Torce Cuello...

...Which is not even an Italian word, but a Spanish one.

(Thanks, boss. And I'd like to also give a grateful shout out to Federico, the religious brother from Mexico who sat beside me for the 4 days I attended language school, and who was, apparently, speaking in Spanish 95% of our conversations. Which explains why a lot of my efforts to communicate with the locals have been met with blank stares.)

The phrase, however it is spelled, translates something like 'to twist the neck,' and is the apparent source of many a health ailment in Italia. The reasoning goes something like this: if you are out in the wind, exposed and scarf-less (or simply underdressed), the force and chill of it may twist your neck, rendering you permanently damaged. Therefore, each and every Italian bambino and bambina we see is wrapped in at least a fur-hooded parka and a scarf, twisted ostentatiously round the outside of the jacket, in order not to arouse the suspicions (of the authorities? Fellow parents?) that you're not doing your due diligence toward your child's health.

As a transplant from the land of random snow, wind, sunshine, and 40 degree temperature swings on a given day, I am not much accustomed to dressing 'for the weather.' In our family, we practiced more of a 'run from the house to the car, from the car to the store' defense against inclement weather, and if it's warmer than 58 degrees Fahrenheit ... tanning weather!

Here, it is apparently a criminal offense to bring a child out into the world hatless. Double negative points if they don't even own a scarf, which I would swear is a kind of mom gang flagging symbol meant to portray your competence to other mothers. I mean it's tied on the outside of their jackets for crying out loud. But that is so typically Roman: flash before function.

At any rate, we've gradually come to a grudging belief in/mockery of the torce cuello (or the torchy cola, as our American accents render it), and have adopted it into our lexicon to describe all things weird, amusing, and potentially dangerous about our new, strange homeland.

Example: "Pull his pant leg down, he'll get a torchy cola on his leg!"

"Shut the window, the torchy colas will get in during the night!"

"Look at that pantsless freshman wearing denim booty shorts over tights - she's sure to catch a torchy cola on her ass."

You get the picture.

So, I'm calling it our first step into real cultural integration. And I'm also a bit chagrined to report that yesterday evening, when headed out for a stroll to St. Peter's square, I bundled Joey into a tshirt, sweater, ski coat and knit cap. And it was 50 degrees.

The cultural pressure is getting to me already! I can feel the penetrating glares of the smoking grandmothers and moms at the park when they behold my two blonde bombshells, bare-headed in the face of dangerous whipping winds and rain.

Colorado, don't disown me. I'm just trying to fit in. 

Head and chest covered: torchy-cola proof

Exposed cranium and neck meat. Basically inviting torchy colas to attack.

An abdominal torchy cola. It's terminal.

7 (Really) Quick Takes

1. We are unexpectedly moving sooner than I had dared to hope... tomorrow, in fact.  And I have my drug-addicted (and apparently parole-violating) next door neighbor to thank.  So thank you, Bob the Buffalo... though you probably had a rough night in the drunk tank after the cops busted down your door at midnight, I promise you, you slept better than we did...

2. We are moving into a house.  A HOUSE!  A house of our very own, with a yard and space to plant a garden that I can watch die and, and... even set up a wading pool.  God has a funny way of answering prayers sometimes.

3. My son loves to hear anyone burp, or even pretend to burp.  I don't know how he knows that as an eventual adolescent boy he will be required to laugh at said bodily function, but let me tell you, he thinks it is hilarious.  Hilarious.  Don't even ask how we discovered this.

4. Yesterday me, the boy and the Bob jogger stumbled upon a coyote on our mid-afternoon stroll across the burning wasteland of open space behind our apartment complex.  Technically I was on a multi-purpose path through one of Denver's many lovely greenbelts ... but the coyote was in clear, flagrant violation of Denver's leash law and didn't seem one bit sorry.  But I bet he was sorry after I growled at him and flailed my arms in most threatening manner.  FYI, coyotes are like uglier, dirtier and skinnier versions of wolves... and a lot less aggressive, apparently.  Though I am, admittedly, fearsome in my workout gear.

5.  90 Shilling.  Go out and buy a 6 pack of O'Dell Brewing Company's  90 Shilling Ale.  Tonight.  We have rediscovered our affection for this brew after a long hiatus spent dabbling in cheaper, lesser imitations, but no more.  If you happen to live in North Pennsylsota and can't get your paws on it... well, that's a shame.  A crying shame.  Craft breweries are one of Colorado's greatest contributions to this fine nation, and I pity the fool who hasn't imbibed.

6. I am reading this right now and loving it.  Every page is causing me to drop the book and sigh and reflect on how very far I have to go in the spiritual journey still... and how very large and wide is God's mercy.  I love St. Francis.

7. The following items are necessary to have on hand for any major relocation effort: Sharpies; discarded produce boxes from the grocery store which smell of old bananas; Target bags, scraps of paper towels to wrap delicate items in and then to use to dry tears upon discovery of remains of said item upon arrival; copious amounts of coffee; goldfish crackers to toss on the floor to distract any children who may be present during the operation; wine. Just plenty of wine. Did I miss anything?

Be sure to visit Jen over at Conversion Diary!

7 Quick Takes Friday

I've finally caved, figuring that an uninspired post is better than the post I write in my head and never finish and/or publish, and joined the other legion of mommybloggers whose actual responsibilities far outpace their alloted 24 hours per standard day.  So, here are my 7 truly random, non-unifying thoughts...

1. I am going to be pregnant forever.  I was pondering this while perusing the Walmart junior's department last night, fingering the fine poly/rayon blends of summer frocks and wondering if a size14 XL designed for a chunky high-schooler would look good drapped over my pregnant belly.  The answer, it turns out, was yes.  And I don't shop at Walmart.  But apparantly my alter-ego, big-bellied-Bertha, couldn't care less about the working conditions of slave children in China.

2. I've been listening to Laura Ingraham on my morning commute, and NPR on the way home.  I'm anticipating a schizophrenic psychotic break any day now...

3. Is there anything more deliciously ironic in the world than the posturing of our president who wants so badly to be taken "seriously," yet simultaneously feels the need to "connect" with his inferiors.  Pathetic, BHO.  Just pathetic.

4. I've recently forayed into the world of crafty DIY bloggers, and I don't ever want to turn back.  In other news, my unborn child may have spraypaint fume-induced brain damage.  My covered apartment balcony is only so ventilated...  Check out All Things Thrifty for a complete and utter thrill. 

5. Despite what I've read about decreased fetal activity as baby gets too big for his britches, so to speak, it feels like I'm hosting a World Cup rematch in my abdomen, and my child is apparently so territorial, that so much as the slight pressure of an errant coffee mug or a gently-resting book can set off a furious string of roundhouse kicks visible to the naked eye. No wonder the guys in my office look at me with such a mix of wild-eyed panic and awe.  At least I think it's awe...

6. The more I read on the lives of the Saints, the more I'm becoming convinced that ours may not necessarily be a "saint-making age," despite the superabundance of evil all around us.  I'm pretty sure St. Catherine of Siena never would have watched the Hills, and probably would have been stunted in her prolific written correspondence by the existence of Netflix Instant Cue.  Are we too busy to be holy?  Too distracted?  I know I sure feel like I am ...

7. I've almost died while driving twice this week.  The first time involved a dropped lipgloss and the back of an SUV.  The second time could only have happened in Colorado, or possibly Wyoming, when a huge ass horse in a partially-enclosed trailer tooka  flying dump on the interstate at 65 mph and... let's just say the gate wasn't quite high enough to contain all of that equine glory.  I made a rather hasty lane change to avoid physical trauma, but the psychological scarring will remain for years.

Because I'm Still Too Emotional to Cover it...

Here you go, party people.  My mind is still reeling with amazement, gratitude, grief and shock...and yes, I am aware that none of this is actually based upon reality.  So sue me.

Enjoy!

Because I Can

I'd like to get a few things off my chest.

First: I loathe our president.  Okay, I don't technically "hate" anyone, but darned if I haven't had to confess feelings of rage and malice for everything that man stands for at almost every visit to the box in the past 14 months....

Second: Universal Healthcare?  Reeeeally?  Remind me who's paying for it again?  And could somebody explain to me how $180 a month for a basic plan is simply out of reach for some Americans, while $300 smart phones and $90 monthly data plans are the status quo?  Here's an idea: You may have free healthcare... if, you can prove that you are actually destitute beyond  a reasonable doubt.  (Note: this means you have neither cable, a cell phone, internet access, nor any of the other myriad "necessities" our culture has deemed essential to existence.  Sheesh.)  I mean, come on people, I've been broke as hell before... but there are some things that you shell out for and others that you go without... and the government isn't there to tell you which is which!

Third: A killer whale dragged a woman to a drowning death by the ponytail, and this is apparently "big news."  For 3 days running.  Now, I am as grieved by the loss of human life as any healthy person would be, but it is not exactly front page news, particularly when the hottest buzz surrounding the incident is whether or not the fricking Orcas are being mistreated at Sea World.  Um, yes.  They probably are.  They are probably very unhappy to be living in fish tanks and not out surfing ice shelves and snarfing down seals.  But seriously, how many humans does this whale have to whack in order to qualify as a credible threat to society?  Put the thing back in the ocean and put it out of its misery.

And finally: I am pregnant.  And this is my blog.  Therefore, I can say preeeeeetty much whatever I want, and you can't fault me for it (well, unless it is immoral or objectively untrue).  Also, please recognize that if you submit obscene, misogynistic, or generally twisted comments for moderation... heh, guess what?  They're not going up.  Period.  Sorry to be so harsh, but I'm not submitting myself or my readers to that abuse.  That being said, please know that I am praying for you, even if you totally freak me out.