foggy foggy foggy frenchonionsoup!

Both Saturday and Sunday mornings were incredibly foggy last weekend. I took a photo to attempt to show... well... not much... there wasn't much to see!

That is the view from my balcony... the trees lining the street can just be made out... but the farm across the way seems non-existent... instead, there is a wall of clouds. Pretty cool - especially when I was planning on a comfy, relaxing morning inside my apartment anyway.

...It was the perfect, chilly weekend to make french onion soup in the crockpot and drink plenty of coffee while it cooked! Mmmmmmhmmmmm   : )

I then enjoyed the soup all week and, thankfully, the fog cleared up about mid-day each day.

The weather has actually been really nice lately... untillllllll this past week (since the foggy weekend!).

I haven't been checking the weather forecast - but Dad does for me!

Hilariously... I received the following email (entire email copied and pasted below) last Sunday evening from my dad, with the subject of: Weather:

Stacia,

It looks like your stretch of fabulous weather is coming to a horrible end!

Love.

Dad

Bahahahahahaha. Hilariously, and yet so sadly, true. The next day (Monday) it began to rain... and it didn't stop for days. Thankfully, I'm in Seville, Spain now (WHAT?! - YES!! I will blog more about that later... I am here for a conference and a school visit)... it did (ALSO) rain here earlier today but I was inside at that time anyway. When I went on a walking tour and then my own photo-ing tour in the evening, it was lovely outside.

Thanks for the heads-up Dad! It actually really helped me out -- both mentally (saying goodbye to the nice weather and being prepared for the not-so-nice), as well as physically (I packed my umbrella!).

Dad, I love you! I'll see you and Mom NEXT MONTH!!!!!!!!!   : D

OLIVES! ...if everyone buys olives, would you buy olives too?!

I was in a large supermarket in the city, Esselunga, picking up some groceries the other night.

While perusing through the produce section and heading into the bakery section, there was an entire case of olives. Yes! All different kinds of olives... marinated olives... green olives, black olives... olives that looked the same as other olives but were apparently different, according to the label... olives, olives, olives ...mmmmmhmmmmm.

I was trying to figure out what kind I should take with me to try...

I walked back and forth along the long case of olives a number of times...

And while doing so, three different elderly Italian people came up to the olive case and each went straight for one type of olives. They were green, they seemed to be marinated with something - to which I assumed had to be a marinade of deliciousness, seeing as how all three people that chose olives while I was there, ALL three, went for this one type.

Done.

I completely followed suit.

If these elderly Italians know which type of olives to buy (because apparently they do), then I'm going to trust them!

I scooped up a package of the delicious-looking olives and went on my way.

As soon as I returned to my apartment, I opened this package of olives and was definitely not disappointed! Mmmmmhmmmmm! Delicious.

Here's a photo to make your mouth water a bit...

I've been enjoying these each day since the purchase.

Come visit me in Milan! -- I will feed you delicious green olives!   : P

"Guarda la Americana..."

Riding my bicycle up to my apartment building's gate just now, I was arriving back from picking up some groceries from the store and also water from the park.

There was a lady unloading a ton of bags from her car and putting them in the entryway.

When I pulled up on the sidewalk she said something to me in rapid Italian. I replied with, "Parlo un poco Italiano. Mi dispiace." (I speak a little Italian. Sorry.)

She continued talking to me in Italian... and I just kind of shrugged and smiled as I got off my bike, walking towards the gate.

The lady moved a bag out of the way and said, "Ecco." (Here.)

"Grazie!"

As the lady walked back to get more from her car and I unlocked the gate to go inside, I hear her say to her little girl in the car... "Guarda la Americana."

Hahahahaha... well, I know enough Italian to understand that one! ...She said to her little girl: Look at the American.

Nice. I got a chuckle out of that.