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Reminiscences Recollections Once upon a time Time for nostalgia There was once a farm, once upon a time many years ago, that now existed only in her memories. It, too, had a story of its own, a life story of a home and of a hill. And of the young woman who lived there. WhenContinue reading “Farm Reminiscences”

September 11, 1944 About Myself First, I would like to introduce you to my family and give you a picture of my home. There are only four of us, my gifted, exacting father, my sweet, ever-busy mother, my impish, nature-loving sister and myself. During the summer we all worked harder than ever for before the warContinue reading “Erika High School Essay, Age 15”

Once upon a time  little old ladies foraged for wild salad greens in the fallow fields along the road. Defined as weeds by many,  crowding out more urbane peers, these humble plants gave spice and flavor to what otherwise    would have been a more pedestrian dish. The little old ladies and their rough homespun apronsContinue reading “Foraging for Memories”

George and Jean In the beginning, before Giulio, before those others, who then became part of my life, there was George. Golden jade dragons: George was, perhaps, the first of the people who had meant something to me. I had never had a crush on my high school classmates – indeed, never had a date.Continue reading “Watcher, Giulio, George, Jean IV”

Making hay was a story by itself. We used what we called our tractor, but which was actually a pick-up truck painted red, to pull the mowing machine with one of us sitting on it, raising and lowering the double row of blades that moved back and forth cutting the grass. The next step wasContinue reading “On a Farm One Makes Hay”

I watched. I wondered if I could call them friends. Acquaintances was, perhaps, a better word. Some did though become real friends. Like il Dottore.  I had been going through some papers to find an address – I must say I hate to throw papers of whatever kind away, including grocery lists – when aContinue reading “The Watcher: Florence continued III”

  Six a.m. Thump on the bed. Over to the window sill. The cat sits herself down and looks outside. Immobile, she stares out the window. I raise my head and look out too but all is calm. The leaves hang motionless, suspended, waiting for a breeze. Almost imperceptibly dawn merges into day. The cat Continue reading “The Cat”