Father's Day is today, a Saturday in Italy, so we are heading out tonight to a local pizza place to enjoy two generaions of fathers and give thanks for all they do for our family.
For me, Saturday mornings are always special. It's my time to recharge batteries, a type of Sabbath rest that doesn't happen when rushing to church on a Sunday. This Saturday we are with my husband's daughter and her young family in the Le Marche area on the Adriatic. Papa G (ie the son in law)woke up (from a sleepless night with baby D)to a sign on Baby D's chalkboard saying "Happy Father's Day, " and a note on his screen saver. Later in the morning my husband had some father-daughter time as they took Baby D to his weekly swimming lessons in the only learner pool for miles around.
I just basqued in the sun on the terrace. Some Saturdays I love time to myself, sometimes a special lesurily moment with my husband or a very long telephone chat with my sister. As part of this Italian version of my Saturday morning ritual I was enjoying a good book, but I was missing my very large black coffee. Then the idea came to me. I made the usual Italian expresso on the stovetop in one of those iconic Italian designed coffee makers, and poured it into an American sized mug, added hot water and presto...I had the Saturday morning coffee all set. Back on the balcony reading and giving thanks for the fathers in our family...
