Archive for the ‘love’ Category
an abundance of love
So much love around here these days, I just have to share it.
For the past few days, my grandmother’s first cousin from America has been visiting with her childhood friend who also happens to have roots here. This was the first time either of them had visited the birthplace of their mothers, and it was such a pleasure to be able to share my new (to them) Italian life.
Together, we spent time with P and his parents and talked about old family memories, all while looking at old black and white photos that I had never seen (which may explain my recent obsession with the colorless versions of my own pictures)…and also never-before-seen-by-me footage of P as a baby and young lad. Too cute!
I’ll be able to share more of our time together as photos become available (I borrowed a digital but not the cable to upload–argh!), so in the meantime, you’ll just have to accept some other images of love that I captured recently.
I almost stepped on this heart in the pavement of a nearby agriturismo
(but instead stopped to take a photo).
And there’s just nothing like sisterly love.
Happy Love Thursday everyone!
—————
[tags]love thursday, dogs, hearts, love[/tags]
buon compleanno mia!
Mia Rose and her stinky toes,
Green/blue eyes, and button nose.
Princess gowns, tiaras, and sparkly heels,
Cheerleading skirts, bracelets, and ear-piercing squeals.
Cornsilky blond hair pulled back in a pony,
Your birthday dinner will be delicious with Nana’s macaroni.
Eight years you’re here, from baby to young girl,
They’ve passed like a blur–an awesome pink whirl.
I wish you many happy things for the coming year,
That breeze you feel? It’s me–I’m near!
My favorite niece you’ll always be,
Even though they say you’re just a little pujie.*
(drawing by P’s niece, Sara, age 9.)
Happy, happy birthday and first day of school!
Baci e abbracci
Aunt Shell
*Family joke. My grandmother used to call something smelly a “pujack” which she told us was a smelly goat; it’s been shortened for Mia, because, you know, she’s little and all.
Eleven Years Ago Today…
I was working at a certain family amusement park, passing out laser guns and explaining why it’s not appropriate to hit people in the darkness of the game room, when from the corner of my eye I noticed my brother–in blue hospital scrubs carrying something blue in his hand– and my mother–bearing fried food–approaching.
I knew this surprise family visit, capped by my brother’s beaming (and I do mean *beaming*) face could only mean one thing:
I had a nephew.
My sister-in-law had called the night before to say her water broke and that she was going to the hospital, but that bouncing baby boy didn’t make an appearance until after one in the afternoon the following day.
And since then he’s provided countless smiles, laughs, hugs, and kisses as well as the all-important concept of “hugging you down,” a bear hug/tackle best carried out on the floor and with a running start.
Some of my fondest memories involve my nephew, my now-deceased grandfather, who was sure that he was the only one that could get the little guy to sleep (he was right for a while there) and Kit-Kats, which Pap insisted were not candy because of the wafers involved (that made them cookies, and OK to give him darn it!).
I can’t believe eleven years have passed since that wonderful day when you taught me that I really was a “baby person” after all. Amazing what a cooing smile can do.
And so to Michael, my favorite nephew, I wish you a happy, happy birthday and a year full of joys, big and small; I only wish I could be there to share this day with you (except for the getting braces part–you’re on your own there).
I miss your hug-me-downs terribly.
And don’t let Manny do this to your cake!
Baci e abbracci
Aunt Shell
let the answering begin: the sequel
Sequel you ask? Why yes!
The original “let the answering begin!” can be found here, and that explains what this is all about, but for those who missed it and don’t feel like clicking:
A while back, I asked you what you would like to know about me so I could fill out the 8 things meme that JennieBoo tagged me with, and you responded. I’ve already answered 6 questions, which you can find here, and now here are five more.
Today’s topics are two very unrelated ones: my Calabrian fiancé P and the United States. They don’t even share a language, but in my world, they get to share a post! Whee!
(1) One of my most favoritist bloggers in France, Meredith of Poppy Fields, asked me whether I’ve married my “beau” or if it’s something I’m planning on doing.
No need to start out small, eh?
Well the first part is easy. We’re not married.
The second part is a little more complicated, but I’d say we’re 85-90% “for” getting married. It’s not really a big deal for either of us religiously or even emotionally (sorry for those who don’t like to see “the just a piece a paper” thing but . . . I do imagine that at some point we will make it official.
I talked briefly about some possible wedding plans here, but there’s nothing officially planned. Next summer is a possibility though.
For anyone not familiar with the odd engagement procedure (at least to me) in Italy, basically you’re fidanzati or “engaged” when the relationship is serious. There’s often no real proposal or ring, so with P and me, we’ve pretty much been engaged since about Day 2 following the whole fateful wind-blown jean jacket thing.
But let’s just call the engagement procedure a cross-cultural difference and move along.
(2) While we’re on the subject of P, One Smart Cookie asked me what he’s like and to name my favorite thing about him.
P gets short-changed a bit on the blog–mostly by his choice, of course–so I thank Ms Cookie for the opportunity to brag a bit.
P is probably someone you wouldn’t notice in a crowd because he’s a keen observer and quiet in groups (except with his closest friends of course). In line with that is that he’s quite pensive and sensitive even though most people who know him wouldn’t think that. And, despite being quiet and a bit shy, he’s actually quite demonstrative of his feelings for me, both verbally and physically.
He’s thoughtful to a fault, always worrying about whether I’m taken care of before he thinks of taking care of himself. One day after we met but before either of us had expressed any kind of feelings, I was walking to the grocery store when I saw him up ahead run toward an older woman struggling to carry her groceries. He didn’t know I was watching as his back was to me and he couldn’t have seen me coming, but that innocent scene? I won’t say it’s the moment I fell in love with him, but I was definitely on the way.
And he’s just sweet–if he goes somewhere without me, he always brings me something back, and I don’t mean he buys something. We’re not exactly rolling in cash and I’m not one for expensive shows of affection anyway (good combo, eh?), so I’m always so touched when he comes home with a perfect shell from the beach after he’s been fishing or the first almond blossom of the season from our tree.
He’s also smart and handsome, makes me laugh *a lot*, can fix just about anything, is an excellent cook, and knows that he should remain calm when I’m freaking out.
The best thing I like about him? He makes me feel so very, truly loved each and every day.
(3) Shifting gears but not questioners, One Smart Cookie also asked how frequently I visit the United States and when I visit, what I can’t wait to see/eat/visit/do.
I haven’t been back to the US since February-June 2004. I want to go back to visit, it just hasn’t happened yet for various reasons, not the least of which being the expense.
The thing I enjoy doing most when I go home is spending time with my family and friends, doing all the stuff that I used to do everyday with them: yard sales on Saturday mornings, trying all different restaurants with my mom, hanging out in Dunkin’ Donuts, Italian restaurants, or friends’ houses to talk and talk and talk. Catching up, generally.
Ah, and I also look forward to eating everything that my mom cooks and bakes. I’ve posted a list of what I miss about the States, but the longer I’m here, the less important those “things” are, and it’s really only the people I miss terribly.
(4) Related to “home” questions, Anno asked “When you think of home, where is it?” and whether I think I’ll return to the States.
Cheesy answers acceptable? Good.
My home is truly where my heart is. I’ve learned over the years that I can make a home anywhere that my heart is committed to, and a lot of my heart is here. P is a big part of that, of course, so I’m comfortable with saying this is my home. Indeed, if I were in the US visiting, I’d know I’d refer to here as home.
That said, the house and town where I grew up in America will always be my home too–a lot of my heart is there as well. And I refer to it as “home” when I’m here. No one ever said you couldn’t have two (or more) homes, right? Life is too short for arbitrary decisions, I say!
Do I think I’ll return to the States? To live permanently? Probably not. Even though it’s not all cappuccino and afternoon naps on this side of the pond, I am really, genuinely happy here. Plus I can’t imagine moving my whole life again, but I suppose never say never.
(5) And last but certainly not least for today, the always lovely and inspiring SomePinkFlowers wants to know:
what did you do/ with all your childhood STUFF/ when you moved to italy?/all those bits of memory things…/ i guess what i’m asking is this,/ are there bits of your life still stored/ in the states somewhere/or/ did you majorly purge/ and then move everything left completely…/ i am thinking christmas ornaments,/ high school annuals, dental charts,/ those typoes of things…/ whatwhowhenhow?/[one question, really.].
I think you can see why I didn’t paraphrase. Isn’t that just a beautiful question?
Anyway, I have a lot of stuff in a storage unit back in America–formerly my mom’s basement until she moved into an apartment. Now we are renting something out until I get back, clean it out, keep and ship (or pack) what I want, and purge the rest.
What’s in there? Well, I have *so* many books, including old textbooks from college and law school that I’d love to have here, but I don’t know if they’ll ever all make it. My Kennedy research collection, yearbooks, photo albums, loose photos, my grandmother’s things, items from church rituals (Baptism, Communion, Confirmation), old report cards, ceramics I made in high school, paintings, drawings, journals, newspaper clippings, memory boxes, holiday decorations, many cards and notes and letters, a collection of baseball memorabilia (old catcher’s masks, shoes, balls, posters). . . .
Not a whole lot from actual childhood, although there are still some random toys and whatnot in my father’s attic. Maybe. My children’s books were damaged in a roof leak, unfortunately, and that’s all that was really important to me of that stuff.
My master plan, to link all of today’s questions together in fact, is that someday P and I will travel to America and spend a few days going through this stuff so I can decide what to do with it once and for all.
He’ll have *so* much fun!
I didn’t mention that he can be rather impatient up in Number 2, did I? Ah, selective descriptioning.
Until next time, then.
Love Thursday: Amore Mio
Shh…don’t tell P, but I snapped this photo of him while he was taste-testing the merluzzo from yesterday’s recipe.
I was across the table from him (not my usual seat) pretending to fiddle with the camera to prepare for upcoming food shots when I zoomed and snapped.
Just so you know, this is 1 in a series of 1. There may not be another for a very long time. Doesn’t sit still much this one. Check out the movement in the fork!
And he’s more than just a pretty face! For more P cuteness, check out Conversations with P. And if you want to read about how we met, it’s in How a Jean Jacket and Some Wind Can Change Your Life.
I hope all of my American readers, at least, are having a nice long holiday weekend–I think I just may take one myself in honor of my birth country. God bless America!
Happy Love Thursday everyone!
Michelle Kaminsky is an American attorney-turned-freelance writer who lived in her family's ancestral village in Calabria, Italy for 15 years. This blog is now archived.
Calabria Guidebook
Recipes
