Not Released From Customs

Happy birthday to you, Caramel.


The day of your birthday is almost always a feast day. It 's like once a year, each of us, he deserved to be the center of your world.
So, I want to take this attention to dedicate this My day to a person who did not know, basically a complete stranger, but who really deserves our best wishes, although thirty years ago, celebrated his last birthday with his family without knowing that it would be the last. Who knows what

"ashamed" that distant day of February 1980 Monica and her two sisters. Their father, Carmelo, probably spent, as usual, his day that led to the hotel in a village in the province of Palermo, near the sea. Sea that belongs to the life of Monica, which means that blue eyes are the mirror of his soul.
One thing is sure: they could not imagine - none of us probably imagine - that this was the last birthday of his father in this world.

"They were dark years of the '80s, defined the years of lead. In those years, the silence was a necessary condition for those who lived in Sicily and contrary to this condition meant signing their death sentence. Carmelo Jann was a man idealist, he loved being around people and that is why he chose a job that allowed him contact with all types of
culture. One day the police came to him asking him to contribute to the investigation proceedings. The investigators were on traces of certain chemicals that Marseille were in charge of refining the drug and were in Palermo to teach the techniques of the local chemical refining, and just staying in the hotel in Caramel Jann. The police asked if they could enter in the hotel dressed as hotel staff, in order to better follow their movements and also check their rooms, Caramel accepted, and these days police followed their every move, their every conversation and searched the their rooms. After days of investigation, 24 August 1980, the same policemen who had infiltrated the hotel, his face uncovered, made a raid on a villa in Trabia (PA), site of a refinery, to arrest them all, and with great surprise also found a fugitive Mafia boss in those years was much feared Gerlando Alberti senior (known as "slap u"). It was the boss, after only 3 days to make, from prison, the mandate to kill Caramel Jann. It was a hot August afternoon, it was 15:30, two boys entered the hotel, they saw in the lobby of the hotel and fired pistol shots to the heart and head, janna Caramel fell to the ground and died. He left his wife and three daughters, aged 11, 16 and 18 years. "(Source: http://www.familiarivittimedimafia.com)

I" met "Monica, her daughter, thanks to that damn wonderful tool that is Facebook. Very soon he told me his story, the story of his father.
opened my eyes to a reality that many Italians, Sicilians even us, we do not know. We line up to commemorate the "heroes" dead killed by the Mafia. But the history of our Earth is bathed with tears of blood of all those little "big" every day heroes who sacrificed their lives for the ideals that many of us seem absurd, inconceivable. The more we believe our precious life, the less we are willing to risk it for a better future.

Carmelo Ianni is a small "BIG" hero that we must not forget. Not brave enough judges, not corrupt politicians and businessmen to save clean Sicily and throughout Italy. It takes "people." And when, in line with their principles, sacrifice their lives, it's up to other men not to forget them.
Today I dedicate "my day" to him. Maybe there'll be celebrating, in that place there, in front of a beautiful Sicilian Cassata without candles as the years because there are countless more. And maybe make the next photo with all the other heroes who never stop rooting for us, who still want a free land, a land better. From today, my birthday will be his. Worth a lot more holidays than they do to me.

"There are choices driven only by the soul, to fully understand. Examples of baggage that they know that the collective should be. Imagine a country as ours, where stories like his are in everyday life require schools to be model because nobody is called to have to do hero, because normality is acknowledged in a public spirit of sharing. Thank you, Mr. Jann also now know that another piece of heritage feared lost. Federica Menciotti.

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blah blah blah


Politicians: blah blah blah. Trade unionists: blah blah blah. The employer: blah blah blah. Sanremo: blah blah blah. Television: blah blah blah. The Radio: blah blah blah. Internet: blah blah blah. Facebook: blah blah blah. At the bar: blah blah blah. It 's all a blah blah blah.
For some time I turned off the Tv The politician did not feel it. syndicalism do not talk about. The employer, unfortunately, I can not remove it because if you do not have an employer, you do not even work. Sanremo do not know even what it is. The iPod has finally closed the era of radio. Internet has the virus. Facebook is "cu sa person can sing." At the bar within the IPod. The same one that ended the era of radio. Everything becomes less blah blah blah.
This world does not seem to have nothing more to say. Yet all talk, talk, talk. But in reality, the only sensible thing to say, still is Nature.
get in a car only to return to the more primitive. Stop the engine and get out. Stay deafened by the silence, a silence that can be heard. Million different notes, one respectful of the other. The perfectly matched one another. Nature is a continuous concert.
The light sea breeze caresses you, the succession of waves crashing on the shore you cradle the sun's rays kiss you, Life embraces you.
You look around and see the Lord. That takes care of his Wife, Nature.
Man is overstated. Think, is an illusion, even fear, to dominate or destroy Nature. But you, merciful and wise, like a patient mother before the whims of his beloved, he continues to love, to excite, to play the soundtrack of our lives. From time to time by a slap, sometimes makes fun of us, others are raging.
But the Lord kisses and cheers. And remember that a mother can feed billions of children, but billions of children do not know how to take care of a single mom.

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Introducing Meli-Melo: sewing hook and so on and so forth!


The search for blog candy giveaway and has become for me a very simple tool to discover new worlds.
blogger Worlds, worlds of women who have always shared something magical and special.
Yes, because every woman is hidden in a fantastic world to discover. A world unto itself that, not sexism, no man can ever understand.
Every woman has within itself a pair of wings, someone tries to take off, someone else falls and gets up with difficulty, and some still do not ever try to fly.
But each of us, however, those wings, he knows them. Apart from the digression
"winged", in my research I came across a blog cute and colorful, full of ideas, offering delicious and very well done tutorial. The blog is
Vannalisa which is a mine of ideas.
A person "colored" I like it!
You too can participate in its giveaway

necessary for grabs by a splendid job. You have until March 6! Flocked!

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Fifty years ago, a portrait of today ... I'm

was the summer of 1960 when Leonardo Sciascia wrote probably the first real story about the "mafia". Fifty years have passed by this summer but "The Day of the Owl," in some respects, is very much alive. Certainly not to hurt anyone, then I think the best way to understand what I speak of the story contains several passages. You take the court.

"The people, the people ... The people were horned and horned remains: the difference is that fascism hung a flag only to the horns of the people and democracy that everyone leaves when the hang itself, the color he likes to say with their horns ... due respect for humanity ... A forest of horns, humanity, the thickest of the wood of the forest when he was really Ficuzza. And you know who made merry for a walk on the horns? First, keep it in mind: the priests and second: the politicians, and the more they say they are with the people, the good will of the people, the more your feet fall on the horns, third: those like me and you ... and 'True, there is the risk of placing the footing and be impaled, both for me and for the priests and politicians, but even if I'm in tears, a horn is always a horn on his head and the wearer is a cuckold ... satisfaction, the blood of God The satisfaction I go wrong, I die, but you are a cuckold ...

... You should surprise people in the hideout of the non-tax purposes, as in America. But not only people like Mariano Arena, and not just here in Sicily. We should all of a sudden fall on banks; skilled hands to put in the accounts, usually with a double bottom, large and small companies, review the registers. And all those foxes, old and new who are sniffing around to waste their political ideas or trends or meetings of the more restless members of that great family which is the regime, and behind the neighbors of the family, and behind the enemies of the family, it would be best put to sniff around the mansions, cars set out, the wives, lovers of certain officials: the signs of wealth, and compare salaries, and pull the right way. Only in this way men like Don Mariano begin to miss the ground under their feet ... In any other country in the world, tax evasion as the one I'm finding is severely punished: Don Mariano here he laughs, he knows he does not take long to evading ...

... I - went on Don Mariano - I have some practice in the world, and we say that humanity, and we fill our mouths to say humanity, beautiful word, full of wind, divided into five categories: men, the mezz'uomini, the ominicchi, i (with all due respect) and pigliainculo quaquaraquà ... Very few men; mezz'uomini the few that I be content to stop with mezz'uomini humanity ... But no, still falls below, ominicchi to: they are like children who believe themselves to large, monkeys that do the same moves of the great ... And further down: the pigliainculo, which are becoming And finally ... an army quaquaraquà: who should live like ducks in the puddles, that their life has no more sense and more an expression of the ducks ...

... Incredible is also Italy: and you have to go Sicily is amazing to see how Italy ...

... He stopped suddenly and said to a young woman who came to meet them smiling, "You are amazing too: beautiful ..."

"What, too? And the other who is? "

" Sicily ... Donna herself, mysterious, implacable, vindictive, and beautiful ... "

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with Father Charles and Anthony, regardless


About two months ago I spoke with Antonio De Carlo. The director of Archè was doing a service for a special on Christmas. And of course, when you think about the Christian celebration par excellence by betting on its main meaning - giving to others, the first thought is underway at Forest Minniti, to his parish, his volunteers and his priest. And so I witnessed, armed with camera interview. That is really quickly becoming a story. Rich in anecdotes and trivia, love and sacrifice. Full of humanity.

Father Charles has always been a "different" in this land of stereotypical people focused only on themselves. They call him the priest of the border: the pews of the church transformed into a bed, a reference point for the many needy who pass by Syracuse and for those who, despite everything, I remain. I have always been fundamentally affected the courage to literally interpret the Gospel: his church is really an open door on the street. That morning at Bosco

Minniti, Antonio De Carlo hinted that their sincere willingness in some trouble might entail. So much so that they were forced to refuse to accommodate immigrants. The law just passed in Parliament in some way, tied the hands of welcome to those who had made a reason for living. The fact that until then, the same police headquarters in Syracuse, send immigrants find refuge in Don Carlo did not matter anymore. Something was changing.

the morning of February 9, everything has changed. Or maybe nothing has changed. Father Carlo D'Antoni, and Mr. Antonio De Carlo. Aldo Valtimora domicialiari under arrest on charges of conspiracy to aiding of Unlawful stay of foreigners in the territory of the Italian state, false ideology of documents and making false statements to a public official. The investigation, initially coordinated by the Public Prosecutor of Syracuse, then from the District Anti-Mafia Directorate of Catania, revolving around an alleged criminal organization had its own logistics base in the parish of Forest Minniti.

But I'm with Father Charles and Anthony. I'm with them regardless. I can not imagine, even for a moment, that their heart has been thought to exploit the "last" of this world. And if, in a moment of weakness, fatigue, despair - because these are the feelings that accompany you when hundreds of desperate people asking you to eat and you do not know him, because these are the feelings you get when hundreds of desperate people have no where to sleep and you can just give your home, your church - if at that moment have given, I prefer to give my sympathy to them and not to those with power, sells his soul the devil.

the morning of February 9, everything has changed. Or maybe nothing has changed. Because the hearts of those like Father Charles of estimated Antonio De Carlo, will continue to support them. They who support the disadvantaged, immigrants, the desperate and have made the reason for their existence. But when the "good" sow love sprout anyway. To all those who today express their proximity to the "priest of the border" and its inseparable "volunteer" to continue the task of watering the land of "brotherhood."

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Love is in the air! My polymer clay creations

Valentine's Day, all the love is coming, and all around is a riot of red, hearts, kisses Tickets and love!


So tonight, I turned the idea of \u200b\u200bpreparing a small cadeau for my boyfriend.
A white pillow with a heart on it.

Needed: white cloth (I was at the disposal of pannolenci)
petals of fabric

Needle and thread hot glue.

I cut the cloth to size with my pillow, and I sewed my sides, then I turned over the fabric and hot glue I started to attack the petals one by one, giving the shape of a heart. Estimated time 15-30 minutes for the project.
Now the kitchen is on my couch to remind us that ... "Love is in the air, everywhere I look around ...!!"
For now I'm limited to the pillow. If you want to have some other
ideuzza for your or your Valentine Valentina, you can take a look at the site Bread love and creativity

The website of Linda, many ideas on how to celebrate worthily love, especially if no spending much.
is also a wonderful video tutorial on how to create a great business for the occasion.

And then especially to you, in love with love, I want to wish a sweet Valentine's Day. With love from Marcella

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silent heroes


Today is World Day against cancer, but in reality I would like another the day: one dedicated to those who fight - every day, at any time - against this evil that takes away every year 7 million people. The protagonists, the real heroes, they are: all those doctors who accompany every moment of their lives of the unfortunate guests to a tumor in their journey toward healing and, unfortunately, often to death.

know one of these doctors, I know him as if it were a single part of me. E 'Sicilian but works in the Marche. Nothing strange, is the norm that a good doctor does not work in the Sicilian schizophrenic health of the island.
I had first hand experience as part of his life, perhaps the whole life itself, is dedicated to his "patients". Not call them friends because considers necessary to protect the essential clarity that a relationship is too intimate risk undermining. But I heard that for him, in fact, are part of his family.

I have not known anyone to start work with his serenity, his peace. You see her in the eye, touches the air. Fully aware of what it means for a person, often "terminally ill", breathe the scent of life, good life, he has tuned its frequencies on the positive gives us the world. It tells it like it is, no beating about the bush. "An enemy fights only if you know it, well and without shadows . But from that moment of desperation then begins to build a new life for his client. And in reality, even for him. Is inextricably linked to them. Begin a new journey, and they do it together.

struck me when I explained that it is never a journey toward death. Even for those who can not can do it. Many times lives of those who see the end more than those who think they can do it all tomorrow and in the meantime, nothing does.
I've heard to answer the phone late in the evening because sometimes, a common flu, it causes anguish to his patients. And without batting an eyelid, stopped the discussion on the major issues in the world with myself, gets to speak with one of his "friends" of aspirin, thermometers and hot water. Then return to sit on the carpet and pick up where we left off. Quietly, peacefully.

Earn less of a family doctor. But it certainly is a hundred times happier. It seems almost not wanting to ask anything more to his life. Indeed, something I know ask, back in Sicily. But who knows, maybe one of his trips will do it alone and just towards Siracusa.
Today is his day, one of his colleagues, one of his patients. Today is the day silent heroes lost in the din of this world gone mad.