This year the Christmas countdown, the never ending checklists, the holly that stings me every time I take it in the wrong way, the songs you have to listen to and the movies you have to watch otherwise it is not Christmas are stressing me out. I've always embodied a…
Before Amazon, before Santa Claus and his sleigh with reindeer, before all this there was the Befana, an old lady on a broom, a cross between a witch and a caring grandmother. She would visit your house during the night of the Epiphany and she would fill up your stocking with candy, chocolate coins, clementines,…
I call them the days in a bubble, those days ranging from Christmas to New Year's Eve. They have soft edges, they pass by slow but disappear quickly. I've always been lucky, first at school and then at work, as I've always had the chance to spend those days on holidays at home, like in…
As a child, we would buy ricciarelli in boxes at the supermarket. The cavallucci would arrive at home in a paper bag from San Gimignano, my granddad Remigio would purchase them in an old grocery store where he used to shop for everything he needed. We would also buy slices of panforte, sticky and traditional. A few…
On Christmas Eve my granddad Remigio and my grandmother Margherita would put my mum and my aunt to bed, closing behind them their bedroom door. In the living room they would prepare in secret and with the utter silence the Christmas tree. They chose every year a small juniper tree which would fill the…
Since I opened my blog, the pleasure of meeting new people went hand in hand with the urgency of turning those virtual contacts as soon as possible into real friendships, with a personal tone of voice, with a body I could hug, with the thrill of a proper conversation around a table…
