As a Yank I’m pretty much a mutt when it comes to background. My Great Grandfather came through Ellis Island so I grew up with a decent bit of Italian influence.
Top 10 Things Uniquely Understood by People Raised in local Italian Households
10. Jordan Almonds wrapped in nets at various family functions
9. Luciano Pavoratti
8. Cupboards filled with tinned tomatoes
7. At least one family member with an ‘Italians do it better’ article of clothing
6. Summers at the Jersey Shore
5. Knowing how to correctly pronounce words like ‘Mozzarella’ and ‘Gavadel’
4. At least one family member working in Waste Management
3. Lepoard print attire accepted at both weddings and baby showers
2. Crucifixes on every wall
1. Wooden spoon bum slaps, given or received
I’m learning a lot about myself as a Writer during this trip. What inspires me, what to avoid, what’s good about what I’m doing… what sucks.
It’s good that I’m disciplined, and the years of practice spawned from my ‘hobby’ is helpful. It sucks that I am highly critical and ridiculously sensitive. What that basically means is I spend too much time hunched over pages feeling sorry for myself with a certain loathing of ‘I’ve got more than that, I can do better than this…’
The scent of the air in the country is transitioning from dry leaves to chimney smoke while I’m working… and working some more…