Friday, January 05, 2007


The view from the front of my house today at 1 pm reminds me of Italy. Not sun-drenched beaches. Nope, not cobblestone roads either. Fog! See:

Many of you are probably wondering why fog would remind me of Italy. My family comes from a town called Novara in the Piedmont region. The name of Novara derives from Nubilaria, meaning "city wrapped in fog". If you are more interested in the region, check here. The name is totally apt. The fogs in this region are legendary. You cannot see the hand at the end of your arm in the fogs they get and they last for days. I am not exaggerating. Grandma used to tell us a story about one night when she and grandpa were driving home in the fog. Very slowly, because grandpa couldn't see where he was going. So grandma had the passenger side window open and her head stuck out the side so she could watch the yellow line painted at the side of the road to make sure they didn't veer off into the ditch! This was always accompanied with gleeful shouts of "right, right, right, no LEFT LEFT !" We loved this story as kids.

It is a bit scarier to actually be driving in it. Those of you who have driven in a blizzard are familiar with the term "white-out", right? Well, that's what happens in fog too. Your headlights get bounced back at you something ferocious.

So today is reminiscent of that fog. Only because we still have the fog at 1pm, not because it is a pea soup fog. Thank goodness.