Little Blessing in Suprise

SURPRISE!

So...we're having a baby. Well I am, because we aren't seahorses (Randy and I discussed this and I still determined that this is funny and many of you would know that male seahorses carry their baby).

As of today, the baby is 19 weeks along. I have many trips to comment on, and I will, but first I would like to give you some basic updates and stories. If you don't mind here are a few of my favorites:

True story…I lost the backing on my name tag. I noticed this because the point on the pin was scratching me. I thought “this is curious, where did the back go?” but I did not find it, so I moved on. I put another back on my name tag to prevent future scratches and went about my business. Later in the day my belly button hurt. And what did I find? You guessed it, the back of my name tag. O woe is me, my belly button is now a holder for lost items. What will I find next? The tv remote? A missing sock? Oh and I was ONLY THREE MONTHS PREGNANT! Can we wait to see what is in store for me when I actually grow rotund (please see jaba the hut)?

Now I can't button two of my abu buttons! Well I could button one more, but that feels terrible so here I sit with my pants basically undone...

Funniest moment. My mom took my sister and me to an impromptu ultrasound. The doctor was excellent and took so many great pictures of the baby. In one, the baby is scrubbing her eyes, in the other she is waiving/flashing the west side gang side, in the last one…well that got a laugh. The doctor was going through the major anatomy, the heart, brain, spine, the ears…what…the ears you say? The doctor actually said “wow that baby has some ears on him” to which the room squealed in delight. In response, my jumping bean proceeded to do a shoulder roll shimmy. So not only did our little bundle have her Daddy’s adorable ears, she also dances just like him. Usually I dig Randy's moves, promise, but sometimes he dances like his lower body is frozen-and so did our little trinket. Just when you thought, “oh this baby is so like her dad,” you should know that after I accidently punched myself in the stomach (I was trying to catch a clock) the baby socked me right back! What sass. So there’s a little of mom and a little of dad. Awesome.

West Side, tough

So today we found out the baby's gender (were you waiting for this part). It was also the day I promoted to Captain. Honestly, the latter vastly overshadowed the former. My boss told me I could pick what we did for my ceremony. I decided to use my small window of opportunity to get my office to participate in a gender presentation. They were amazing. I merely mentioned that I would like to do a gender reveal picture and a few of the paralegals came up with a sign idea and then they and the receptionist made signs while we had our appointment.

We are about to FIND OUT!

So after I was promoted, we had a little vote. My office had been guessing for a while and they actually got pretty into it.

Its a little fuzzy but here's how they voted. Randy thought it was a boy because he had a dream a few weeks ago. I thought it was a girl because I just did.

And Oops, I guessed it. She's a girl!

WE ARE HAVING A GIRL! I know its a 50/50 shot but I pretty much knew she was a little princess since I got pregnant. We are very excited and every time I talk about it I pretty much tear up. Yay!

Other Things I have cried about this week:
Glee High School Graduation
Carly Ray Jensen, Call Me Maybe (I guess I just really like this song)
Randy lost the car keys
I saw a picture of my brothers

But this was definately the best one.

Just wanted to share some moments

The word of the post is chiave, meaning key, as in "Oh where oh where is my chiave?"

The Collins

Us

 We quickly made friends with another couple new to Italy, the Collins, upon arriving in Italy.  So far we traveled to Barcelona and Austria with them and Eileen and I often make day trips while the boys are wasting the day with working. Well, one day a group of us traveled to all the new people’s new homes (not mine I don’t have one yet) and Eileen realized she was missing her key. She went back through her day and came to the conclusion that her key was locked in their apartment and that it was the only perceivable way back into her apartment. Luckily, her husband, Whit, had left the windows to their apartment opened, because we decided that was our only other way in. We were able to collect ladders from various vendors, stack them up, and cajole poor Mikey (one of the group and a real trooper) up into the window of the apartment. I tried to reassure the locals that everything would be fine, but honestly I could barely watch as Mikey scaled the two stories on precariously placed ladders. After he realized the balcony door was not open, Mikey found success through a window. It turns out, however, Eileen did not leave her keys in the apartment…

Eileen accompanied me on a trip to look at a potential rental house. We waited at a meeting spot in this little quaint town, which was pretty far from my goal location. When the lady, let’s call her Cindy, did not appear, I called her home phone. Her husband answered and because we only shared the common language of Italian, it took some time to get across that I needed his wife’s cell phone number. I finally communicated with Cindy and we decided that we should meet at the rental home’s address.  I pulled onto the street and waited for about 15 minutes when Cindy called and asked where I was. I told her “at the house.” She then said she was also at the house. This was perplexing as we did not see each other. I confirmed the address and she answered “why are you at my house?” Apparently I put in her real estate address (which was her actual home) and not the rental address. I had also backed into the driveway. I could not have looked creepier if I tried. Luckily, this was not the house for me.

Nothing to do with the story but I wanted to share-Toga Party!

Murano and Burano

Word of the post is vaporetti, meaning water taxi; as in “The vaporetti was cool for the first 20 minutes but that last 20 it was just cold.”

Off the City of Venice there are several small islands. My friends Eileen, Kimberly and I traveled to two of them. The island of Murano is only about 1.5 Km away from Venice, while Burano is about 7 km. We took the train from Sacile to Venice. Before we started the journey to Murano we paused for Spritzers, which is a mid afternoon drink made of bitters, white wine, club soda, lemon and oranges-many people like them, I’m not a fan. Once we were fortified with Italian wine, we took a vaporetti to Murano.

Eileen enjoying a spritzer

Our view from the cafe and the vaporetti dock

I went on this trip mostly because I wanted something to do and also, because Kimberly was interested in buying Burano lace. It turns out that Murano is something to see and not just a bunch of overpriced glass. Vendors cover the city with not really shops, but instead galleries of their work. Murano glass making goes at least as far back as the 9^th century when glassmakers were sent to Murano from Venice as a way to protect their craft from the destructive Venetian Republic.

People I met in Aviano have a bowl or vase from Murano and that’s really all I associated it with. The Murano have items that vary from wine stoppers to intricate mirrors.  In the town squares there are giant sculptures that are large, detailed works of art. Mosaics decorate the outside of many of these shops so you feel like you are visiting museums rather than proprietorships. While you may have no intention of buying glass at that particular juncture, you are kept quite busy marveling at how somebody was able to make tiny glass grapes that are carefully adhered to a ginormous chandelier. So, I found that whether you are looking to buy a fancy bowl or just appreciate fine craftsmanship, Murano is a cool place to go.

The very colorful Burano is about 30 minutes on the vaporetti from Murano. The island’s homes stand out because each house sports a different vivid hue. I read that the houses were painted so vividly because the fishermen wanted to be able to recognize their homes from sea. Venetian lace was said to have started there after a seaman gave his lady seaweed as a token, she then wanted it replicated in threads. I was very excited to see Burano and its beautiful handcrafted lace. Various books warn against stuff manufactured in Japan, but I couldn’t tell what was what and so I bought some things from a cute Italian couple. I am forever thankful that I know numbers in Italian because that was all I needed in my attempts at bartering down the prices.

 

It turns out that it can take about an hour to an hour and a half by train to get to Venice, 10 minutes to take a vaporetti to get to Murano and another 30 to get Burano. Travel is exponentially longer when one is not driving, but it also a lot more noteworthy. Next time we will start out in the early morning because we left plenty of shops uncovered. At any event, I considered this a scouting mission and intend to do some serious damage once we have our house in order.

 

-Also noteworthy, I just realized that I wrote bowel instead of bowl throughout this, I am very pleased I caught that. And fixed.

Viva La Carnivale!

The word of the post is: litro/litre, meaning liter, as in “The more litre of wine I drink the better my Italian becomes…or is that the wine talking?

AVIANO

Randy and I moved to Italy just in time for Carnevale. During the first sleep deprived weeks I heard people mention Venice at its Carnival, but I didn’t really get it until Carnevale weekend.  We saw signs all over the place and were lucky to happen upon not one, but two, major Carnevale celebrations.

 

Each year many communities prepare for lent with a festival. We know this as Mardi Gras, but in Italy it is also Carnevale season. The actual word carnival is a derivative of a Latin word that means “Farewell, meat.” During the weeks preceding Lent Italians would use up their meat, butter, and eggs while partying before the season’s fasting began. 

This was the Norm

  Venice has a special tradition for Carnevale which began in 1162 in celebration of the Republic’s victory over Ulrico of Aquileia. Since then, Venice Carnevale centers in Piazza San Marco where the first festivity hosted bull and pig slaughtering for its people. Venice Carnevale is special because of its unique use of masks and costumes which began around 1268. Masks were worn as a social protest to the delineation in social statuses. The government restricted such identity coverage to only the Carnivale season.

We're not Partying...We're Protesting the Established Social Order

  Many of the cities in Northeast Italy celebrate their own Carnivale with a local festival and parade. We knew that our own Aviano had a little party, but we didn’t really think about it. We were just lucky enough to stumble upon it when we were walking the dogs. We heard some jamming music and saw a disproportionate number of Zorros, Princesses, and Spidermen (I have no idea why these three costumes seem to be the way to go here) and realized that today was Carnivale!

When in Rome, er...Aviano

Well, we cancelled our gym plans-we had good intentions-called up our good friends Kirby, Emily, and Lily and got our Carnivale on. We wandered into the city center and had hot wine and crispy, cinnamon things for less than 5 euro for all of us! (Except Lily, she’s 9 months) We saw dance numbers and tons of great costumes.

Sheep

Cross Dressers

 

They love them some Confetti

 The main event was by far the parade. We thought we had missed it because it was about two hours into the festival and we hadn’t seen one so far. We were about to pack it up and go find some caffes when we saw a parade of grand proportions coming from the distance. This wasn’t like a local school parade where the cheerleaders and band prance down the street. This parade had floats that were two stories high, mechanically operated, and surrounded by choreographed and costumed dancers. The dancers were both male and female and ranged from 7 years old to 97. Most had grim faces, but the most animated, and my favorite, was an older gentleman who had real star potential.

He wasn’t even doing the same dance as his compadres but it was his dedication to the task that made him sparkle. He never wavered in his physical celebration.  Mr. Dance Man was the embodiment of this time honored tradition with his glee and purposeful, if not coordinated, jaunty moves.

Confetti attack, They seem like cute kids but they'll get you...Right in the Face

VENICE

If this wasn’t enough, Randy and I and several friends traversed to Sacile the following day where we took the train to Venice. There we saw this beautiful ancient city juxtaposed with the ridiculousness of adults carrying on in full up costumes. In route to Piazza San Marco, where the festivity is centered, we stopped for hot wine. We also paused for lunch at a place that I presumed had a pirate theme. Our group came to that conclusion, because the “litre” of wine was poured from the scowling mouths of black beard and some lesser known grey bearded fellow. 

Two words: Fried Risotto

Though the city was gorged with dedicated celebrators, Randy and I were able to take in some of the beautiful architecture. We traveled through the very narrow corridors and walked along the waterways. We will definitely return and get the scoop on the history and culture when it’s less bustling. Next year we plan to be costumed. Who knows maybe we’ll go as spidermen.

Venice, Right off the Train

If you look closely you'll see glass shards-Old Fashioned Barb Wire

Piazza San Marco

On our way home on the train, my friend Perta and I met the favor of a drunken gentleman. He seemed nice enough, but he began to take pictures of us a few inches from our faces. I felt quite empowered because I had just learned some helpful new Italian phrases, specific to this very occasion. I clearly, if not completely eloquently, stated that he should stop it, and if not, I would call the police. Now maybe these statements weren’t actually the best two, but they were all I had at all relevant in my repertoire. He ignored me and continued to violate personal space boundaries. Right when I was about to get really agitated, he managed to say in broken English that he was Tunisian and did not speak any Italian (And clearly very little English). Well, at least I tried. Even though my Italian landed on somewhat “deaf’ ears, our husbands were able to communicate via body language that he should scram. He left because apparently he DID speak angry husbands. Viva la Carnivale!

Speaking of Creepy...

Italian Lessons

Word of the post is: imparando; learning, as in “I’m imparando Italian and wish for you to give me a break.”

We’ve been in Aviano 3 weeks and I’m a tiny bit closer to assimilation. Not that we blend in, I think the locals can spot us from a mile away; at least until someone tries to speak to me in rapid fire Italian. The good thing is, a few second later, they are very well aware that I am in fact American. Randy and I may have found “the house.” The problem is, however, that the home is not available until Mid May. Randy and I (if I may, mostly me) are searching for a two month rental. Unfortunately for us, Italian law makes short term rentals basically unheard of. We’ll continue to persevere through the mess that is Italian real estate law, but until then we are residing at the Residence Posta.

I always considered myself relatively high maintenance, so it is with some pride that I live moderately satisfied in the Residence Posta. My positive attitude certainly is a product of the hotel’s position in Italy. While our “suite” does not have internet, a microwave, an oven, or a shower that stays hot for more than two minutes, the staff is great and the room is warm. 

A Night In-Soup's On

Also, it is steps away from down town Aviano. Randy and I are quickly making our way through the town’s restaurant circuit.

Austrian Food & Beer at Birreria Sacro Graal

Our Welcome to the 510th Pizza at El Mordisco

Oh hi Valentine's Day Pizza-Sicilian Style at Pogue Mahone's

Living amongst the people has given me the opportunity to practice my fledging Italian. Each time I have an interaction that results in any kind of two-way understanding, I take away an intense feeling of satisfaction and not a small amount of sweat.

Aviano

Sacile, Hopefully our Future Home

 In pursuit of the Italian language, Randy and I found a local language class in the Aviano library. We entered the library in search of the teacher Letizia. The women downstairs directed us (mostly with gestures) to a room upstairs. I opened the door to the room and found myself interrupting a large class with a small woman I presumed to be Letizia front and center. I about-faced myself out of there and ran down the stairs. Letizia followed me out and ushered Randy and I into the crowded classroom. I apologized for the distraction and tried to leave, but little Letizia forced Randy and I into chairs at the front of the classroom. Rather than hand me the form for classroom entrance, Letizia asked me for my information and filled it out herself. Ever the multi-tasker, Letizia interspersed her questions for me with questions in Italian to her multicultural students. I was still trying to minimize my distraction, so my answers were given in a weird semi whispery voice. Several red-faced minutes later Randy and I left the classroom.  

Nothing really to do with the story, but I think this picture's funny

Once we made it to the car, Randy gave me a very hard time about my awkward performance. The strangest thing about it was it barely bothered me at all. Randy was practically cringing during and after, while I left the place feeling happy that I signed up for Italian lessons. I just wanted to let you all to know that I think due to the amount of abuse taken, my awkwardness registers are severely broken.