smart car

I've been seeing a lot of these around town lately and finally had the wherewithal to get off my bike and take a quick snap of one. The ones here seem to be two-seaters, but I've actually ridden in the back seat of one in Italy. It was uncomfortable, but doable.

I've considered getting one. Club Monaco and the Smart Car banded together on some publicity push a few months ago (I know--I didn't get it either) and I was badgered into taking a test drive. It handled pretty well, actually. But I'd be nervous about my long daily drive to the office, where I encounter a lot of semis. Semi versus Smart Car = Smart Car pancake. I'm not sure about the lack of passenger space either, but on the other hand 95 percent of the time it's just me in the car. It'd be a nice second car, though. And it would be easy to park--although I'm not sure this would be legal here.

taking a seat wherever you are

Quite a while ago I somehow got subscribed to the Telegraph's newsletter for expats, which is odd since I am neither an expat or British. I don't like people subscribing me to these things without my permission--it's a huge breach of e-etiquette--but I kept this one for the essays on expat living. Today's relates to the theme of this blog, which is that you don't need to be in Paris or Rome to be happy.* To wit:

Everyone in the world has a routine, the same things to do by the end of the day or the week, but without realising that routine is in itself something to be enjoyed. From London to New York the commute to work is an opportunity to make new acquaintances, chat with the woman who has been sitting next to you every morning for the past two years, or smile at the children on their way to playschool, or simply enjoy the morning air. From New Delhi to Stockholm lunchtime is the perfect moment to try something new: a different restaurant, different company, or simply a walk in the park and a good book.

As one of my favorite bloggers in France has said,

The perfect place?

Is the space

in between
the past and the future,
the empty chair
that calls our
name,
Be here now.
one place
or another

we must take a seat
and
be happy
where we are.

"Be here now" was one of my mother's frequent mantras and I try to remember and obey it--but it's very difficult, especially when you are not particularly happy and would rather be somewhere else, physically and emotionally.


*Although I certainly think it can help!

bambini

OK, this post is really just an excuse to post some photos of my brand-new nephew. (Isn't he cute?) But it is true that Italians love the bambini. All these expat blogs I read talk about how the Italian neighbors warmed up to the weird foreigners once they had a baby. But that's pretty irksome: so if you don't want to have kids, you have to be the outsider straniera for the rest of your life, I guess. You're not someone until you have kids!

For being spoiled, though, Italian kids are pretty well-behaved. At least in public!

Seeing Italy in Chicago a little too literally

I once read an article in which a shepherd somewhere in the Middle East or North Africa suddenly spotted an old Roman coin in the earth. So when I lived in Rome, I always kept my eyes open when I was out in the country, much to my friend Rachel's amusement. "Are you looking for your coin?" she'd tease when she saw me scanning the ground.

I guess technically taking an old coin out of the country could be considered stealing a part of the country's cultural history--but nothing like the cache found at a bungalow in Berwyn a couple of years ago. After John Sisto died in 2007, his son knew he'd find a ton of artifacts at the house--and he did. Millions of dollars' worth, including things from the Vatican, ancient statues, and medieval manuscripts. They're finally on their way back to Italy, although some pieces whose provenance cannot be determined will be returned to Sisto's family.

Hmm, come to think of it, I do have a piece of old pottery that I found on the beach in Sicily . . . *

Read all about the treasure trove in Berwyn here.


*Lest you think I've become an international archeology thief, it's obviously contemporary.