Susan, The Night Watchman

All told, there are probably 16 doors in this villa we're renting in Taormina, each with its own key and locking mechanism--Susan has them all memorized. She also holds the code for the giant ornate metal gate which frequently slams shut with the wind, locking everyone out. Susan is sister number 3 and each night keeps us in lock-down mode, safe from invaders and conquering Romans.
Today, we visited Trecastagni, the small city where my mother's mother and father were born. Trecastagni is known for its almonds and citrus fruits and does indeed sit in a lush, agricultural landscape. But to get there, about 1 and 1/2 hours from Taormina, we had to drive the 2 big Fiats we had rented, something that pushes us all close to the limit of tolerance, family or not. Mostly so for Susan who I think secretly wants to be the driver but whose name is not on the rental agreement--so she's relegated to backseat driver status, and is really good at it! Fortunately, after getting lost yet again getting out of Taormina, we're all still friends. Debbie, sister number 4, whose name IS on the rental agreement, had decided early on to give up driver staus all together. So Joyce, sister number 1, was recruited (even though, in Susan's opinion, Joyce shouldn't be driving a stick shift!). Are you following this...

So, off we went to Trecastagni, in two cars, mine with a Tom-Tom, the other with 4 women who had no idea where they were going only that they needed to follow my car, in search of our long, lost relatives. Naturally, we got separated and spent the better part of the morning trying to meet up at the main church in Trecastagni. I arrived at one "main" church, and (you guessed it) the other car arrived at an entirely different main church (they were both gray). As we tried to hone in on each others locations, with the help of cell phones, we passed several other main-looking gray churches--which of course was the problem.

My mother's mother's maiden name is Petralia--a name that shouldn't be too difficult to track down we thought.

Little did we know that not only is the mayor of Trecastagni a Petralia, but so is about 5% of the population. Without detailed information on births and deaths it would be next to impossible to track down another Petralia. The very sympathetic officials at the Municipio told us we'd have to return another day.

But we managed to salvage the day with a relaxed dinner back at the villa, with plenty of the local Nero d'avola, and a lot of laughs.
Lungamente vive la famiglia!