I strike the Maremma

A funny thing happened on the way to Genoa.  I got off the plane at Pisa and went south.  I got off at Grosseto and who was there, waiting for me in very red pants?  None but Gianpaolo Paglia of Poggio Argentiera.  At long last I was to meet his witty and, of course, very charming English wife, Justine Keeling!  She was in the car with the youngest of their three small children, all of whom are improbably gorgeous (like baby models).  The kids all have English names, e.g., said baby of 12 months, Alexawndah.  (Alexander to us Yanks.)  The older children, Oliver and Emily, are equally adorable.  The only names that might be more English are Nigel, Algernon and Daphne.

I have a lot more to relate to you, but after a lovely ride through the Maremman uplands, almost to the borders of Montecucco and Montalcino, then a tasting back at the family farm, I was forced to learn a new Italian word.  Or relearn, actually, since I once knew it.  Micrania.  Migraine.  So much for my first big day in the Maremma.  I'm finally back among the conscious but not by much, so I'll keep this dispatch short. 

I do have a funny story. 

Gianpaolo and Justine's two older kids are completely bilingual. (Alexander is 12 months old, not many words from him yet.)  Last fall, when Oliver first went to primary school, Justine asked him what he'd learnt.  He replied, "English."

"Really?  Tell me what you learnt in English."

"Well," Oliver said, "we learned stenda uppa.  That means stand up."

"Oh really?"

"Yes.  Then we learned sitta downa.  That means sit down."

"Oh really?"

"Then we learned gooda maurninga.  That means hello."

"Oh REALLY?"  Seething, envisioning the erosion of his perfect command of Her Majesty's English. "Well that's very nice.  Well done, Oliver.  Mummy's having  nice cup of tea now, all right?"

Now Justine realizes that Oilver is learning three languages.  Italian and English at home.  Inglisha at school.  According to the kids, Inglisha is what Gianpaolo speaks.  ("Daddy sounds funny when he speaks English.")

From the mouths of babes.

Something that's actually about wine tomorrow, if you're lucky.  Ciao ciao ciao ciao ciao.

Comments

[tirebouchon]

Caro Terry,
qui viene fuori la tua vena di scrittore e di poetico osservatore del mondo che ci circonda, mi ricorda il tuo periodo in cui insegnavi letteratura nel South Bronx e mi inviavi le poesie dei tuoi allievi, ah tanto tempo fa...

[th]

E mi auguro che sia nel passato, mi raccomando.