I remember where I was

When I heard about Elvis Presley’s death, I stood at the steps of a hotel in Milano Marittima, Italy. I had just stepped out on my way to pick up the Bildzeitung* -the worst of all German newspapers- but also the only newspaper Germans were able to get with a three-day delay, when they enjoyed their summer vacation in Italy.

Song Lyrics Sunday -Rome

The first time I visited Rome the Capital City of Italy, only 6 hours away from our farm in South Tyrol, I felt at home. I had never been there before, but had walked the streets of Rome for many hours in my mind at school, when we learned all about the Roman Empire. I had wept for the innocent and poor who were tortured, or were just a human toy in the brutal games the rich invented to entertain themselves and the masses.

Things you cannot blog about! But why?

Most and foremost, don’t ever write about religion, because good lord almighty you might rattle the boat. It’s almost as bad as writing about politics! Which is -if you live in the United (divided) States of America, perhaps the biggest blogging offense you can commit.

Fair Trial or Fairy Tale?

Going back in time, I recall our short vacations in Italy. Remember, I was born and raised >>>here<<<. Right after lunch, before the shops closed during the hot afternoons, one of us kids was sent to a magazine stand to pick up a German or Austrian newspaper, which by then was three days old. We lived! Nothing was so dramatic back then.

Wordless Wednesday

 

It’s snowing

It started snowing last night. I felt it when I woke up. The darkness outside was brighter, the silence quieter and my soul smiled. 

Pesto Rosso

The most of us think about the classic Pesto Genovese, the traditional green pesto from Genoa, made with fresh basil and pine nuts; but there are actually various types of pesto -originating from different regions of Italy using local ingredients. The name pesto comes from the Italian word pestare, meaning crush or pound, as it was originally made with a mortar and pestle.

Antipasto – The Dinner Overture

Antipasto is like the overture to the opera, it announces that something special is about to begin. The colors, the smell, the artful compositions remind us that it is time for pleasure now; time for relaxation and indulgence, time for the Italian meal. 

Italy – Austria – Germany – USA and then some

I was raised right between Italy and Austria. “So, where did you go to school,” people often asked me and my answer confused them even more. I went to school in the South of Germany, three hours away from the small village that I called home. Like life wasn’t complicated enough the way it was. 

La Dolce Vita

Photography Dale Rogerson

Often she brings home a pizza from the little Italian café at the corner.

She turns on the music, listens to Dean Martin and opens a bottle of wine.