For whatever reason, well actually I know the reason, I started crying part way through, and had to take a break before I came back to finish reading this piece that feels like it was written just for me.
I just came in from my garden where I picked tomato’s and Basil, (yes rosemary is growing.) I’m in California, yet when I read your writings from Sicilia I’m instantly transported. Grazie Mille!
I read this last night. I turned in early because I was exceptionally tired (6:30 novena?), and my daughter was having a friend sleep over so they took over the downstairs - so I went up to bed thinking I'd just relax a bit. I kept dozing off - not because I wasn't completely enveloped in the story, but because I think my spirit maybe wanted me to experience it in a different way. Much of this is obviously a credit to the vibrant way you tell it...so much detail that in my lucid dream state I was very much there experiencing it myself. I spoke with the man, danced at the disco, felt wind in my hair on the drive, and smelled the rosemary - but just a little. I kept forcing myself awake and wondered if I should just save it for later...but I didn't want to because I wanted to keep the dream state going. I eagerly hanging on every word to see where we'd go next. I loved this so much that I shared it with my husband...I said, "this...this is what I'm after." He gets it...and agrees I need to find a way to take one of your immersions. So thank you for your the gift of your words and experiences. I completely agree with what Marie Pauline shared - if felt as thought it were written for me. This was just magical.
Ohhh, this makes me so happy and also want to cry. I never know what i randomly throw things down if it even makes sense. Thank you for receiving the essence— in your sleep/wake/dreamstate. I appreciate you so much.
Just gorgeous. This is such a perfect tale of how the island “drives”—if you let it. If you fight it…well good luck with that.
It’s so funny, my family (all Sicilian/Italian Americans) all hate Rosemary. With a passion, which I’ve been curious about since meeting her as such a powerful ancestor. But now you’re making me wonder, does it stem from fights like these? The tomatoey or briny fishy sauces, the dishes that survived, were not the place for her? Another clue, another echo. Another gift from you.
The only time i feel i have ever seen it used in cooking is Concetta, many years ago, made a white Sicilian style pizze — potato and rosemary. Maybe i have seen it with meat? Maybe there is a long legacy of fighting over where rosemary goes which then she opens the portal for what really needs to be said????
For whatever reason, well actually I know the reason, I started crying part way through, and had to take a break before I came back to finish reading this piece that feels like it was written just for me.
I just came in from my garden where I picked tomato’s and Basil, (yes rosemary is growing.) I’m in California, yet when I read your writings from Sicilia I’m instantly transported. Grazie Mille!
I am so happy it landed and also just feeling you big time. I get it.
I read this last night. I turned in early because I was exceptionally tired (6:30 novena?), and my daughter was having a friend sleep over so they took over the downstairs - so I went up to bed thinking I'd just relax a bit. I kept dozing off - not because I wasn't completely enveloped in the story, but because I think my spirit maybe wanted me to experience it in a different way. Much of this is obviously a credit to the vibrant way you tell it...so much detail that in my lucid dream state I was very much there experiencing it myself. I spoke with the man, danced at the disco, felt wind in my hair on the drive, and smelled the rosemary - but just a little. I kept forcing myself awake and wondered if I should just save it for later...but I didn't want to because I wanted to keep the dream state going. I eagerly hanging on every word to see where we'd go next. I loved this so much that I shared it with my husband...I said, "this...this is what I'm after." He gets it...and agrees I need to find a way to take one of your immersions. So thank you for your the gift of your words and experiences. I completely agree with what Marie Pauline shared - if felt as thought it were written for me. This was just magical.
Ohhh, this makes me so happy and also want to cry. I never know what i randomly throw things down if it even makes sense. Thank you for receiving the essence— in your sleep/wake/dreamstate. I appreciate you so much.
Thank you for your beautiful writing. I keep coming back to this one over the last day. Your writing guides me somehow. 🙏
I so appreciate this. Thank you for reading my writing! That alone keeps me guided.
Just gorgeous. This is such a perfect tale of how the island “drives”—if you let it. If you fight it…well good luck with that.
It’s so funny, my family (all Sicilian/Italian Americans) all hate Rosemary. With a passion, which I’ve been curious about since meeting her as such a powerful ancestor. But now you’re making me wonder, does it stem from fights like these? The tomatoey or briny fishy sauces, the dishes that survived, were not the place for her? Another clue, another echo. Another gift from you.
The only time i feel i have ever seen it used in cooking is Concetta, many years ago, made a white Sicilian style pizze — potato and rosemary. Maybe i have seen it with meat? Maybe there is a long legacy of fighting over where rosemary goes which then she opens the portal for what really needs to be said????