One for Me...One for the Bucket

We are well into summer here in Fritzlar. The past few weeks have been hot and sunny which means the strawberries are ripe for the picking and that is exactly what we did. We filled up Dicke Ulla, our white VW caravan, and set out for the strawberry fields. Buckets in hand and bellies empty, we were ready for picking. One for me, one for the bucket, one for me, one for the bucket, one for me, two for me, one for the bucket…at the end I had 2.48 Euro worth of strawberries to take home to Dan and about the same value in my belly. Sun-kissed vine-ripened strawberries are the BEST!
Three days later, we were back at the fields and we picked even more. More for our bellies and more for the buckets. We were preparing for an Erdbeere Wochenende - everything strawberry the whole weekend. We ate them fresh, in shakes, on pancakes, in cakes, with pudding, on ice cream and even made strawberry ice cream. It was strawberry goodness for two and a half days.

Hallo Haiterbach!

Mom and Dad were off and an hour later we packed up 4 vans as a school and headed off to start our Studienreise. (Who’s been using the handy German-English dictionary at the end of the blog? Come on, use it!) Our first stop was in Haiterbach, a small German town about 6 hours south of Fritzlar where they make the best pretzels. We spent two nights with host a family which was really the best part of the whole weekend. Our host family was a young couple with a bubbly little 10 month old boy named Tim. They fed us well, they played with us (a great German game that I can’t remember the name of), showed us around the town and even showed us family pictures. It was really such a great experience being treating so well by people that do not even know you. They even grilled us beef steaks since they know we were mostly being fed pork at the bible school. How sweet!
On the Friday, we as students ran activities for the kids, young and old, at the church. Saturday was spent at the church learning about an “antiviolence” program run in the schools were we learnt a song that all of the bible school students will never forget. “I want to be your friend just a little bit more…” (To be sung with a Schwäbish-German accent) Sunday, the students led the whole service. Dan played his electric violin in the band and I helped out with the 3-6 year olds with Birte.

Nothing Bad about Bad Wildungen

Right after Dan finished up at a short day of classes, we took the short 20 minutes bus ride into Bad Wildungen. After seeing the beautiful gardens at Easter time with the Bruno and Erna Riske we thought it would be a good day trip with mom and dad.
So we began our walk around town, checked out a few stores and a bakery before we took another short bus ride to the Kurshaus where began our next journey. We walked the same route as with the Riske’s but then decided to keep going. Every small garden section was paired with something special…a large set of Glockenspiel, an over-sized kaleidoscope, funky chairs, a massive lip-shaped bedding box. But the fun began when we spotted a few playground toys. I won’t describe but I’m sure you can see how hard mom and I were laughing swinging in these chairs. Then we continued walking and then fun just kept on coming. We found a huge kid-free playground full of jumbo playing pieces. 2x4 foot dominos, chess pieces and 15 foot logs for pick up sticks. Again we laughed until we cried. This was SO much better than Rome.
After we wore out the big kid in each of us, we started back into town to hit up Lotus Blumen, the best little Chinese buffet in Hessen. On the way we saw a pair of swans with their little goslings waddling behind. Dad and I immediately had our cameras on them, snapping pictures and taking video. It was just so cute.
The rest of mom and dad’s time here was spent playing cards with other students, skyping with our favorite kids in Duncan, lots of walks and looking at Italy and cruise pictures and what seemed hours of footage. (Fun hey Dan?) We had a great visit with them and saw them off at the Wabern train station as they continued their adventure to Paris then to Manchester. See you in August Mom and Dad!

First Family Guests

After a week of getting back into schedule and cleaning up the house, our first family guests arrived. Mom and Dad. We met them at the Frankfurt airport and as mom SPRUNG out of the arrivals area tanned and boisterous, I knew the cruise had done them well. They were full of life and great stories. Again mom and I talked the whole train ride back to Fritzlar. It was like we hadn’t see each other for years yet it had only been 8 short days. For details about their cruise, ask them. They had an amazing time which was well deserved and LONG overdue.
Having mom and dad at our place was fun, after only an hour of being at our place, mom had literally taken over the whole living room with her “loot” from the cruise ports. Turkish hats, bowls and tea lay scattered across the floor, scarves, bracelets and postcards were spread out on the table and shirts, change purses and a ball cap from every port decked the couches. It was quite the site. As the clock continued to tick and Dan still had school the next morning, we all decided to call it a night. Tomorrow’s destination…Bad Wildungen.

Returning to Rome

Well it was short and sweet…and oh so savory and spicy and succulent…yummy. It was time for mom, dad and I to make the bus trip to Rome. I’ll make this entry short as I am not too interested in telling all the details of our Rome trip. I’ll just say this: usually people throw a coin into the Trevi Fountain to ensure they return to Rome, not take one out.
The pictures can tell the rest.

Angelina and Enrico's Farm

As the sun was starting to set, we arrived at Angelina and Enrico’s Farm. Once again I got to take a look at their thousand upon thousands of baby chicks. This was batch number two. Then, I got check out the rest of the animals that I didn’t get to see in the winter. They had hunting dogs, a MASSIVE swine, a few horses, more dogs, other chickens for laying eggs and so many cute puppies! We are definitely getting a puppy when we get back to Edmonton. (Right Dan? Yet another family member that does not read my blog. ) More importantly, I got to meet the rest of my cousins- Vicenzo, the eldest and the twins- Franko and Massimo. Then guess what…we ate again. We spent the rest of the evening and well into the next morning eating farm fresh roasted chicken, homemade salami, fresh pressed wine, home-baked goodies and yummy aperitifs. Italians know how to host. It’s got to be in the blood. At the end of the day, I was satisfied but was sad to say goodbye to newfound family. But I know it is not goodbye but arrivederci…see you soon.

Giovanni, Lucia, Carmine and Pietro’s Farm

With bellies full we drove to where my grandma grew up working on “the farm”. This farm, well part of it anyways, was owned by my great Nonno Giovanni. His farm stayed in the family and is now owned by my cousins named above as well as a good chunk of land surrounding Nonno Giovanni’s old farm. My grandma was delighted to see the farm stay in the family and more importantly to see her nephews working hard in the farm. Things are done a little differently from when she was a little girl, but the work is hard none the less. Pietro fired up the tractor fitted with a large holding grate on the back and ordered us all to load in. He was taking us down to see Nonno Giovanni’s old house. This is what I was waiting for. In the winter if you remember, it was too wet for us to walk down or drive down to go see it. Since the road is pretty rough and grandma wouldn’t be able to walk down, the brothers thought it would be good to drive grandma down in the tractor. Yeehaw!!! What a ride. Grandma had a chair as she was the guest of honor (which she loved!) and the rest of us just held on. It was so interesting to hear the stories of how things were done in the day, to see where they walked and to actually realize that they didn’t exaggerate when they said they used to walk an hour into town and on such rough terrain. As I saw the old vacant stone house, I could see how this could be such an emotion experience for my grandma. She used to live here, work here, she grew up here and now it’s no more. I took a lot of great pictures around the house and lots of grandma telling stories then once near the top of the farm again, I realized something was wrong with my camera. I lost it all…then I lost it. I was so choked and it was at that moment I was happy that my paparazzi Dad had taken SOOO many pictures. They weren’t my pictures but they would have to do.
We enjoyed the rest of the afternoon snacking on homemade cookies and beverages around a table full of family. I just loved it!
Another highlight: I saw yet another new animal on the farm, a snapping little turtle. Gian Vincenzo thought it was pretty cool too. "La tartaruga"

Canadians in Casacalenda

This morning we split up into cars and drove to Casacalenda. Mom and Dad drove along with Maria, Daniele and Gian Vincenzo while I stuck with Grandma, Zio Enzo and Zia Connie so I could record some more stories. (Those will be shared at another time) Our first stop was of course at the cemetery. This was a particularly emotional time for my grandma for as soon as she entered the cemetery gates and began to read the headstones, she was seeing the names of people she once knew here in Casacalenda. Most of the conversation was going on in Italian and I didn’t really feel it was appropriate to ask a bunch of questions nor for grandma to speak in English as she was mourning the loss of so many she used to know. I think it was hard for her as this just made her realize how much Casacalenda has changed since she was last there in 1974 never mind the last time she lived there. As she reached her parents resting place, the tears really began to flow and of course mom and I joined in one more time. When grandma was ready to leave we ran into someone else she once knew that was also coming to bring fresh flowers to a loved one’s grave. From that moment on, I knew it was going to be an emotional day for my grandma, running into old friends and even family, remembering the good times, the hard times and even the not so happy times. For me Casacalenda has only good memories, fun times and a sense of family and belonging, but for my grandma it is so much more.

After the visiting the cemetery, we headed into town to walk around. Grandma almost didn’t want to see more, I think she knew it wasn’t going to be easy. We walked to the bell tower and took pictures in front of were I thought my grandma grew up but I stood corrected as my grandma told me that she only lived there for a short while before she moved to Canada. She actually lived in a house right beside my grandpa’s house from the time she was born until her later teen years. As we walked to take pictures there, we ran into yet another familiar face, a cousin named Mimmo. So we stood there for an hour talking with him, taking more pictures and of course there was lots of story telling. Again most was in Italian but Maria did a good job of translating for us Canadians who didn’t understand what was being said. More tears were shed but best of all was the laughter, hugs and kisses shared by all.

By this time our bellies were grumbling (Can you imagine grumbling tummies in Italy??? It can’t be!) and Maria had arranged a special meal for us at La Quercia Agriturismo where my Auntie Lori and Uncle Tony went last summer. As we drove into the drive way, I grabbed my camera and was ready to snap some shots of the surroundings. It was spectacular. You could see all of Casacalenda from the driveway. It was postcard perfect. We enjoyed the view as the cook lit the large fit pit to make our lunch.

Round one…antipasto. A variety of meats, cheeses, breads and grilled eggplant which was “to die for” said Mom. A picture is better than a thousand words to here it is.
Ding Ding. Round two… pasta dish. Fettucini in a creamy truffle and asparagus sauce. Also “to die for”.

Round three…second pasta dish. That’s right a second plate of pasta. This time it was tossed in tomato sauce and sided with ricotta-filled crepes. Delish and now I’m full…but then what was the fire pit for?
Round FOUR…you have got to be kidding me. Roasted lamb, ribs and homemade sausage accompanied by salad and more bread. I think I am going to die. Mom did say it was to die for.

Round five…oh please the last round. Dolce! Out came the espresso, the cannelloni and peaches. Oh the memories of making these sweet pretty peaches. Mom and I made a pact that we would make these again sometime. I can’t wait!

And done. Phew!

Roaming Around

Grandma brought her walker along with her on the trip and it had to be the best thing for her. Once her hands hit the handles she’s off and she’s happy. We spent the rest of the afternoon roaming around the neighbourhood taking pictures of all the plants, fruits and vegetables that we don’t see in Canada. Grandma listed them all off by name along with a short story to go with each of them. Either what they did with them, how much BIGGER they used to be at her house/farm or how she tried and even sometimes succeeded in bringing them back to Canada with her.

After grandma wheeled herself back to the house, we packed back into Zio Enzo’s car and drove to his garden. It even more impressive in the spring as I thought it would be. Everything was in bloom and several even producing fruit already. It is amazing at what he does all by himself. The garden was beautiful and full of variety. Olives, peaches, mandarins, oranges, lettuce, tomatoes, beans, artichokes, strawberries, potatoes, cukes, zucchini…the list goes on and on and on. We spent the rest of the night around the table eating and washing up so we were ready to hit Casacalenda first thing in the morning.

Touring Termoli

Thismorning Zio Enzo dropped my parents and I off in old town Termoli while grandma spent some bonding time with yet another younger sister. (My grandma is the oldest of 11.) We didn’t even want 5 meters and we stopped at a little pizzeria at 9:30 am for pizza. Mom and dad were living it up. I passed on the pizza but ended up eating most of dad’s piece anyways. Very typical sustenance sharing in the DiLalla family. We spent the next 2 hours walking through the narrow roads while dad snapped a few hundred pictures. So this is what traveling with dad is like with a digital camera. “Turn around. Smile. Look at me.” All of the picture taking made dad hungry…or was that the lack of pizza? Anyways, dad stopped in a quaint little deli and bought us a Panini and a beer. 5 minutes later, dad returned to the deli and bought another. Termoli is a great city to visit as it’s not really renowned for anything but it is beautiful, on the ocean and because of its unrecognized charm, a heavenly havarti and prosciutto-packed Panini goes for less than 2 Euros.

After our tanks were full we continued walking looking for the perfect spot on the beach to catch some rays. We then spent the next 2 hours splashing around in the Adriatic and soaking in the sun. It was very relaxing. We managed to peel ourselves off of the seaside and headed back to home base where simply delicious fettucini awaited us. Italian cuisine will ALWAYS be my favorite.

234 Kisses

Laura (L-ow-rra) Look another stazione!

Did you know that there are almost 20 train stations between the Torino Puorto Nuova and the Termoli train stations? Well there are. My grandma asked me to take a picture at every stop, so I did as the good little granddaughter that I am. J She spend the first 30 minutes or so just starring out the window and I wished for a moment that I could read her thoughts, to know how she was really feeling. She looked sad, deep in thought but I know she was also happy to be where she was- in her motherland, speaking in her mother tongue. The whole trip my grandma floated between Italian and English without even noticing it. The funny thing is that she would speak English to her non-English speaking family and Italian to my mom and me.

Less than an hour into our journey, my dad and grandma began to drift into and out of consciousness (mostly in) while my mom and I used the entire 9 hour train ride doing what we do best…talk. It was so nice to catch up, to eat (what is it with traveling and needing to eat?), to laugh (sometimes too loud and to the point of tears) and to just be together.

As we reached the Termoli Stazione, the waterworks started up again but this time only for my grandma. I could only be happy having the whole DiGenova clang (minus Zia Connie who was of course preparing a feast for us) there to pick us up. Again, kisses were shared all around. 38 altogether by the time the 4 of us double-check kissed each of our relatives. I just love the Italian culture!

Not to my surprise Zia Connie greeting us sporting her Canada apron, the table was fully extended and Angelina and Enrico were already there. 16 more kisses. Half way through the feast, the three brothers, Giovanni, Carmine and Pietro showed up. 24 more kisses. Spread the love! The night was spent eating, looking at pictures, story-telling (exaggerating), laughing, hand gesturing, speaking loudly and translating. When clock struck midnight 156 kisses were passed around and we headed to bed.

On the Road Again

Correction…On the Tracks Again. Today I started my 25 hour train journey to Termoli. Two hours from Wabern to Frankfurt and then my first sleeper train from Frankfurt to Milano. I was a little leery of traveling by myself but know that I would be sharing a cabin with ladies only calmed my nerves as well as knowing that people I loved were praying for me. “Squillos” from Patti let me know that she was thinking of me. As I boarded the train, a tall friendly black man showed me to my cabin. Two beds down but only one water bottle. I was on my own. There’s nothing like paying to sleep in a cabin of 4 and to have it all to oneself. I was surprised at the cleanliness, comfort and class of the cabin. It was like a mini hotel room minus the private toilet. The pictures will show the rest. I was happy that we decided to splurge on a sleeper cabin and that I didn’t have to sleep in a chair seeing that I was on my own and that I would be traveling for a 25 hour period. To my surprise, at 5:30 am, I was awoken by a light tap on the door, fresh coffee and breakfast. “Nein danke, I don’t want to buy anything.” I had packed granola and an apple. The reply: “There’s no charge. Breakfast is included.” This train rocks! Free breakfast! Lunch- granola and an apple.

During the next 2 hour train ride, I listened to my first audio book and I’m hooked. Childhood memories of being read to came back. One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish, old fish, new fish… There’s just something about sitting in your dad’s lap being read to. Although Joyce Meyers, “Battle of the Mind” is a completely different style of book and I was certainly not sitting in my dad’s lap, it was comforting nonetheless. My “reading” was interrupted by an important announcement: Arresto seguente Torino Puorta Nuova. That’s my stop! I excitedly stuffed my iPod in my over-packed Canadian flag-bearing backpack and headed to the exit. Finally, I would be realizing the little girl’s dream inside of me- being in Italy with my Grandma. Minutes later, I was greeted with kisses from my mom, dad, grandma and of course Zio Mimmo and Zia Teresa. It was SO good to together. We picked up a few espressos and sat in a café while we waited for our train to Termoli. That’s right, so far I had only traveled 16 hours, 9 more to go. Grandma spend her last few hours with her youngest sibling Teresa reminiscing about the “old days” not necessarily the time they spent together since Teresa was only a baby when my grandma to Canada. As we boarded the train after more hugs and kisses, the tear ducts starting working in overdrive. First my grandma, then Teresa, followed by my mom and finally me. The men help themselves together but we all know Italian men are softies at heart, even those super macho Italian stallions. The reality is my grandma will probably never see her little sister again. Sad. The thought of having to say goodbye to my brother for the last time in person was all it took for me to not be able to control my ducts. It was a lost cost. I did my best to capture the moment through tear filled eyes. This trip was already worth the 16 hour train trip. I was sure that the next 9 hours to Termoli would also be more than worth it.

Mom wasn’t too impressed with having to pay to use the washroom especially at 80 EURO cents a pop (or should I say poop or pee?). So we used a traveling tourist tip: Line up one close behind the other, pay and push through. 40 cents a pee isn’t so bad.

Experience of a Lifetime…Once in a Lifetime?

So the day came where all of Dan’s training would pay off…Marathon Day! Dan woke up early to a beautifully sunny Dan and I’m sure the butterflies were flying just as fast in my stomach as in his. As his biggest fan, I too was feeling the excitement, the nervousness and the anticipation. After having his completed his morning routine and all was packed up, Dan and I along with three of our good friends, Enzo, Patti and Chrissi hopped into the CB-F bus and made our way to Kassel.

The roads were packed with people warming up as we entered the city of Kassel. The excitement was already building. After a time of prayer, we headed to the start line with breakfast, snacks and sunscreen in hand to find the perfect place to cheer Dan on. You can see that we had a nice little set up where we could enjoy a nice breakfast and even play a few games while we waited for Dan to make his first round. As the countdown hit zero thousands of red heart-shaped helium balloons were released into the sky and the runners were off! It wasn’t until about 4 minutes that we saw Dan run by as there were so many runners. It was such a great experience cheering on all of the runners. You could tell they were very thankful that we were there to support them, even though we were really only there for Dan, we cheered on every runner as they passed by.

Dan, as the proud Canadian he is, dressed in red and white and even sported a few Canadian stickers that were sent my Mark and Shelley. (Thanks guys!) On one arm was written “Phil 4:13” a reminder to Dan that he can do all things with God’s strength and on the other were his times so he could keep track of his pace. I also had a copy of his times so I had a better idea of when he would be running by and I could be ready with camera in hand. Dan has always been very punctual so I was not the least surprised when Dan ran by a few minutes earlier than expected.

Dan’s “Fabulous Four Fans”, we packed our things up and made our way to the finish line to encourage Dan in the last meters of his 42 km race. With noise makers and jumbo blue blow-up hands we cheered on the marathoners as they strived to pace the finish line. “ Ich seh ihm! Go Dan!” Dan was in sight and we screamed and yelled as he passed the finish line at three hours, fifty-four minutes and seventeen seconds. Dan’s goal was under just under 4 hours so he was very happy with his result.

As most crazy fans do, I ran passed the red tape and jumped the fence to go congratulate my hubby. I found Dan through the mass of people sitting on a bench drinking some water. “Way to go babe.” Snap. Snap. After victory pictures. But Dan was not really smiling. He was happy to be done. He was tired. He actually didn’t look that great. He looked flushed. After about 15 minutes, Dan decided that he better get checked out as he was feeling nauseous so off we went to the Red Cross tent. Only 5 minutes later, he was hooked up to an IV. I guess the 29 degree weather along with the continuous 4 hours of running sucked out a little more fluids than desirable. Dan thought he had enough to drink along the way but he didn’t quite get enough. He was dehydrated. After getting one liter of fluids replenished, the Red Cross team was beginning to pack up. So I thought we would be off too but not to the hospital! Dan’s blood pressure was really low (it normally is) and the doctor on duty refused to let Dan go home and ordered him to go to the nearest hospital for more tests. So the medical fiasco of our life continues. Dan and I were loaded into an ambulance and arrived 20 minutes later at the hospital. Dan was taken in immediately, chest shaved and heart monitor probes attached all over his body. No reason to panic or worry. I couldn’t understand much of the medical lingo that was going on, mostly because it was in German. Right! As the natural worrywart that I am, I was a little anxious to know what was going on. Thankfully 7 hours and a bunch of tests later, Dan was released with the advice to check in with his family doctor the next day to make sure that his white cell count went back down. Dan recovered well and was back running on the following Wednesday. I’m very proud of his accomplishment.