Monday, November 29, 2010

Tinted Sunscreen For Rosacea

Collegiove...e il mio papà!

remember with nostalgia Collegiove ... In this remote mountain village of just 200 souls to 1000 meters above sea level in the province of Rieti I spent the summer of 1984. I was 10 and my father, Chief Post Office had been transferred there for a career. A whole year away from home ... away from the sun of Sicily and the snow in the mountains near the Gran Sasso
remember that the car was filled with homemade tomato sauce from Mom, I remember the emptiness that was created in memory his family ... calls every morning before my brother and I were going to school, to wish us a good day and to make sure we went to school and do not really rimanessimo to bed, perhaps relying on the mother's heart softer.
remember that summer we spent there and we reached Rome, I mother and my brother in a sleeper train in Rome ... A dad greeted us at the station.
remember curves that we faced to reach Collegiove, I remember the smell of the woods mushrooms, moss. We used the sea breeze ... I felt like Heidi of the mountains.
remember the small office where he did almost everything, Director, and doors. And I remember l'emozione e la felicità sul volto di mio padre appena ci presentò quella gente semplice che l'aveva "adottato" soprattutto durante l'inverno rigido. Già, la ricordo ancora quella gente semplice che profumava di genuinità, di formaggio e di camino. L'età media era 70 anni almeno. Erano tutti anziani e se anche anagraficamente non lo erano, dimostravano davvero molto di più della loro età
Ricordo lo zio Nunzio, dolcissimo vecchietto che passava tutta la giornata seduto in una panchina davanti casa e sapeva dire PATATA in tutte le lingue del mondo. Divertiva tantissimo me e mio fratello, ricordo la moglie Pasquarosa, con i capelli bianchi raccolti in testa, sempre impegnata in cucina a preparare la fresh pasta.
then I remember Maurice and Irma, the couple's youngest country. They were our neighbors. She led the sheep to graze in the morning and tell the truth, goat ... "smelled" the whole house
remember Joseph, a stocky man who had donkeys and horses and that he had never left the country, and not He had never seen the sea. My father do not hesitate to get in the car and take him to see the sea. My dad told me that thrilled so much to cry.
remember a lady, I can not remember the name, which served as a snack for me and my brother genuine ham served over a slice of homemade bread cut con un grosso coltellaccio e appoggiato al petto.
Ricordo l'ortica, il formaggio fatto in casa, il mio primo libro letto sotto un bellissimo albero, i girini di uno stagno, i funghi porcini...
Ricordo le gite per raccogliere funghi, le gite a Tivoli con il suo bel parco, Terni, l'Aquila, le cascate delle Marmore, Perugia e la città dei Ragazzi, i paesini limitrofi come Collalto Sabino, Nespolo e il lago di Turania, il Gran Sasso d'Italia raggiunto in funivia e tanto tanto altro...
Ricordo il mio magnifico e straordinario papà, scomparso nel 2002 e che oggi avrebbe compiuto 67 anni

0 comments:

Post a Comment