Me, My Kitchen, and Gaddafi's head-on-a-Plate

Cake is good.  I mean, who doesn't like cake?  (Communists.  That's who.)  People like eating cake.  Dare I say, cakes make the world a better place.  I can make cake; therefore, I make the world a better place.  I am patiently awaiting my Nobel Prize in pastry.

I'm not sure if this project qualifies me for the short list of people going to Hell or not. Hope not. I might have to stop one of these Nuns that are always walking around here and ask...

Today's cake may remove me forever from the Pastry Peace Prize list...and possibly get me put on Santa's naughty list as well.  No unicorns or rainbows in today's endeavor.  Nope.  No puppies with bows or cartoon characters.  Nah.  No fluff.  No, today's project is (former Libyan dictator and general bad guy) Moammar Gaddafi's head on a platter.

Come on Moammar,

Let's get this party started!

Red velvet cake is a great starting point for any head-on-a-plate cake, not just Gaddafi's.  I mean, suppose your child asked for Tinker Bell's head-on-a-plate cake for her 6th birthday...totally go red velvet for that extra touch of gore.  Your dear friend getting a divorce?  Consider a head-on-a-plate cake.  So versatile!  Everyone is going to want one!

I started my research googling "head-on-a-plate cakes".  This is a dangerous undertaking.  There have been moments in the past when I have accidentally stumbled upon non cake photos in this manner...so be cautious should you go this route.  My next google was "Gaddafi cake" and from the results, I think this may be a one-of-a-kind item!  Zenga Zenga!

When making a carved cake, or carved anything I guess, the trick is to refine.  Here is stage one.  I chose 10" square pans to work with by holding various pans up to Husband's head.  Bet it never dawned on him when he married me that I would use him as a severed head model. 

Cake is baked and loosely laid out in the general shape of the caricature on the the left of my computer screen. (Yes, I did take my computer in the kitchen around all the flying flour and sugar, and yes, It is sitting on my stove.  Live dangerously!) 

There's a big old layer of buttercream holding the layers together.

After a bit of shaping...looks like a cymbal monkey in a fez.  Clearly I am heading in the right direction.

Looking a bit like a big-eared Egyptian mask, a decent shape. 

Oooooh, creepy! 

When cake is carved, it makes a bunch of crumbs.  A good way to control that is to dry them into a "crumb coat".  It's pretty simple, just make very thin icing, spread it on super thin and give it some time to dry.  If you have a big icebox (I don't), you can speed up the process by popping your severed head into the fridge.  Also good for freaking out anyone going for a glass of milk.

THE FUN PART

Two or three days before I needed to use it, I made a couple batches of marshmallow fondant.  It isn't hard and there are tons of recipes online.  It has to be made a bit ahead so it can rest...otherwise it tears easier than a 40-year-old weekend warrior's knees playing football. 

So Gaddafi's head has been dead...(like the rest of him) for nearly a year.  I was massively torn as to whether I could make him sort of zombified, you know: green-tinted skin falling apart, eyeball hanging out, exposed skull bits and a few fish nibbles.  In the end I decided that they would have asked for a "present-day Gaddafi's head-on-a-plate cake" if that was what they wanted and I reigned myself in...just a bit. 

Signature 5 o'clock shadow installed

Gaddafi's hair looks more like Princess Leia's buns than the Jheri Curl I was going for...gonna have to get your hair did Moammar!

You go girl! Zenga Zenga!

Posing with my girlfriend's sunglasses

Eyeballs painted and installed...just need to fashion some neck filling.  I'm thinking cherries cooked down in a simple syrup.  Delicious and disturbing.

The cherries are nice and fleshy suspended in the syrup. 

As it is, I have recently been getting frequent visits from the Jehovah's Witnesses.  I'm thinking about keeping a head-on-a-plate cake on standby...and inviting them in for tea.  I also think this could be a great cake for school picnics.  I would NEVER be asked to bring anything else.  EVER. 

Cutting the cake Hannibal Lecter style

To keep myself off the Naughty list, I have decided to share my Red Velvet recipe with you.  It goes against my selfish nature, but I really want that Pastry Peace Prize...



Red Velvet Cake Recipe
 (or, where I'm from, Red Carnation Cake)


 Prepare your pans with Crisco and flour, then waxed paper.
 
The stuff:

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups plus a Tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 Tablespoons cocoa powder
1 1/2 cups vegetable oil
1 cup buttermilk, room temperature
2 large eggs, room temperature
2 tablespoons red food coloring (1 ounce jar)
1 teaspoon white distilled vinegar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

  •Cream Cheese Frosting of choice


Directions

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.
Prepare pans.

In a large bowl, sift together the flour, sugar, baking soda, salt, and cocoa powder. In another large bowl, whisk together the oil, buttermilk, eggs, food coloring, vinegar, and vanilla.

Mix the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients until just combined and a smooth batter is formed. (About 2 minutes with mixer)

Divide batter evenly among the prepared cake pans. Bake until the cake pulls away from the side of the pans, and a toothpick inserted in the center of the cakes comes out clean, about 30 minutes.

Let cool completely before frosting/filling/decorating


Now go make severed head cakes!  It's the perfect end of the school year gift for your kids' teachers! No, really. I read it online somewhere. 

I always feel like somebody's waaaatchin me

Saturday Nights in Ferrara are never Boring

Warning:  This post starts with me geeking out on local history.

Palio 2011, Ferrara Italy
If you squint, you can see the horses in the center of the photo

The Palio of Ferrara is a competition between the eight districts(St. George, St. James, St. Paul, Santo Spirito, Santa Maria in Vado, St. Luke, St. John and St. Benedict) of Ferrara.  Formalized in 1279, it is considered the world's oldest palio.
Originally it was organized to celebrate a military victory, but became tradition.  Though interrupted by war, and changing locations within the city, the Palio still takes place on last Sunday of May (currently in Piazza Ariostea).  The actual race consists of matches between the putti (young people under the age of 15), donkeys and horses - each of the four races with a representative from each of the eight neighborhoods. Besides the palio races, there is a month of celebrations, parades, races and competitions among the eight neighborhoods in disciplines such as flags and music.

Lots of folks dressed in period wear for the parade

Some of the parade participants were more entertaining

Eight days before the race takes place, there is a parade of the neighborhoods extending from the city wall to the castle.   We refer to this event simply as, “the palio parade” in our group, though there may be some much fancier and more historically accurate name floating around. 




Any way, enough history, eight days before the races, that's where we join the story.  We (being good tailgating Americans) packed up our kids, our bikes, lawn chairs, and a backpack full of prosecco and headed for some open lawn. 

The flag of Santa Maria In Vado
Purple and gold with a unicorn  What's not to love?

Our contrada (district) is Santa Maria in Vado and is centered on a church by the same name one curvy block from our home.  It is a historically important church because it was the site of the Eucharistic Miracle on Easter Sunday in the year 1171.  Yes, that is over 800 hundred years ago.  No typo.  Here’s what happened: a stream of blood sprayed from the consecrated Host, which stained the vault overhanging the altar of sacrifice. The church immediately became a pilgrimage site and remains so to this day. Oh geeze, there I go getting my dork all over everything again.


So we go to watch the parade and see our contrata being way more awesome than all the others...even though we have nothing to do with said contrata the other eleven months of the year.  I actually took video of Santa Maria's parade series, but I accidentally deleted it off the camera trying to take photos later in the evening. Oops.  There's five minutes of your life back. You're Welcome.


After the parade, we packed up our American side show of lawn furniture and empty wine bottles and mounted our bikes for home. The kids were out as soon as they hit their beds and by midnight we were all in dream land.


 Dream land.  That’s a nice place.  Sometime after four a.m., I woke up to Husband yelling over some inhuman sound, "KELLY! THE HOUSE IS FALLING DOWN! WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!"  For future reference, I prefer to be woken with coffee, and at a reasonable hour...like eleven.  Perhaps in another life time.  "Bombs.  Maybe we're under attack", I thought in the split second it took me to realized that Husband was right.  We needed to get out of here. 


Don't let our shiny new bathrooms fool you, our house is old.  It was built between the 14th and 17th centuries. We do not have a single 90 degree corner, but we do have super cool painted wood ceilings.  Almost all the time I count my blessing to get to live in such an amazingly cool place...not during an earthquake, but most other times. 


The quake took our power with it, so we are running blind to get our kids.  Rutabaga was sound asleep over the less stable side of the house.  I hear glass breaking and that terrible growl as we assemble.  The kids are dazed and confused. I know we need shoes. Rutabaga won't let go of her pillow.  We grab our passports and bolt out of the house the moment the shaking stops.  We aren't sure where we're going, we just know our house is not our top pick. 


It's like a block party outside.  Neighbors we had never seen were standing in their robes and slippers holding their dogs or frantically texting.


The park - it's the biggest open space we can think of.  Yes.  Open space.  That's a good thing when surrounded by centuries old tall brick buildings in an earthquake.  Approaching, we see the outside wall, already reinforced with metal plates, has lost big chunks of bricks. And, it appears they lock the park up at night.  Oops. 

Rounding the corner, we come upon one of the decorative elements from atop the park's gate.  Ouch.  


Guess we should move on.  Where to?  In a clearer state of mind we agreed that the Wall would have been a safer place, but as it was, we went the other direction.  Chimneys and roof tiles Polk-a-dotted the street. 


This poor guy's head tumbled from a church niche across the street.

When we came upon it, one guy was trying to take it as a souvenir and another guy was trying to convince him otherwise. 




We rounded the castle and it was like an Apocalypse movie.

Five thirty in the morning and folks everywhere.  Sharing stories and information, we milled.  All of us.  Rex caring for his stuffed dog, JoJo, as well as any mother would take care of a new born.  Rutabaga still hugging her pink gingham pillow.  It was a scene from a Steven King novel...and I deleted palio parade videos and took pictures. 


After we stopped feeling aftershocks for a while, we made our way towards the medieval district, our home.  Stopping to exchange stories with a guy from work, and Fabio from our favorite pizzeria, we stepped over a remarkably small amount or rubble and made our way back to our still standing house.  Sleep followed shortly...for the kids.  Sunday morning we went out to check out the town.

The castle had some damage

There were a lot of cars that looked like this.

Some big things went boom.

There was a lot of police tape decorating the city. 


But, it really was amazing how little damage was here in town.  Our neighborhood had it's share of police tape.  But no one was killed here to the best of my knowledge.  


And for that, I suppose Santa Maria In Vado became the location of a second miracle...because it surely was an act of God that no one morted from this:

It used to be a pretty cool statue that was way up on top...right where that little open spot is

I suppose there is some super geeky physics formula that could be used to calculate the exact force a statue falling from that height would have.  I don't happen to know it.  I'm pretty sure in is roughly a shit ton. 

 
Kind looks like a unicorn.  No?






This is Today, a new day, and I'm thankful for it.

My house, still standing!

Blame it on the rain

I love a good thunderstorm.  The potent jags of light followed by the beastly poetry of a thunder roll make me happy.  We don’t get a lot around here for some reason.  The rain we get, but the rich, spleen shaking, widow rattling BOOMS are as rare as celibate rock stars. 

Growing up in rural Pennsylvania, I looked forward to storms more than the Disney Sunday night movies.  When the leaves were ripping off the trees and branches could be heard snapping, my family didn’t make a nest in the basement.  We made coffee.  My parents’ front porch is sunken into the front façade of the house and made the perfect amphitheater for a good light show.  My Dad and I logged quite a few hours during my childhood just sitting:  me curled up on the porch bench, my Dad on the top step with one of his many hideous coffee mugs.  (these storms always seemed to happen during Wheel of Fortune which, for my Mom, trumped even this.)  Dad and I didn’t have life changing conversations or even metrology lessons, just an occasional comment on the timing.  Those moments were amazingly calm in a swaddle of chaos.  Whenever that rare electric producing storm travels to these parts, it’s a mixture of excitement and a sadness that my Dad is too far away to sit on my porch with one of my hideous coffee mugs. 

Today I was defrosting my freezer (I know it’s a glamorous life I lead) when the window light I was working by dimmed.  I brewed a pot unable to keep the grin from my face.  I filled my “Vegas” mug with the first filtered six ounces and went downstairs for the show.  The only disappointment was, it was over too soon.  The lightning was pretty, but the thunder was like listening to my favorite song.  It’s like anything I guess.  It wouldn’t be quite as special if it happened all time.  Unpredictability is part of the beauty herein.  Besides, it was getting on to school pick up time, and well, that is a bit easier without a storm.

After school Rutabaga and Rex do judo.  It’s about a seventy minute class and it’s right by our city’s wall so it’s the perfect opportunity to go for a jog.  What else am I going to do?  Today, surprising as this may seem, the trail was a bit wet…having been preceded by the storm and all.  I’m wash and wear so what evs.  I’m off with the rest of the crazies logging their mad puddle dashes.  I’m sure I have mentioned this before, but I am not graceful.  I take off down the mud vein formally known as a course whilst listening to Steel Panther’s second album, Balls Out.  Holy hilarious.  I’m spraying mud everywhere.  I can feel my pants getting heavier as the dirty water wicks up through my super awesome blue terry cloth pants.  I laugh out loud when I feel a splat against the back of my Adidas windy.  Could have been the thunderstorm that had my mood so high…could have been the music…could have been the hilarity of picturing what I looked like at this moment.  Who cares?  I was having a mud pie fight with myself and enjoying every moment. 

After an hour of footie mud wrestling, I go back to get my kiddos at the gym ditching my splattered jacket in the back of my car.  I have to walk my soaked, filthy self through a funnel of perfectly coifed and carefully fashioned Italian parents also waiting for their offspring.  Looking down at my pants, it strikes me that it looks like I pulled soggy black leg warmers over my already fabous pants and I laugh despite myself. 

Back at the car I crawl in carefully, taking the towel from under Rex’s car seat for my own seat.  When we got home we all took off our soaked shoes and added them to the ones we soaked through yesterday.  My kids were off for some adventure upstairs.  Alone I stood, water bombed and starting to chill and I realize a bath is in order.  That, being one of my favorite activities, makes me smile.  And yet still I stood, not quite sure how to get from the entry on the first floor to my tub on the third floor without destroying the house I had spent the day cleaning.  I decide that the best course of action would be to remove my awesome blue terry cloth pants, ball them up with my socks and jacket, and carry the mess straight to the washer…also on the third floor.  The only possible kink in my otherwise perfect plan is the window.  It faces into the alley that we share with a convent, monastery and one other house.  Really, it hardly gets used this time of the year sans a few folks walking their dog.  Calculated risk.  I’m going for it.   Pleased with my plan, I strip down to my Hello Kitty boy shorts and tee-shirt, grab my grimy getup and head for the tub.  Of course I wouldn’t be telling you all this if it had gone off as planned.  No.  I get to the stairs and there is someone staring in my window as their dog takes, what I can only assume, is the most epic K-9 piss in the history of all dog kind.  I’m frozen, in my Hello Kitties for the longest two seconds.  I’m way past the point of no return so I take off in a sprint up the stairs realizing full well that I maybe should have given “the plan” a bit more thought.  My feet are wet despite having removed my saturated sock and they don’t pair well with the wood steps.  I fumble the ball; glance back as I pick it up, just to see the dude still standing there…still staring through my window…his dog still whizzing on my wall.   Well, he now has a storey to tell too. 

Pasqua: Easter in Italia

Sunday is Easter. 

Sometimes there are parties the night before Easter seeing as it is a Saturday night.  Sometimes you find LOTS of things to cheers to!  Sometimes you even show up dressed exactly like your buddy!  I'll drink to that!

Sometimes you have to hunt through Easter photos to find one where you don't look hungover. 

Sometimes you have to settle for the one where you look LESS hungover. 

The Italian Lenton season is ushered in with Carnevale much the way Mardi Gras does the like in America.  One of the prime locations to celebrate carnevale in Italia is Venice.  Score!  Living just an hour and a half away, we can make that happen.

You know what?  Our nations don't just share the love of big parties.  Italians and Americans both also seem to think that Easter should be celebrated with mass quantities of chocolate and sugar. 

They do their chocolate Easter Eggs a bit differently.  The Italian way involves these giant hollow chocolate eggs that have some sort of toy or what-not inside.  

I took this photo inside the Iper-coop which is our local mega store.  I was talking with my lovely Italian friend just yesterday trying to figure out if the Easter Bunny brought these eggs or some other mythical creature.  She said the tradition is for adults to give them to all the children in their lives and she would try to amass the most eggs each Easter season.

The Simpsons, appropriate for kids AND Easter.  Who knew?

Buona Pasqua!

The Edge of the World

I guess when your friends start sending you messages asking if you have fallen off the edge of the world, it's time to blog.  Time in Europe seems to be passing more quickly than corn, peanuts or asparagus.  No matter how much I have seen and done, I have found myself being very travel greedy.  Looking at maps, travel pictures, magazines, or watching National Geographic, I find myself saying, "I want to go there/see that" or "It would be awesome to go back there just one more time before we head back to the US."  There's only so much time to pack it all in, which is why I haven't blogged much lately.

February had me arriving in Vegas on Super Bowl Sunday for a ten day degenerate bender.  I was totally pumped for this poker trip.  I got deep several times, but couldn't make it rain.  Also, it appears I couldn't take any pictures.  I must have been holding out for a beauty with a big old pile of chips.  Didn't happen.  In fact, I ran so well that my girlfriend texted my at one point, "If you lose it all, I still have a $25 gift card to Olive Garden."  I love my friends!  I got to see several and even made a few new ones.  See, my luck wasn't all bad.

Days later my sista-friend, Professor Sexy came through Ferrara.  I wasn't over my jet lag by the time I kissed her goodbye and boarded a boat for Spain.

Barcelona was pretty wicked fantastic.  World architecture has always fascinated me, but getting to go play in a Gaudi's Park Guell was a fairytale.  While perhaps not as famous as his Sagrada Familia, the park seemed more congruent and natural.  The Cathedral was amazing, but the nativity and passion facades were in sharp contrast.  The drippy sand castle effect that oozed from the Gaudi directed areas end abruptly, then morph from natural to stark, oversized, and angular.  Generally, the cathedral lacked flow and consistency, something Park Guell with its undulating paths and structures achieved effortlessly.  We also got to see Casa Mila and Casa Batllo which were both breathtaking even just from street level.

Hassan II Mosque, Morocoo

We had never been to Africa.  We thought that was silly.  So we went.  We had actually booked a trip to see the Pyramids last year, but that darn Arab Spring and war in Libya thing totally ruined our plan.  Drat.  This time we went for Morocco.  Morocco is dirty.  Really dirty.  Like I-considered-throwing-away-my-clothes-at-the-end-of-the-day dirty.  If I hadn't been wearing such a darn adorable outfit, I would have.  Here's a great big mosque.  I'm not Muslim, but this mosque sounded pretty cool.  Half of this moorish building is on top of the Atlantic and portions of the floor are glass, providing views.  It is all in reference to the Qur'an verse saying, "the throne of Allah was built on water".  Amazingly, this is one of just two mosques in Morocco that lets non-muslims in...unfortunately the guide we hired sucked major couscous and took us after the last tour left.  On the bright side he didn't drive us out to the middle of nowhere...wait, yes he did.  Ok, but he didn't leave us there.  That was good.

Tenerife, Canary Islands, Spain

There are seven Canary Islands and Tenerife is the biggest of these volcanic stunners.  It was a gorgeous combination of coast lines and mountain climbs with a winery tour and lunch thrown in.  Our tour guide was great...even being from Denmark.

Funchal, Portugal

Husband works with a Portuguese guy and he gave the gouge on the local area.  He said we had to have the limpets and the poncha.  Sounds like a merry troupe of dancing leprechans.  I'm in.  Well, limpets are mussles - guess that's a normal islandy thing.  Rum drinks...also a normal islandy thing.  Poncha is a traditional drink made from cane brandy, lemon juice, and honey.  Its taste is somewhat similar to licking the floor of a night club directly after closing.  It is served in a largish juice glass without ice.  It is roughly as potent as pouring yourself a quadruple.  I didn't like the taste so I drank it quickly...ok, I chugged it.  This was followed by an almost immediate desire to dance badly and sing karaoke.  Luckily it was midday so the worst I could do was order limpets and pass out.  

Malaga, Spain

This was a pleasant surprise!  Malaga was a clean, condensed, historically preserved, charming city with horse drawn carriages and a bull ring.  Everything from ancient Roman ruins, gorgeous cathedrals, to an old castle were within walking distance.  The tapas were fabulous, but the wine tasted a bit too much like poncha for me to drink any of it.  This town was where Picasso was born and raised.  Like so many of us, he left his home town at 19 and never returned.  Regardless of his wandering ways, there was an absolutely fantastic Picasso museum with 285 works of art donated by the Picasso family.  That was one prolific dude. 

Rome, Italy  The Colosseum

We have been to Rome a bunch of times, but there's always more to do!  This trip we hit the highlights, then took extra time to tour Basilica di San Paolo Fuori le mura (or St. Paul's, outside the wall) and the Catacombs.  Wow!  I never thought touring an underground cemetary with thin, poorly supported walls would be something I'd pay for.  Turns out, pretty cool.  The catacombs were in five subterranean levels and each grave was custom carved out of the rock walls.  It was disturbing to see how many were child-sized.  I never understood how important our American freedom of religion was until I saw where so many early Christians were buried after being martyred for their beliefs.

Ivy, Professor Sexy and me :)

Upon returning from all the family travel, it was time to get away with the girls.  Me and two of my sista-friends met the very next weekend for West End shows, yummy food, sightseeing and vintage shopping in London.  Amazingly, we didn't miss the men at all...or children.  Hmm, who knew? 

In Parma, Italy

This last weekend we went on a bus trip to Parma.  We saw how Parmigiano-Reggiano is made.  Saw some Parma ham hanging around and got a lesson on traditional Balsamic vinegar. The tour guide told us that parmigiano is a good food for lactose intolerent people.  I probably should have tested that with a bit less cheese.  It was delicious, but my poor tummy hurt for two days. 

Me & Momma T in Venice, Italy

And maybe just one or two more trips back to the touristy, yet endearing town of Venice.  This trip we took time to tour the Doge's Palace, something we hadn't quite gotten around to on prior trips.  Otherwise, we spent the day popping in and out of random churches, shops and alleys.  Momma T even found a fellow Texan to speak with at lunch.  The Americans in Venice likely outnumber the Venetians by tenfold.


Turns out I haven't fallen off the edge of the world, but I have done my part to find it!

Oh, and no worries - I've still found time for poker and baking  :)

Pompeii

Pompeii

Travels with Kelly

Me hanging out in the Forum

My sweet and sassy sista friend has to make a choice between seeing Pompeii and Naples.  Seeing as I have been to both I thought it might be fun to do blog posts on the two cities to help her choose.  

 

I was blown away by Pompeii. Sure, I had briefly studied Pompeii as a kid, and caught the odd documentary, but nothing prepared me for the experience. The first thing that completely blew me away was the size. I don’t know exactly why, but I was under the impression that Pompeii was much smaller. It wasn’t. It was absolutely overwhelmingly large.

The second thing that caught me off guard was the degree of preservation. A large portion of the walls still retained portions of paint. Statues stood where they had centuries ago. Tile floors remained more or less where the home owners had installed them. The streets were largely in good enough repair to be used today. It was unbelievable. It was eerie. It was unbelievably eerie.

This is the first view after you buy tickets.  The archeologists say that this would have been access to the sea which is pretty unbelievable because that means a whole lot of real estate has been added since Pompeii was an active city.

Here we are in one of the bakeries.  There really isn’t much that needs left to the imagination.  The top stone rotated (by the animal or slave force) over the fixed lower stone to grind the grain.  You can still see where the sticks would have been installed in the top stones.  The bread would rise in one area then be placed in ovens for baking.    These photos were taken in three separate bakeries found throughout the town.

 

The back story:  It was more or less a normal day in Pompeii in 79AD.  There was a lot of renovation going on because there had been an earthquake in 62AD and in typical fashion...it was taking a while.  People were shopping, eating, working, planning…doing the same things we do today.  Out of nowhere, Mount Vesuvius started erupting.  The citizens were shocked and confused because Vesuvius had been deemed an extinct in 20AD and therefore no threat whatsoever.  Well, as we all know, that was a slight miscalculation.  The volcano erupted with such ferocity that the top of the mount collapsed making the caldera you see today.   Pompeii wasn’t the only city affected, nor is it the only excavated city you can visit.  It has been relatively simple for excavation though and because of that majority of the city is uncovered and open for exploration.  Large sections still remain under roughly six meters of settled ash and excavation continues.

Me and the bimbi where justice was dispensed.

The Forum was once the center of town. Now, this was an always expanding city of some 20,000 residents, so there were other areas that functioned somewhat similarly. There were several areas scattered about that had cashes of pottery and statuary. These were once used to hold grain and goods for sale.

Inside the Roman Baths

 The chariots all had standard wheel bases and the streets were flooded daily for washing.  stone were raised periodically to act as stepping stones.

Random family photo

The Amplitheater

Legand has it that the peopel behaved badly and they got their games taken away from them for TEN YEARS!  But just three years later everyone was devastated by the earthquake so he lifted the ban.

This is not the amplitheater, but I can't remember what it is :)

This is the best example of an Ipluvium that I have a photo of.  Implouviums were sort of standard in Greek or Roman homes of this period and were placed in the atrium to collect rain water from the roof. 

Roo and Rex were amazing explorers

REX!

The Theater

This is one of theaters where plays and what not would be preformed

There are lights, row numbers and seat numbers installed.  I seem to recall something about Pink Floyd performing in Pompeii in the 70's, but I seriously thought it was just an album title...could have happened.  This really makes a metal fest at a Ferrari race track seem pretty lame.

The Walls

There were tons of Frescos on walls from a bunch of different periods.  Pompeii had been developing for centeries.  It had been ruled by all sorts of different folks and influenced by even more cultures through its port.  The art is broken into four styles ranging from nearly kindergarten basic through pretty darn advanced.  This is an example of Style II known as perspective architecture. 

 This is a great example of Style III or Real Wall Style.  I snapped this shot when we hiked out to Villa Dei Misteri.  All the land inside the city walls had been pretty much spoken for so amazing places started popping up a bit further out.  This villa was still amazing today despite having been covered in ashe for centeries.

Bit more Style II

 A clear example of Type I painting

This has nothing to do with painting styles, but there is an intact add on the side of this place!  One of the houses we visited had an add for borders of its exterior.

The people of Pompeii

The people of Pompeii were caught so off guard by the eruption that they were literally stopped in their tracks.  The citizens were covered by a thick layer of ash and suffocated.  During one of the excavations an archeologist came upon a hollow.  They decided to cast the hollow with plaster before continuing.  This produced the horrifyingly tragic plaster people.  I’m not sure how I feel about this.  I’m not a fan of displaying dead for public scrutiny.  Mummies in museums seem inherently wrong as does displaying the man who was frozen in ice.  These aren’t people, but their terrified or protective body language is nothing if not human.  Although most everything decomposed, traces of bone can be seen in some casts which I found more than a little disturbing.

Man's Best Friend

Dogs were prevalent in Pompeii when it was a bustling city and this too remains.  The only full time residents are comfortable in their town.

This is a reproduction replacing the origional that was taken to museum.  The subject was taken from a famous painting of the time.  It is hard to communicate size sometimes in photos.  This piece was enormous; however, the stone bits were very tiny to get that sort of detail.

A lot of amazing mosaic floors remain visible.  Some of Pompeii’s best is maintained at the Archeological Museum in Naples (reproductions are in place for these), but the remainder is authentic and amazingly well preserved.  Here are a few choice examples:

This is one of the most iconic images of Pompeii mosaic.  The words read "Cave Canem" or when translated, "Beware of the Dog".  This is my photo and not the clearest, but you can see crystal clear versions of this image all over the web.

A second very dirty mosaic with K-9 imagry

 This one is sort of twisted if you speak English...as all five of my readers do.  It is at the entrace of an AMAZING villa that takes up an ENTIRE city block.  The inscription is "HAVE" which the residents clearly were part of the "have" rather than the "have not".  The language of the day was not English though, so it bears translating. It is a spelling variant of Ave which means "hail"

Let's Eat!

There is always something that I get hung up on when we are visiting any new place.  Here it was the restaurants.  The common citizen lived in a very small house without a kitchen.  Scattered throughout the town were all these sort of lunch counters or the modern equivalent of fast food places.  They all sort of followed the same basic format – there was a counter with large clay pots built in.  The pots would hold a variety of foods like olives and wine.  Some of the places had more or less a grill to go along.  Fascinating and charming.  I couldn’t pass a single one without snapping a photo or two.

This one still ahs the origional writing on the facade

This one was the best preserved that we found

This was the best preserved that we found.  My book identified it as Thermopolium Of The Lararium .  No idea what that means, but the book says the art found in this area contained Mercury (the god of commerce) and Dionysus (the god of wine).  How fitting.  When they excavated this place, there were coins still in the till.

a second view