• Contact
  • Elaborations
    • A Policeman’s View
    • Driving School Diary
    • Great Danes
    • IVA charged on Tassa Rifiuti
    • Nana
    • Old trains and Old weekends
    • The peasant, the virgin, the spring and the ikon
    • Will Someone Please, Please Take Me to Scotland??
  • Recipes
    • ‘Mbriulata
    • *Baked Barley and Mushroom Casserole*
    • *Captain’s Boston Baked Beans*
    • *Cherry Tart*
    • *Crimson Pie*
    • *Louise’s Birthday Cake*
    • *Melanzane alla Parmigiana* – Eggplant Parmesan
    • *Penne with Cabbage and Cream
    • *Pizzoccheri della Valtellina*
    • *Pumpkin Ice Cream*
    • *Risotto alla Bolognese*
    • *Rolled Stuffed Pork Roast* on the rotisserie
    • *Shrimp and Crayfish Tail Soup*
    • *Spezzatino di Vitello*
    • *Stuffed Grape Leaves*
    • *Swordfish with Salsa Cruda*
    • *Tagliarini with Porcini Mushrooms*
    • *Tagliatelli al Frutti di Mare*
    • *Tzatziki*
    • 10th Tee Apricot Bars
    • Adriana’s Fruit Torta
    • Artichoke Parmigiano Dip
    • Best Brownies in the World
    • Clafoutis
    • Cod the Way Sniven Likes It
    • Cold Cucumber Soup
    • Crispy Tortillas with Pork and Beans
    • Easy spring or summer pasta
    • Fagioli all’ucelleto
    • Fish in the Ligurian Style
    • Hilary’s Spicy Rain Forest Chop
    • Insalata Caprese
    • Kumquat and Cherry Upside Down Cake
    • Lasagna Al Forno con Sugo Rosato e Formaggi
    • Lemon Meringue Pie
    • Leo’s Bagna Cauda
    • Leo’s Mother’s Stuffed Eggs
    • Louis’s Apricot Chutney
    • Mom’s Sicilian Bruschetta
    • No-Knead Bread (almost)
    • Nonna Salamone’s Famous Christmas Cookies
    • Pan-fried Noodles, with Duck, Ginger, Garlic and Scallions
    • Pesto
    • Pesto
    • Pickle Relish
    • Poached Pears
    • Polenta Cuncia
    • Pumpkin Sformato with Fonduta and Frisee
    • Rustic Hearth Bread
    • Sicilian Salad
    • Soused Hog’s Face
    • Spotted Dick
    • Swedish Tea Wreaths
    • The Captain’s Salsa Cruda
    • Tomato Aspic
    • Vongerichten’s Spice-Rubbed Chicken with Kumquat-Lemongrass Dressing
    • Winter Squash or Pumpkin Gratin
    • Zucchini Raita

An Ex-Expatriate

~ and what she saw

An Ex-Expatriate

Category Archives: Arizona

Birds of a Feather

05 Monday Mar 2012

Posted by farfalle1 in Arizona, Photographs, Uncategorized

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

Bird Watching, Birding, Ramsay Canyon, San Pedro Riparian Conservation Area, Sierra Vista

Cartoon by Artanuk

Mam and I met each other over 35 years ago and have been great friends ever since.  We may not see each other as often as we did when we lived in the same little Connecticut town, but we’re always able to pick up where we left off, as if we’d seen each other only the day before.

I was delighted when Mam said she could come to Arizona for a week.  It’s been a year and a half since our last meeting, and we had much to catch up on.  Of course I wanted her to have a special time, so we planned many activities.

The thing about Mam is that she’s a birdwatcher.  It’s a hobby I’ve never cottoned too, being both too impatient and too poorly-sighted to make a success of it.  Oh look!  another little brown and yellow bird.  It must be a… God only knows what!

But putting aside fears of my limitations, we boldly charted a course for Sierra Vista, about three and a half hours southeast of where we live.  It’s an odd, meandering kind of town, not quite city, not quite town.  Incorporated only in 1956,we surmised it sprang to life around the big military base there, Fort Huachuca.  It has three main advantages: many places to stay overnight; many places to eat; proximity to many A-1 birding sights, including the two we visited.

First we went to San Pedro Riparian Conservation Area.  Here is what I saw:

But THIS is what Mam saw!

Oh well.

Undaunted we stumped off in the peculiar gait of birdwatchers: step, step, step, pause, cock head and listen, make slight swishing noise between teeth to encourage invisible bird, decide it was the wind we heard, step, step, step.

There was something strange going on with the light and the gray/white trees around the San Pedro River.  I haven’t fiddled with this picture at all, this really is what it looked like that day (better if you click on it to enlarge).

Not too far along in our walk we were both rewarded with a vermilion flycatcher.  Mam had seen one before, but as far as I know I never had, so it was quite exciting.  Well, it was quite interesting.  Well, it was very pretty.

Mam, however, continued to put me to shame.  When I saw this:

She saw this:

and when she continued to see this:

my attention was completely diverted by this:

The most humiliating of all was when we returned to our starting point.  While Mam got to glory in the sight of this:

all I got to see was this:

The next day, fed and rested, we took ourselves off to nearby Ramsay Canyon which is lovingly maintained by the Nature Conservancy.  The docents, Mr. and Mrs. Sandy, were informative and delightful.  It was a chilly, very windy day, and we were a bit early for the birds, both for the day and the season.   The much vaunted hummingbirds were still hanging out in warmer climes.  We also learned from Mr. and Mrs. S that a deadly trifecta of fire, flood and freezing temperatures the year before had reduced the food for the birds, and hence reduced the number of birds themselves.

As we step, step, stepped through the morning we heard more and more twittering in the forest around us.  Alas for us, there were also more and more visitors, which meant more noise and disruption along the trail and less opportunity to see the few birds that were there.  Mam did catch sight of one she’d never seen before, though: an orange crowned warbler.  I didn’t see that one.

Mam also saw the showy  acorn woodpecker:

“Oh look!” I countered:

“Isn’t that a robin??!”

We saw some big birds that look every bit as gorgeous in the woods as they do on the dinner table:

Even I could see this fellow!

As we headed back to the entrance we were entranced to see a pair of deer browsing in the undergrowth.

We might not have seen a great many birds at either birding ‘hot spot,’ but we had a wonderful time being a couple of old friends together enjoying walks in the outdoors in lovely weather.

And I got my revenge on Mam.  When I saw this:

and this:

she didn’t see anything at all, because she doesn’t like lizzards and ran away into the house!

Cluck!

11 Sunday Dec 2011

Posted by farfalle1 in Animals in the U.S., Arizona, Photographs, Uncategorized

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

Chicken coops, chickens, hens, Raising hens, Tour de Coops, Valley Permaculture Alliance

Chicken people are happy people.  My intrepid friend Mrs. H and I learned this when we went to downtown Phoenix last weekend for the third annual Tour de Coops. That’s right, downtown Phoenix! Urban agriculture is alive and well in the Valley of the Sun, in part due to the efforts of the Valley Permaculture Alliance, under whose auspices the Tour is sponsored.

Twenty-one generous chicken farmers opened their coops to several hundred visitors, all of whom probably asked the same tiresome questions. How many chickens do you have? (anywhere from three to a dozen or so); how old are your chickens? (anywhere from six months to eleven years); do you eat your chickens? (yes. no.);  how many eggs do you get a day? (in general about two eggs for every three chickens);  what are the names of your chickens? (way too many to list; some of my favorites were  Itchy, Lafawndut, St. Alfonso’s Pancake Breakfast, Waffles, Tika, Roti and Catchatori); is it really fun to have chickens in the back yard? (YES!)


The Tour was meticulously organized. Tourists registered at one of two starting points where they were given a muslin shopping bag containing water and chick feed (thank you Fresh Foods and Nutrena) and a thirty-two page directory of the Coops on the tour which was a model of clarity. Each coop location had its own page with a map indicating its location and a brief description of the coop and its inhabitants.

Mrs. H and I did not have time or energy (mostly energy) to visit all twenty-one coops, but were mightily impressed by the ones we did see. Coops come in all sizes and shapes, and are as diverse as the people who devise them. The first coop we visited was belonged to Maggie and Bjorn Olson. It was the only portable coop we saw:

The Van Slyke coop is renowned for its chandelier:

The Poulins pay homage to their roots in Vermont and New York with their barn-like coop:


As diverse as the Chicken People are, they all share an interest in sustainable living and in gardening (what else are you going to do with the chicken poop?). Whether on the ground or in raised beds, the veggies these families are growing are uniformly robust and appetizing.

But I digress. Let’s get back to the hens and their houses. Each coop we saw had several nesting boxes where the girls take turns laying their eggs. By the way, egg production is the impetus for a huge amount of self-congratulatory clucking. The Taylors were dealing with a broody hen in one of their boxes:


Every now and then a hen just decides that she must sit on her egg(s) and will peck at anyone who tries to remove them. Fortunately hens are not the smartest birds in the world, and a plastic egg or even a golf ball will satisfy a broody bird. (This is, in fact, the genesis of all those plastic eggs that children receive at Easter. They are hatched from other plastic eggs by broody hens. The chocolate inside them, as we all know, is from the bunnies. But again, I digress.)

Each coop has an integral yard outside the structure itself. Like all of us, hens like to move around and need a little space in which to do so. They like to take dirt, dust, or sawdust baths to clean themselves – they fluff around in the dirt, the what-ever-it-is they want to get rid of sticks to the dirt, and then they groom out the whole business from their feathers.

Most of the owners let their hens out to ‘free-range’ for at least part of the day. Depending on the neighborhood they may or may not need supervision. Watchful chicken parents are not worried about gangs or drugs; those close to the city worry about the peregrine falcons that now hunt from the tall buildings.

We saw quite a variety of chicken breeds. The most common were probably the Barred Rocks, the Ameraucana, and the Buff Orpingtons. At the Perry house we saw exotic and silly looking polish hens:

And at the Olesen house we admired a pair of turkeys. They turn blue when they’re upset or uneasy. Probably the combination of all the guests and the proximity to both Thanksgiving and Christmas ruffled their feathers.

I’d like to say a few more words about the organization of the Tour, because it really impressed us. Each house was identified by a large yellow chicken cut-out sign, which was very helpful as we drove down unknown streets hunting for house numbers.

Volunteers staffed a table in front of every house to check visitor bracelets and to ensure that every visitor stepped through the foot bath and used the hand sanitizer.

All the owners were on hand to talk about their hens, and many had posters describing the various chicken breeds present. Some of these posters were made by grown-ups, some by children, and at the Williams house the hens did all the work.


If you are interested in more photographs from the Tour de Coops, pop on over here and select the slide show option.

If you are interested in more information on the Valley Permaculture Alliance (“committed to promoting the conscious design of cultivated urban ecosystems to include diversity, stability and resilience”), visit their web-site here, where you can find out more about their mission and the many classes they offer in its service.

Shhhh

01 Monday Aug 2011

Posted by farfalle1 in American habits and customs, Arizona, Customs, Italian festas, Italian habits and customs, Italy, Uncategorized

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

How to Listen, Julian Treasure, Listening, Noise, Noise Pollution, Sound

The Captain always teases me by saying, “You know I never listen;” and I tease back by saying, “True.  We have the perfect arrangement for living in Italy – you speak and I listen.”  (He’s much better at speaking the language than I.)

While the captain may be teasing, it seems true to me that often people really don’t listen to others (I include myself in this group). The reasons are many – self-involvement, disinterest, hearing impairment, multi-tasking, language challenges, etc., etc.

The TED website recently put up a talk by sound specialist Julian Treasure which I found fascinating. He talks about why people don’t listen, and how we can all improve our listening skills.  It’s a short video, just over seven minutes – here, take a look.

https://ted.com/talks/view/id/1200

One of the things that has always struck me about Italy is the non-stop noise, at least where we live.  As I type this it’s 10:30 at night and there’s a festa down the street a way with live music – very loud live music.  Driving bass, banging drums and a songstress who is, alas, a bit flat.  It’s not my taste in music, to be honest, but I don’t really resent it being forced on us (at least not until after 11 p.m. – last night the live music went til midnight and I did get a bit cranky).  It happens only a few times a year up here. The amazing thing to me is that no one complains or seems to mind.

But if it’s not live music, there is always some other kind of aural stimulation – scooters and cycles tearing up and down the mountain; the bus slowly groaning its way up, merrily tootling its horn at every curve (a necessary precaution on these narrow roads) and then loudly sighing and chuffing at each stop; church bells from our village, from Montallegro and, if the wind is right, from the Rapallo Cathedral; ambulance and police sirens; cruise ship horns; airplanes overhead; dogs barking; cocks crowing at all hours; birds; children shouting (a particularly cheerful noise, that) and always, always conversation.  Conversation as an art form is alive and well in this courteous country.  Finding three minutes of silence daily, as recommended by Mr. Treasure (can that really be his name??) is a challenge here.  Every now and then one of us awakens at 3 or 4 a.m., and we are struck by the relative silence – it is such a rarity.

In contrast the U.S. seems much quieter in general (not the cities, to be sure).  The example the Captain likes to give is this:  when Italy won the World Cup (European football) in 2006 the racket from Rapallo was amazing – horns blasted, cars tore through the center of town with kids hanging out waving flags and shouting, ships in the harbor blew their horns – it was an explosion of celebratory sound.  In 2008 when the Arizona Cardinals (American football) won the game that sent them to the Super Bowl we stuck our heads outside right after the game.  Our Arizona neighborhood was as silent as a tomb, the town was silent; and we were a mere forty miles from the stadium where the game was played.  No one was out and about because anyone not at the game was surely inside watching it on TV – but afterwards there was no public demonstration of glee.  And if someone’s party is noisy in the U.S. it takes the neighbors no time at all to call the police and complain.

So, is it harder to listen in Italy, where there is so much more ambient noise?  Though the Captain might well disagree,  I don’t really think so.  But as we know, he doesn’t listen anyway…

Lizards Here and There

16 Monday May 2011

Posted by farfalle1 in Animals in Italy, Animals in the U.S., Arizona, Uncategorized

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

chuckwalla, lucertola, lucertole

Here in Italy we live with the sweetest and shyest little lizards, called ‘lucertole‘ (prounounced loo-chair’-toe-lay).  In fact, I just took one from our interior stairs and released him outside.  They look like this:


Of course in America everything must be Bigger – including the lizards.  These fellows, called chuckwallas, live in the rock pile outside our house in Arizona. They are absent in the winter, sleeping in their stony nests, but in the spring they come out to bask in the sun and engage in other typical spring behavior.


A poor photo, but the only one that shows rusty back patch


In all fairness, we see plenty of smaller lizards in Arizona, as well, most of them a dull brown and moving so fast it is impossible to get a photograph.  And, according to Wikipedia, most of the lizards are cousins to one another and share many traits. Like the lucertole, the chuckwallas are very shy and don’t let us get close with a camera.

The chuckwalla’s tail looks like we should be able to count the rings on it to determine his age, but I don’t think that’s true.  It also looks like it should unscrew and come off; it probably does come off, though we’ve never seen that.  The little lucertole frequently do lose their tails  It’s part of a defense mechanism when they are attacked by predators.  They can sharply contract a muscle which detaches the tail without loss of blood.  The predator thinks the still twitching tail is the animal; the lucertola stays very still until the predator has left with the tail.  The tail stops twitching after a time, but by then the rest of the lucertola has run away.  Every summer we have a whole sub-family of lucertole living around the house that are nick-named Stumpy.  Their tails do grow back, but never completely, which tends to leave them with an unfinished look.

There’s something about seeing a lizard, so prehistoric, timeless and ancient in appearance, that makes us feel humble, and maybe even a little smaller than the animals we are watching.

The Future of MLB

18 Monday Apr 2011

Posted by farfalle1 in American habits and customs, Arizona, Sports, Uncategorized

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Baseball, College baseball, Denver Christian School, Ephs, Spring training, Williams College Baseball


The Phoenix area is famously the site of much of baseball’s Spring Training.  Many teams, both Major and Minor, get the off-season kinks out in the Arizona sun, including the New York Yankees, the Cubs and White Sox of Chicago, the Cincinnati Reds, Cleveland Indians, Colorado Rockies… the list goes on and on, and if you’re interested in that list you can see it here.  The excitement is over for this year; the teams have left to take up the ardors of regular season play.

But wait!  It turns out professional baseball players aren’t the only ones who take advantage of this climate to get in some Spring training.  High school and college teams from all over the Northern part of the country come to the Gene Autry Park in Mesa to take part in a series of warm-up games, some of which count in their regular season of play.  There are two baseball fields in the park as well as other fields and amenities including a building with rest rooms and a concession stand.  Can’t have a baseball game without a hot dog close by.

The Captain stumbled on a college game one day when he went to the Park to while away a little time.  He saw Middlebury College playing Oberlin.  We were so excited!  Our friends Kate,  John, Charles and Angus live in Middlebury – it made them seem so close.  The Captain spoke to some of the fans, hoping to find a friend in common with our friends, but of course the stands were filled mostly with parents and girlfriends of the Middlebury players.

And that makes sense.  It turns out it is the parents who foot the bill for this spring break odyssey.  They hold fund-raisers during the year, but I have to imagine that mostly they just pay.  It would take a lot of bake sales to underwrite an eastern baseball team’s stay in the southwest.

I met the Captain a couple of days later to watch some ball.  That morning  featured two high school teams from Colorado.  It also, evidently, featured a most interesting pitcher, Chris by name.

He was so interesting that he was being followed around by a bunch of scouts.  No, not college scouts, as we initially thought; major league scouts.  Huh?  Don’t young baseball players go through the college system before turning pro, or is that just football?  I’m not enough of a sports-meister to know.

Here they all are, timing Chris’s pitches.  What makes him so interesting, evidently, is the fact that he can throw a ball at about 91 miles per hour.  The professional pitchers are in the 94-97 mph range, according to one of the scouts I spoke to.

A couple of days later I returned alone because the team from my beloved Williams College was scheduled to play.  Sure enough, there they were in all their understated glory.  (I grew up in Williamstown and later attended the College as part of the first experiment in co-education – that was an experience.)  It felt really great to be able to holler, “Go Ephs!” again – words that haven’t passed my lips in years (Williams teams are always ‘The Ephs’ after the founder of the college, Ephraim Williams). I was not the only fan present.

Williams College enjoys a fine reputation as a center of undergraduate learning; it is, perhaps, less lauded for its baseball teams.  How amusing it was to hear such sideline chatter as, “Jason, you have a really discerning eye!”  An unsuccessful batter returning to the bench looked more like someone worrying over a perplexing physics problem than a pissed-off athlete.  And perhaps he was.  Even though the scouts weren’t there to see the left-handed pitcher Steve, below, Williams was still enjoying a good week; they had already won 11 of their 13 games.

Pitching has always looked extremely uncomfortable to me – doesn’t it look like his arm is glued on backwards?

The future of Major League Baseball might be more Chris and less Steve, but the games in Mesa were all good fun. It’s such a pleasure to watch a good baseball game on a hot dusty day in a small park with just a few other fans.

Scorpio Rising

05 Saturday Mar 2011

Posted by farfalle1 in Animals in the U.S., Arizona, Desert, Italy, Liguria, Rapallo

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

Arachnids, Scorpions

Up my pant leg, that is…

Mother scorpion and babies, courtesy of phoenix.about.com

I went out to the garage to get something, and after a few minutes back in the house I felt a sharp sting – the unmistakable feeling of something small defending its territory in my trousers.  Ouch!

Pants quickly off and shaken, a teeny sandy, orangey scorpion trembled, terrified in the pile of the carpet.  It was literally a half inch long, or less.  Which is lucky for me.  There are many varieties of scorpion inhabiting the southwestern desert.  The Arizona Bark Scorpion, seen above, is venomous and can, in certain individuals, cause seizures.  My little guy was either a baby or an altogether different species; we didn’t keep him around long enough to ask him.  My heroic Captain whisked him away on a paper towel and set him free outside, where he belongs.  The sting site got a little red, a little puffy, and was off and on sore for the rest of the night, but by the next morning I had forgotten I’d been stung.

photo courtesy of dimackey.com

There are scorpions in Italy as well.  We frequently find small black ones in various parts of the house.  Sometimes they are dead and dessicated, sometimes they are quite lively.  For well over a year a little fellow lived under the baseboard next to Luciano‘s supper dish; we assume he came out at night to scarf down kitty scraps.  During the day he hid in the safety of his baseboard with only his larger claw partly visible, like a child who thinks he’s hiding because he can’t see you.  We got pretty fond of Blackie, especially after we checked with the vet and learned that in the off chance that he stung Luciano, there would not be any major trouble.  Little Blackie stayed with us even after Luciano was gone, and in memory of our funny cat I sometimes put down a crumb of something for his baseboard buddy to eat.  Then we had an infestation of ants, as sometimes happens in spring.  Without thinking we spread poison along the ant trail which happened to lead along Blackie’s baseboard.  That was the end of him.  We felt pretty bad about that.

So, are scorpions dangerous?  Clearly the Arizona Bark Scorpion can be, though Dr. Trisha McNair reports that of the 1,400 scorpion species worldwide, only about 25 have venom that can kill a person.  European scorpions in general are a nuisance at worst, their sting being like that of a bee or wasp.  There’s more on scorpions here from Dr. McNair.  But toxic or not, I can tell you from experience you don’t really want them crawling around in your pants!

Uppity Up Up

25 Friday Feb 2011

Posted by farfalle1 in Arizona, Sports, Travel, Uncategorized

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

Ballooning, Hot air balloons

Hot air ballooning is a big attraction in the Southwest. Probably the best known balloon event is the Albuquerque (New Mexico) International Balloon Fiesta, held in October each year. Among the zillions of scheduled events is a ‘mass ascension’ of hundreds of balloons, which must be quite something to see.

There’s ballooning activity here in Arizona as well, though it appears from the web sites I could find to be centered more around Phoenix proper , Scottsdale and Sedona rather than out to the east where we are.

I suspect the balloon we saw the other day belongs to an individual rather than one of the several tour companies that run balloon flights in the area.  We don’t often see balloons here, though part of the reason might be that flights generally take off at dawn and at dusk when the air is at its stillest.  We’re not usually looking out the window at dawn (ahem).

Our first glimpse, off to the east:

Getting closer and losing altitude:


About to land in the parking lot of a nearby shopping center:

It’s such a pretty sight, a hot air balloon; it gets one thinking adventurous thoughts.

The Captain and I went on a hot air balloon ride a number of years ago with the dashing Captain Bollard who dressed the part and served champagne.  I was terrified; the wicker basket you ride in comes up only to about your waist.  I spent the entire flight kneeling on the floor of the basket and peeking over the edge.  If I’d had a rosary you would’ve heard clicking beads a mile away.

Most of a balloon flight is calm, slow, gentle, graceful and still.  Until the captain decides it is time to gain some altitude.  Then he ignites a flame under the bottom hole of the balloon that makes a huge whooshing sound (the hot air fills the balloon above which is what makes it rise).  What a shock it was to hear that for the first time, and to be so close to a rather large open flame.  In a wicker basket.  Still, you see things from a completely new perspective when you look down from a balloon.  And since you’re not as high or moving as fast as you are in an airplane, you have time to look carefully at the scene slowly passing beneath you.  Sometimes you see a lot of faces staring up with their mouths open, which is quite satisfying.

One day about 15 years ago The Captain (not of balloons, by the way) and I were sitting on our terrace at our New England home having sundown drinks with friends.  We lived far out in the woods, and there were not many clear areas nearby other than the space in front of our house.  We watched a balloon in the distance grow larger and larger; in fact pretty soon it seemed immense – to the point that our 130-pound guard dog started quivering and soiled himself.  Yes, the same dog that kept delivery men rooted to their van seats in our driveway.  The balloon filled our sky and suddenly we realized that the pilot was looking for a place to land.  We also realized that he really had few options.  We knew who it was because there was only one balloonist for miles around (not Captain Bollard).  Sure enough, before long the balloon bounced along the field in front of our house, knocked over two sections of garden fence, took out a row of tomatoes and came to rest in our lettuce.  The sprightly 70+ year old pilot was all apologies, his comely companion, ever so much younger, was charming.  Drinks were offered, toasts drunk, the chase car appeared, and before we knew it balloon and balloonists were gone, as if it had all been something we imagined.

And that’s the thing about balloons, I think – they get the imagination going.  They’re romantic and slightly exotic; surely if you’re in a balloon, adventure cannot be far away!  So if you ever have a chance to have a balloon ride, I hope you’ll do it.  Even if you’re afraid – you can always kneel on the floor of the basket.


Picture Rocks Fire Department Rocks!

28 Sunday Feb 2010

Posted by farfalle1 in American habits and customs, Animals in the U.S., Arizona, Italian women, Uncategorized

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

Arizona-Senora Desert Museum, Picture Rocks Fire Department


Our friends Elena and Michela, sisters, arrived from Italy for a visit a couple of weeks ago.  It was their first ever plane ride and, obviously, their first visit to the USA.  We ran ourselves ragged seeing the sights the Phoenix-Tucson area offers, and each day I asked them what had impressed/amused/irritated them the most.

The answers were pretty much the same each day – everything is bigger here than in Italy (cars, roads, even the host at communion); everything is so clean. Elena was fascinated by the Adopt-a-Highway program, something which does not (yet) exist in Italy.

But the thing that amazed them the most, over and over, was how friendly and welcoming people here are.  (Interestingly, when we moved to Italy we were struck by how very welcoming people there were to us.)   Elena and Michela both enjoy meeting new people in new situations.  Michela has a special gift for drawing people out.  Her secret?  She just walks up to people and starts speaking to them in Italian; they are completely charmed.  Then it’s my turn to insinuate myself as translator, and before you know it, we all have some new friends.

Nowhere was this better illustrated than in Picture Rocks, north of Tucson.  The famous Mrs. Harris took Elena, Michela and me to the fascinating and beautiful Arizona-Senora Desert Museum.  If you’re ever in Arizona this is so worth a visit –  you can learn about all the Sonora Desert plants and see all the animals that are residents, including (among many others) the Harris Hawk

and the dozy mountain lion.

But the really exciting part of the day happened as we were on our way home.  A big red fire engine pulled in to the gas station where we stopped to tank up.  As Michela is an avid amateur photographer, Mrs. H marched up to the firemen and asked if it would be alright if Michela photographed the truck.

Of course! was the answer.  They couldn’t have been nicer.  They opened up all the doors and secret compartments of the engine so she could photograph them, and explained what all the different tools were and how they are used.  Then they got permission from the Fire Chief to give Michela a ride to the fire station in the truck.

(Not the best picture ever taken of Michela, but one that shows her glee.)

Back at the fire station the kindness escalated.  We were all given Fire Department tee shirts – deep blue, my color!  Then they found a helmet for Michela to try on, and before we knew it, she was all kitted out in complete fire-fighting regalia.

We were given a tour of the whole building – including the kitchen where the smell of cooking brisket got our appetites revved up.

Some of the firemen who weren’t present at the moment were summoned, and we took pictures of the whole  group in front of the beautiful fire engine.

They showed us the small plastic name tags that they each have attached to the inside of their helmets with velcro.  Anyone who goes into a burning building removes his name tag and leaves it with those remaining outside.  That way, as one of the firemen told us, “they’ll know whose mother to call.”  It was a reminder that much of their work is hot, dirty, hard, dangerous and unhappy.  They each removed their name tags and velcroed them to a strip of cloth for Michela to take back to Italy, a symbol of a new friendship – it was a real hands across the ocean moment.

Picture Rocks Fire Department employs about 64 people, men and women, and covers an area of about 64 square miles.  They are very likely to be called out numerous times daily, because in addition to fighting fires, they are the emergency response team.

All in all we spent about an hour and a half at the fire station – it was the highlight of the sisters’ visit to Arizona, and certainly one of the most interesting and moving experiences I’ve ever had here. Every member of the team was generous and kind to us, for no reason other than that that’s how they are. It was humbling.

And oh yeah – they gave Michela the helmet to take home, too – a real helmet that had been damaged and can no longer be used.  Our friends left on Thursday evening, and they had an interesting time packing around that helmet.  But they, and the helmet, have arrived safely back in Rapallo with some memories which we hope they will never forget; we know we won’t.

Here are a few more photos from our visit to the Picture Rocks Fire Department which, I have to imagine, is the best Fire Department in the world.

Fire Chief:  Kathy Duff-Stewart - 27 years service with the department!

Fire Chief Kathy Duff-Stewart, 27 years service with the department!

Home Away from Home

14 Sunday Feb 2010

Posted by farfalle1 in Arizona, Shopping, Uncategorized

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

Ikea, Ikea Phoenix

Though I don’t do it often, I love to shop; the words ‘retail therapy’ resonate with me in same way ‘comfort food’ does. Both can offer a brief vacation from whatever ails your spirits.

It was therefore with a light heart that I set out with my Light Rail buddy for a little bit of therapy.

photo courtesy of evliving.com

Look familiar? Do they ALL look like this? My friend A. and I visit Ikea in Genova when we need furnishings or other items for the house, and they seldom disappoint. For clean design and reasonable workmanship, materials and price, it’s hard to beat Ikea. (Note – in Italy we call it Ee-kay-ah, here in the US it is called Eye-key-ah.)

Once inside I was transported immediately back to the familiar territory of the Genova store – it was all identical, except for the language of the signs.


Our first stop, because we got a late start, was the cafeteria, which serves the same Swedishy dishes we eat in Italy – smoked salmon, shrimps on a boiled egg with mayo, meatballs. We opted for the shrimp salad and something that I’ve not seen in Italy, a thick cream of mushroom soup – all yummy, as usual, and a good lunch for just over $5.

After we picked up the few odds and ends we ‘needed’ we made a stop at the food store, which looked almost identical to the one in Genova, though perhaps not quite as large.

But wait – there’s something missing!  Where’s the coffee bar??  It’s not there!  Instead there is this:

No doubt you can get coffee there, perhaps not cappucino though.  And I dare you to try to find the hot dog at the coffee bar in Genova!

So they do make some accommodation to location, evidently.  But the stores are enough alike that I suffered a moment’s complete disorientation when we emerged into the bright Arizona sun.  Where was our car?  We always park underneath the store… and why does the parking lot look so different?  Oh yeah, that’s right, we’re not in Italy, are we.  But it’s nice to know that whenever I get really homesick for ‘over there’ I can just drive down the I-10, walk into the Phoenix Ikea and become confused enough to think I’m a continent away.

Merry Christmas from Arizona

24 Thursday Dec 2009

Posted by farfalle1 in American habits and customs, Arizona, Christmas lights; Gold Canyon Christmas lights, Holidays, Photographs, Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

I love driving around and looking at people’s Christmas decorations.  Being far too lazy to do much myself, I am in awe of the amount of work and the imagination that some people confer on their houses at this season. After having seen djmick’s photos of 112 over-the-top houses, Apache Junction seems pretty tame, but here is my tribute to local lights (which are difficult to photograph).  My very favorite decoration is the last one in the series below, executed by our neighbors from New Hampshire, but it is not effective at night.

If you live in the Phoenix area and you love lights, too, you might enjoy a trip to the Zoo for the annual Zoo Lights show… or take a virtual tour by clicking the link.

Expatriate wishes you all a Jolly Holiday Season and a Happy New Year..

Trees on the median strip in a development

Angels at the gate

Christmas tree with presents and deer

Creche scene in an entryway

Porpoises swim at the far left!

Star/cross with angels or shepards or kings

Ocotillo and Santa

This really is someone's enormous house!

I bet they did this veeerrrrry carefully...

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