Once Upon a Time, a St. David's Day in Italy

My favorite St. David's Day (March 1) memory is a daffodil quest in southern Italy. I was visiting friends for a few weeks, near Naples. One of this delightful duo was shy about his southern accent & still-tentative English. My southern dialect--forget it; "regular Italian" - it kept slipping into French. Our Italian-speaking link was doing something important --foraging for dinner ingredients. Me? Of course, I was obsessed with flowers & on this weekend, daffodils. I forgot the Italian word, if I ever knew it. Finally after squeaking out 'spring, 'yellow,' & I don't remember what else in Italian, S. lit up & said, "trombone?" I, being an ass, said,"No, no. Trombone? What? No that's an instrument in inglese." Finally, slow me, oh. Daffodils. They are trumpet-shaped--ah.

The sight of an older man pretend-playing a horn instrument & a younger, somewhat exasperated English-speaking woman performing the universal hand-to-head circling motion amused a bunch of bored children with no immediate interests except a Saturday gelato. We made a little bow to the kids, & slunk away. After the forager returned, she explained what was what (after laughing a bit too much--ahem), & S. became obsessed with the idea that I should have trombone. I was embarrassed that I had not only called him crazy in a public market, but now I had given him a new mission. He's one of those lovely people around whom one should be careful to express any wish that he could possibly (& maybe not even possibly) fulfill.

Later that evening, as I fussed with the sitting room brazier, tossing in clementine peels to achieve the most fragrant scent, I looked up & there he was in the doorway, holding a gigantic bunch of the longest-stemmed daffodils I'd ever seen. Before or since. I don't know where or when he got them that day, but being an Italian he possessed a sense of the dramatic moment & thus waited for a post-dinner flourish.

Here are some lovely links to a celebration of St. David's Day weekend in Rome (yes, yes), the end of which involves daffodil distribution. Also, here is a link to a current National Museum of Wales exhibit: Italian Memories in Wales.

cariad & ciao

[photograph of Sophia Loren, I should look so good, via If It's Hip, It's Here; Scented Alley in Naples by golden puppy via flickr]

The Rose Thief

...c'est moi.

No, I don't think Sophia is stealing these beautiful roses; but I'm sure she can relate from growing up without much at all on the outskirts of of Napoli. I hope so. I could use some support (even imaginary). I have been clipping bits of an overgrown, messy Dortmund rose climber in front of my little brick building. I'm the only one who takes care of it, stringing it back, begging some zealous apartment dwellers to leave it be, not to complain to the office to rip it out. Over here in a corner, we don't have the perennials that Eleanor Roosevelt & friends planted (yes!) when the complex was built.

I will explain my indefensible behavior soon. Right now, I'm off to more scary dental doings. But I've been working on something regarding my flower problem (Last summer I had lovely dandelions in little green & blue bottles...hey, it was the best I could do for a few weeks...that & ok, a few yellow French marigolds...and...) It's going to be hot today & I think that's the end of the roses for this blooming. Too late to sneak out & take a last few (I left a ton on there). I hope the French marigolds are put in soon. Otherwise, it's parsley-in-a-creamer for now.

Beautiful Sophia by Alfred Eisenstaedt for LIFE via myvintagevogue (see Jessica's site in the right-sidebar).