MIMOSA AND MOTIVATION

Mimosa blossom is very much the order of the day for the festa della donna [International Women's Day] so it was nice to be presented with a sprig of it with my Sicilian orange juice in the bar this morning and lovely to receive the gift on the left from a friend:

I thought it would be appropriate, on this day, to tell you about ten Italian women who have inspired me - well, more than ten, really, as there are whole convents of nuns involved - but it started at ten!

Teresa Mattei

Firstly, if you are wondering why the mimosa is the symbol of International Women's Day in Italy, it was the idea of one Teresa Mattei , activist, partisan and one of the "mothers of the Italian Constitution".  

The other great ladies on my list come in no particular order and I make no apologies for the fact that several of them are writers. I'm just made that way.

Oriana Fallaci has fascinated me since my student days and I learnt only recently that the woman once known as "Italy's most aggessive journalist" could be just like the rest of us when she fell in love!

Elsa Morante was another writer whose work I started reading as a student and in my opinion her greatest novel remains La Storia or History. Of that other literary lady who is so popular both here and in Britain, namely signora Ferrante, I have read only one volume, so I am reserving judgement for now.  If I get hooked you'll be the first to know!

The works of Natalia Ginzburg were a comfort to me in my student days and they are a comfort to me now.

Rita Levi Montalcini, who left us almost five years ago, was a scientist and Nobel laureate who, even at the age of 100, had a special empathy with the young, whom her achievements and words continue to excite. The world is poorer without her.

Rita Levi Montalcini depicted in flower petals at the Noto Infiorata, 2011

Franca Viola

No woman living in Sicily can forget Franca Viola, whose determination not to submit to bullying changed Italian law.  She lives happily today in Alcamo.

Maria Grammatico, Ericean pastry cook who told her story to Mary Taylor Simeti in Bitter Almonds, was brought up in a convent, where she learnt to make pastries. I have yet to achieve my ambition of visiting her pastry shop in Erice.

There are still convents in Sicily where the nuns make and sell pastries to raise funds for maintenance or good causes and I'll never forget the day I bought these, through a grille, from a convent in Agrigento. You have my admiration, dear sisters:

The story of Daniela Spada is one I read recently and who could not be inspired by this lady's courage and the determination with which she fought her way back from devastating illness? I learnt so much from this book.

Artemesia Gentileschi is a woman I've admired since the first film about her came out in the 1990s. More talented than her father and brothers, if ever a woman literally suffered for her art, it was she. Artemesia continued painting, against all the odds, and was the first woman to become a member of the Florentine Accademia di Arte del Disegno.

Finally, the word pazienza is not in my vocabulary and I've often said it should be banned in Italy as it is too often used to excuse inefficiency by the very victims of that inefficiency. However, when pazienza is employed to create great or small works of art, I wish I had it so, as we are coming up to Easter, I would like to express once again my admiration for The Palm Lady.

I hope you've all had a wonderful festa della donna!

DOMENICA DELLE PALME

This was one of my most popular posts of 2010 and, indeed, ever.  I am publishing it again on this Palm Sunday.

She has been there all week, the palm lady, sitting at the side of the road, deftly weaving fronds into objects of beauty.  She sets up her stall long before the morning rush hour begins, and she is still there as everyone hurries home for lunch.  She carries on braiding and plaiting, adorning her  finished palms with ribbons of all colours, through the silent siesta hours and as the shutters go up again for the evening reopening.  As darkness defeats her, she stops, but she is there again the following morning, bright and early.  On Sunday she continues her dexterous craft and only when the bells for the last Mass of this Palm Sunday morning have sounded does she pack up her wares for another year.  I hope she is having a rest.

THE PALM LADY

She has been there all week, the palm lady, sitting at the side of the road, deftly weaving fronds into objects of beauty.  She sets up her stall long before the morning rush hour begins, and she is still there as everyone hurries home for lunch.  She carries on braiding and plaiting, adorning her  finished palms with ribbons of all colours, through the silent siesta hours and as the shutters go up again for the evening reopening.  As darkness defeats her, she stops, but she is there again the following morning, bright and early.  On Sunday she continues her dexterous craft and only when the bells for the last Mass of this Palm Sunday morning have sounded does she pack up her wares for another year.  I hope she is having a rest.

BUONA DOMENICA DELLE PALME..

.. and pace to you, wherever you are.

MY WORLD AT 1 PM

I just love the atmosphere of small Italian towns at 1 pm: there is nothing like the noise, bustle and the sense of excitement in the air as everyone looks forward to the most satisfying meal of the day. A lot of waving and greeting goes on, car horns honk happily and amazingly detailed conversations take place as their drivers hail some pedestrian acquaintance and shout their family news to him or her as they pass.

As Simi and I stroll along, I see that the roadside vegetable-seller has a lorry full of broccoli and artichokes, the latter having gone up in price from €2,50 last week to €3 for a box of 30. [Perhaps they are bigger today.] His chosen music this lunchtime is a traditional Italian dance tune . Simi hears it, catches the mood and looks set to dance!

The food shops won’t close till 1.30 or 2 pm so people are still darting in and out of them to obtain their last-minute essentials and among these will be bread [which will have arrived no more than half an hour ago] cheese and perhaps a nice packet of finely cut speck or prosciutto.

Opposite Mr T’s the children spill out of school and rush over to his store, where, like children everywhere, they stock up on lollipops and sweets – this despite the fact that they are about to partake of at least a three-course lunch. Mr T is ready for them and has his tall son standing at the door trying to keep some semblance of order. He fails, of course, but gives in good-naturedly.

Some of the hospital staff saunter along to one of the cafés, where the name of the pasta dish of the day has been proudly chalked onto a board outside. Most are content with just a plate of this and perhaps some fruit and a coffee. The background music inside is loud but you would not succeed in hearing a single note above the chatter if you were to enter! Today, though, it is warm enough to eat outside and many do. There are three cafés to choose from and all do a roaring trade.

To my delight, at either end of the street palms are being plaited into beautiful trecce [tresses] ready for Sunday and the finished ones are displayed on car bonnets. I have to buy one and the seller says he is “honoured” when I ask if I can take a photograph.

Now we stroll back and it is already quieter, at 1.30. By 2.10 it will seem like a ghost town, for all will be a tavola and many will soon be asleep. But we enjoyed the fun while it lasted.

What’s your world like at 1 pm?

A GROAN AND A SMILE

And finally, for tonight, a groan because earlier I listened to last night's Archers episode on the internet and have learned that the Eddie Grundy character is to attempt a "town cry" in Italian! I think I will have to stop listening until after this dire and painful event as I will not be able to stand it....

And a smile because Simi and I have just been for our evening walk and outside the greengrocer's the assistants are sitting on upturned crates tying together large palm fronds with coloured ribbon ready for Palm Sunday [when everyone here will carry one].