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childhood
March 2009 
What was the first word, or sentence, you spoke?
Posted on Aug 2nd, 2008
by 
willowinthewind
willowinthewind
This is in Response to the Questions and Reflections for August 02, 2008:
Salami. Isn't that ridiculous; but that's the story they've tagged to my wrist.
You see before we moved to the wilderness we had neighbors from the Old Country, Italians who made their own raviolis and hung smoked meats and whose kitchen was the most wondrous palace of light and love and delight that I ever could have imagined!
My home was stiff formal polite bequietdon'tmakenoise kind of place. So it was to paradise, the escape as fast as I could run just down the road to the Brasseco's. I was greeted with open arms, warm hugs, smiling faces, bright noisy laughter! To this day I wish my skin were olive, my hair black and lustrous (Wonder Woman comes to mind but I suppose the island she left behind wasn't Italy....?), my heart as wide and open as the Mediterranean. To this day I love the feel of Italian words in my mouth; I don't speak the language but I can sing the language.
And salami? From today's eyes, neither politically acceptable nor healthy. My vegetarian friends will drop me avoid me shun me if they find this blog. Still....I found an "organic" (true!) package of salami to share with my old Swedish mother, who is not permitted to have too much salt. We sat in the soft evening breeze, eating together, the delights of secret shared illicit treasure. Pace e bene!
You see before we moved to the wilderness we had neighbors from the Old Country, Italians who made their own raviolis and hung smoked meats and whose kitchen was the most wondrous palace of light and love and delight that I ever could have imagined!
My home was stiff formal polite bequietdon'tmakenoise kind of place. So it was to paradise, the escape as fast as I could run just down the road to the Brasseco's. I was greeted with open arms, warm hugs, smiling faces, bright noisy laughter! To this day I wish my skin were olive, my hair black and lustrous (Wonder Woman comes to mind but I suppose the island she left behind wasn't Italy....?), my heart as wide and open as the Mediterranean. To this day I love the feel of Italian words in my mouth; I don't speak the language but I can sing the language.
And salami? From today's eyes, neither politically acceptable nor healthy. My vegetarian friends will drop me avoid me shun me if they find this blog. Still....I found an "organic" (true!) package of salami to share with my old Swedish mother, who is not permitted to have too much salt. We sat in the soft evening breeze, eating together, the delights of secret shared illicit treasure. Pace e bene!
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I love the way you tell your stories! I simply love your energy! Keep it coming, keep it coming. I’m energised!
:D sherri
Molto Bene!
that's so sweet! what a delightfully funny first word!
yummmm.. your whole story here is yummmm. thank you. -d
What a great story you are telling here. I don´t know my first word, don´t remember being told, but I follow you in your fascination for Italia and their wonderful language. I´ve always felt that it was the most wonderful language in the world. Actually, my dear friend Poul and me have decided to attend a course in italian this autumn. I really look forward to that.
“Jeannie, dammi le salamii per favore ! Ho fame” ( Jeannie, hand me the salami please! I´m hungry )
You give such joy! All of you. I'm on the way to the roof of this house to sing to the world about it – gioia!
Life is for the experience! It's amazing how the little things add up to be such cherished pleasures.
Great post.
Hal
great story! thanks for sharing.. I'm with ya on the italian thang, their sentiment seems to be very warm & openhearted indeed.. although imho your scandinavian complexion is absolutely fab as it is ;-) love & joy tara
You know how stories get twisted up…
Perhaps you really said, “Salaam”…which takes on an utterly different meaning, as it's the word for “Peace” and also one of the Names of God.
Ever thought about that? Huh? Huh? Huh? :-D