Cute Kids

When I first spent a Saturday morning at Casa San Michele, the hours dragged by. I was so worried I would do something wrong, and I could not remember anyone's name. I assumed that I would have to get by with the Italian equivalent of "Hey you" when I needed to get the attention of someone specific.

I never thought the kids would really like me. I figured I would just watch to make sure they did not swallow any marbles or hit each other.

I never thought they would actually run over to me with their arms outstretched, wanting my attention, or insist on giving me good-bye kisses before I left.

But now that it is almost over I think, what will these kids grow up to be? Will I ever see them again? Would I recognize them if I did? I don't expect three-year-olds to remember a girl who spent four hours with them on Saturdays for 8 months, but am I going to search the faces of any Iris, Michele, Fabbian, Luna I meetfor a glimpse of the kids I played with in Florence?

Probably.

***Buona Pasqua***

Easter Bunny Cake 2008--We didn't buy all the appropriate decorations beforehand and had to improvise Easter Sunday.

I have not been a diligent blogger. I attribute this to my life being a little mundane. I know, I know, I am in Italy, life should not be mundane. Everyday of my life I am living this exotic adventure (well, exotic may be a bit of a stretch, it is not like I'm in the jungles of the Amazon), la dolce vita. And it is the sweet life, but after a while living in Florence just feels a lot like living anywhere else, which makes me want to more fully appreciate the beauty and significance of any place I reside.

But, I do things besides attempt to research (attempt because I am lured from legitimate study by the wiles of the internet too often). I should elaborate on the amazing adventure I had with my grandma and her siblings and their significant others over spring break and my trip to Lucca with my church chum the lovely Liz, but my fingers only have the tenacity to write about one event at a time. Hence, I have chosen Easter.

It rained a lot. April Showers, eh?

I had a lovely dinner with some of my fellow Master's students.

And for the dinner, I made this fantastic cake, modelled after the traditional Scheidler Family Easter Bunny Cake. It doesn't seem like Easter without this masterwork of cake-making. It would perhaps be more indulgent of the spiritual side of Easter if we made a nice cross cake, or if we were really ambitious, we coud recreate Christ emerging from the tomb. However, I can imagine I'd be less comfortable eating that. (But such a cake would put an interesting apin on historical debate on whether communion is symbolically or literally the body of Christ). All cake discussion aside, I do appreciate the spiritual side of Easter and love that typically we celebrate the resurrection of Christ and the hope that it brings just as spring is dawning after winter's bleakness.

I just love hope.

Now...for a picture of the Bunny Cake 2010--Its Italian Debut

2010 was another year for improvising. The bowtie is frosted with nutella, the eyes are made from cookies, where I might have used pink frosting I used strawberries, and I thought some white chocoate buck teeth would be a nice touch. And it didn't taste too bad either (and if you're dying to know...I made the cake from scratch...without a recipe. I just may be amazing.)