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.
The elderly woman who lived here before me left behind a terracotta pot of crocus she’d planted. At the time, the plant just looked to me like thick grass, for I was very new to gardening then with much to learn (an ongoing process!)
I’m still trying to get through it and have lost being able to taste and smell, (devastating to someone who loves cooking!) but I’m hoping these will return in time – fingers crossed. And I also still hold hope for this fresh, new year.
It’s usually feast or famine in my garden and while I’ve always wanted to be one of those people who have lots of magnificent flowers growing, it seems they never bloom much and then move on to the next life. 
Coming back from the shop recently, I passed a house that had a bucket of free geranium cuttings out front and stopped to take a couple.
Amazing how a much longed-for pour of rain a few days ago has brought about a basil forest in the vegie patch! So, it’s all things basil for a bit with this beautiful harvest… homemade pizza with basil, tomato and mozzarella, basil pesto with orecchiette and crispy prosciutto, as well as bruschetta with basil, tomato and balsamic. (Any other ideas for basil are most welcome. As is a little more rain all round for everyone in Australia!) And I have to say that Costa 
Our two birdbaths and various ground dishes about the place are being visited and almost emptied every day by both day and night visitors to the garden. 😊🐦🐝🐞🐾
Zoë Boccabella 