Launched New Site Today

I did it. I bought RaisingExpats.com, and I launched my site.  Lots of new posts including "Fools Rush In" and new sections like photo stories and what is cooking in my kitchen. Please feel free to give me feedback on how I can improve the site,and feel free to comment directly on the site. Thanks

My Little Football Players

The children were incredibly happy to be staying at the cottage. They ran around outside when they pleased, and went to the soccer field to play.  Whenever Maggie was lucky enough to reach the ball before her brother, if she thought Maxi was getting too close, she would dive on top of it, and then Maxi would dive on top of her. I tried to explain to them that European football was not American football, and did not require tackling, but it never seemed to sink in, so I ended up buying Maggie her own soccer ball from a Tobacco shop in Acquapendente. She carried it around the city all day long like a favorite teddy bear, and when it was bedtime, she insisted on sleeping with it.

Toskana

Every time I visit a new place, I say “This is my favorite place in the world, we have to move here.” I don’t know why, but new places, new landscapes, new architecture, new people, new cuisines, when everything is new and unfamiliar, it excites me. And visiting Toskana, "Tuscany" had the exact same affect on me. I had already been completely charmed by the flat landscape surrounding Mirandola on the opposite side of the country, but the moment we drove into Tuscany, I was in enchanted. 

Everything you’ve ever heard about Tuscany landscape, it is absolutely true. The whole area looks like it was designed by a master gardener. If there is an opening into the Garden of Eden, I'd like to believe it is here. Rolling hills, meadows, vineyards, fruit trees, fig orchards, small stone towns with windy cobblestone roads on hill tops, each with its own private castle, and fountains in town squares, staircases winding around the towns and into the stone farms down below.  In every direction, there is a stunning view.

The cottage we stayed in is part of an agriturisimo, a former building on the farm that was used for storage and wine making, and it was later turned into small cottages to rent out to tourists. The family has owned the farm for a century now, and they have a private vineyard, from which they produce their own private family wine. It’s hard to believe that the cottage we stayed in was once just used for wine storage. It has high vaulted brick ceilings in the bedrooms, exposed wooden beams in the living room and kitchen. The floor is tiled with terracotta, and the windows have heavy, well preserved wooden shutters on them.

There is a large fireplace in the living room, and beautiful brick arches that show you where the walls didn’t used to be. The door still locks with a skeleton key. Underneath us, the family converted the winery into a lounge for it’s guests, full of large rustic wooden tables and benches. All around the house are various outdoor tables and shelters, as well as chairs and a soccer field complete with nets, in which the kids and I have spent hours playing.  It is still too early for mosquitoes. Lizards scurry around in and out of holes. The children ran around outside unsupervised without me worrying they would get hurt while I prepared dinner or did the dishes.

Vive L'Italia

I'd heard about the welcoming and hospitable nature of Italians, but nothing can quite prepare you for this, until you actually meet them.  By the end of my trip, I felt like I was visiting family or good friends, not like I was paying customer.

Half way to Tuscany, we stayed in Mirandola a sleepy little Italian town, with one restaurant, one bar, one geletteria, one church, and one boarded up cinema. An agriculture town, that is surrounded by berry farms, strawberry, blue berry and a third berry that I couldn’t quite figure out when talking to the locals.

The BnB that I stayed at was above the geletteria, and when I arrived, the matron, Antonella, was eagerly awaiting me, along with half the town’s inhabitants. We didn’t share a common language, as she only spoke Italian, and I don’t. However, her friend, Claudia’s son, Sanluca remembered a little English from his schools days, and he briefly served as Interpreter. After he left, Antonella and I used Google translator to communicate what we couldn‘t figure out between pantomime and expression.

Despite our lack of a common language, Antonella immediately welcomed me into her home. She gave the children gelato from her bar, and later that evening she, Claudia and Sanluca took us out to a local restaurant so we could experience cusini tipico. The restaurant was located in a converted barn on one of the berry farms. Antonella was incredibly hospitable, and made us feel so welcome despite our obvious lack of Italian.

No one spoke English, even Sanluca said he that he struggled with my American accent. In his memory, all 20 some years of it, we were the first Americans to ever visit their town. Not only was I a bit overwhelmed by how little Italian I know, but for the first time I realized how much German I actually do know. When I couldn’t figure out how to express something, my brain reverted to German instead of English. The children as well, tried to communicate in German, but despite a common language in their usual manor the children managed to charm the whole town. Maggie had Sanluca wrapped around her finger by the end, and Maxi had Antonella indulging him with sweeties, even spoon feeding him.

The next morning, the kids and I left for Tuscany, with a care package from Antonella complete with typical breakfast foods. The drive was much shorter this time, and the children were in a much better mood, after having had a full nights sleep above the geletteria.

I am blind, please help!

A post by Katya Barry www.katyabarry.com 

Hello Monday! As I was brainstorming about the topic of my post today, I was going through my files and I came across this article. It was sent to me by one of my coaching lecturers and I've no idea who had written it originally. As I was reading thought it, I felt so touched and inspired so I thought that Diana and her readers would appreciate this heart melting story. 

"A blind boy sat on the steps of a building with a hat by his feet.  He held up a sign which said: "I am blind, please help."  There were only a few coins in the hat.
     

A man was walking by.  He took a few coins from his pocket and dropped them into the hat.  He then took the sign, turned it around, and wrote some words.  He put the sign back so that everyone who walked by would see the new words. 

Soon the hat began to fill up.  A lot more people were giving money to the blind boy. That afternoon the man who had changed the sign came to see how things were.  The boy recognized his footsteps and asked, "Were you the one who changed my sign this morning?  What did you write?" The man said, "I only wrote the truth.  I said what you said but in a different way." I wrote: "Today is a beautiful day but I cannot see it" 

Both signs told people that the boy was blind.  But the first sign simply said the boy was blind.  The second sign told people that they were so lucky that they were not blind.  Should we be surprised that the second sign was more effective?
    

   

Moral of the Story:  
Be thankful for what you have..  Be creative.  Be innovative  Think differently and positively.. When life gives you a 100 reasons to cry, show life that you have 1,000 reasons to smile.  Face your past without regret. Handle your present with confidence.  Prepare for the future without fear.  Keep the faith and drop the fear.

The most beautiful thing is to see a person smiling…
And even more beautiful, is knowing that you are the reason behind it!!!

I wish you all a wonderful week ahead and let's not forget why we are all here. 

If this story inspires you, feel free to share it.

Diana, it's been a pleasure invading your space for a while:)

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