Happy Birthday to both my Dad and my little sister Gerry, who share a birthday today.  My Dad is 93 and still charging forward. My precious sister Gerry has gone through a lot of changes lately and has proven herself to be a girl of grit and gumption. She always has been the Doris Day of the family, this beam of cheer and optimism, still looking like a beautiful girl, not the mother of 4  kids, juggling their care along with 2 horses,  and at one point 4 dogs. She has renovated her house nearly single-handedly, doing everything from painting to carpentry. She has a fabulous eye for design; her rooms are beautiful and livable. And now she is making a business out of it.  I am full of admiration for her.

They are celebrating their birthdays with my brother Billy and his wife Ann in Chicago, where my  Dad moved (aged 91) into the same fabulous apartment building as Billy. There was a moment today when I stood still and thought, isn’t tecnology amazing. Billy messaged me from a busy restaurant in the middle of Chicago, I wrote back from the back part of our garden, just at the edge of the woods, listening to the sound of a deer barking fiercely (yes deer bark) from those woods, while our church bells chimed out the hour. It was this thread of communication, vital and instant, connecting two such different worlds.

Here is my back garden, where this friendly fox often comes down from the woods and to sit and visit.
The view from Chicago, with Gerry’s son taking a photo from the terrace of Billy and Ann’s 78th floor apartment.

Yes, it’s another Festa, but this one really makes satisfying sense. Giuseppe is Joseph in English,  and this day celebrating St. Joseph is Father’s Day. Here in this Catholic canton of Ticino, it is a holiday. All schools and shops are closed, but church doors are open for the Holy Mass which took place in every village here. I am part of our little church choir, and today we sang a hymn in San Giuseppe’s honor: One of the stanzas is: “O Padre prudentissimo,/ esempio di sapienza,/ conserva in tutti gli uomini/ giustizia ed innocenza” Oh prudent Father, example of wisdom, preserve in all mankind, justice and innocence.
I was thinking of Wordsworth’s description: “Father! to God himself we cannot give a holier name.” As my husband Giancarlo and I are joined in “holy matrimony”, there does seem to be a sacred nature to the role of Father. Our village priest in his homily today spoke of ‘generating descendants’. Giancarlo has done that with the birth of our two sons, and he has generated a heritage of love and honor, generosity and care.

I always have said that I am so proud to be known as Dr. Zeiler’s daughter. I praise and honor my father, for whom I hold nothing but the highest respect and love and admiration. He worked his way through medical school playing jazz piano, which sums up the marvelous complexity of his personality: the scientific, intellectual, perfectionist high achiever who has the swinging soul of a jazz pianist. He has given all of us, we 5 siblings, such an example of constant love and generosity, constant learning and curiosity, constant drive and dedication, constant determination and diligence. He rose to the top of his profession, becoming President of the American College of Pathologists and then the President of the World Association of Societies of Pathology & Laboratory Medicine. Even now, at 92, he keeps up with all his medical journals as well as The New York Times, the Economist, the Atlantic, the Wall Street Journal. And he always is ready and eager to help when help is needed. I stayed with him in his home in Chicago in November; early one morning I found him at his desk, in his bathrobe, poring over a medical book looking for possible solutions to a close friend’s medical dilemma. His only regret is that my Mother is not here to share his life; she died 23 years ago and that is his, and our, sorrow.

My father’s parents were such loving, solid souls, deeply rooted in religion. I have a card that my Grandmother sent me for my Birthday, the message is that God is Love. We are descendants of love and we carry that forth. To the Fathers in my life, I am grateful.

The traditional Fiera di San Provino took place this week in a blessedly beautiful period of mild temperatures and sunshine. We have had months of rain, with only an occasional day of sun inbetween, so to have had this four day Festa take place  under consistently sunny skies seemed like a miracle.

Like nearly all village events in Switzerland, the Fiera di San Provino dates back centuries. It began in the 15th century as a way to mark the transition from Winter to Spring, and it has its roots as both a religious and agricultural celebration. One version of the San Provino origin has it that the market aspect took on a bigger role centuries ago when the main market in Lugano was closed due to fear of the plague and animal- spread contagion. Therefore the market was transferred outside of the city to Agno.

The religious aspect of the Fiera still remains; the Santa Messa, holy Mass, is held late Saturday afternoon, followed by a procession through the town center with the busta di San Provino, a wooden box apparently containing a piece of bone from Saint Provino. This year the Sunday Mass was officiated by our new Bishop Valerio.

But for the hundreds that attend the 4 day fair, it is all the other attractions which draw their attendence. Food is chief among them.
Befitting its lakeside location, pesciolini fritti, fried little fish, is one of the most popular and traditional food choices, with long lines of people waiting to get their box of fish.

It really is a celebration of Ticino traditions, with a variety of products exhibited, from cheese and salami to hand-carved wooden objects.
But what would a Fiera di San Provino be without its most famous item: Ravioli di San Provino!
You only get them once a year at the Fair, and it is a top-secret recipe. They are a sweet, fried ravioli, with a filling revealed only as containing amaretti, prunes and cedro, a citrus type fruit. Served hot and sprinkled with powdered sugar, one bites into the crunch of the pasta and on into the soft, sweet filling. I’ve never tasted anything like them; they’re fantastic.

Of course there must be amusements for the children.
A good time was had by all. There was lots of talking, laughing, looking, eating, and even listening – to the great band which added just the right jolly note.

My neighbor, Edoardo, known to family and friends as Dado, took advantage of an unusually Spring-like day to begin his work on our vines. As he separates and holds one branch at a time, he explains to me that he is cutting away last year’s growth to make way for the new growth this coming year as well as the year after. So with a clip of his cutters, the heavy, gnarled branch which had yielded plump purple grapes last September is cut and put aside.  Tilting his head in assessment, he assuredly cuts away all the other smaller vines which surround the few that he has selected to keep.  He then positions those promising branches for this year and next year, stretching them out along the supporting wire, taking a step back to make sure that he has left them enough space to grow.  “Ieri, oggi e domani” , yesterday, today and tomorrow, he says as he works the vines, seemingly holding time in his hands.

The beginning of Lent always causes me to pause and reflect, to push a little deeper, to think a little harder. My twin sister Mary sent me an e-mail on Ash Wednesday with a passage from the Catholic nun Sister Joan Chittister, who wrote: ” Lent is the opportunity to change what we ought to change but have not…Lent is about becoming, doing and changing whatever it is that is blocking the fullness of life in us right now…Lent is a summons to live anew…Lent is the time to let life in again, to rebuild the worlds we’ve allowed to go sterile, to “fast and weep and mourn” for the goods we’ve foregone. If our own lives are not to die from lack of nourishment, we must sacrifice the pride or the sloth or the listlessness that blocks us from beginning again. Then, as Joel (2:12-18) promises, God will have pity on us and pour into our hearts the life we know down deep that we are lacking. ”

So just as Dado with a snip cut away last year, looking to future growth, so will I push forward, with a renewed lenten recognition of the underlying support which my faith provides.