272 Aiuto! A che numero siamo?

I am a dual national - Dad was an Italian POW based in Kent and Mum was English.

They married and settled in Italy in a beautiful area - and the Tuscan/Ligurian boundary runs through one of our fields.Sarzana, Fosdinovo, Carrara, Cinque Terre etc are all near at hand but for my Mother especially who had worked in an office overlooking Trafalgar Square living in post war Italy was hard.

I have a Brother and a Sister who live in Italy but through circumstances I ended up eventually marrying and settling in the UK

Though our Parents are no longer with us we have retained the home and visit as oft as we are able.We love family get togethers and the neighbours are great!Roll on May 17th!!

Rosemary

Category
Introduce Yourself - Piacere Conoscerti

Submitted by Anonymous (not verified) on Thu, 04/21/2005 - 04:08

What a romantic and historically fascinating story - have you ever thought of writing about it?

Submitted by Anonymous (not verified) on Tue, 04/26/2005 - 16:21

No memoirs written Annec but I will share with you all the following:

The Italy I got to know and love originated in chidhood - the 1950's
In those days we washed laundry in the local river - it's still there and when I see the stones on which the clothes were soaped and bashed I... remember.
Wonderful how one's head was used to carry anything heavy - often minus hands... I tried but failed every time!
We had mezzadri in those days - so there was always plenty of banter - albeit in dialect. I still retain a close friendship with Elda.
Many of the older people were illiterate but well up on folklore.They had few possessions but willingly shared with others and believed in God.Indeed it was both humbling and moving a few years back being able to talk to Elda's Mother,Rosina on her deathbed.
The older women always seemed to be dressed in black. Following a bereavement black certainly was worn for a year and men wore a black button.
We had a vineyard and the grape harvest was fun - better than a trampoline was us children attempting to jump up and down trying to press the grapes.
Indeed the fields were our vast play ground and often we ran barefoot and attempted to climb trees.
Each season had its fruit - cherries, figs, nuts, lemons, apples, olives, pears, cachi and nespole.Then there was the abundant supply of veg from the orto for making the nourishing and very tasty 'Minestrone'
Either horse and cart or donkey were the means of taking the olives to the frantoio.The oil was then poured into bags made of goatskin.
We had livestock - at times something had to be killed for food....but I'll not go into that one!
The wood oven outside was the means for cooking bread and foccaccia. The taste buds had a treat and polenta was widely used too - I remember once eating it with parmesan as we searched the woods for mushrooms.
Sounds evoke memories too - the toll of the Church bell. The 12o'clock chime meant lunch time to those out in the fields.Pane e vino always featured on the table.
The cicadas were numerous and noisy - not so many now.
In the stillness of the evening voices carried - on a Summer's evening after supper people sat outside - generally it was on the steps - no TV!Radio - yes!
We could hear the distant trains and as the day came to a close the night came alive with its own sounds.
I did attend the local Elementary school and we did wear uniform - a black overall with a white collar tied by a white ribbon and we either went to school in the morning or afternoon.Few had cars - we either walked or cycled usually, but there was a bus service and the nearby beaches were not crowded.

Well the passing years have made a difference but we still retain the homestead - a point where we can gather with family and friends, unwind and laugh lots!!

Rosemary

Submitted by Anonymous (not verified) on Tue, 05/10/2005 - 16:02

Indeed May 17th is almost upon us and I look forward on that day to returning to my chidhood home.

No longer will I have my Parents' welcome 'home' and my Fathers' wet kiss. Instead of bustle .....silence will greet us as we open the gate and drive into the courtyard - now devoid of any animal.

The mustiness hits us as we enter inside - windows are opened wide.Nearby neighbours are alerted of our arrival and if history repeats itself, they will be up to check us out with a hug and two big kisses... and we're no longer solo.

The responsability of maintaining the home now falls on us - the three siblings, and we are very aware at the present time that keeping her comes at a price, both in time and money.And yet we believe God also has a purpose.....

Adults with added responsabilities we may be, but amid the neighbours, who have known us from knee high to a grasshopper and friends, we regress badly...and it doesn't take il 'Gallo Nero' - our terminology for Chianti or our very own vino to get us motivated.

With a British/Italian background we appreciate the diversity of the two countries. For sure growing up wasn't without its many problems but the bond I now share with my Brother and Sister who live near Parma is priceless.

So - as the 'plane will descend down and left towards Pisa Airport the adrenalin will take hold and I will know that I have come 'home'

In fact it will be a very busy time as we're having photographers taking pictures for a video/DVD for my husband and then friends coming to stay Naturally my Brother and Sister would like to be in the thick of it all so we'll see quite a bit of them too and their families!

Rosemary