Soundtrack for the Winter Solstice

Though these are images of Calitri the Charlie Brown Christmas theme is playing in my head.

Maybe it's the forlorn nature of the imagery or the lack of Christmas lights on via Fontana - Teresa's tabacchino being the only doorway with any festive color - that pulls me back to memories of my childhood and Charlie Brown or the imagined memories of my grandmother's childhood a century ago played out in shades of gray here on this street.

The winter view is from my balcony. The circle of land marked out in the snow a gentile but constant reminder of her spirit. The circle and the land around it for as far as you can see down the slope is still owned by zia Maria & the Cicoira family, direct relatives of mine. Parenti lontana.

Teresa is parenti lontana too, but by marriage. Cicoira nonetheless. I walk by her tabacchino almost every evening on my way home to my front door. It is a tiny space filled with a small sampling of just about anything you might need. The kind of goods the little ladies of the lane might stop in to buy last minute, being close at hand and open late. When I asked Teresa not too long ago how many years the shop had been here, she thought quietly for a moment, then calculated the ages of her mother (recently passed) and her grandmother (long gone) and replied, softly, '90 years'. Ninety years ago my grandmother Angelamaria and her brothers & sisters would have known & frequented Teresa's tabacchino on via Fontana too.

I love it here.

Ghosts of Italy

Today is my grandfather's Birthday.

Both my grandparents were born in November. Angelamaria on November 21 and Nicola onNovember 12. In Italy birthday rituals are reversed. That is, on the day, family and friends receive gifts from the honoree. It's usually a simple affair. In Calitri they bring the cake for the family for desert or offer their friends a drink or a coffee and a pastry at the bar.

From my first discovery of Calitri a decade ago, up to this week when I finally made residency in the town, I have received a hell of a line up of gifts from the ghosts of my grandparents. I call them centennial gifts and here is why:

In November 2000 I made my first foray into the village of Calitri and discover V.C. 1900 - my greatgrandfather's initials - carved into the keystone of via Fontana, 21. Turns out it is the birthplace of my grandmother Angelamaria Cicoira.

It's November 2005 and the 110th anniversary of Angelamaria's birth. Nearly

one hundred years to the day I am offered her childhood home on via Fontana - field stones set by hand by her grandfather, kept in the family for generations.

November 2007. The centennial anniversary of Nicola Paolantonio's maiden voyage to the new world. Age 17. He lands in NY harbor on July 4th 1907. Nearly one hundred years to the month on November 22, the New York Times publishes 'The Journey Home, Making a New Life in the Old Country' about my reverse journey to live in Calitri. The story focuses on my lost and found grandmother. I'll make a guess that the paper goes to press the evening of Nov 21, her birthday.

On November 11th, the eve of his 30th birthday, Nicola signs a Declaration of Intention from the Department of Labor renouncing his allegiance to King Victor Emmanuel of Italy. This year in the same week in November, not without some classic Italian twists & turns and then some extra personal effort ( or was it a gift? ) I achieved residency.

So. Here I always felt it was I who was honoring the ghosts of my grandparents for making the reverse journey to Calitri but seems it was Nicola and Angelamaria all along honoring and guiding me....Happy Birthday Pops.

Casa per casa

My new house number! In the tradition of arts of Calitri it is, of course, ceramic, personalized with a photo that has become my logo ...

Antionetta's Omaggio to Andrew Wyeth

Antionetta's double-loggia cantina is a just few steps from mine tucked away in a little vicolo off via Fontana. They were once both dwellings of a sort. Hand cut into tufa rock a hundred or more years ago, the grotto caves were gradually enhanced with terra-cotta floors and oak beamed lofts. Arched stalls & hand hewn wood boxes built to house the family pig chickens & other live food stuffs. Cubby holes laid in for kitchen utensils. The comforts of home? Now they resemble brigands roosts. Housing a world of odds & ends collected over a lifetime (or several) ... Her's is a lot cooler.