THE ITALIAN THING

 

From Nov. 8th to Dec. 15 you can purchase the Kindle edition of my book “The Italian Thing” for $1.99. I know you will enjoy reading all about our adventures and misadventures during our stay. Go to,https://www.amazon.com/Italian-Thing-Patricia-…/…/B00EL0AGIG, thank you and enjoy!!!

THE ITALIAN THING

 

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A small excerpt from chapter 16. You can read the rest in the book. It can be found on Amazon. Enjoy!!!

That morning, Pasquale had gone to work and Franca had gone to the beauty salon. The children were in school. Yes, believe it or not, they did have school that day but would be home by one P.M., the start of their vacation. So, Mike and I had the place all to ourselves.

We decided to take showers before everyone came home for the afternoon meal. We were trying to be as considerate as we could. I told Mike he could take his first. I reminded him about the water shortage and told him not to take too long because I didn’t want to use up all the water in his cousin’s tank before the next delivery. We had been taking showers every day when we’d first arrived, but had cut down to every other day.

When Mike was finished, I gathered my clothes and went into the bathroom. I turned on the faucet in the tub. Nothing. I turned on the other faucet—nothing. I went to the sink. No water. My heart jumped into my throat. I threw on my clothes and ran out of the bathroom yelling, “Mike! You used up all the water! There’s no water!”

What are you talking about?”

I’m telling you, there’s no water. The well is dry.”

Get out of here!” he said.

No, it’s the truth. Try turning on the water.”

He did. He tried every faucet in the house. Nothing. My biggest fear had come true. We had single-handedly used all of his cousin’s water in less than two weeks. We looked at each other, not knowing whether to shit or go blind.

I told Mike he had to call his cousin and tell him since he was the one who used up the last bit of water. I also suggested that we quickly pack our bags, call an airport car, and leave immediately. We actually started laughing; I think it was because we didn’t know what else to do. After our initial panic, Mike finally got the nerve to call his cousin.

Pasquale was at his office. I was totally embarrassed. We both felt terrible. Pasquale came home to evaluate the situation. It only took him about ten minutes to get to the flat, because he was (thankfully!) working at his office in Naro that day. When he arrived, were apologizing all over the place. He kept saying, “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.

I hated that phrase. It was almost like a polite cuss instead of calling us dumb-ass Americans. We told Pasquale we would pay for the water if he could get someone to come and refill the well. And yet, what were the chances of that, when the next day was Christmas Eve?

I was frantic. Mike was pale. Pasquale went down to the garage. When he came back up, he made a phone call, spoke a few minutes and hung up. He explained to Mike that we did not use up all the water, only the well pump was not functioning. There was plenty of water. The repairman would be coming within half an hour to fix the problem.

Pasquale also told us once again that everything would be fine, and for once, I was glad to hear it. Pasquale went back to work. Mike and I were relieved after the repairman came and installed the new pump. I was able to take my shower.

FOLLOWING YOUR OWN PATH By: Patricia Salamone

You were born in February in the late afternoon just as the sun was setting.

You were now on the path to your future but for now my bundle of joy.

They placed you in a bassinet, a heat lamp keeping you warm.

You placed your hands behind your head and surveyed your new world.

All were amazed at your action and snapped photos of your feat.

You were on the path to your future but for now my bundle of joy.

The first time I held you in my arms and close to my beating heart

I knew the love of a mother was instant from the start.

You had big brown eyes, long delicate fingers and dark-haired widows peek.

You had the scent of a newborn baby that made my heart fill with joy

and my eyes with tears of happiness.

You were on the road to your future but for now my bundle of joy.

As you grew, and too quickly I might add, you made us proud and

happy to be your mom and dad.

You are curious, smart and athletic with a kind and gentle heart.

With big brown eyes, long and delicate fingers and dark-haired widows peek.

You are on the path to your future but for now my bundle of joy.

SISTER, SISTER

I have a sister, a baby sister. She is not a baby now, but, she will always be my baby sister.

She is beautiful, loving, a great mom, grandma, friend, and, sister. She is kind to a fault. Debbie will help anyone, and if she can’t she will find a way. But, yes there is a but. She listens to people who slam her self-esteem, her kindness and her love. There is no unconditional love in these people. They are mean and take advantage of her kindness.

I am writing this to let you know how much I love you, Debbie. I know you will never stop speaking with people that do this to you, but I also want you to know, no matter what your choices are, I will always love you, and, I will be here, even if it’s only to listen. Please don’t let others suck the life out of you. Know that your son is a good man and he loves you too. I want my followers and anyone who reads this to know how wonderful you are, but most of all I want you to know it, in your heart and soul. I am and until my dying day I will always be your sister and I love you unconditionally.

xoxoxo Pattifirst love

FATHER’S DAY

FATHER’S DAYThe photo is of my brother August (Augie) and my dad William (Willie) they are together in the photo and are together again, my brother passed in 2003 at the age of 57, he was also a wonderful dad.

There are many ways we remember our fathers. My dad was a quiet man who along with my mom raised six children, five girls, and one boy. My oldest sister born in 1939 my youngest sister in 1958. Life was not easy for my parents, yet they managed to keep a roof over our heads, food on the table and made sure we all attended school. My dad was a truck driver, my mom a homemaker. I used to think she didn’t work, boy was I wrong. What we did have an abundance of in our home were love and guidance. My parents were not educated beyond the eighth or ninth grade but had many talents. Daddy could fix or build anything from painting to building a house and my mom who was of Italian decent (Neopolitan) was a great cook and baker.

Today, however, we are celebrating Father’s Day and although my dad passed at a relatively young age (67) he left a legacy of love, respect, honesty, joy, loyalty, unity, and fun. I have dedicated the following for him on this special day and know that he is smiling down upon us all. Happy Father’s Day daddy, you may not be here but will never be forgotten. We will always remember.

DAD                                                                                                                                                            By: Patricia Kruck-Salamone  PATTI (2)

A quiet man but very wise, hair like silver and gray-blue eyes.

His stature small but very strong, he taught us all right from wrong.

He labored hard throughout the years, this quiet man shed so few tears.

Through all the hard times he stood tall, working and teaching and loving us all.

He taught us to hold our heads up high and do our very best, to think for ourselves not follow the rest.

He never complained that his life was tough, he never complained about not having enough.

He made me feel safe and happy and free, he made me feel I’d be all I could be.

If I could just see him one more time, I’d say “Dad you did great we all turned out fine.”

With much love from your third daughter Patti. xoxo