What I am NOT getting for my birthday

Hello! I am here to provide a public service announcement: Today is World Nutella Day.

I am also here to tell you that Nutella solves a lot of problems. Once, after a particular trying day dealing with a toddler and his two brothers, I closed myself in the pantry with a jar of Nutella and a spoon. A few minutes later, I emerged a new person.

I mean, a spoonful of Nutella will have you wondering, “Whoa. Where did all my problems go?”

Okay. A slight exaggeration. But I am allowed to indulge in hyperbole because today is also my birthday which we are NOT celebrating until later this month when we fly to Las Vegas where, I am told, I can pick out my birthday present.

What do I want? Tickets to see Adele in concert.

What am I not getting? Tickets to see Adele in concert.

Not only are all her concerts sold out, but any available tickets are astronomically expensive. The most expensive ticket I ever purchased was to see Hamilton at the Kennedy Center in Washington DC. Just prior to purchasing those tickets I came across this Google image.

To put things in perspective, I would have to sell more than one body part to go see Adele.

Again with the hyperbole!

So no to Adele, but yes to a Cirque du Soleil show.

And because life is a circus, I looked up famous events that happened on this day in history. This is what I found: on 5 February AD 62, an earthquake struck the towns of Pompeii and Herculaneum. Historians believe this was the precursor to the eruption of Mount Vesuvius which destroyed both towns a few years later.

I am all shook up. (See what I did there? Las Vegas … Elvis … )

Yikes. Reminds me that in 2017 there was a Hurricane Maria. But that happened in September, so not birthday related at all.

For someone who is one year older and wiser (is wisdom a given, or only for some?) this post is a little all over the place (you think?) with body organs for sale and earthquakes and hurricanes. 

But HELLO? 

Nutella.

Back to where I started, which is a good way to end.

Grateful for the Intangible

Every morning I wake up with ideas: to do this, make that, write a poem, finish the project. For me, creativity blossoms in the early morning light, which often propels me out of bed so I can make good on some of those ideas. 

It's a good way to start the day, and this morning was no different. But this time, instead of taking the ideas and running with them, I held them gently while I was suffused with an overwhelming sense gratitude for these intangible gifts that God gives us: the ideas, thoughts, feelings, wishes, and dreams. 

What precious gifts they are. 

thoughts

sometimes i have a thought

plucked out of the air

thin and wispy

which poof! disappears

where does it go,

this thought that was but no longer is?

sometimes i have a thought

a cloud-like puff which drifts

to my hands, my legs, my heart,

the words I speak –

propelling me to

create, help, console, dream.

sometimes a cloud thought

is dark, thunder-like
sunless

raining seeds of paralysis –

self-doubt, insecurity,

unworthiness, fear.

today i had a thought

i need a thought-weatherman

to herald clouds –  

the wispy, puffy, or thunderous

because sometimes

I cannot tell them apart.

*from the files of very bad poetry by bia

I love ...

 I love pathways to the sea 

and grandparents on benches 

and shadows on walls 

and moments on seashores.

Life Lately: Winning a Sports Argument, Las Vegas, a Tall Tale, Albus Dumbledore, God's Creatures, a Brouhaha

1- During lunch I had a sports discussion with Joe, and I am pretty sure I won. It started when he commented that the NFL season is almost over, to which I responded, "Ha!" I was a smidge sarcastic. But really, I know better. No sports season EVER comes to a complete end because there are preseason, postseason, scrimmage, exhibition, and mid-season games. Each season bleeds into the next. Am I right or am I right?

2- And to prove my point, we just watched a commercial for USFL which starts in April. Ha! I DEFINITELY won that argument. 

(the Philadelphia Eagle by Nicholas)

3- Speaking of sports, I am going to Las Vegas next month and the last time I went (a girls' trip to celebrate my sister-in-law's birthday) we met Pete Rose. Of course, I did not know who Pete Rose was at the time, but I did afterwards. I also met Nicolas Cage, but he was fake. I always wished it had been the other way around: a real Nicolas Cage and a fake Pete Rose.  

4- The Nonni were over for lunch today. My Dad likes to tell tall tales, and today he told a doozy. I would tell you, but I do not even know where to begin. I can say it started with an uncle who liked to eat frog legs, and it went from there.  

5- On audible I am listening to the first Harry Potter book in Italian. It is interesting to see how character names are changed in different translations of the books. In France, for example, they decided to translate all the characters names into French, in Spain they left all the names in English, while in Italy the translators used a mix of Italian and English names. 

The biggest surprise for me in the Italian version? Albus Dumbledore is changed to Albus Silente. 

6- I know I am late to this party, but I am hooked on Masterpiece Theater's All Creatures Great and Small after having binged the first two seasons last week. Udderly charming!  (See what I did there?)

7- And just as I end this post there is a brouhaha on the football field. Players behaving badly. Tsk. Tsk. So I leave you with these fighting images ...

Speak to Me Sunday: Polishing Silver, a Mitsubishi Eclipse, and God

This is a story about polishing silver, a 23-year-old car, and God. Seemingly random topics, but if you stick with me everything will come together…

“The best way to polish silver is to use it.”

That was one of the first lessons I learned last spring when I started working at Angevine’s Fine Silver & Gifts, and as someone who was getting a crash course on silver and flatware patterns, I appreciated the simplicity of that lesson. And it was something I could share while maneuvering through the antique silver world: when a customer came in to buy silver polish but was complaining about having to polish their Christmas silver, I would say, “Well, you know what they say. The best way to polish silver is to use it.”

Simple. Helpful. Useful. True.

(Now, here is where I deviate, but trust me. It will all come together.)

Two months after starting this part-time job, we dropped off our youngest son at the University of Georgia to begin his freshman year. We had gone back and forth whether Timothy would need his car on campus, and after discussing all the pros and cons, Timothy decided to leave his beloved 2000 Mitsubishi Eclipse at home with the STRICT instructions that we had to occasionally drive his car because it was not good for a 23-year-old car to sit idle.

So once a week, Joe and I fire it up (and I use those words because that car ROARS to life) and drive it to the Kroc Center. (Once we drove it to church, but we got a little self-conscious the sound of that engine coming to life was ruining everyone’s post-Mass glow.)

(Now pay attention. Here is where things begin to make sense.)

So yesterday we took off the cover and drove the 2000 Mitsubishi eclipse to the Kroc Center where, in the middle of a workout, I started thinking how so much of life is this paradox: to use what is given to us, we need to use it to keep on using it.

Whether it is our bodies, our minds, or our talents, the only way to keep them in working form so we can continue to use them, is to use them.

Simple. Helpful. Useful. True.

The same can be said of our spiritual life. There is a reason our walk with God is referred to as the “road less traveled” because it takes work, effort, and perseverance. We have to use our legs to stay on the path, our minds to be aware, our hearts to discern God’s will. But like that Christmas silver, if we stay “polished”, if we use our legs and minds and hearts, it becomes easier to do what we need to keep on journeying; and like the Mitsubishi eclipse, if we don’t hide our light under a bushel, if we use scripture and share our talents, idleness become fruitful.

At this point I am sure you are thinking: Whoa, Maria. Polishing silver, a 23-year-old car, God … you think way too much. So I will pack it up, tie the proverbial red bow, and bring it full circle.

Challenge your mind. Move your body. Share your talents. Read the bible. Drive the car.

And use the silver.

Once Upon a Time at the Movies

Once Upon a Time I drove Timothy and a friend to the movie theater. Since it was the first time we allowed Timothy go to the movies alone, I walked them inside to make sure there were no problems with the tickets (which I had ordered earlier in the week) and to ... well ... watch them enter the theater.

We walked up to the lady who was scanning the tickets, and when she seemed puzzled that there were three of us standing there but only two tickets, I quickly explained what I was doing.

"Which one is your son?" she asked.

I pointed to Timothy.

"Do you know what a good mom you have?" she said to him.  "Your mom makes sure to know where you are, she knows your friends, she walks you inside to make sure there are no problems. What do you say?"

Poor Timothy looked like a deer in headlights.

"Thank you?" he sputtered.

"That will work," said the woman. "But you really need to say thank you GOD. You are a blessed to have a mom who takes care of you."

Well. How about that? I love people. 

I walked out to my car grinning like an idiot because sometimes …

sometimes it really does take a village. 

The Story of a Book

In early 2020, I spoke to over 100 women at the Aiken Newcomers’ Club monthly luncheon about my book, An Ocean, an Airplane, and Two Countries Full of Kisses. It was my fourth book talk, and the one in which I felt the most comfortable giving. It was also my last book talk because then the pandemic hit and, as you know, the world came to a sudden halt.

So here I am, three years later, remembering. Because it was a good memory. Because a woman who heard my talk that day signed up for our Girls' Trip to Italy last October. Because I am writing again.

And since there is always a story behind the book, here is mine …

The Story Behind a Book

Once upon a time, my high school Spanish club held a fund raiser which required each member to sell boxes of Krispy Kreme doughnuts. This was so out of my comfort zone. We had only recently moved to Georgia and I was struggling – to fit in, to be less shy, to be happy when I just wanted my old life back in Italy. So the thought of going door-to-door selling doughnuts to strangers filled me with anxiety. In the end, I sold two boxes to an elderly couple who lived behind us and a few boxes to our neighbors across the street. I used my babysitting money to buy the rest. 

Why am I telling you this story?

In December 2018 I formally announced that my book, An Ocean, an Airplane, and Two Countries Full of Kisses, was officially released and available for purchase. Truthfully, I could have made the announcement earlier, but I delayed because I wanted to do it in a way that didn’t make me feel as if I were selling those boxes of Krispy Kreme doughnuts.

And yet, if there is one thing I learned from writing this book is that I’m not that same person anymore. During those first years when we first moved to Georgia, when I was trying to figure it all out, it was the written word—in all its forms—which gave me comfort. I read voraciously (my first job as a teenager was working in a library), I kept a journal, and I wrote stories. But mostly, it was the weekly letters from Nonna, my Italian grandmother, that gave me what I needed to keep trying. Nonna’s words (and her love) grounded me in ways nothing else could.

Eventually, I did find my way. Things became good, then better, and then even great.

It wasn’t until many years later when my mother and I were going through Nonna’s letters—years and years of letters—that I realized the true power of the written word. Just seeing Nonna’s handwriting helped me remember her hands, large and strong and thick-veined. Just reading her letters made me remember her passion, her laughter, and even what her voice sounded like. Her written words evoked memories, feelings, and more than a little nostalgia, and I recognized how so much of what she wrote and who she was could be woven into the fabric of my life—of who I was, am, and always will be.

The very next day I began writing An Ocean, an Airplane, and Two Countries Full of Kisses.

So, while contemplating how to announce my book in a way that was meaningful, the image of the Spanish Club fundraiser and those pesky boxes of Krispy Kreme doughnuts popped into my mind. But you know what? The memory made me smile. I am not selling doughnuts anymore; in fact, I am so beyond those doughnuts.

I’m telling a story.

It’s that simple.