Which way did he go?

They have banned smoking in the Villa Comunale, Naples' Central Park. Two cops on horses stopped a guy and told him to put out his cigarette. The guy complied, though I imagine he lit up when he saw that the horsies were out of sight. I was interviewed by a local TV station on the subject, but I neglected to ask which station, so I don't know if my thoughts and my face appeared on Neapolitan TV. I might have missed my chance at fame! I haven't given up hope though. I am still waiting for Woody Allen to discover me. He never did find the best replacement for Julie Kavner.

It is gloriously sunny albeit windy. La Bimba now says ET for wet, and she says glasses and eyes.

The Husband, La Bimba, three friends, and I went to Avellino on Sunday to eat some meat. We went to a place called La Bussola in Serino. We got lost, of course, so it tooks us forever to get there, but it was worth the trip. Great warm vegetable dishes (escarole, potatoes), pasta (pappardelle con funghi porcini, ravioli, and MEAT. Lamb, veal, pork, the works...with fries!

Part of the reason we got so lost is the La Bussola folks had told us on the phone that there were tons of signs on the way, so we couldn't miss it. There was not...one...sign, until the entrance to the place, and that one was facing in the opposite direction we were coming from. And the great great fantastic Neapolitan fabulous thing about this story? La bussola means compass.

Italian road signage is notoriously bad. Every time we go to visit The Husband's sister in Aversa, we get lost (except for last time; Go Husband!). This is because there are a zillion signs for Aversa sud, we need Aversa nord (there is one), there are several for Aversa, just plain Aversa, and the crucial signs are hidden behind other signs, so you only see them once you're past them.

E' da una vita....

I will not bore you hear with the myriad excuses for why I haven't been blogging. I fear I have lost you, dear readership. It's November 23rd, more than a month since my last post. Will UTNS have to be considered a do-over?

Perhaps. But not before I tell you that my neighbor C., her husband, her two kids, her friend from Denmark with 3-month-old baby, La Bimba, and I took the funicolare to the Vomero for Thanksgiving dinner at another expat American's home. This would have been nothing special had it not been for the fact that C. was carrying the turkey -- the cooked and stuffed turkey -- in an Ikea bag. The bird was really stinking up the joint and C. was mortified. Luckily, I was yabbering in Italian to a Spanish friend about the turkey and Thanksgiving and so on, so the Neapolitans all breathed a collective sigh of relief that signified, "Meno male! E' il tacchino che puzza, non gli americani!"

La Bimba is growing up fast, throwing mini tantrums, shouting "mio mio mio," refusing foods she once loved, calling me mamma instead of mommy after having spent all of 5 hours with her Neapolitan cousin (just goes to show how many times an hour a Neapolitan child says "mamma"), saying new words like bapf (which means bat) and otch (watch) and ox (socks). We head to NYC next week for a long stay and I am looking forward to showing her the lights and riding the subway and seeing friends and family and just being New Yorkese.

Hope to be blogging again soon.