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Tag Archives: being Italian
I’m in my friend’s gourmet store. He’s ordered pizza for his whole staff. A masked woman comes in, her Louis Vuitton opened with a Yorkie, that could fit in your purse, peeking out. She lowers her mask and sniffs the … Continue reading
An old Italian gentleman lived alone in New Jersey . He wanted to plant his annual tomato garden, but it was very difficult work, as the ground was hard. His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in … Continue reading
I grew up on the second floor of a two-family house, while my Italian grandparents occupied the first. I’ve written a lot about my grandfather who was the love of my life, but my grandmother stays tucked in the shadows … Continue reading
My grandfather would always say, “Andare a sedersi al sole Susanina,” that in Italian means, go sit in the sun Susannah. In Tuscany, where he hailed, the sun was a remedy for all ills, so it didn’t much matter what … Continue reading
It’s funny how scent evokes memory. This morning as I entered the park I got a massive whiff of freshly cut grass. When I gazed in the distance Dog Hill was being mowed in perfectly even sections. Made me think … Continue reading