She's Ready For Her Closeup Mr. DeMille

The bambino LOVES getting her photo taken. It is virtually impossible to get a candid image of her because she hears the camera turn on or focus, and she turns her head and smiles. She's done that to me even when we were in a coffee shop and she was busy concentrating on walking up a few stairs and I was on the other side of the room, still she heard my camera and looked up and smiled.

Of course, between Grammie and Grampie, Nana and Pa, Aunties Trina and EJ, and Auntie C, she kind of has her own personal cadre of paparazzi, we may have inadvertently encouraged the development of this camera-loving behavior. :)

And ironically, the one time she really did not want her picture taken was when they took a family portrait for the church directory. Breen and Patrick look absolutely lovely but the bambino is a complete grumpy gus in that photo, nothing they tried could get her to smile for it.

In any case, Patrick did a big and epic wedding this past weekend (groom is a fire chief, the extensive wedding party rode to the reception in a caravan of firetrucks), and as it was a family their whole family knew well, Breen and bambino went to the wedding and festivities too.

Apparently, the bambino became quite upset that she was not included in the official wedding photos - after all, everybody she knows loves taking her picture, and she loves having her picture taken, so clearly she should be in all these photos, and these silly people weren't letting her be in any of them! She got so upset, Breen finally had to take her out of the church and drive her around in the car until she fell asleep!

I'm cracking up imagining her inner monologue at that point: "Must stay awake. . .must be in pictures. . .but getting so. . .sleepy. . .car. . .you are. . .evil. . . .can't. . .fight. . . .the nap. . . . .any--zzzzzz"


Not to worry, bambino. This member of your entourage will see you soon enough, and I will more than make up for the lack of picture taking this past weekend. I'm sure I'll even let you run around with my camera again, because we both know you've had me wrapped around your little pinky since the day you were born. :)

On a Stiiick, Day Three

Today was my third day at the Happiest Place on Earth - this time again with Maminka, family friend Sharon, my Aunt Terri, my cousin Liz, her boyfriend Trav, and their little guy Jayden.

We did crepes for breakfast this morning - I opted for banana and nutella. . .hmmm, nutella.



As soon as we finished Jayden wanted to go on the Giant Slide - good man! I've been waiting all week for someone to go on that with me.

We finally got to the lower end of grounds - the DNR building (this was also a hoot with Jayden, especially seeing how many animals we could spot and identify in the wildlife wing), the Miracle of Birth center and the regular barns, and Heritage Square.



Speaking of barns, I am always way more amused by this than I should be, but why are the two options for keeping sheep's wool clean between making them members of the klan



or enrolling them in a jazzercise class?



We went back over a lot of other territory we covered on Tuesday as well, but I never catch everything in those buildings the first time through, so that was good. Indiana Jayden bought a cool lasso to go with his fedora (the hat was at home)



We tried two new (to us) Fair foods today: deep fried pickles [NOT my idea; conclusion: meh, no desire to ever eat it again], and the deep fried apple pie with cinnamon ice cream [looks and tastes better than it sounds - basically like an apple pie turnover, this one WAS my idea; conclusion: muy yum (you know it's got to be good if it's palindromically yummy!), now on the list of things that must be had at the fair every year]. Plus, their booth has awesome signage:





Alas, all too soon it was once again time to leave. I do have a spare ticket in my hot little hands, but I'm not sure if I'll get a chance to use it before it all disappears for another year.



Incidentally, this pouty face is remarkably similar to the one the bambino gives me on the very rare occasions that I don't let her play with my camera:

Best 4th of July Ever

Independence Day is not anywhere close to my favorite holiday, but for some reason it always proves to be one of the most memorable ones in terms of the day's events.

I've experienced a number of memorable 4ths, including but not limited to: one hosting Adri and Martina during their very first visit to America, two in the nation's capital (as a teenager marching in the National 4th of July parade with the Flaketown Marching Band, and as a young adult living in DC), one driving back to Minnesota the day after Sarah and Rob's wedding (btw, Happy Anniversary yous twos!), and two as an ex-patriot (one with friends in Ottendorf-Okrilla, the other observed with fellow ex-patriots in a French bar in the Kunsthof of Dresden's Neustadt).

But today I got to celebrate the 4th with the bambino, on her very first day in Minnesota. And what made it the best and most memorable ever was the smile on her face and the excitement in her eyes when she realized it was Auntie C who had just walked in the door.

Every time I think I couldn't possibly love this kid any more than I already do, she goes and opens the door to a chamber in my heart that I didn't even know existed.

The Bambino Files

The short version: she is totally awesome.

Very determined little kid, very intent about practicing the new skills she is learning.

So during my visit she was all about climbing stairs. She had just figured out how to go up so she wanted to keep practicing, practicing, practicing that until she perfected it. And she wanted to go down like an adult would (holding on to an adult's hands, of course). We thought, "She's probably never seen a baby go down stairs before" so we modeled for her how to do it safely, on her bum. And she looked at us like, "That's interesting, now give me your hands so I can do this properly."

She is also finding her voice. Lots of practice with babbling sounds and other sound effects. She discovered Auntie C is a fun one to practice this with because I also love making all kinds of sound effects and will either mimic what the bambino does or supply the bambino a new sound to mimic. :)

She has a great sense of rhythm. She bounces to the beat if there is music on. One night after dinner, I made up a song about all the foods she likes to eat and I put a little rhythmic clap in there. After watching and listening for a couple minutes, she started clapping with me, not indiscriminately, but exactly with me, in the right place, right number of claps, right rhythm.

And she is walking. She did it for the first time when I was there, on Sunday after church, she walked by herself a few times that day and then wouldn't do it the rest of the week, regardless of our encouragement. But then a week after I got back to MN, she started doing it on a regular basis. And is apparently undeterred by impromptu baby gates, she will climb right over them.

As I said, the bambino is totally awesome!

The Dude Turns 30

If you see this guy around town today (Friday) wish him a happy birthday.

Then tell him to quit making me feel old! :)

Love you bro!

Hey Wait a Minute. . .

When people ask me where I'm going to school, I can never just say "Luther" because half the time they think I'm talking about Luther College in Decorah, Iowa. I always have to specify that I go to Luther Seminary (and even then, a good chunk of the people are still confused and say, "Oh, down in Iowa?").

My cousin Andrew is in fact a student at Luther College. And it occurred to me today: Andrew is this very moment eating and sight-seeing his way across Italy for a January term class on culture.

I am spending the January term in Minnesota, considering my vocation as a theologian and slogging my way through Wolfhart Pannenberg.

I am beginning to think I have enrolled at the wrong Luther. . . ;)

Twitterpated

Last week I was in PA visiting Breen, Patrick, and the bambino. A lot of thoughts churning around in my head in relation to this visit, but for tonight, it's just about the bambino.

I think we've all been pretty smitten with her since the day she was born, but I also have to say, she gets more amazing by the day. I swear I witnessed synapses forming as she would intently work out how to do something she didn't yet know how to do. Absolutely incredible. And so much fun, she is a happy baby and a joy to be around.

And I'm in trouble because she has completely got my number. I got into town on Tuesday night, by Wednesday morning she had me figured out, knew how to get me to do whatever she wanted: carry her around, sing to her, make silly faces at her, feed her a bottle, change a poopy diaper. . .there is nothing I wouldn't do for this kid and she already knows it.

But seriously, could you say no to this adorable face?

My Big Fat Italian Christmas

Ciccone Christmas this afternoon. First time I've been able to make it in five years, I'm pretty stoked.

I've decided to go old school and bring Nana's rum cake. I'm still getting used to baking in this oven, so it looks a little overdone, but I think it will still taste good.

People used to tease Nana and say they could only have one piece, otherwise they might get drunk from the cake. She'd get embarrassed and say "all the alcohol bakes out, it's just the flavor that stays."

For the record: the rum you put in the batter may bake out in the oven, but I'm pretty sure the rum you add to the sauce right before you pour it all over the cake doesn't evaporate that quickly. ;)

Ode to My Brother on His Golden Birthday

(some very rough verse)



How can you be 28
when I so clearly remember
the day you were born?

I was in the living room
at Grandma and Grandpa's house.
Playing. . .
waiting. . .
when the phone rang.
Grandma answered it in the kitchen
the same phone she still rents from Ma Bell.

I walked
tentatively
across the dining room
toward the sound of her voice.
She hung up
as I reached the doorway
of the kitchen.
Turning to me
she beamed
"You have a baby brother!"
Just what I wanted!
How did mom and dad know?

How can you be 28
when it seems like I was 28
just a few blinks ago?

How did this gap in our ages
which, when we were teenagers,
seemed such an impossibly wide
C H A S M
suddenly close up on us
when we weren't looking?

How you can you be 28?
And yet
you are.
Time marches on
and your golden year
is waiting
to unfold.


Love you bro! Happy Birthday!

Good Art

My cousin Sarah is an outstanding artist and photographer, and she just launched a new website - it's really cool, you should go check it out.

Nana's House of Sauce

Tomorrow is our "stockholder" dinner at church - a thank you to all the folks who helped to underwrite the mission trip and summer camp experiences. A few people have been hinting around about trying my family red sauce, so I decided to make it for the dinner. As I type, batch #3 of 4 is simmering on my stove, and probably won't be done until after midnight. #4 is going to have to wait until tomorrow to get going - good thing this is for dinner!

I have not had a marathon sauce-making day like this since preparing for my ordination party, when Nana and I pulled both a marathon sauce day and a marathon meatball day. It was a lot of work, but we had so much fun cooking together and hanging out, I wouldn't trade that time for anything. I could get to the phone faster than she could, so whenever it rang, I would run to grab it and answer "Nana's House of Sauce," which would make both her and the person on the other end of the line chuckle.

In the middle of the first day, she was asking a lot of questions about my new call, what the congregation was like, and the area I'd be living in, and how much vacation time I got, and then all of sudden she blurted out, "Do you think they'll let you come home to bury me?" I was kind of taken aback, and after a little pause to let the request sink in, I asked, "Nana, is that what you want?" "Yes, I think so. Yes." "Then yes, I will come home to bury you."

Hard to believe she's been gone for a year and a half already. Marathon sauce days are certainly a lot less fun when you're working alone. . .

The Newest Ciccone

While Gustav has been tearing through the Gulf Coast, and protesters have been demonstrating in St. Paul, over in Minneapolis my cousin Steve and his wife Stephanie have been riding out their own personal drama bringing their firstborn into the world. After making us wait 11 days past his due date and putting his mother through a prolonged labor, Clark Steven Ciccone at long last drew his first breath shortly after midnight early, early this morning.

Mom and baby are doing fine, and Rever (nickname - long story) couldn't be a prouder papa, though the long labor was kinda rough on all of them, so if you're a praying type, please hold them in your own prayers these next few days.

Welcome to the world, baby Clark! We are so glad you are finally here!

Famiglia

The blog has been silent lo these many weeks because I have been off cavorting in Europe, and right now I'm at the Festival of Homiletics in the motherland. More on all of that later, but for now, check out the really nice piece that WCCO did on my cousin Andrew last Friday.

Congrats buddy! I love ya!

Making Stock and Taking Stock

Yesterday after church I roasted the whole chicken that I bought on Friday. After carving off what I would use for sandwiches and other meals this week, I boiled what was left to make stock.

I bought the chicken directly from the farmer who raised it locally in a sustainable and humane fashion. The local butcher who processes the birds is in the habit of leaving the neck and (inexplicably) the kidneys attached. My point in sharing this being: whenever I purchase and prepare one of these birds, I am always overwhelmed by how close I feel to the source of my food. And I don't just mean that it's local. I mean, somehow (maybe it's the attached neck, which, admittedly, kinda creeps me out), these birds just _look_ closer to the real, living creature than the chicken you buy in the store (they taste a lot better, too).

And in the process of rinsing, roasting, carving, boiling, and picking, I am also overwhelmed by how close I feel to my grandmothers, who have prepared countless chickens in this way as a course of habit and necessity.

Feeling so close to your food, and to those who regularly have (or had) to put this much effort into preparing food, sure makes one excessively grateful. As I was picking the boiled meat off the neck last night (a task which makes me particularly sqeamish), I started thinking about Grandma Louise's stories of Tante Janz, who could kill a chicken by stepping on its neck, grabbing its legs and pulling up, all without ever losing a beat or batting an eye. I shuddered and said a prayer of thanks that I do not live in a time or place where I routinely have to kill and butcher my own food, nor do I have a job that requires me to do so on behalf of others. I also said a prayer of thanks for those who _do_ do the hard, sometimes disgusting, often thankless work that puts so many foods so conveniently on my table.

I think it's good, it's important, to get this kind of reality check on a regular basis - it keeps me mindful of how much I waste, of how much I take for granted. And though I hate handling raw meat and mostly avoid it whenever possible, the sense of connection I feel - to other people, to my community, to the whole of God's good creation - whenever I have a chicken cooking day like this, far outweighs the gross factor. Plus, like I said, the end result tastes a lot better than anything you'll buy in the store!

Peace,
Catrina

Join the Revolution

I talked to my brother tonight to wish him a happy birthday, and after a rehash of the State of the Union address and a lengthy analysis of the Democratic primary race (what I can say? we're both political nerds and progressive activists) he was telling me about his latest efforts to promote his band. They're not on a label, just struggling (and, I fear, often starving) artists hoping to make a life doing what they love.

His latest strategy is to do a mass-marketing campaign via myspace (along with a new digital download program for his music). The whole idea is just fascinating to me, because he could literally reach thousands of people a day, inviting them to check out his site, and if even a fraction of them are willing to pay a buck to buy one of his songs, he might actually start making a livable wage, not to mention building the exposure and fan base that could land him better venues and better-paying gigs. Another illustration, I guess, of the kind of grassroots moblization that is possible via the internet and these social networking sites.

If you want to help him out and join the revolution, check out Mongoo Music and have a listen, or, if you're in the Twin Cities, go to one of his shows. The digital download stuff isn't fully functional yet (in part, he needs to get some cleaner recordings), but if you like any of his songs in particular, either let me know or let him know directly through myspace, so he knows which songs to get up and running first.

Peace,
Catrina