It’s been a while since my last blog post! You may be wondering what happened. What happened is that I have a newly designed website and it took many intense hours to pull it together. I’m hoping this blog post will reach my subscribers. (I’m also hoping you will have a look at my website frangallo.com). I was disconnected from my subscribers for a month and so my wish is to be reconnected with all of you! We will soon find out if all is back to normal when I hit the heart-pumping PUBLISH button.

And I just got back from Indiana, where I was born and grew up. Going to Indiana is like going back to the cradle. My sisters, brother-in-law, nieces, nephews, and cousins welcome me back wholeheartedly. Every day with them feels like a celebration.

August in the Midwest seems like the worst time to have competed in a duathlon with my nephew, but there you have it. That’s exactly what I did in Chicago. We cooked up this plan last October and we followed through with it last Sunday! And I got to spend a few days with my nephew, his wife, and his adorable kids at their house.

Jake-the-Bombay-Kitten. Panther-like in so many ways, he playfully stalks the children around the house. I love this cat!

Prairie flowers welcome me at Chuck and Erin’s house!

Summertime in Chicago and NW Indiana is hot and humid. The day of our race was no exception. Having lived in Seattle for the last 27 years, I have lost my tolerance for the humidity of the Midwest.  Even so, taking part in the triathlon was a great experience. I was so thrilled and proud of myself to have done better than I expected. I had imagined the possibility of blacking out in the 96 degree heat, but that didn’t happen. Instead, I finished the race with some new wisdom: never ever doubt what you can do.  The triathlon started at 7am and I finished before 9am. The strong heat of the day had not yet begun. I loved riding and running with my nephew and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Nephew Chuck and me below. We are 14 years apart:

Sweaty and Over-Heated Champs!

After the triathlon, I headed to Valparaiso. There are many strip malls and mega-stores in NW Indiana, but there are also vast acres of cornfields. Valparaiso is a university town. It has a thriving downtown area with some handsome historical buildings, very nice restaurants, wine bars, breweries, and shops. Downtown has an outdoor public area for summer concerts and winter skating. As we drove along country roads in my sister’s convertible, our hair flying wildly in the hot summer wind, we passed old farm houses and new subdivisions, and thin stands of black oaks. Weeping willows dot the landscape and drape across lush green lawns. I notice the lawns are perfect and I think perhaps the lowly dandelion has been eradicated in this part of the world.

I sat in my sister’s screened-in porch late at night and watched the fireflies light up the night sky. Lightning bugs is what I called them growing up. I have always loved them. Late into the night, we talked. It seems there is no end to our family stories, our memories of mom, dad, and Jeanie. Every year adds to the volumes of memories lived and cherished. Together, we pulled up the old Sicilian words and expressions mom and dad used to say. Together, we remembered them. “Cuatolati! Bundle up!”, mom would say to us in the winter as we got ready to confront a blast of cold arctic air.

It is soothing and healing to be with my sisters who have known me since the day I was born and who have always loved me. “I am so lucky” I kept thinking to myself as I sat with my sisters, feeling their love, watching the pink sunsets, listening to the cicadas and crickets singing deeply into the night.

Nora and John’s screened in porch.

Indiana! There are the dunes of Lake Michigan, the bursts of summer rain showers, the lightning and thunder loud enough to shake the house and wake me up from a deep sleep! Cardinals, finches, and swallowtail butterflies flit across my field of vision. Conservative folk, friendly folk, church-going folk, working-class folk, next-door neighbors with a ferocious fenced-in barking dog and plastic flamingos that light up at night, the fabric of this tapestry is colorful. This is the Indiana I know and admire. It has not changed very much since I lived here so long ago. I have changed, but I am still warmly welcomed.

Black-Eyed Susans, Rose of Sharon, hibiscus larger than my head, yellow prairie flowers, and sunflowers dazzle the eye. The farmers’ market is filled with the sweetest watermelon and gorgeous squash. The watermelon makes me think of my mother, who craved it when she was pregnant with me. The squash reminds me of my father, who grew so many in his garden that he had to give most of them away to his lucky neighbors.

I was tightly embraced in Indiana’s arms. The summer heat melted away months of tension in my body. Together with my family, I ate, I drank, I laughed. We reminisced and the memories we drew upon quenched my thirst. We enjoyed each others’ company. And then, I came back to my other home, my home of 27 years, Seattle.

Valparaiso murals. The postman in this mural is my sister’s postman!

Nora’s table laden with desserts, ready for our cousins to come over for a visit.