San Lorenzo this morning.  Now, I had no idea what a reliquary was until today.  It is a decorative case or container (think mini coffin) that holds bones or clothing scraps of someone, usually someone of significance.  

The reliquaries we saw today were mostly of saints of the Catholic Church and were designed like ornate glass eggs between six and twelve inches tall.  They usually contained a bone or bone fragment, but one included a petrified finger.  Fortunately, the finger was in an odd rigamortus induced position as opposed to the "oh no you didn't" position.  I could just imagine that saint's finger waving at me in judgment.  I would have grabbed the kids and run for the exit!

I was totally curious about why one would carry around the remains of saints in a glass egg.  Apparently the saints were believed to still perform miracles from the dead, so their remains were toted around for people to revere.  I am not sure where the rest of these saints' bodies are buried or if the various churches just divvied up their bodies and put them in the glass eggs.  They must have had Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci carving up the saints for the glass eggs.

Speaking of miracles, sometimes it takes a miracle to find a particular address here in Florence.  Addresses are in both blue and red numbers, and they don't integrate with each other sequentially (but they do keep odd numbers on one side of the road and even numbers on the other side).  In fact, 7-red could be blocks away from 8-blue.  The blue numbers traditionally designate residential locations and merely the number is used in the written address.  However, the red numbers traditionally designate businesses and the number plus the letter "r" is used in a written address.  Another nuance that took a little getting used to is that the address is slightly shuffled around from how Americans read an address.  In Italian, the street name comes first, followed by the house or business number.  So, our address in Florence is Via Borgo San Frediano, 37. Thank goodness for my phone and its gps software (and the kids' gps brains)!

Hold your ground

The past month I have spent a lot of time telling the girls to hold their ground.  A city landscape is a great place to practice this life lesson.  I think "holding your ground" is increasingly important for all women to learn, but particularly young ladies.  Bella is just about the age where girls turn into shrinking violets - growing increasingly weary of being seen and heard.  The best gift I can give my girls is self-confidence and a feeling of self-worth.

For me, self-confidence starts with occupying space and holding your ground.  I am not suggesting that the girls should be rude or disrespectful to others.  Merely, that they should feel comfortable being present, respected, and acknowledged by their peers and by adults.  There was an interesting study recently released that showed strong body posture and the amount of space you occupy greatly affects your self-image and likelihood of success.  

So, as we walk down the narrow sidewalks of Florence I am constantly reminding the girls to hold their ground.  Clearly, it is safer for an adult to step off of the sidewalk and into the street if the sidewalk is not wide enough for two people to pass.  But, to achieve this the girls have had to learn to take the inside path, keep their shoulders back, and their head up.  In short, they have had to learn to claim space.  

They got to really practice claiming space and holding their ground the other night at the fireworks for St. John's day.  Tens of thousands of residents and visitors cram the bridges over the Arno River to take in the beauty of the fireworks display.  We were fortunate enough to get to the bridge by our flat early enough for a front row spot!  As people started to roll in, the jockeying for position began.  Bella is a natural at claiming space, a real chip off the old block.  But, it was a great learning experience for Scarlett to not get pushed around.  I told her that she should stand with her feet apart and lean against the wall of the bridge.  The biggest obstacle was the mosquitos who were eating us alive.  The girls were able to maintain their first rate view of the fireworks display with little help from me.

 This evening proved to be a test of Bella's ability to hold her ground.  After a day of lounging, we headed off to the park to play a little soccer.  The park has two enclosures where kids and young adults tend to play soccer - they are more like clay tennis courts than a soccer pitch as we know it.  Let me preface this all by saying that Bella is the ONLY girl that I have seen playing soccer at the park in the past month (Bella claims to have seen one other girl but she was very young).  The boys don't quite know what to do with Bella and she doesn't yet have the confidence to both cross the language barrier AND ask to play with 10-12 boys her age.  

So, this evening I was on one half of the big field with Bells practicing her shooting and a  gang of boys was playing soccer on the other half of the field.  I had to remind her at the beginning to just hold her ground and let them stay on the other half of the field - there is enough park there for everyone and she should not feel intimidated and leave what she is doing.  Girl was in the zone and getting off some really powerful shots on goal.  The most skilled boy was definitely watching Bella - I am not sure if he was sizing up her soccer abilities or just surprised to see a girl on the field.  Scarlett was standing around looking all dejected so I decided I should go play on the monkey bars with her.  A few minutes later, I turned around to check on Bells and wasn't she in the middle of the soccer game keeping those boys at bay.  Turns out the really skilled boy had asked her to join his team!  There was a few other boys on the team that she recognized from other nights in the park.  My girl was feeling good to have been asked to be included in the boys' soccer game.  

As we tackle simple things like navigating a sidewalk or the awkward stages of being a tween, the girls are learning to be present and be seen.  They are also learning to respect themselves and demand respect from others.  Watch out world, these girls are learning to hold their ground. 

Ancient selfie or photo bomb?

During the time when many of the Renaissance sculptures were created, mythological tales and passages from the scriptures were a favorite source of inspiration.  But, often a patron just wanted to memorialize himself or a loved one.  These sculptures were like the modern day "selfie."  The artist always made sure to capture the patron from his or her best side and sometimes even embellished the piece to make the patron look significantly better - an ancient version of photoshop.

Today we returned to the Boboli Gardens to cover some ground that we didn't have the opportunity to see during our last visit.  There were two sites in particular that we wanted to observe - Fontana del Bacchino and Grotto del Buontalenti.  While the grotto was stunning, it houses mostly replicas and we had seen the originals at other museums.  But, the Fontana del Bacchino is so odd and vastly different from other statues made during the same general time period that we all loved it.

The Bacchino makes one chuckle when you understand the context for its creation.  The statue was done for the most famous of the Medici family and is supposedly a very realistic representation of their court jester (Braccio di Bartolo).  While the concept of a court jester (especially one that is a little person) seems demeaning to us, it was the reality of the time and these court members were often some of the most beloved.  From the sculpture, is it clear that Braccio was well loved by the Medici and quite a character.  

For starters, Braccio is depicted as Bacchus, the god of the wine harvest.  One can only assume that Braccio liked to drink and was the life of the party.  Bacchus is also known to represent sexuality and a dropping of inhibitions.  So, it is also probably safe to assume that Braccio was also a hit with the ladies.  It is clear that Braccio was a lover and not a fighter as he is sculpted with his one arm extended in front of him (i.e. the Heisman hand).  This is presumably a nod to a Roman statue of Marcus Aurelius, a Roman emperor, who was known to represent peace and friendship.  

The third and final symbol to indicate that Braccio was well loved by the Medici family is that he is depicted riding on a tortoise.  Now, this also adds to the comedy of the piece as you imagine this poor tortoise ambling along with a fat, little dude on his back.  But, the tortoise is another symbol of the Medici family - usually shown as a tortoise with a sail on its back.  The tortoise with a sail  was supposed to represent the Medici motto of festina lente, meaning "more haste, less speed."  Now, I absolutely fell in love with this motto when I first heard it.  It is interpreted to mean that a person should work with a proper balance of urgency and diligence so as to avoid making mistakes but to achieve the long-term goal.  The motto is also interpreted to mean that work should be done in a state of flow in which you are fully engaged in the work and does not realize the passing of time.  

The Bacchino is a refreshing snapshot of a well loved friend of the Medici family - a nice break from the traditional religious and mythological figures.  While it may not be a "selfie" in the purest sense, it may be more of a well captured ancient photo-bomb.  I guess that is what one should expect from the court jester.

Parade taunting and a crowd baptism

Today is St. John's Day in Florence, where the patron saint of the city (John the Baptist) is celebrated on what is believed to be his birthday.  While some would think that celebration of such a religious figure would equate to a more solemn holiday, they would be sadly mistaken.  As Siena has the Palio, Florence has Calcio Storico - the part rugby, part MMA, and part soccer game.  The girls and I attended one of the preliminary games last weekend, and you can read about those adventures in the blog history.  Today was supposed to be the finals of the round robin tournament and our neighborhood team was supposed to be in the game.  So, there is a simmering excitement in our part of town.

After linner, we ventured out to watch the pomp and circumstance of the gigantic parade through town that precedes the "football" game.  Part of the parade includes the procession of the four "football" teams.  As our new rivals, the Azzurri of Santa Croce, were passing in front of us I discovered that Scarlett is a taunter.  She was saying things such as "boo blue" and something about them "going down."  As if I didn't love this kid enough already, but to discover that she has her mom's big mouth.  How unexpected!  I was a little concerned that one of these gigantic thugs on the Azzurri was going to speak English and have supersonic hearing.  

After the parade ended, we decided that the sky looked a little ominous so we headed back to our flat.  We were barely in the door and had the "football" pre-game on tv when the heavens opened up and the crowd baptism began at the stadium.  Now, it is a little ironic to have a drenching downpour on a day that celebrates the father of the christian baptism.  

Now the crazy rain with accompanying lightening created quite the stir at the "pitch," if that is what you call it in Calcio Storico.  There was much to do about whether the game should be started or canceled.  Every time I would see lightening out the window, I would glance at the tv to see men dressed in historical suits of armor or holding ancient weaponry.  I kept hoping that one of them would not become a lightening rod!  Ultimately someone came to their senses and canceled the game.  But because we don't speak Italian we have no idea what the commentators were saying and whether the game is rescheduled (and when).  I have to make sure that we make it to the next parade so that Scarlett can taunt the opposing team.

linner, linner - this one was NOT a winner

Today we had a major Trip Advisor fail.  Now, Trip Advisor wasn't the only one to let us down.  A few locals and acquaintances  who had previously traveled to Florence were in on this let down too.  We ventured away from our favorite local trattoria and tried one of those "have to go there" places.  To put it mildly, it was a major disappointment.

Now, I am generally a gal who doesn't mind trying a new restaurant.  But at home, we always seem to be in such a rush to just get dinner into the kids that we don't have time to get creative.  Just go where you know and everyone can get something they like.  Our go to restaurants are Chipotle, Neato Burrito, and Pizza Grille.  

As you have heard me say before, in Florence there isn't food variety.  There is tuscan food and there is tuscan food.  Fortunately, we like tuscan food!  But, the longer we are here the more you kind of want to mix things up.  We are frankly only eating one major meal a day (linner), so we try to make it as much of an experience as eating a meal can be.  In my anal retentive fashion, I made a list by major landmark of the eateries that people have recommended.  If we are out and about, I check in with the list and we try to hit somewhere new.  

The place we ate today has been on our list for a while.  Virtually everyone recommends it and Trip Advisor has given it good reviews.  When we arrived, I thought we might be in trouble because it is an extremely large restaurant by Florentine standards.  Restaurants are notoriously small in Florence.  But, it doesn't matter how busy the restaurant is the proprietor makes you feel like you are welcome to stay as long as you would like.  There is no such thing as bringing you your check; you usually have to flag someone down and beg for the check.  From the size of this restaurant I knew that our service would not be good and we were definitely at a tourist trap. 

After waiting for about ten minutes in two different locations without anyone in front of us to be seated, I virtually slide tackled a waiter and ask him how we get a table.  He was kind enough and showed us to a nice quiet space.  When we sat down, I finally had a chance to really look around and noticed that the decor was about as odd as you can get.  There were wine bottles and pictures of famous patrons lining the walls - that seemed pretty normal.  However, there were also really creepy, well played with dolls sitting on shelves all over the place.  I swear I caught a Monchhichi staring at me from the corner of my eye.  I don't really love dolls, particularly ones that have been well loved by little kids.  There is always an eye that doesn't fully open/close or the hair has been lovingly trimmed to the scalp.  These dolls fell into this category.  I swear I was looking for the Chucky doll and had I seen it I would have run for the door.

The next sign that the restaurant was going to be a bust was the size, or lack there of, of my glass of chianti.  The house chianti has generally been fabulous.  And, the pour is usually very generous.  When my glass arrived, I almost spit out my water frizzante and laughed at the waiter.  It was so small I thought they were going to serve it to Bella!  I would have guessed that there is a law against serving such a paltry glass of wine to a thirsty patron in Florence.  

The straw that broke the camel's back was my undercooked risotto.  I love risotto and I have apparently found my go to dish in Florence with mushroom risotto.  Mushroom risotto is like the (veggie) burger and fries of Central PA.  Seriously, every restaurant has it on its menu.  I understand that making good risotto is a labor of love - with all of the slowly adding more stock and all of that stirring.  But, I haven't had a bad risotto until today.  The rice was so undercooked that I thought I might crack a tooth on it - then the tooth fairy would have had the pleasure of visiting all three of the Zarcone girls during our stay.

But, I guess we can't complain too loudly.  We are in Florence . . . for a month.  So, tomorrow I won't get creative and we will just head back to the places we know and love for our linner!

Rock and Roll and High Fashion

Music is in our kids' blood, really in their souls.  Both kids are named after songs that Tom and I love - Bella after a Jimi Hendrix riff and Scarlett after a Grateful Dead jam.  And, no Zarcone girl can hear music without shimmying the shoulders or shanking the rump.  As many of you know, our living room is the permanent home of a disco ball (and we love to bust out the crazy flashing lights for a dance party).    

Today, we ventured into the Hard Rock Cafe for lunch.  Now, I generally try to avoid Americanized chain restaurants when traveling, but the restaurant was right beside us when my people were about to get terminal from hunger.  As a survival tactic, I took them in.  As soon as the girls heard (and felt) the pulsating music, their eyes got as huge as saucers and they were smiling from ear to ear.  They ate so slowly because they were transfixed on the gigantic movie screen that was playing an eclectic mix of music videos.  The girls loved wondering around and looking at all of the memorabilia.  Bella almost lost her mind because they had some items from Jimi Hendrix.  Scarlett loved getting behind the drum kit on the stage.  Her drum teacher, Rick, would have been VERY proud.

Nothing goes with rock and roll like high fashion.  What did you expect, sex and drugs - I am with my kids people!!!!!!  After swimming upstream through all of the weekend tourists, we made our way to the Gucci Museum.  And, I think I created a monster.  So some day down the road when Bella is asking for Gucci instead of Abercrombie and Fitch (which I will NEVER let her wear anyway), I will really only have myself to blame.  

I knew the girls would love the museum.  I could have stayed in the section on luggage and handbags all afternoon.  I am a firm believer that a girl should only buy high quality handbags.  I may now have to step up my game from lowly Coach to forever fabulous Gucci!  Bella was all about the scarves and casual dresses - she saw a dress from the 1970s about which she is still dreaming.  I am sure my mom owned thirty dresses very similar (but much less expensive) to this one - and with any luck there is still one hanging around in her closet.  Scarlett is all about the glitz and glamour, so she was very taken by the formal gowns.  This little girl is going to have high expectations for her prom gown!

After we went to the museum, Bella insisted that we head to the Gucci store (which again required swimming through tourists to reach).  While I wanted to snuggle up, pet and sniff the handbags, Bella was all business about getting to the clothing section.  I dodged a bullet because they didn't have a "kids" section in this particular store.  But, Bella was trying to convince me to let her try on anything in a ladies extra-small.  I wasn't sure how seriously Gucci took the "don't touch and please ask if you want to look at anything" philosophy that is a shopping gospel in Italy.  Every time Bella instinctively reached out to touch the clothes, I about karate chopped off her hand.  After the trauma of almost having her limbs lopped off by me, I seriously think Bella floated down the stairs of the store.  She was on cloud nine and drunk from exposure to the finer things in life.  

So tonight as the girls lay down their heads on their pillows, instead of counting sheep Scarlett will be dreaming of playing her drums on the Hard Rock stage and Bella will be modeling all of Gucci's finest fashions from past to present.

Politics, Religion, and the Mafia

When visiting Italy, people are warned to avoid three topics when conversing with natives: politics, religion, and the mafia.   

I totally understand why politics should be off-limits in Italy.  One quickly realizes that Italy's political culture began many hundreds of years ago with back-room arm twisting and outright attempts to invade neighboring cities.  The recent political history of Italy included many of these same tactics and was a time of intense political flux.  Between the 1920s and mid-1940s, Italy's allegiances flip-flopped back and forth so many times it is hard to even keep track.  Italy was happy to be a pawn between the German block and the British/French/American block in hopes of gaining colonial conquests in neighboring Africa and the Middle East.  The rise of Mussolini continued to confuse the political landscape and may have begun the necessary culture of keeping your views to yourself as Mussolini notoriously eradicated political opponents.  The years after Mussolini involved internal conflict as Italy struggled with whether to continue to follow the monarchy or whether to establish a republican government.  So, it is likely Italy's recent political history that persuades natives to keep their political opinions to themselves and become uncomfortable when asked about their beliefs.  

Religion runs deep in Italy.  There is no arguing that Italy is the home of the Catholic religion as Saint Peter established the first Christian Church in Rome.  About 80% of Italians are Catholic, but only a third are considered to be active practitioners.  One Florintine told us that while everyone wears a cross, most consider it more of a fashion statement than a religious symbol.  In a country that is so deeply entrenched in religious history, it is easy to understand why people would be weary of discussing any beliefs that question the power or authority of Jesus, Mary or God.  Until 1948, Roman Catholicism was the official religion of Italy and nonbelievers were exiled or otherwise persecuted.  There is no true separation of Church and State in Italy and religious symbols are common in schools and government offices.  Italy is, however, a progressive state and allows for divorce and abortion.  The right to an abortion has been upheld by an overwhelming majority of the electorate in two referendum votes in recent history.  While Italians may have social views that are in conflict with the teachings of the Catholic Church, they are clearly not comfortable publicly discussing those views.

 The third, and final, taboo conversation topic is the mob.  I have gotten many questions about the reactions of Italians to the death of James Gandolfini, who played notorious mobster Tony Soprano on the hit television show.  His death got very little publicity in Italy, even though he died in Rome and was scheduled to attend a film festival in Sicily.  My sense is that Italians are smart to keep their mouths shut about the mob - no point in making yourself a target. My other sense is that the mob doesn't really play much of a role in Northern Italy where we are visiting.  However, in Southern Italy, particularly Sicily, the mob is still very active and has much influence in the runnings of the government.  There is currently a trial of former public officials garnering national attention in Italy.  These officials are accused of negotiating lighter criminal sentences and better jail conditions for mafia operatives in exchange for stoppage in car bombings by the mafia that killed many innocent people, including a baby and a judge's wife.  While Italian Americans may have a perception of mafia machismo and bravado, the killing power of the mafia is still very real in Southern Italy and people would be foolish to openly discuss mafia membership or crimes.

Work interrupting play

We have all had one of those days where work obligations prevent you from recreating.  Today was one of those days for me.  But, I am not complaining.  As you all know, I love what I do and feel really lucky to have landed at an organization that treats me like an adult (i.e. doesn't baby sit me or my work), allows me the flexibility to balance my work and personal life, and gives me the freedom to work on issues about which I feel very strongly.  That said, the rubber met the road this week and I have had to participate on a number of conference calls about issues that have been brewing for months and are finally coming to a head.

Italy is six hours ahead of the East Coast, so a 10 am meeting for my colleagues means a 4 pm meeting for me.  While they have the convenience of sitting in a room together, I have the upper-hand by being WIDE awake.  And, it is a good thing because listening to a conversation between a number of people who are in a room together is extremely challenging as they talk on top of each other, mumble and say things under their breath.  You also have to deal with communications challenges created by yourself or others working via conference call.  Yesterday, my first conference call ground to a screeching halt as one of my colleagues put us on call waiting and we had elevator music blasting over the conversation.  Because I work from home, the kids understand that a conference call means I am completely off limits.  So, unless someone is missing an appendage they shouldn't bother me because I am just going to wave them off.  

The one challenge I have been working around is our not so powerful wifi connection.  I am doing all of my conference calls via Skype, which means I need an internet connection.  The first conference call I participated on from Italy was terrible - I kept losing my connection and the sound quality was horrible.  I quickly realized that the kids were trying to occupy their time by watching You Tube (recall the make-up tutorials).  So, three people tapping into the wifi at the same time was technology overload for the system in our flat.  Now the girls know that if I am on a conference call, they can't use technology that requires a wifi connection.  

One of my work projects requires analysis of a technical paper and a quick turn around with comments on it to EPA.  I am responsible for drafting the comments on behalf of the organization for which I work.  But, I am also responsible for working with an incredibly talented southern gentleman to draft comments to be used by others in a coalition of which we are both members.  Many small nongovernmental organizations don't have the technical staff to review and comment upon these types of papers, so they rely on partner organizations that have the technical know how to help them out.  So, yesterday my colleague and I were trying to connect to discuss how to proceed with the "group" project.  The only time we could have a conversation that worked in both of our schedules ended up being at 10 pm my time.  I am notoriously a morning person, so 10 pm isn't my finest hour (particularly not after a few glasses of wine).  But, my colleague was very kind and offered to do the brunt of the work on this project with the expectation that I will return the favor when he is on vacation next month.  I think he was generally appalled that I was doing any work in the first place, let alone having a phone conversation with him at 10 pm.  

In this digital world, it is hard to ignore your work for any length of time.  Things move and change so quickly.  You have to stay on top of email communications or you are out of the loop when you return.  In my opinion, it is just easier to let work interrupt play for a few hours a day.  

You Tube and cigarettes

My children are living proof that kids eventually get sick of watching the same movies and videos after nineteen days.  We had loaded their devices with apps to watch the Disney Channel, the History Channel and some other favorite programs, but those apps unfortunately don't work outside of the United States - who knew!  Italian television was novel for about a week.  There are four channels equivalent to the Disney Channel, Disney Jr., Cartoon Network, and Nickelodeon.  The girls got a kick out of watching My Little Pony in Italian for a while, but once you have seen every possible episode at least ten times you almost want to drop-kick Twilight Sparkle.  

Beyond these four "safe channels" are a hodge podge of home shopping channels, news channels and soft core porn channels.  Nothing strikes more fear in me than seeing one of the girls grab the remote and start to channel toward the 50s, where the porn lives.  It only took one or two times of getting dangerously close to channel 49 for them to learn that those channels were completely off-limits because they are "inappropriate for little girls."    

Then, they discovered the glory of You Tube.  Now, I haven't let my guard down there either because You Tube can be a no-man's land of bad ideas and stupidity.  Most good adult content on you Tube starts with "hold my beer, now watch this . . .."  If you are lucky to find appropriate kid content, You Tube will pretty much keep feeding you more "similar" content.  The girls started their You Tube journey with more My Little Pony, but in English.  Then they progressed to Monster High - not my favorite but still generally positive messages in the shows.  You Tube must have suggested videos of a very young girl (Scarlett tells me she is 8 years old) doing make up tutorials so that you can look like the various Monster High characters.  Each of the kids have been watching these tutorials for about three  hours today as I needed to be on conference calls for work.  Now, this kid is good and seriously puts on makeup better than me, but that isn't saying much as I only own mascara and lip gloss.  It is clearly time to download some new books and movies care of very generous gift cards the girls received from a number of people before we left.  I have another set of conference calls tomorrow and I don't want to walk in on the girls practicing their best Tammy Faye Bakker faces!

While I have noticed that Italian women generally go "tutto naturale" with the makeup, they are killing their skin by chain smoking like freaking chimneys.  I expected to see a lot more people smoking here than back in the U.S., but it is alarming how young people start to smoke in Italy (and with the permission of their parents).  We were told by one of our guides that most Italians start smoking by the age of thirteen.  From what we have seen, that is not an exaggeration.  We have seen any number of kids with people who are presumably their parents and BOTH are smoking.  Scarlett went into great detail yesterday telling me about a person she saw drawing the cigarette smoke in through their nose and breathing it out through their mouth.  She compared them to a dragon, which I thought was a hysterical visual.

Another thing that I have noticed about smokers in Italy is that it is almost more fashionable to be holding a cigarette than to be actively smoking it.  As I have told you previously, the sidewalks are minuscule here and one is constantly dodging people.  I can't figure out how at least one of the three of us hasn't gotten branded by a cigarette yet.  I am reminded of my grandmother who we called Ninny.  She was the queen of the ten mile long ash on a cigarette that she was "supposedly" smoking - think of the crazy grandmother from 16 Candles and that pretty much sums up my Ninny.  I laugh so hard when I watch that movie; my grandmother once, much to my dismay, felt me up too.  I guess it is a little early to introduce the girls to 16 Candles, but I will have to put that on the watch list for future adventures when foreign language television no longer cuts it.  For now, let You Tube tutorials on make-up application reign.    

Tastes like salty chicken

There is nothing like swimming in the ocean, especially when the water is so clear you can see if anything is sneaking up on you.  Today we took a tour to Cinque Terre (pronounced Ch-ink-wa Terry).  While our tour guide was horrendous and should probably be in another profession (like one where you get to ignore the company you are keeping), the four-some of ladies with whom we traveled were fabulous (a Steelers fan, a Colorado gal, and two Montreal transplants who love Vermont - eh).  

We drove from Florence to La Spezia and took a short train ride into Manarola, one of the five towns that comprise the Cinque Terre.  The water was so beautiful it almost looked make-believe.  It was a perfectly clear blue-teal color.  The villages sit on a rocky cliff, so the water's edge is dotted with great rock formations off of which you can (carefully) dive and swim.  I got some amazing action shots of Bella jumping in the Mediterranean Sea from a rock jutty.  Scarlett was a little more hesitant about getting into the water because her personal lifeguard (i.e. me) didn't wear my bathing suit.  But, she dunked herself and took refreshment from the sweltering heat.  

Next, we took a water taxi to the village of Vernazza where we had a pasta and seafood feast at Gianni Franzi.  The restaurant is a conglomeration of huge beach umbrellas right on the water's edge, which was a welcome reprieve from the blaring sun.  I was "forced" to switch from my drink of choice, chianti, to the local white wines that are the only acceptable thing to pair with the local seafood.  Our first course of pasta was a pesto dish, and frankly the most amazing pesto I have ever eaten.  Apparently, they start by cooking green beans and small potato pieces, then add the pesto sauce and place it over thick  2-3 inch pasta twigs.  

Our next course was spaghetti with clams and mussels in white wine and olive oil.  Now, I love seafood, but I don't really dig clams, mussels or oysters.  But, when in Italy one must at least try everything that is served.  The shellfish had clearly been imbibing in the local white wine, so I figured it could only add to MY buzz.  Bella was adventurous and also tried the clams.  She proclaimed that they tasted like salty chicken - pretty spot on description from the budding food critic, who by the way didn't particularly care for the clams.  Scarlett was only brave enough to lick a clam but wouldn't stick it fully in her mouth.  

Next we were served stuffed mussels - a combination of mussels, cheese and tomatoes stuffed back into the shell.  I found this dish fairly palatable.  But, I had consumed a few more glasses of wine by the time it was served.  Bella also tried the stuffed mussels, again comparing it to salty chicken.  Our lunch was topped off with the dietary challenge of the day - sliced potatoes topped with anchovies and tomatoes.  This was definitely a close your eyes and chew moment.  I could tell the kids were looking at me to take the lead.  Shit!  Before I could let the alcohol-induced fog clear, I cut off a piece and shoved it in my mouth.  It wasn't terrible, but not really my favorite.  Bella, on the other hand, really liked it.  Again, it was salty, but the potatoes and tomatoes did a good job at disguising those furry little fishies.

After lunch, the girls took another quick dip in the Mediterranean Sea and we water taxied to Riomaggiore.  We grabbed a gelato there and let me tell you that it couldn't compare to the gelateria in our hood.  We are La Carraia loyal.  Because of the huge meal, mass quantity of alcohol and suffocating heat, I ended up throwing my gelato in the trash.  

Avoiding tchotchke hell

If you have ever been inside my house, you will notice that there isn't a lot of extra stuff.  I don't have rooms that you can't walk into, I don't have furniture that you can't put your feet on, and I don't have a curio cabinet.  To put it bluntly, I hate tchotchkes.  I just can't stand useless stuff.  I guess I am too pragmatic.  Now, don't get me wrong, I love photographs and art on the walls.  I just can't stand stuff that sits around and collects dust (or could get broken by a kid playing or a wagging dog tail).

Avoiding tchotchke hell is even harder with young children.  The paraphernalia of Easter baskets and Christmas stockings is regarded as a treasure, but finds itself stuffed in a drawer with a hundred other items that no longer grab their attention in the moment.  Now, my kids are pretty well trained to not request grocery store checkout isle items (unless it is gum).  But, they often lose themselves in the tchotchke hell of a circus, Disney event, or toy store.  Walking through these "choice overload" areas proved so stressful for Bella when she was younger that we have gotten pretty good at distracting her from them or just avoiding them altogether (thank goodness).  And, Scarlett is so easy-going that she doesn't mind not getting a "thing" and is happy to just be with her people.  

Living in a city that caters to tourists means being constantly surrounded by tchotchkes and the people who push them.  The first few days, I just had to give the kids the freedom to roam the vendor stands in the many open air markets.  They quickly realized that the vendors all sold pretty much the same things.  Because we are here for so long, I did't feel rushed to purchase mementos for the kids.  I told them that if they were still interested in something in a few weeks, we would consider buying it.

Now that we are into our third week in Florence, the kids and I have both gotten a sense of what they are drawn to and what they would enjoy as a keepsake from their trip to Italy.  Now, I love getting a piece of nice jewelry when I travel to a new and exotic place.  Every time I wear those fun pieces of jewelry, I am reminded of my travels and the experiences of that journey.  So, as we have walked over the Ponte Vecchio countless times we have window shopped at all of the tiny jewelry stores that sell gold.  The gold shops on the Ponte Vecchio are deeply rooted in the history of Florence and date back to the time of the Medici family.  The bridge was originally occupied by butchers and fish vendors.  However, as the Medici family walked the passage between city hall and their Pitti Palace, they were repulsed by the smell of the discarded scraps from these vendors' stalls.  So, the Medici family uprooted the butchers and meat vendors and moved them to an alternate location.  They then congregated the goldsmiths to the shops along the Ponte Vecchio.  This afternoon I bought each of the girls a small pair of gold hoop earrings from a Ponte Vecchio goldsmith.  These timeless keepsakes are a meaningful token of our time in Florence and really embrace the history of the city.  

So, as we arrive home from Italy we will not be bringing gobs of "stuff" with us. In addition to not having a bunch of tchotchkes for ourselves, we will not have a "throw away" gift for everyone that we love.  Please don't be offended.  Know that instead of shopping our way through Tuscany, we have instead filled our minds with images of the many masterpieces, our bellies with delicious food and wine, and our hearts with love for a land that is new to us.  In addition to saving myself from tchotchke hell, I am kind of saving you from it too!

Man-kinis, mosquitos, and city dogs

Man-kinis are the great equalizer at a public pool.  The man-kini forces men to just put it all out there and be proud of their package.  American men do little more than wear tight shirts to show off their pecks and biceps.  While Popeye arms are nice, women deserve a little something more that makes their eyes pop!  In a sense, the man-kini is an equalizer because it forces men to bare it all and leaves nothing to the imagination.  European men aren't afraid of sexuality and are proud of their bodies.  And for that, I thank them!  It made my afternoon at the pool a little more exciting.

Women's bathing suits have left little to the imagination since about the 1960s.  But, European women's bathing suits are a whole other ball game!  As most of you know, I grew up around water.  Summers were spent living in a bathing suit at Lake Raystown.  Because we were active swimmers, I came to love the Speedo type suits (they don't fall off when tubing or water-skiing).  Even my years as a lifeguard were spent in a one piece.  The girls have (thankfully) taken to my style and both are more comfortable in a Speedo than a bikini.  So, today we were the only three people at a pool filled with hundreds in one-piece bathing suits.  Women of all shapes and sizes were sporting the two pieces.  The more daring style for women's bottoms were of the half-thong variety - Scarlett said it looked like people had a wedgie.  There were also a number of topless little ladies running around - so we saw some baby boobies too!

We made a number of other observations at the pool today.  We noticed that everyone between twenty-five and forty has at least three tattoos.  Now, Tom and I both have a tattoo so that isn't necessarily a bad thing in my eyes.  But, Italians like their ink and it isn't uncommon to see someone with full sleeves.  If I was a tattoo artist, I would definitely move to Italy because you could make a mint here.  Scarlett also noticed that everyone had darker skin and dark hair.  I was definitely the only red-head and freckle face in town.

The danger of putting yourself in a bathing suit is exposing your body to consumption by mosquitos.  If you have traveled to Florence in the summer, you know that the mosquitos are stealth and will eat you alive.  Poor Scarlett, who isn't really bothered by them at home, has been a blood donor for the past week.  She seriously looks like she is suffering from chicken pox because of all of the mosquito bites on her body.  A complicating factor to all of this is that windows do not have screens in Italy.  You welcome the outdoors into your home when you open your windows, and that includes all of the little flying things too.  Air conditioning isn't commonplace in Italy, and we are fortunate to have it in our flat.  But, the weather has been so comfortable that we are just suffering through the mosquito attacks and keeping the windows open.

Another little sting to our heart has been the realization that city dogs just don't care about strangers and walk right past us.  It is no small secret that the Zarcones love dogs (that is a HUGE understatement).  And, we miss our dogs terribly.  We thought we would be friends with every dog in the hood by now.  But, city dogs are so desensitized to the hustle and bustle of daily life they don't even notice our puppy-dog eyes adoring them and begging to pet their heads and kiss their wet noses.  Our saving grace has been the daily FaceTime sessions with Tom where we spend more time making him walk around the house so that we can talk to each of the dogs than we do talking with him.  I don't think he minds too much because he says that our expressions (and simultaneous outbursts of "awwww") when we see the dogs are hysterical.  There is nothing like a tail thump and perked up ears from our fluffy friends.  Scarlett keeps saying that she misses the feeling of Star's fur and hopes she doesn't forget what it feels like until we get home.  Bella is also missing her nightly snuggle sessions with Ferb, who sleeps with her and provides much comfort.  I just miss them all - every dog has some special moment that we always share during the day.  Some are more pushy with their desire for affection and some just like to be in my presence.  But, I love them all and can't wait to get licked all over when I walk in the door.  

Let the beatings begin!

As I was planning this trip, I tried to find a soccer game for us to attend so Bella could get an authentic taste for how nutty Europeans are for the game.  Unfortunately, the season for the professional teams ended in May.  But, I happened on information about Calcio Storico - a historic round robin soccer tournament played in Florence between the four main neighborhoods.  As it happens, the tournament is while we are in town.  It looked a little brutal from the You Tube clips that I watched, but our kids have seen enough hockey games to get behind a good brawl during a sporting event.  

Today was the first game in the tournament - Bianchi di Santo Spirito (our neighborhood team) versus Rossi di Santa Maria Novella.  And, I had no idea how this day was going to turn out.  Either I was going to be running from the stadium with two kids in tears from the crime scene they had just witnessed or the kids would be joining the riotous crowd and throwing molotov cocktails with the other fanatics.  Turns out my kids quite enjoy a brutal game with beatings, particularly Scarlett.

The first success of the day was that I had properly purchased our tickets and we were able to easily find the will call, our entrance gate, and our seats.  As some of you may recall, I had to use a website in all Italian (with no translation function) to buy the tickets.  I was extremely relieved to have the tickets in hand.  Our seats were great - basically center of the field four rows up from the action.  The difficulty was that people stood right by the security fence in front of the first row, so we had to stand on the bleachers to see anything (and I had to hold Scarlett as much as possible to give her a better vantage point).  

While the game was only fifty minutes, this "historical" match had a pre-game performance that include drummers, flag bearers/throwers, military re-enactors, mounted cavalry, clergy, and some sort of oxen all dressed to the nines in historical garb.  While everyone loves a parade, we were anxious to get to the beatings.  Each team fields twenty-seven players and there are no substitutions.  All fifty-four players are on the field at once with a running clock (no time outs, no stoppage for injury, etc).  The ball can be passed in pretty much any manner (though it mostly resembled rugby as opposed to soccer).  There are two end lines of which the entire length is the goal.  Teams change sides after a goal is scored.  A goal is one point and the team with the most points at the end of the game wins.  

We had been warned that the first fifteen minutes or so of the game are a total brawl.  I wasn't too sure how much blood would be flying and was glad to learn that in recent years they have added some "rules of civility" to the contact part of the game.  Basically, fights can only involve two people at a time and can last for as long as both parties can endure.  No sucker punches or kicks to the head, but head-butting, punching, clothes-lining, choking, and elbowing are allowed.  EMTs are on site (and on the field) to attend to anyone who gets severely injured - they actually spent a lot of time distributing water to the players.  

When the initial whistle sounded to start the game, it looked like twenty boxing matches were simultaneously occurring.  The offensive players pretty much hang back from the boxing action.  It honestly took us about ten minutes to figure out if there was even a ball on the field or if this was just the pre-game slug fest.  There was one extremely gigantic guy on the Rossi team who looked intent on using his striking power.  He proved to be a formidable opponent.  However, Bianchi had a few thugs too.  But, better yet, we had break away speed.  

While Bella was extremely interested in the strategy of each team, Scarlett was more excited by the gashed eyes and flying round house kicks.  I fear that she may be attracted to MMA fighters in the future.  The kids loved the excitement of the crowd - cheering and giving high fives when Bianchi scored.  There was honestly so much happening on the field at one time you didn't know where to look.  When the final whistle blew, Bianchi had secured the win with a 3-0 score over Rossi.  I wasn't sure if there was post-game pomp and circumstance too so we sort of hung around for a few minutes.  Fans from each team rushed the field and the number of people in the action tripled.  It looked obvious that the beatings were going to continue, so I quickly dragged the kids out the nearest exit gate for a quick getaway.  

Even though nothing about Calcio Storico resembled soccer, we all had a fun time.  It was a perfectly balanced train wreck - there were enough beatings and resulting blood to make it exciting, but not so much violence that you were repulsed or sickened.