Rome with Carolyn, 8 may 2015 Over ten years ago. When living here in Rome was still something to be envied. The Janiculum. Dinner at Lo Scarpone. A large entrance courtyard with a flowering vine covering the whole area. Then in with tables and let’s say real food, although they also had pizza. In oneContinue reading “Memories”
Author Archives: Erika Bizzarri
Coming Back
Coming back. Returning. To a place. But without the people you saw there every day it was not the same. So you cut short your stay. You left. Surely, though, I want to tell you, you can return to a place without the people. A place can be seen for itself alone. You can experienceContinue reading “Coming Back”
Mother Tongue
I’m translating from Italian to English. But is English my mother tongue? Since my mother’s mother tongue was German, her first words to me, her infant daughter, were undoubtedly in German, but I don’t consider that my mother tongue. It might be so in a sense, for I probably absorbed it as I did my mother’sContinue reading “Mother Tongue”
Birthday
97 years ago. I find it strange and somehow revealing that my father didn’t mention my mother’s name – after all seems she played an important part in this event. The years have passed, and now that I am 97 I find myself thinking of the many things I wish I had done, or hadContinue reading “Birthday”
Aftermath of Phone Books
I doubt one can still find those thick phone books which told you the telephone number and street where a person lived. Not only that but they doubled as cushions to raise toddlers high enough to sit at a table with grown-ups. Those large unwieldy objects are objects of the past, but small personal phoneContinue reading “Aftermath of Phone Books”
Burning Memories
When I lived in New York studying at the university, most of my friends were Jewish. It was something I simply took for granted. They might have been Greek or Albanian or Indian. Most of them paid little attention to the fact that my family was of German stock. But it was not until IContinue reading “Burning Memories”
Cold Nose Two
I know it’s cold so don’t even try to poke my nose outside. I lie in bed waiting for my son to finish whatever he is doing at the computer since he must help me to put on my brace. Thoughts begin to swirl around my head. I should really get up but I can’tContinue reading “Cold Nose Two”
Cold Nose
Notes to oneself My nose is cold. Must be cold outside. True. It is January. Costanza is on the couch. Or is it called the sofa. She’s wrapped in a blanket. The blanket with hearts on one side. And with wooly curlicues on the other. The book I’m reading has a young man called theContinue reading “Cold Nose”
Sears and Montgomery Wards
Oh dear. The NY Times has an article that Sears is about to disappear for the second time. I suppose Montgomery Wards also disappeared years ago and with the two of them there go the dreams of my childhood. How my sister and I would wait for the postman’s car to drive up the dirtContinue reading “Sears and Montgomery Wards”
The letter C and A Special Birthday
December is marked by the letter C. There is of course Christmas but there is also Carolyn, Cynthia, and most important Costanza. Carolyn, you were just a student when first you came to stay with us, rather perplexed and not quite sure what you were doing in an unknown Italian household as you were finishingContinue reading “The letter C and A Special Birthday”
Dec. 24
A roundup of my beloved poems – a few of those countless excerpts that inhabit the library of my mind. There are many others I would add, but they, for now, must remain under cover. Wake! For the Sun, who scatter’d into flightThe Stars before him from the Field of Night,Drives Night along with themContinue reading “Dec. 24”
Voice
I GIVE YOU MY THOUGHTS. I GIVE YOU MY WORDS. I GIVE YOU MY VOICE. Thoughts are always in the form of words. I can hear them in my mind, enunciate them. You too can hear them. But it is how they are said that matters. There’s a difference between giving you my thoughts inContinue reading “Voice”
Lost Words
LOST WORDS – BONDMAID Ramblings for the end of the week. No more than ramblings for that’s all I can do this week. Since the book I’m reading is The Dictionary of Lost Words, I decided I should look up rambling, although it isn’t one of the lost words. Rambling. Lengthy or inconsequential. (Typical of Trump I add)Continue reading “Lost Words”
People and Pigeons
There they are, a gaggle of ladies sitting ìn a row on the long metal bench under the portico of San Andrea. There’s an odd male between one contingent and the other. There used to be a florist here, with her offerings of calla lilies, fuchsia cyclamens, carnations, and roses from Israel or Holland. ItContinue reading “People and Pigeons”
Thanksgiving
THANKSGIVING. TO WHOM SHOULD WE GIVE THANKS? Really don’t know why, as a family, we celebrated Thanksgiving. Or even Christmas or Easter in a household that is eminently non-religious. Although Thanksgiving is not a religious occasion. I suppose Columbus called what we call turkey, pavo, in Portuguese or Spanish. The Puritan invader who arrived onContinue reading “Thanksgiving”
Sunday
For this week, just a thought. Not only are books friends, but they are also what helps make new friends and what connects friends. A way of keeping conversations going when you don’t see each other every day. Or perhaps have never even seen each other. They are such important parts of our lives. BothContinue reading “Sunday”
Three Books
There are three books half covered by a quilt next to a box of Kleenexes on my bed. Judi Dench on her delving into the psychology of the Shakespearean characters before bringing them to life on stage, “Held” by Anne Michaels, short stories in Italian by Camilleri. How differently one reads them! Most of myContinue reading “Three Books”
Not a Madeleine
But a Mounds bar. Coconut and dark chocolate. A Mounds bar from the vending machine along the side of the station sidewalk while I wait for the train to come swooshing in. The year 1952. A subway station in New York. I have always liked coconut but it has to be paired with dark chocolate.Continue reading “Not a Madeleine”
Three Beginnings
What shall I write today? It is already Tuesday. Perhaps about Judi Dench and Shakespeare since I’m reading Judi Dench the Man Who Pays the Rent. Each night four or five pages of bedtime reading, no more. Of marveling how Judi analyses each of the characters she then brings to life on the stage. How she inhabits,Continue reading “Three Beginnings”
Day After Day
A DAY IN THE LIFE OF AN ALMOST 97 YEAR OLD LADY WHO HAD THE MISFORTUNE TO FALL AND BREAK HER LEG A YEAR AGO Hard to realize I’m no longer independent. Hard to realize my lovely dog has crossed the rainbow bridge. Now who invented that idea? I find there is a real rainbowContinue reading “Day After Day”
Erika Bizzarri 