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”
Category Archives: Poems
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”
Immigrants
Once upon a time Beginning in 1892, Ellis Island in the port of New York began receiving immigrants, replacing the Castle Garden station. Steamships unloaded their third-class passengers where they were processed before being allowed into what to them was the gateway to a land of opportunity. Immigrants flocked from Ireland, fleeing famine, from Italy,Continue reading “Immigrants”
La Magna Via
Some books I read and then read again, leafing at chance through the pages. Not for the plot, not for the characters who have become acquaintances or friends. What entrances me may be the words themselves, the poetry. Most often though it is the philosophical thoughts that have made an inroad in my brain –Continue reading “La Magna Via”
The Sagra Part II
Local pop groups have set up their acoustic guitars and drums and a singer is trying out her repertoire. They seem to be popular despite their rather deafening volume as people start dancing. There may also be theater representations with plays in the local dialect and with improvised actors. In other words, an evening ofContinue reading “The Sagra Part II”
The Sagra Part I
I’ve had my supper and turned out the light. The sky is still pale for the moon is full as I visualize my friends at the Sagra del Bosco with the local families lining up to pay for their orders before finding their assigned tables. I have decided not to go, afraid it would tireContinue reading “The Sagra Part I”
Notes in The Night
Whenever a thought occurred to me that I didn’t want to lose, whenever I had what you might call an inspiration, I used to jot whatever it was down on a bit of paper. Particularly in the middle of the night. I would switch on the light and scribble whatever it was, hoping I couldContinue reading “Notes in The Night”
Xenia
I am in my shop just off Piazza Duomo when Carlo stops by. If you don’t have anything better to do, I’m going to see a friend in a small town in the hills. Want to come? Well, yes. I don’t have anything better to do and my sales assistant will see to the shop,Continue reading “Xenia”
Lugnano
Lugnano in Teverina (August 1993) You have to know it’s therebut even soit takes you by surprise.A tiny hilltop townwith down belowa far flung valley of olive grovesand fields of wheat. We are politely informedwhere to leave our car.A narrow spiral staircase takes us to the road.We cross and entera meander of streetsin an apparentlyContinue reading “Lugnano”
What Happens to Montalbano?
Camilleri, the father of the Italian police commissioner Salvo Montalbano, which became a series of mystery stories published by Sellerio, was originally a stage director and playwright. It is tempting to compare him to Pirandello, the Sicilian author known for his plays and short stories and awarded the Nobel prize in 1934. Camilleri died atContinue reading “What Happens to Montalbano?”
Homeless by Choice
Gaunt, with a straggly flowing grey beard and hair, he sits huddled in the doorway of the bank at the crossing of two of the main streets in town. Or you may find him on the short street that leads to the market where he is more sheltered from the wind. Wrapped in a blanket,Continue reading “Homeless by Choice”
If only or what if
Hah! It’s not the if only of several weeks ago. It has to do with the ould verbs. Could, would, should. Will have to check the etymology. Is it subjunctive? Oh dear, here one gets into Old English. I could have, I would have, I should have. None of which is what I did. However, this led me toContinue reading “If only or what if”
Old Age
Finally old age has caught up with me. I had thought of it as an inevitable disease, but about which we can do little. It is there,lurking and waiting to surface, like shingles. It may not appear for a long time, but it’s there. Sooner or later we will all be getting older. It dependsContinue reading “Old Age”
Accident
It was two,o’clock in the morning. I was asleep and Teah my dog barked. just once. She needed, or wanted, to go out to the patio, a few steps up. I let her out and on returning, the light goes out and I forget that there is a step. Suddenly I am on the floorContinue reading “Accident”
Christmas 2024
It’s Christmas! or Hanukkah, of whatever you like. It’s a time to celebrate family and love. I can’t say peace and prosperity since that seems rather far away in the world at this moment. So our best greetings from the Orvieto gang in the person of Costanza. Let’s hope for the future, which is aboutContinue reading “Christmas 2024”
Encounters
Fleeting encounters I remember, but do they? One never knows what life will hold in store. Throughout the years we cross paths with people of all kinds, for all kinds of reasons. Perhaps I was more likely to have a variety of encounters since I had a shop on the cathedral square, since the localContinue reading “Encounters”
Romanesque Memories
It must have been in the seventies. A friend of ours, one of several Marios around, was teaching a course on Romanesque art in Florence, for which a tour of France, Sardinia and Tuscany had been organized. First a word about Mario Bucci, a professor we all loved, perhaps because of, or in spite of, hisContinue reading “Romanesque Memories”
Erika Bizzarri 