I had the feeling that if I stayed any longer at Vitebsk
I would find myself covered with moss and hair.
Marc Chagall, 1931
We trekked down from our mountains to Pisa, where we encountered history, culture, art, and a truly unique creative imagination. What a fantastic exhibition - I'll write more about that tomorrow. It was such a fun outing, and one that opened a million new doors, windows, and skylights in our minds!
(Orecchiette = "little ears", and I owe the title of this post to Jeremy)
We were very grateful to our neighbor when, over a month ago, he told us to help ourselves to as much broccoli as we wanted from his garden: he had over-planted, and had also got a spectacular yield this winter, which meant far too much broccoli for his family to eat. We only eat vegetables and fruit that are in season, and at this time of year broccoli (and cabbage) is what the land offers. However, we've never had so much broccoli in such a short time, and I ended up trying some experimental cooking to use it.
It wasn't always a huge hit. But we reached a new low the day I concocted a broccoli, garlic and haricot bean soup: that evening, as Rebecca sat down at the dinner table, she covered her nose with both hands and announced that there was a bad "garbage" smell in the kitchen. And since I was unwise enough to burst out laughing, the boys felt authorized to expand and embroider on Rebecca's comment, and ... well, suffice to say that I did not make broccoli and haricot bean soup again.
And so I went back to cooking our family's favorite broccoli dish: orecchiette con i broccoli, a traditional pasta dish from the southern Puglia region. Orecchiette ("little ears") are something of a specialty pasta, and after weeks of buying it, it occurred to me that I could simply make it myself. I often make tagliatelle and lasagne, rolling out and cutting the sheets of pasta with a little hand-cranked pasta machine, but I'd never made any other type of pasta before. I was surprised how easy (and inexpensive) it is.
All you need is regular and durum wheat flour, and some water. Here is a fairly good how-to guide in English (don't be intimidated by the initial statement that "it takes experience, ability and practice" - it doesn't!).
And, to be honest, once I got used to the idea that I could make pasta without a machine, I realized that what I most enjoyed about it was making it exclusively by hand, with no mechanical tools at all!
~ Exhibit 1 ~
Wild (boar) Thrifting : in baby carriage, up for adoption
~ Exhibit 3 ~
Fruitless (out of season?) Thrifting
~ Exhibit 3 ~
Honest to goodness Thrifting : the glass recycling bin, on our way back home. (Here's where I find some of my real thrifted treasures.)
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I was moved and honored to see the beautiful marine art that Natsumi drew (here), inspired by one of my necklaces.
Do you use olive oil? We do, in countless ways! In fact, it's one of the indispensable ingredients in our pantry. We use it on salads, we use it for cooking, we drizzle it on main dishes and vegetables, and we use it for dipping...
The silvery green of the leaves of olive trees is part of our landscape, and the oil pressed from the olives this time of year is a huge part of our culinary tradition. If you'd like to learn more about olive oil, I'm posting on Extra-virgin olive oil: Why pay more at the co-op today.
They look menacing, but their prickly, spiny burrs hide a great deal of goodness, which at this time of year we harvest in our woods. Today I'm posting over at the co-op about chestnuts and their role in traditional Italian cuisine here.
While we were away, we went to a workshop on the Italian artist Bruno Munari and his concept of fantasy, and how fantasy interrelates with invention, imagination and creativity (I already blogged about Munari here). Such interesting thoughts and energy there! So many things that I need to digest and think about, but here are just a few that I'd like to share with you.
Two fascinating things that emerged in the workshop were Munari's belief that the amount of fantasy people have correlates with the number of connections they can make between the things they've learned or experienced, and how creativity - which Munari says is the practical application of fantasy - requires training and practice in order to grow. In other words, the more cultural knowledge one can draw on and the more occasions one has to experiment and make connections within that knowledge, the more creative a person will become. Creativity, we were told during the workshop, will help an individual in two fundamental areas: problem solving and community life. This was the first time I'd ever heard creativity described as a positive social force, and was a concept that really, really spoke to me.
According to Munari, in fact, because creativity is continuously evolving, forming and transforming, a person whose creativity has been stimulated will be better able to grasp the essentials of a problem and to solve it. Also, creative people are constantly drawing ideas from their cultural environment and giving new ideas back, making them more pro-active members of their community.
Listening and discussing all of this - and so much more - was a good reminder of how crucial it is both to provide our children with a wide range of cultural stimuli, and to give them loads of occasions to play that will help them make connections between the things they've learned, thus developing their fantasy and creativity.
As part of the workshop, we discussed a few simple games and activities aimed at enhancing fantasy and creativity. These involved very few materials, because, once again, the emphasis was on cultural input and making connections, and not on an abundance of materials - another thing I really liked! When we got home, we immediately tried one of them. It involves tearing up scrap paper into randomly-shaped pieces, not the usual square or rectangular pieces with neat edges. You draw on these, and see what happens.
The boys were a little unsure at first, but once they started they found the novelty of drawing on odd-shaped pieces of paper quite addictive. What I found very interesting was that Nicholas made drawings that were inspired by the strange forms of his pieces of paper, whereas Jeremy seemed almost to be compensating for their irregular shapes.
What didn't surprise me at all, however, was to see Rebecca utterly refuse to take part in our drawing project, and stubbornly continue stringing her new pasta necklace, and even frowning at our unwillingness to stop drawing and join her in her stringing. (I've said it before: she is quite a determined little girl!)
I've added some of Bruno Munari books to my Amazon list in my right sidebar (unfortunately not many are translated into English), including his workshop books on drawing a tree and the sun. They are delightful books, with many different ideas, techniques and points of view.
For Italian speakers, this book by Munari is a gem, and is really worth reading.
Rebecca and I took a little trip and went to a fair of "Old Trades." The fair wasn't very inspiring, but as I was uploading my photos in the evening and reviewing the events of the day, I realized we'd had a wonderful day nonetheless. Not so much because of the setting - the beautiful village, luminous in the hot summer day, the green shutters closed to keep out the blinding sunlight, the gates and the walls covered with climbing plants like the purple, white and red bougainvillea. Mostly it was because me and my little girl had spent the day together, quietly touring around.
It really was quiet, too, especially for a toddler who liked to walk with me but also to run around among the stalls, and who'd often refuse to hold my hand (except when a dog was in sight). And so, in the evening, as the photos of our day flickered across my screen, I realized that the "quiet" is really me: I am quiet and relaxed with a toddler now (most of the times, at least). When I look back, I remember that when the boys were this age I often felt somewhat overwhelmed, and at that time I probably would have weighed carefully the benefits before venturing out on such a day trip with them. It was partly a matter of numbers, of course - two little boys a year and a half apart - but mainly it's my attitude that has changed, through experience and perhaps a better sense of what's essential and what's just not worth worrying about. There are most definitely some benefits that come with age!
As we drove back home, the pizzeria at the foot of our hill had just opened, the little lantern on the street a welcoming sign. So we stopped, and Rebecca and I shared a pizza: because one of the advantages of dining out with a toddler is that one pizza and one mineral water make a dinner for two. 
And when we got home we still had time to go through our new bed-time rituals, which nowadays involves one or two dollies, sometimes called "Niklas" and "Jememy."
Vintage images from the Museo Nazionale delle Paste Alimentari
"Listen, listen to the music of the cricket, its song is many centuries old...." With these words our puppeteer friend began the last dress rehearsal of his new play, to the music of one cricket playing in the background, which immediately captivated the attention of the children in the audience.
The new play of his theater company, Teatrino dell'Erba Matta, tells the story of Aladdin and the genie of the lamp, and how the spirit trapped inside was set free: the music centuries old that can free the emotions inside each of us, if we learn to listen. 
I hope my children will become adults who can listen to the music.
I'll be in France until tomorrow, so I'll be late visiting your music views!
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For more corner views:
jane, ladybug-zen, ian, bonnie, esti, sophie, cele, modsquad,caitlin, joyce, ani, kim, a day that is dessert, natsumi, epe, kaylovesvintage, trinsch, c.t., jeannette, outi, schanett, ritva, francesca, state of bliss, jennifer, dana, denise, cabrizette, bohemia girl, dianna, isabelle, amber, a girl in the yellow shoes, mister e, janis, kari, jgy, skymring, elizabeth, audrey, allison, lise, cate, mon, victoria, crescent moon, erin, otli, amy, ida, caroline, lisa, dorte, kimmie, la lune dans le ciel, nicola, malo, vanessa, britta, virgina, april, b, kyndale samantha, karen, kristina, dorit, goldensunfamily, sophie, janet, mcgillicutty, desiree, di, travelingmama, aimee, sunnymama, amanda, ali, jenell, guusje, britta, juanita, pamela, inna, daan, myrtille, cris, ibb, susi, jodi, lily, gillian, jeanette, athena, pienduzz, latisha, clairette, satsuki
Where the woods that surround our village now are, once was farmland. What remains are the ruins of terrace walls that the farmers built by hand, stone by stone, to eke a little flat land from the steep mountainsides. These drywall structures are now crumbling away; dense vegetation roots in them. The boys love exploring and hiking, more than ever this year as their permitted area of action has grown with their age. The other day we combined this interest with a little family excursion in search of lost ruins, further away than they are allowed to go into the woods by themselves.
It isn't difficult to spot the ruins of terraces. They are everywhere, tracing a way of life that is being abandoned. There is some sadness in witnessing this, but this way of life was also dense with real poverty and hardship: isolated terraced fields farmed with hand tools barely produced enough food for a family to live on, assuming the weather cooperated, pests and wild animals didn't damage the crops, the farmers stayed healthy, and so on.
We also abandoned the terrace walls as soon as we reached a stream: it was as if my kids had never seen or played with water before! But, they argued, it was a different kind of water, not salty sea water but cool fresh water. Cold, in fact - very cold - because it flowed down from the mountains. But no matter, the shoes came off and lots of fun was had.
Rebecca enjoyed herself so much that we had quite literally to drag her away. She'd passed her point of exhaustion, though, and was only too pleased to be carried back home by her Daddy, and to have a quick snooze on his shoulder. And I can remember many other excursions we took when the boys were little, that ended just the same way!
PS ~ Not the right kind of footgear. I wouldn't recommend delicate white sandals for exploring jungly wet woods! Now, why do I never seem to be wearing the right kind of shoes?!
Family life at the edge of an ancient rural community near the Mediterranean
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