A Quattr'occhi

My friend called yesterday asking what time would be best for her son to call me. He wanted to ask me some questions pertaining to accounting. I immediately said that if he was going to be in NYC, I would rather see him in person. I really wanted to say "a quattr'occhi", an expression I'd never used before but I now remember coming across it for the first time many years ago. It was in Rome back in 2001, I was visiting the ‘Alimentari’, the deli on via dei Banchi Vecchi when I noticed two men loudly speaking to each other. One said, "I told him that I wanted to speak to him 'a quattr’occhi' not on the phone". I loved the expression, but never had a reason to use it until yesterday.

What does “a quattr'occhi" really mean? The literal translation is "with four eyes". and when I heard the two men talking in the Alimentari, the meaning was much more that just "with four eyes", I understood it to mean only 4 eyes in other words, in private.

I started thinking about the phrase and the beauty of it and how significant it was. I started thinking of all of the emails and phone conversations that were misunderstood and how this could have been avoided if instead I had spoken to the people involved "a quattr'occhi". The eyes tell so much, they really are the windows of our souls. They give clues as to what we are thinking and feeling. When the eyes are smiling we know it's a genuine smile. Is the person looking at our eyes or avoiding them? So, off I go and googled a quatrr'occhi. Yes, the meaning was right on. I also found a video “A quattr’occhi with Dio” with Massimo Troise, an actor I loved in " Il Postino". This video introduced me to another side of Massimo Troisi.

A quattr'occhi con Dio” Massimo Troisihttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=27F2njMwnto&NR=1

I had seen "Il Postino" and fell in love with Massimo Troisi, a sensitive loving and handsome man. I never knew before today, that he was also a comedian with a lot to say. In this video he's having a private conversation with God and he's demanding of God an explanation for all he's done. He questions God’s haste in creating the world in 6 days. He says the animals are complaining, like the elephant thinks his nose is too long… a very amusing soliloquy of a poor man angrily speaking with his God. He says the ten commandments were made to benefit the rich- After all, who would want to covet or steal his old hoody! What was that nonsense and chaos that God caused just because a young girl ate an apple! By the way you should check it out as it is very funny, if you can understand Italian, better yet the Neapolitan dialect.

This form of communication obviously isn't, "aquattr’occhi", it's almost the New Year and I hope in the coming 2011 I will be speaking to all of you a quattr’occhi.

Our Passion For Collecting

Is it the internet that is helping old friends get back in touch with friends from their past or is it just another stage of life that we go through or is it both. Through Facebook, I have renewed many old friendships. One of these is a friendship with my friend Ellen whom I met through our passion for collecting. Collecting is a not only a lot of fun but for some of us, collecting lies at the core of our very existence. Collecting is not just about collecting great treasures but also in making and "collecting" new friends. Hunting for both is an adventure which is different and unique for each. Each one newly found, has its own "story.' In truth, it's a history lesson that teaches us many valuable skills. First is being able to identify, then select and, lastly evaluate. Financially, my collector friends, when faced with hard times during this recession, were able to survive by selling off their collections and also by counting on one another.

I met Ellen many years ago when I was in the midst of my collecting phase. I collected just about everything, but my passion was bakelite and costume jewelry. Ellen, collected everything that was Victorian. The Victorian period was her passion, especially paintings on Ivory. She has very long dark beautiful hair and she lookes like one of the victorian ivory portraits that she so much likes.

Going to the 26th street, and the 67th street flea markets on the w/e's, was our time to hunt for treasures and be with friends. We looked forward to the w/e. Ellen and I would meet and then go on our own way to find our cherished treasures - only to meet again at a diner and have our breakfast. It wasn't so much the breakfast that we were looking forward to, but it was the opportunity to look at our goodies and share our finds with a friend. Sometimes, Ellen would say, Frances, didn't you see that this brooch has been repaired, or this necklace is not original and I would shriek, and I would vouch to be more careful next time, and the next w/e it would be the same. Most of the time, I would have bought some really amazing treasures, which along with fond memories would be cherished for many years to come. I can still remember our oohs and aahs when looking at our goodies and complimenting ourselves on our finds. Ellen had great taste and always came up with the perfect item.

After many years, here we are again "thanks to Facebook " on the phone to find out she is no longer buying antique and Victorian jewelry nor am I buying anything either. Actually I have divested myself of just about everything material. My interests are now elsewhere and so are Ellen's. Her sister has left her job and opened an exclusive pet shop, specializing in dog items. No live animals. I immediately checked out her website and OMG. It's amazing. Check out the website at www.causetopaws.com She has everything I would want for my daughter's dog NIKE. HERE WE ARE AGAIN SHARING A MUTUAL INTEREST. It's just amazing after all these years -it's like time has not passed - we went from one passion to another.

While our passion for collecting inanimate objects has decreased, our passion for "collecting" friendships has increased. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BPTOY8FrvNw simon and garfunkel song old friends

"Wilkie Collins: A Modern Man From the 1800's"

For you out there who have difficulty getting to sleep at night or needing distraction during the day, here is my remedy - read Wilkie Collins books. After my daughter finished reading his book "The Moonstone", she came over to me and said "mom, you should read this book I think you would like it". Considering that she had been right numerous times before, I gladly accepted her suggestion. I had no idea how powerful and engrossing this book would be and I couldn't put it down once I had started reading it. I devoured all 400+ pages which caused me to forget everything else. I thoroughly enjoyed it! - written in the mid 1800's, this author was way ahead of his time. I loved his characters, especially the women who are depicted as independent, strong and exceptionally intelligent. After reading the book, I launched into finding out more about him. Now I like him even more. He is a man after my own heart!. He neither believed in marriage nor religion, He believed in a committed relationship without the need of a marriage certificate.

A few days after finishing reading "The Moonstone", Alanna, comes back from the library with yet another Wilkie book, " Armadale" and says, would you like to read it but I'm warning you it's twice the lenghts of the other one. I said," Oh no! I have way too much work, and he is so addictive, I better wait", but the book was staring at me and finally, i couldn't help picking it up and I started on the enterprise. Three days later, no sleep, no going out, no cooking....I finished the book - and again, I was more convinced than ever that I wanted to read more of his books. "Armadale" has a plot with lots of twists and turns.

Instead of detesting Lydia Gwilt for being a murderess, I actually liked her character, she was strong, independent, smart and masquing her ability to love and be loved. Collins again, shows himself as a man ahead of his time with the psychological profile of his character of Lydia Gwilt and the two Allan Armadales. This story also delves in fate and the superatural as Mr. Midwinter often says " What is to be will be". "che sara' sara'"
My dear friends, I recommend this book totally. Reading these books was like watching a movie, or perhaps more like a soap opera- where he describes every scene, life as it was during the 19th Century, the laws of the time, their culture and beliefs but somehow he transcends this era and brings it right to today.

Bialetti Coffee Maker

So, after living in Rome for about 5 years it became apparent to me that in almost every home there was a Bialetti coffee espresso maker, but all I could think about was the Neapolitan coffee maker that I grew up with, called The Napolitana, this is the one that my grandmother used. My grandmother was not a Napoletana but a Romagnola. She loved her coffee and La Napolitana coffee maker is the one she carried with her everywhere she went. As a child when my grandmother had some free time she'd say, "Francolina, let's go to Naples for a good cup of coffee" we'd all file into the car and the long 2 to 3 hour drive began. The adults would have their special coffee and my sister and I would have the most delicious pizza ever.

Now four years later, I find myself at the Porto Rico coffee shop in the West Village and Bialetti's name comes up again. Having run out of my coffee from San'Eustachio, which I bring back from Rome, I have no idea which coffee to purchase and I ask the salesperson, a charming young man, probably the same age as my daughters, to recommend a strong espresso bean. He asked whether I wanted it ground, and whether I used a Bialetti. I go into my story how every home in Italy has one...and find myself engaged in a quite informative conversation about different coffee makers with the young man. Of course I bought his favorite BLEND, and to top it off it was on sale too!

At home, I kept thinking why the Bialetti espresso maker has become so popular and the number one choice all over Italy. All Italians and coffee lovers know that the best coffee in Italy is in Naples, there have been debates about it, is it the water? is it the way the coffee beans are roasted? is it the humidity? is it the coffee pot? No one knows, all I know is, it is by far the best coffee I have ever had. And the same debate would be about the pizza as it was for the coffee, is it the water?...

So, I ask again, what makes Bialetti the #1 coffee maker in Italy and why do I have a Bialetti in my home and not the Napolitana. Maybe, because it's easier to use, more accessible, or just following the trend?

Polenta

Lately, I've been to some very good Italian restaurants and Polenta was on the menu. As a little girl in Italy, Polenta was one of my favorite Primo Piatto. The process is long but straight forward. One needs:

1 pound coarsely ground corn meal, preferably stone-ground.
2 quarts boiling water, keep some water boiling on the side.
A teaspoon of salt.

Boil water in a wide bottomed pot and add the salt. When it comes to a boil, slowly add the corn meal stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, always stir in the same direction, to keep lumps from forming. Keep stirring for abut 40 minutes.

Of course Polenta requires a tasty topping. a few examples: Marinara sauce, Meatballs, Sausages, Broccoletti and Sausages, Ricotta and all kinds of Cheeses and vegetables....on and on. This is a very creative dish with many ways to cook and top it.
Polenta is not only a savory dish but it can also be made as a dessert. If there are any leftovers it can be equally tasty, fried, grilled or just left plain with your choice of sweet or savory toppings. For savory: Just about anything but I especially like it with a light fresh tomato sauce and fried until crispy. And for sweet: Top it with honey, nuts, ricotta or fruits. Enjoy!!!

Back at the restaurant, I eagerly order my Polenta and find it not to be authentic. What a disappointment. its not my memory of it at all. My beautiful memories, of my family taking turns stirring the Polenta. While we stirred, We laughed, told jokes and drank wine as we patiently waited for the perfect meal.

These memories of Polenta are tempting me to start my own restaurant so that my friends will be able to enjoy what I enjoyed back when I was a child.

PS
do not stop stirring the polenta otherwise it will stick and burn

PPS
To serve, it's poured out onto a wooden board or on individual plates

"Essere Nonna" "Being A Grandmother" by Viki

Essere Nonna dicevano tutti " è diverso dall'essere mamma, è di più!"
wauuu! è bellissimo : questo esserino sorridente, con le braccine sempre tese,
con gli occhi sgranati sul mondo, e i pianti , gli urli...
tutto è bello di lei !

La guardi e cerchi tua figlia neonata e torni indietro a quegli anni faticosi,
sempre di corsa, sempre impegnata, ti rendi conto che non te la sei goduta
veramente la maternità perchè dovevi battere su mille fronti. e le nottate:..
Non ne parliamo!!!!

la mattina mi vestivo senza guardarmi, mi sono messa anche scarpe diverse,
vestiti a rovescio...e intanto lei cresceva....
ora c'è la nipotina e lei sì che ma la godo. anche anche ora tanta fatica
perchè vuoi aiutare tua figlia, vedi che ha bisogno di te, ti cerca sempre, ti
chiama.
ritrovi con lei un legame diverso di cui ignoravi l'esistenza, ma intanto ti
spupazzi la bimba, deliziosa principessa, piccola tiranna che già mostra i suoi
pugnetti alla vita
viki



Being a grandmother They all said " it's different than being a mother, it is more! " wauuu! it is beautiful: this smiling little being, with her little arms always stretched out, with her eyes sgranati on the world, and the tears, the screams…
Everything is beautiful about her!

You look at her and you search for your daughter when she was an infant and you go back to those difficult laborious years, always on the run, always with too many engagements, you realize that you really did not enjoy being a mother because you had to wear too many hats. and the sleepless nights...!let's not talk about them!!!

In the morning I dressed without looking at myself, I even wore two different shoes, my dresses inside out...in the meanwhile she grew…. now there's the little granddaughter and yes I do enjoy her, even now with lots of hard work because I want to help my daughter, I see that she needs me, she's always looking for me and she calls.

I find in her a bond which is stronger than I thought could ever exist. In the meanwhile I cuddle the baby girl, the delightful princess, this little tyrant who already approaches life with pluck.
Viki

Recession Recipe - Spaghetti Aglio Olio E' Peperoncino

I'm too hungry to go shopping and there's nothing in the house. What to do? Make Spaghetti Aglio Olio E' Peperoncino.

In the late 60's and 70's in Italy, we would go out in groups and stayed out till the wee hours of the morning. Hungry, we would gather at someones home and make spaghetti Aglio Olio e Peperoncino. It was easy, simple and delicious. We'd open up a bottle of wine, Red, White or Rose', whatever was available and we continued our partying at the kitchen table.

This is what I'm having for lunch today. Even though I have parsley growing on my balcony and Pecorino Romano and Parmigiano Reggiano in the fridge. I'm going to eat it as it was intended and bring back some of those fun memories.

The advantage of this pasta is that Aglio Olio e Peperoncino are the basic ingredients for just about all the traditional Italian sauces, the ingredients are easily found in Italian kitchens, but most of all it can be made cheaply without seasonal or store-bought ingredients,

What's needed:

1 lb of spaghetti or (fettucini)
4 cloves of garlic (minced)
2 hot peppers (to taste)
1/4 cup olive oil ( virgin olive oil)

How to do it:

In a large pasta pan, bring lightly salted water to a boil; add the spaghetti and don't overcook them, cook them "AL Dente". While the spaghetti are cooking, in a large saute' pan warm the olive oil, then add the minced garlic and crushed hot peppers. Sauté them together until the garlic turns lightly golden. Turn off the heat (the garlic will continue to brown, make sure it's not to brown as we don't want it to be bitter.

Drain the cooked spaghetti and transfer them to the sauté pan. Stir the spaghetti into the sauce, mixing well, about 1 minute. Serve immediately. If needed or desired, fresh olive oil can be added after it's prepared. The predominant flavor Peperoncino is what makes all three ingredients mix together well to give it that special taste, however the most important ingredient is sharing this with your loved ones and special friends.

Now that you have the base of most of the Italian sauces. You can have fun and be creative, you can add anything to it that you like as long as it is in season and fresh... tomatoes, fish, meat, panchetta, artichockes.... another great recipe is ricotta with pepper and basil.

Stay tuned for the next simple recipe.

Realigning The Prospective

I received an email from my friend Marcy asking me to forward a link of my blog to her friend. Her friend's husband recently left her and their child for another woman. But before he left he cleared the checking accounts.

To all of you who have been deserted by former loved ones, and left in a state of shock, I'd like to reassure you that there is a bright light at the end of that tunnel.

Try to remember that the person you loved, was not at all the person you THOUGHT you knew! just a figment of your imagination! For the one you loved would not have betrayed you..accept this and prepare to move on, to something so much better.. open yourself up to the many adventures ahead...

There's movie that I saw back in the 70's that deals with just what you are going through, you might want to rent it. "An Unmarried Woman" describes the loss, ,the hurt of being rejected, the pain suffered from the betrayal but most importantly, it shows how she redifines who she is and becomes a stronger and more independent person.

An Unmarried Woman (1978) More at IMDbPro »

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Erica is unmarried only temporarily in that her successful, wealthy husband of seventeen years has just left her for a girl he met while buying a shirt in Bloomingdale's. The film shows Erica coming to terms with the break-up while revising her opinions of herself, redefining that self in its own right rather than as an extension of somebody else's personality, and finally going out with another man. Erica refuses to drop everything for Saul, an abstract expressionist painter, simply out of love for him because
he expects her to. It is not so much loneliness that is her problem, and the problems that men, flitting around this newly "available" woman like moths round a flame, bring to her sense of independence. Written by alfiehitchier

The same kind of thing happened to Toto, (Italian actor, comedian, playright, poet, songwriter), and Look how he dealt with it. this story is a little different. Toto' and his ex-wife Diana Bandini made an agreement to stay together until their daughter Liliana left the house. She didn't keep her promise, and remarried. Heartbroken Toto' wrote a heart wrenching song and dedicated it to her. "Malafemmena" is considered one of the best neapolitan pop songs covered by many artists worldwide, including Elvis Presley. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q3f9bKPZH14&feature=related
"Malafemmena" is written in the neapolitan dialect http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ZnOmjj_Suw&feature=related

"Malafemmena" "Evil Woman"

Si avisse fatto a n'ato If you did to someone else
chello ch'e fatto a mme what you did to me
st'ommo t'avesse acciso, this man would have killed you,
tu vuò sapé pecché? Do you want to know why?

Pecché 'ncopp'a sta terra Because on this earth
femmene comme a te women like you
non ce hanna sta pé n'ommo should not be here for a man
onesto comme a me!... honest like me!...

Femmena Woman
Tu si na malafemmena You are an evil woman
Chist'uocchie 'e fatto chiagnere.. You made these eyes cry..
Lacreme e 'nfamità. tears and infamy.

Femmena, Woman
Si tu peggio 'e na vipera, You are worse than a viper,
m'e 'ntussecata l'anema, You intoxicated my soul,
nun pozzo cchiù campà. I can't live anymore,

Femmena Woman
Si ddoce comme 'o zucchero Your sweet just like sugar
però sta faccia d'angelo But this angel face
te serve pe 'ngannà... is made to deceive...

Femmena, Woman
tu si 'a cchiù bella femmena, You are the most beautiful woman,
te voglio bene e t'odio I love you and I hate you
nun te pozzo scurdà... I can't forget you...

Te voglio ancora bene I still love you
Ma tu nun saie pecchè But you don't know why
pecchè l'unico ammore Because you have been
si stata tu pe me... the only love for me...
E tu pe nu capriccio And for one fancy of yours
tutto 'e distrutto,ojnè, all has been destroyed
Ma Dio nun t'o perdone But God will not forgive you
chello ch'e fatto a mme!... What you have done to me!...

These are just two stories out of millions, There are lots of possibilities for us to keep growing, learning and creating. We have to seize the moment and have fun. We have to find the solution that fits with who we are. As John Lennon says "Whatever gets you through the night is all right". You will find your own path and deal with it in your own way. I wish you lots of luck. Writing in my journal is what got me trough the night.

"A NEW UNDERSTANDING" By Heloise Lissauer

About 5 months ago I accepted a job working for the US Census Bureau it was not something I had planned on.

I had spent my entire working career in fashion, but the world had turned upside down, jobs had disappeared and I wanted to work.

I suddenly found myself in a strange alien world of many forms and initials.. Nothing was ever called what it was. The office was the LCO my boss was a CL his boss was an FOS. To my complete surprise I loved what I was doing and went to work with a happy attitude that I did not have in the fashion industry. Yes I was making 75 percent less a week, but people were grateful that I was doing an excellent job and I had more thanks you's in five months then I had in my 20 year career in fashion.

My job was to interview households. I worked in two very different categories the first was in the multi million dollar homes of Fifth Ave. The second category was in tenements in some very poor sections of East Harlem. At first I was a little scared to go into an area I had never been, but I discovered another strange thing.

The residents of the million dollar homes were on the whole not very easy to deal with, but when I got to the less fortunate tenants in East Harlem everyone and I mean everyone was so nice. I came home telling my friends this, and this past Sunday in the NY Times an article appeared on how when it comes to charity the poor are much more proportionally generous then the rich. Of course it is the rich who can give the big donations but it turned out percent wise charity to earnings the poor win.

I started watching begging on the subway and realized it was the poorly dressed who would give money not the riders in their designer clothing.

Because I was so happy at my job, when the Census recently terminated 150,000 employees and kept 60 employees, (not a typo) I was one of the 60. So I discovered what I never had realized before that making big money is not the only key to happiness.

I certainly no longer have the buying power I used to have but like the residents in the tenements I am happier and more generous in my life then when I was bringing home the big bucks.

Heloise Lissauer

Land of Mine

Sidney and I were headed to the beach; since we missed the direct train to Terracina, we took the one to Monte San Biagio. Theoretically the bus was to be waiting for us, but as customary in Italy, this was just a theory, the bus wasn't there. So we waited under the hot sun, we waited, and waited. I called my friend Rossella, she had gone back to her hometown and was telling me all about the people she had met up with, people she had not seen for over 40 years. She was happy.  I started thinking about an old song that always made me cry "Paese Mio" by Jose Feliciano http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VJP3gQxpeNg

Hot and impatient I start to look around and to my delight, I see an elderly man picking figs from a tree, I immediately made my way over,  the gentle man started sharing his pickings with me.   And so here I am feeling 8 years old all over again and the song “Paese Mio” rang even louder in my ears. Then I started thinking of the little town I moved to in the states and thought of the song "My little town" by Simon and Garfunkel http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BZmhg-ntiXQ.  Two different worlds, two different cultures, two different towns.

It’s all clear to me now. I came to Rome because I needed to get back to my roots, just like Rossella, who in the past few years has been going back to her paese. I was trying to reconnect with the person that I was, the person that I am, who I will be. My life was changing, my daughters were becoming adults and no longer needed me. My accounting profession was over, it had been taken over by my ex. I had lost my identity and it was time for a change. I knew it had to be a change in my career, but what was I going to do? The last time I had needed a big change I came to Italy for almost a year and found my answer.

NYC is where my life has been, and in familiar places it’s as if I can see my footprints. I recognize them as I walk through the streets and they give me comfort and a feeling of security. New York City is my only home. There are no footprints imbedded in the cobble stones here in Rome but at times I see my family in my mind, I see them walking in the streets, drinking coffee in the bars, I see them everywhere and I miss them. Here in Italy is where my roots are. Sometime I go to the cemetery and visit with them and it gives me time to cry and it reminds me of who I am. Strangely enough, my daughters feel similarly about this cemetery in Italy, they feel a connection to their roots. I remember the first time Alanna saw my father’s grave, a little mausoleum, with the name Cavaricci in the front with pictures of him and his mother and his sister. These are people she never got to meet or know directly. She began to cry. She too felt the connection with her roots.

For the first time I realize that there is a difference between home and roots. I couldn’t understand why I kept coming here when my home sweet home is NYC. My daughters have also understood this fundamental balance, in completely different ways. Alanna, like me, sees Italy as the place where her roots lie. Her sister, Sidney, born and raised in the same house, feels quite the opposite. Her roots are in New York, but her true home is here in Rome.

As Sidney and I walk along the seashore, we watch all the Italian families laugh and yell at each other, eating their various trays of home-made lunches; the quiet tourists gently wading into the water. We see the vendors, almost all immigrants from Africa, India, the Middle East, they weave in between these families, selling their trinkets and cheap clothes so that they can send some money back to their families. Lugging heavy bags back and forth across the hot sand. We always try to buy something from them every year, they are always grateful and thankful when we do and they are friendly and inquisitive (especially about NYC), the kind of people that America was built by: hard working, sincere, with a purpose. My heart goes out to them, I imagine how hard it must be for them to be in a foreign land, far away from their family and friends with no roots and no footprints, other than the ones washed away by the waves.

Lyrics to Paese Mio :
Paese mio che stai sulla collina (My little town that’s on the hill)
disteso come un vecchio addormentato (stretched out like a sleeping old man)
la noia l'abbandono (the boredom, abandonment)
niente son la tua malattia (nothing I am your illness)
paese mio ti lascio e vado via (my town I’m leaving you and I’m going away)
che sarà che sarà che sarà (what will be what will be what will be)
che sarà della mia vita chi lo sa (what will be of my life who knows)
so far tutto o forse niente (I can do everything or maybe nothing)
da domani si vedrà (as of tomorrow we will see)
e sarà sarà quel che sarà (and it will be, it will be what it will be)
amore mio ti bacio sulla bocca (my love I kiss you on the lips)
che fu la fonte del mio primo amore (that was the source of my first love)
ti do l'appuntamento (I’m giving you a date)
come e quando non lo so (how and when I don’t know)
ma so soltanto che ritornerò (but I only know that I will return)
che sarà che sarà che sarà (what will be, what will be, what will be)
che sarà della mia vita chi lo sa (what will be of my life who will know)
con me porto la chitarra (with me I will bring my guitar)
e se la notte piangerò (and if at night I cry)
una nenia di paese suonerò (I will play a folk song of the town)
Gli amici miei son quasi tutti via (my friends have almost all gone away)
e gli altri partiranno dopo me (and the others will be leaving after me)
peccato perché stavo bene in loro compagnia (It’s a shame because I liked being in their company)
ma tutto passa tutto se ne va (But everything passes, everything goes away)
che sarà che sarà che sarà (what will be, what will be, what will be)
che sarà della mia vita chi lo sa (what will be of my life who knows)
so far tutto o forse niente (I can do everything or maybe nothing)
da domani si vedrà (as of tomorrow we will see)
e sarà sarà quel che sarà (and it will be, it will be that which will be)
che sarà che sarà che sarà (what will be, what will be, what will be)
che sarà della mia vita chi lo sa (what will be of my life who knows)
so far tutto o forse niente (I can do everything or maybe nothing)
da domani si vedrà (as of tomorrow we will see)
e sarà sarà quel che sarà (and will be will be that which will be)
Che sarà sarà (what will be will be)

You have to earn that

I was out on my morning walk with Nike the other day, my hair uncombed, my face unwashed, when out of nowhere this young man looks directly into my eyes and tells me "I love your hair!" and than adds "You had to earn that". I loved the phrase, I had never thought of my gray hair that way. But he was right, I did earn it. It took 62 years to get this way and every strand has a story. All the stories that have made me who I am today, all the stories that have given me the confidence and the strength to go on even when things seem to be falling apart.

When I was growing up it was a fact that graying men were distinguished and graying woman were just plain old. In my early 40's my hair started going grey and with that I had a decision to make. I thought about my options; should I become a slave to my hair, subject myself to a time consuming exercise to keep up the pretence of youth? Many of my friends would tell me, "Color your hair and you will lose 10 years, easy". It was a difficult decision. There had been incidents; one where a man thought I was my then life partner's mother, and another when a woman took me for my youngest daughter's grandmother. I asked my little Sidney if it bothered her that her friend's mother thought I was her grandmother, and being the wonderful little encourager that she was, looked up at me and said, "Mommy, you don't look old. It's just that people see the white hair and most of the time only grandmothers have white hair. I like your white hair."

Today 20 years later I am so happy to see, that women 50+ in Hollywood are changing the image. Women with grey hair are not only distinguished, but also sexy, beautiful, and secure. Helen Mirren, Judy Dench, Vanessa Redgrave, Meryl Streep, Glen Close, and many others have earned their grey hair.

Because Kelly Osbourne, Pixie Geldorf and many more are sporting their grey hair, I have been noticing lots of young women on the NYC streets following the trend by dying their hair grey. Grey has become the new fashion statement. If you are a young fashionista grey hair is what's in. These woman in their 20's are choosing to go grey. Much more subtle than the green, orange, blue and purple of past days.

I would never have thought this day would come. A big step for women, we have gained the right to vote, we have burned our bras, we can be single rather than spinsters, we can be mothers without being wives, and now we've gone grey. I love it.

Some Of My favorite Summer Recipes

Everyone is talking about Diet. The Nutritional Value of Diet and that eating properly keeps you healthy and slim. Nutritionists say that the Mediterranean diet is one of the healthiest. All this talk made me think of my favorite Italian Minestra - Minestrone "The Big Soup". It's delicious and healthy. My friend Rossella's father thought so too. He lived to be 101. He attributed his good health and longevity to eating fresh minestrone every day of his life. This soup is so good with so many different possible recipes that it's a crime to repeat it. Every time you make it it's different and every time it's delicious.


As a little girl I would go to the market with my mother and everyday and every season the vegetables were different and therefore so was the soup. I used to look forward to the new season that brought my favorite vegetables; while some children anxiously awaited their summer vacation, all I was waiting for were the tomatoes and the fava beans; when classes resumed in the Fall, roasted Chestnuts were always a favorite but cauliflower and pumpkin made that minestrone oh so sweet;

At Christmas, the traditional sweets were definitely on my list but the artichokes took first place, during Easter break I feasted on asparagus and beets.

This, like many other Italian traditions,I passed on to my daughters, and they enjoyed it just as much as I did. While living in Italy with my daughter and her dog, Nike I was able to give her that same experience I had had. Living near Campo d' Fiori going to the fresh food market in the morning meant no more than a short stroll with Nike. By the time Sidney came home from school there would be a bowl of hot minestrone on the table? in the winter, and a cold bowl in the summer. Nike enjoyed the minestrone just as much as we did and always begged for seconds!

Here are some of the recipes from my Italian childhood that are both healthy and delicious. Of course I am no chef and have never followed a recipe, as a true Italian I make it up as I go along, therefore I will give you the base ingredients and the rest is up to you. First I give you, Minestrone. It can be one of the most creative and inventive minestre. A minestra that gives you a chance to be an artist.

You start by boiling water in a deep pan, to this water you add onions, garlic, carrots, celery, potato, and beans. After about 15 minutes add tomatoes and all the wonderful fresh and in-season vegetables you can find. The more the merrier. I always include chile peppers, not only do they help your circulation but you may never need to spend another penny on viagra. http://www.academiabarilla.com/italian-culinary-tradition/spice-herbs-dressings/peperoncino.aspx. Once all of your vegetables are in the pot, cover it and let it cook for another 15 minutes or until it's done to your liking. Spices are optional and encouraged.

Before serving put a little "first cold pressed olive oil" in the bottom of your bowl and add fresh parsley on top. Sometimes I also grate some Parmigiano Reggiano on top. You can have it over pasta, rice, barley or toasted bread. Toasted bread should be added at the bottom of the bowl with the olive oil. Any combination you choose is delicious and this is one plate that never gets boring. It so much resembles life and all the changes that it brings. 10cc thought so too as they wrote a song about it "Life is a Minestrone" 1975 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jKG6CJWISVo

You my ask yoursef what does this have to do with life changes. Everything, changing your diet for the better is always a step forward.

Stay tuned for the next recipe.

Acceptance

After reading "Unbreak My Heart" in Ann Munday's Musing http://annmundaymusing.blogspot.com/2010/06/unbreak-my-heart.html?, about the Five Stages of Grieving, I started thinking about these stages; Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance, and what they really mean to me. The first four stages seem to be automatic, a natural process and easily recognizable. The final stage is the most ambiguous as well as the most difficult to arrive at.

I have had many friends who have suffered the loss of a loved one, through their stories, ones that I have heard, and my own experience, I realized that Acceptance is the most difficult of these stages and for some totally unattainable. That's why there are so many songs sung, so many poems and books and blogs written, so many movies produced. We need to adjust to the loss, make it a part of our life. If we don't go through the last stage all the other stages keep coming back. it's like being on a treadmill unable to get off.

So what do we do, we try meditation, we read what Buddah and the Dalai Lama have to say, we try new interests, we surround ourselves with family and friends. We try everything possible, but to no avail. We still miss our losses, they will always stay with us. We have to find a way to incorporate them into our lives. These experiences make us richer, more understanding and compassionate people. I grew to understand that Acceptance is not stopping the pain, it's merely learning to live with the pain and the loss.

So how do we deal with the loss of a loved one, the loss of our home, the loss of our careers, the loss of our finances and the pain that comes along with it. Of course we all have our different ways of dealing with them. John Lennon conveyed it well - that 'Whatever Gets You Through The Night', 'is all right',meaning that we must do whatever works for us to get us through our pain, and from my mother's generation a similar directive from Eduardo di filippo, Italian playwright and philosopher, who ends one of his plays with "Ha da passa' 'a nuttata," which translated is, you got to get through the nights.


For example, my Zia Mara, lost her daughter through leukemia over 30 years ago, when Ines was still in her teens. Every night from the day of her death to this day, she writes beautiful letters to Ines, telling her all that is happening in her life and in the world, she tells her how much she and everyone loves her. My aunt saves these letters and she is convinced that through these letters she is communicating with Ines. This is how my zia deals with the loss of her daughter. Is this acceptance?

Growing up I have had several friends who lost their mothers at a young age and yet all of them felt that their mothers were right there protecting them. Still, these women today, in their sixties, are missing their mothers. Yes, they have had happy lives, have succeeded in their careers and had wonderful families of their own. Yes, they all spent many many years in therapy. So, is this Acceptance?

As I have learned through my life experience, our loved ones will never be forgotten, we have a special place reserved inside of us for the special people who have touched us. Our life is still beautiful, but there will always be that empty space that no one can fill; that space reserved for that special person. This to me is Acceptance.

"They Fuck You Up"

This morning while sipping my tea on my balcony, I started singing Julie Andrews song "the lusty month of May" from Camelot

" Tra la! It's May!
The lusty month of May!"

As I sang to myself I realize that both of my parents were born in May and my mom's birthday was coming up soon. I started thinking back to my life as a child, a young adult, a single woman, a mother and wife, and then single again. Back in 1971 I read Philip Larkin's poem whose title I have never forgotten and sums up the 70's and all that went with it. This is when I realized not everything is like Camelot.

"They Fuck You Up"

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.

My generation can relate to this poem, but the new generation, my daughters and their friends do they feel the same? Do my daughters blame me for their problems? Our parents had children at a young age, so my generation, we waited. I had my first daughter at 35. I waited until I had my life together , until I was a responsible adult, independent, and self-sufficient. If you ask my daughters though, I could have spared myself the wait. I was curious how the new generation related to this poem, so I asked my daughters. I guess Philip Larkin's poem is timeless, because they agree with it just as much as I did. The only difference is that this generation's reinvention of parenting is to have children at a younger age. I have two nieces both younger than 35 with two kids each and this seems to be the trend today.

Although parenting might be easier now with the parenting blogs, books, and DVD's, I'm sure even in 200 years there will be a teenager who will find this poem and have a very similar reaction as mine and my daughters'. In the words of Rita from Showtime's Dexter,
"You're a parent, you'll do damage"

Easter In Terracina

Here I am for the first time in my life celebrating Easter with friends in my summer home in Terracina, Italy. My family (daughters, mother, sister, brother in law, nieces, their husbands, grand nieces and nephews) all in NYC.

My friends and guests came from Rome, Florence, Venice and Priverno to spend time together. My apartment is filled with laughter, good food, wine, grappa, home-made limoncello, on and on. Our breakfast, cappuccino e bomba con la crema were consumed at our favorite bar on the piazza where all in one place we could see and feel history spanning from the Roman through modern times. My long walks on the beach were used for introspection and assessing my past, planning my future but most of all enjoying and living in the present, that instant moment which soon would become the past.

Because most of my guests were not from Terracina, I showed them my favorite sites among them the town orphanage, the best villa ever. We decided to take a guided tour of the centro storico. The guide a handsome, distinguished man, an historian-archeologist shows us a statue of a Roman nobildonna (might be Caelia Macrina) recently found while excavating the Roman Theatre on the Piazza Municipale. A Roman woman - Caelia Macrina from Terracina. Having lost a young son, in his memory, founded and funded an orphanage for boys and girls. The sum was so large that the impoverished children were well taken care of long after she had died and her tradition is still carried out today.

I was so taken by her story that I quickly went to the best bookstore in town trying to find out more, after all she is a woman after my own heart, but no books were written about her, no pictures, the statue was headless. I searched the internet but not much there except

http://www.brooklynmuseum.org/eascfa/dinner_party/heritage_floor/search.php?psgroup=14

“Caelia Macrina
Flourished circa A.D. 150, Tarracina, Italy
Little is known about the Roman woman Caelia Macrina except that some time in the second century A.D., in the town of Tarracina southeast of Rome, she donated a large sum of money for the construction of a building and for a food fund to support 200 impoverished children. A dedicatory inscription originally attached to the building reveals that Caelia's welfare grants were somewhat unusual in that they were more generous to girls than was typical of the time.”

A few years ago, I was there at the Brooklyn Museum to see the exposition of the Dinner Party by Judy Chicago and did not take note of this woman Caelia, so admired by me at this very moment. Seeing her statue, the place where she lived, the building she funded was very emotional and memorable. This guided tour has opened a new world of interest of the Roman women and their roles they played in molding who we are today.

"Frances" By Viky

Estate 1999. Un piccolo bar in una piccola piazza di una piccola città sul mare. Al tavolo , sola ,prendeva un caffè o una granita: alta, abbronzata, i corti capelli bianchi.
Ci scambiamo un saluto un sorriso una battuta. Entriamo subito in confidenza e parliamo di tutto : figli, mariti, film, libri.
E' simpatica, gentile, generosa, sensibile, estroversa.
Ci troviamo bene e quando devo iniziare una lunga ,fastidiosa cura per i miei denti, decido di farlo a Roma così abbiamo modo di vederci ancora, dato che lei nel frattempo ha preso un appartamento in via Monserrato, vicino all'isola Tiberina dove mi devo recare regolarmente. E' l'accasione per tornare un po' ragazze, bighellonare tra i vicoli, andare a cinema, un concerto. La seduta dal dentista è solo una parentesi fastidiosa e poi via tra i banchi del mercato di campo de' fiori, in un bar per un gelato, una tazza di cioccolata...
Passa qualche anno poi tutto cambia : il compagno di Frances si perde per un'altra donna e lei deve tornare in America per affrontare avvilenti battaglie legali. Non perde la sua grinta anche se la sua vita è diventata difficoltosa ,ha impegni gravosi da affrontare ed ha poco tempo per tornare in Italia.
Vado ancora regolarmente a Roma ma mi manca la sua compagnia , i suoi entusiasmi, la sua verve. Passo nei luoghi in cui giravamo insieme ridendo e penso a lei così lontana e diversamente impegnata. Mi manca.....spero non per molto ancora......

"Frances" by Vicky

Summer 1999. A small bar,in a small piazza, in a small city by the sea. At the table, alone, drinking a coffee or a granita: tall, tanned, with short white hair. We exchanged a greeting, a smile, a joke. We quickly become close friends and we talk about everything: children, husbands, film, and books.

She's likeable, kind, generous, sensitive, and outgoing.

We enjoy each other’s company, so when I start my long and fastidious cure for my teeth, I decide to do it in Rome so that we can see each other more often, being that in the meantime she has bought an apartment on via Di Monserrato, near Isola Tiberina where I have regular dental appointments. It’s my occasion to go back and be a girl, to loiter between the alleys, to go to the movies, to a concert. The dentist appointments are only an annoying parenthesis and then we go in and out between the market vendors of Campo de’ Fiori, in a bar for an ice cream, a cup of hot chocolate…

A few years later and everything changes: Frances’ partner gets lost to another woman and Frances must return to America in order to face disheartening legal battles. She doesn’t lose her mojo though, even if her life has become problematic; she has arduous engagements to face and has little time to spend in Italy.

I still have regular appointments in Rome but I miss her company, her various enthusiasms, her verve. I pass by the places we used to roam together in laughter and I think of her, so far away and otherwise engaged. I miss her….and I hope not for much longer now….

"GETTING OLDER WHILE GETTING YOUNGER" by Heloise

In today's world if you are over 50 you need to get an avatar.
The technology of today is growing more sophisticated minute by minute and it is a major challenge.

Just ten years ago if you were looking for a job, you would call a real person who would actually speak to you. You would then use the only piece of technical equipment on your desk, the fax machine, to send your resume to that person or you would mail it. A week later you could call, you may not get the interview or the job but at least you were not ignored.
Fast forward to today. Humans no longer exist you must do your job searching on one of the many sites, whether job sites or social sites. You think you are applying for employment, but most likely will immediately start being bombarded with offers from non-humans from re-doing your resume for a price, to being asked to throw a fist full of money to one of the rabbits that promise to post your resume on over 1000 sites at once.

If your experience is in clothing like mine you watch the jobs and companies disappear, while you watch e-commerce grow larger by the day. I, of course, know enough about computers to buy on these sites, but I now have to face the new challenge of learning how to sell a product on an e commerce site.

I had my first interview for employment on an e-commerce site recently, and once I got pass the fact that the owners and staff were all younger then my children, which is a humbling experience, you realize how exciting this type of retailing can be.
I must learn the new technology by getting younger in my thinking. It was a positive interview, and this time I met real humans, not machines something that has not happen in a while.
I do not know if a job offer will come from it, but I will hope so.
In the meantime to all of us women of a certain age, with working experiences that often do not translate to today's world, take heart,we can continue to fight age, we will color our hair, get botox, social network, and learn not to be afraid of computers.
We will learn new technology, and we will be our own avatars in this new world.

Is that all there is?

On January 9th, I turned 62 and everyone has been saying to me "this is your year,” my friend Fausta, added “hey, you can now collect social security” Hoorah!! Hoorah!! This is great, finally the birthday that has 'earned me the right' to collect social security! I can really use the cash and I quickly go on line and get all the facts. After the short application process, however, it became a time of introspection and I’m thinking- “Is that all there is?” (Remember the song by Peggy Lee?) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qe9kKf7SHco#watch-main-area

I have entered a new Milestone, as I review my life I see that so many things I learned in elementary school have become obsolete. The world has changed. I continue to write drafts on paper by hand , and as I write this entry for instance, I realize that it’s no longer necessary to break up a word at the end of the line. The computer does it automatically, not only that but it checks your grammar and spelling. The list is endless, all these changes, one could go on forever. And at the end of all this, I’m just feeling old, and the poem, The road not taken “by Robert Frost” http://www.bartleby.co , comes to mind.

And I start thinking back to my Baruch College days. I would walk to class along Lexington Ave in the low 20’s, in those days there were lots of cheap hotels and in front of these cheap hotels there would be young pretty teenage girls, mostly blonde and all sweet. It got to the point where I felt I knew them. As time passed, I would see a change in their eyes. The young women mostly but teenagers would start out clean, smiling and happy, and after a few months their eyes were dead, there was no life in them, their bodies bruised and dirty. As I walked past them, tears would roll down my eyes. I wanted to help. I wanted to do something but didn’t know what to do or how to do it. I decided that when I had enough money I would do something. I’d set up a place for young teenage girls and boys to go to for help, a place that would protect them.

I haven’t yet realized that dream, but, as I write this entry, I know I still can. There are a few more things I need to clear up in my life, and then I will be free. In the meanwhile I will start planning for my new/old venture. If anyone out there has any ideas, please contact me.

By the way, is that all there is? NO there’s plenty more.

"Figli" by Viki

mia figlia incinta!!!! ma chi ci pensava mai ! certo, è naturale che la vita continui, che le generazioni si rinnovino, che ci sia questo forte istinto di maternità, eppure non ci pensavo proprio. E' bellissima l'idea di una nuova vita in lei, lei così dolce , ma io non posso fare a meno di pensare al futuro, a quando questo piccolo essere crescerà , da neonata tenerissima , poi bambina, poi adolescente e ragazza e adulta.
Come sarà, come diventerà ?....purtroppo temo la vita , le trasformazioni, i cambiamenti che avvengono nei figli.Quante sofferenze, notti insonni, ansie, angosce, attese, quante bugie ascoltate, inganni subiti da chi ami più della tua stessa vita.


Sono segni indelebili, impressi a fuoco, tatuati nel cuore che rimane ferito , graffiato. Impossibile dimenticare.
Ma questo non si può dire, suona blasfemo: e allora, sì, è bellissimo aspettare questa bimba, che lei porti tanta gioia a noi tutti, soprattutto alla sua mamma che la adorerà più di tutti e per lei potrebbe dare la vita.
Si, questa bimba mi restiturà la fiducia nella vita e sarà speciale e dolce e buona e gentile ......

Vicky "Children"

> My daughter pregnant! who ever thought of it! certainly, it is natural
> that life continues, that the generations renew themselves, that there is
> this strong instinct of maternity, nevertheless I never thought of it.
> The idea of a new life in her is beautiful, she is so sweet, but I cannot
> help myself but to think of the future, as to when this little being grows
> up, from tender infant, then child, then adolescent,then girl then adult.
> What will she be like? what will she become? ....unfortunately I fear life,
> the transformations, the changes that happen in our children. All the
> suffering, sleepless nights, anxieties, anguish, waiting, all the lies
> heard, deceits endured from the loved ones, the ones you love than your own
> life.
>
> These are indelible marks, imprinted on fire, tattooed in the heart that
> remains injured, scratched. Impossible to forget.
> But this is not to say, it sounds blasphemous: and then, yes, it is
> beautiful to wait for this baby, that she will bring us lots of delight to
> us all, above all to her mother that will adore her much more than all of us
> and for her would give her own life.
> Yes, this baby will restore in me the trust in life and she will be special
> and sweet and good and kind .....
>