Sometimes Australia can feel very far from Italy and other parts of Europe where my family are from, yet at times, the distance and years can fall away in a moment. This morning, I noticed dandelions have sprung up in the backyard and decided to pick some of their fresh, young leaves for lunch. (Nothing fancy, just to add to a sandwich among other salad greens.) Unexpectedly, this simple foraging in the backyard with sunshine on my back also brought a warmth of connection. Not only to the garden but to great-granny Maddalena and the hillsides near Fossa in Abruzzo where she’d forage for greens and carry them home in her apron. (How different her life must’ve felt when she emigrated to the other side of the world aged forty-eight!)
In Australia, she planted an extensive vegie patch in her garden amid those other plants that spring up around a backyard. Like dandelions and nodding tops, the cobblers pegs that got stuck in my ankle socks when I’d run past them as a child, or the prickles when I was barefoot. All of them edible (even the leaves of the prickly one, but not the prickles). An old-fashioned garden, where the lawn wasn’t always mown to within an inch of its life.
I know great-granny Maddalena had a lot more manual daily work to do, especially in the first half of the 20th century in Italy. That her life was often challenging and sacrifices had to be made, yet my strongest memories of her are of her smiling. Her face all creased beautifully as she did. (That said, I also remember she and Nonno Anni yelling at each other in rapid Italian and I’d not be sure if they were fighting or just talking!)
As the world ‘speeds up’ and seems to get more complicated, I’m finding more often I’m seeking out those simpler things – little parts in a day that can bring a few moments of warmth or connection, a kind memory, a smile. Even if it’s just some sun on my face when I’ve been at my desk for hours and not realised just how lovely and sunshiny it is outside that day. Or the lively taste of some dandelion greens in amongst an everyday sandwich. 💛🌿
* Photos – (apologies for the older ones not being as clear!) – Great-granny in her garden/ the dandelion leaves I foraged today/ a marmalade hoverfly (great pollinators and garden friends!) on a dandelion in my backyard/ a photo I took many years ago while wandering the hillsides near Fossa, Abruzzo.
Zoë Boccabella 
Your memories reminded me of my father (from Abruzzo) gathering mustard greens in the orchard in the spring. My mother would saute them in garlic and butter. So good!
LikeLike
I love that this brought back your own memories and what a lovely one too. Thank you for sharing it with me. xx (That sounds absolutely delicious by the way!)💛😊
LikeLike
Dear Zoë, Thank you for this beautiful reminiscence your grandmother. Your memory of her always smiling, despite whatever real life hardships she might’ve been facing, Immediately made me think of my own maternal grandmother. My Grandma Thulin (first name, Laura) was quiet, practical, and focused on making sure that her home and family were taken care of…but my strongest memory of her is her shy little smile, and the way her nose wiggled like a little rabbit’s when she laughed. I adored her. Bless you for bringing such a lovely image of her to my mind tonight! With affection, Debbie Rehn, Portland, Oregon, USA
LikeLike
Hello Debbie, it’s so wonderful to learn that this brought back your own memories of your grandmother. Truly, that is just the loveliest for me to hear! Thank you for sharing them with me, especially your Grandma Thulin’s nose wiggling like a little rabbit’s when she laughed. I love this so much!! I believe there is something truly special about the women of these generations and how they lived their lives with such grace, quiet fortitude and love. Grandmothers are so very special too. It’s a pleasure knowing that this brought back such memories for you. Thank you! Zoe xx
LikeLike