Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Dublin Ireland Cruising Gay
family, children' s ... Vico ...
I was born in 1947, I can not remember the war but I remember the post-war Italy 's that you see today in black and white movies from the 50s. From my
know that I was born in the house of his grandfather, the Corso Vittorio Emanuele. I do not remember, but that was where my paternal grandparents, with their twelve children had lived for a living. On the same floor c 'Barendson were cousins, cousins \u200b\u200btwice because my grandmother Eva Barendson had married my grandfather Tito Gambardella and his sister had married her brother.
was a large house, about ten rooms, when my father, on his return from captivity, she met and married her mother, she attended as a family friend of my Aunt Elia, Dad's sister, who was and remained always miss.
The other children were married and lived elsewhere, it seemed natural that the new pair would remain with his grandfather, my mother was very close to his father, happy to live in a family where the children visiting filled the house, she always used to birth to three: she, her mother and sister.
C 'were, friends and cousins \u200b\u200bwho came and went, long table, always a 'party atmosphere.
When I was born, I had the name of the grandmother that there 'was more, there was great happiness, even if there' were already other grandchildren, I was the first to be called Eve.
When I had half a year his grandfather died and balances jumped his grandfather had been a great lawyer, but raising the twelve children of which many, including males, with Peter Pan syndrome, it was not easy, in such abundance remained Home. Mom begged in vain to be able to redeem by paying a little at a time allowances to others ... no way, some wives of brothers wanted to achieve now, the house was sold.
We went to rent, or better, in the sublease at 440 Corso Vittorio Emanuele: was an old building with stairs, porches, terraces, and other scales. Lived for four years with a family consisting of father and three elder children, a boy and two girls. The house was divided in two, I believe in the common kitchen and bathroom, was the war, they needed to round off, we at home.
My earliest memories go back to those years: 's summer did not go on vacation, we went with the Cumana to bathe in Torregaveta, there are two smells that I will always remember this time: tortilla macaroni, the classic dish beach of Naples and the smell mixed train, sweat and ice cream that even now, if you walk Montesanto and pass close to Cumana you back in those days.
My parents were great people, with a hint of bohemian: continued to receive friends as if we lived in a castle, I felt embarrassed because I had no previous memories in that house ... my sister was born in 52. In 53 my father managed to buy a home 's Ina homes, the popular ones being constructed and is redeemed, in Fuorigrotta. Today is a district of Naples as another: so for us it was the 'exile. Already
name: Mergellina to cross a tunnel, there was one of the trams and buses, especially the tunnels made you feel "out" ... then we were in Naples '53 c 'was a church, a square, Viale Augusto, Gypsies and country. At the end of Viale Augusto is now a street full of shops and buildings, There was a square with the Mostra d 'Oltremare, colossal complex with stand, a huge fountain with jets, waterfalls and stepped down, a theater, all built by Mussolini before the war to host an exhibition of our colonies , the colonies' s empire.
At the outbreak of war the poor Ethiopians who were with costumes, palm trees and stuff to show the greatness of 'Italy in the world, stayed there. C 'era, between the end of Viale Augusto and Piazzale Tecchio, a dilapidated building which, wretched living this group of people (just imagine a non-appropriation of today). I do not know how they lived and, I do not know if, how and when they were repatriated, but when we went to Fuorigrotta were there. In front of our house was a house: the Sferisterio, where he played the "pelota", a sport in which people bet. My parents, sometimes accompanied friends to watch the game and perhaps bet.
's environment of this large building with four scales was mixed: c' were gentlemen like us that the war had forced to live in public housing and there was also modest people, workers, clerks.
One evening, Mom was waiting for my father fell: a lady upstairs leaned over and said "Sign your husband comes late, but why does looking at?" He wanted to say but the guard said, according to her, the word Italianate. Dad, on his return he found Mother in tears who asked who among the people 'had brought ...
We made friends with a family on the first floor, the Whites nice people with whom we were bound for years after, with Simiani the fourth floor, her father was minister during the fascist period, had four children and my mother was convinced that she drank and even that is bad luck ... The
Rizzotti, the ones upstairs, four children and father firefighter, were our salvation, because they were the 'only family to have the condominium of television: the' year after he began "Double or nothing?" and all went to their own ... all; put the chairs in a row and watch the broadcast.
In the afternoon there was the TV of the boys, then there 'was more nothing, but the lady said, "Children turn off the valves that wear out."
I, my sister before she was born, I was very spoiled, I suffered from jealousy was spiteful, pedantic, I was often put in spanking and punishment and I incattiviva more. I was afraid of the end of the world, I was afraid that my, if they went out at night, never to return. I probably passed on anxiety Mom, if Dad was late, was waiting in the street, they still bore below the anxieties of war sirens, racing at night in the shelters.
The house was always full of friends, had my 's habit, and preserved forever, younger couples to attend some of which were friends and some mentors, and they had the funny nature, were designed to surprise, to turn everything into laughter when they wanted to be strict, as the 'education of the time required, they felt little credibility and I was disoriented. There were not cured but according to our friends: We grew up in those years with them and their friends, Saturday we went to Aunt Maria Pia, the eldest sister of father and c 'was living: aunts, uncles, friends of the moment , captured speeches, political (read the 'Espresso that was a huge sheet).
I was timid at ease with adults and with my peers, when they carried me to parties with children, I refused to play and hang on the skirts of my mother. A carnival, at parties I am always dressed delivered by male: knight, prince, because I was higher than my age, one year I dress up as farm girl and you see in the pictures, this little girl with a forced smile, almost a grimace tears. At school, no, I was relaxed and happy at school, I was happy friendship, I felt safe ...
's great love of my life in those years and always was Aunt Victoria's sister, my mother was a teacher too, first for me, then many years later for my children was the playmate favorite, the perfect story telling, the 'best friend, the delight in short ...
When at 42, he decided, including the ire of his grandmother, to marry a younger colleague of eleven, they told me gently and I screamed, I cried because I was saying, she promised that she would never marry.
I loved my mother very much, loved, with my father I have had a rocky relationship but with great confidence, but what for me was Aunt Victoria, it was not anyone else: travel, theater, holidays: until he was 92 years, even after I had come to Milan still felt every day, then the last few years, a stroke, were spent in a nursing home. Where 's the summer, coming from London I went to visit her, she looked at me kidnapped, caressing my face, for his I was a full ... affection reciprocated.
D 'summer, after the baths Torregaveta, we took a cab to Coroglio. we went in the morning, he returned in the evening, then, in '56, improved economic conditions, our friends were in Vico Equense, Sorrento coast of the country, took a rented house for two and a half months and began the My love for a place that still today is home for me ...
The vacations of the past, when some began again and continued for other, were completely different from what today are called holiday, we were poor but paradoxically richer ... houses for rent did not cost much, in fact over time it began to rent the house for throughout the year, and then there were those long, lovely summer ... the pace of life was slower ...
After school, in late June, early July we moved, we were a large number of families, friends or acquaintances of their parents, we kids in a group. There also lingered through September, sometimes until 4 October: every year new students were added, c 'was someone who was for a time, then go elsewhere, but most of us still faithful ... In September, with first cold, remove the wooden cabins, some left it for us loyalists, the lengths of the groups met and became friends, except for the following year back in July each with its own group.
Peppino di Capri sang 'Voice' night, "NicoFidenco" Tied to a grain of sand, "we met in homes with the turntable, there was dancing, the famous" dancing ", where they were born and died summer love, you had great freedom, that I really, I have always enjoyed, because my parents in their design a bit 'the funny, but I must admit, intelligent and forward-looking, aged fifteen, sixteen years and gave us all the freedom that, perhaps, have the girls today and gave us a beautiful youth.
In '60 we left the house Fuorigrotta, which was rented and then sold and returned to the Corso Vittorio Emanuele. The grandmother of Milan, mother had continued to live there and we rented a house in front of her. she came to live with us and after two years, even Aunt Victoria and her husband moved into the building. L 'Fuorigrotta nightmare was over, I began to September, the fourth high school and fill the pages of my diary, the house was beautiful, bright faces the panorama of Naples, the postcard, the summer home where my father died, in where my children were born, I left in '87 to come to Milan.
In that house my character improved, the years were good ones 60, the big hair, the economic miracle, the 'car, our loyal Rosa, the maid who had seen me born and died in our house. Around a world that promised welfare and love, Pope John, President Kennedy in the U.S., the summer holidays, winter and some ballet studio.
There was the tragedy in Dallas in '63 and the death of the Pope's good, but it was an 'era that seemed to promise everything, so we got to '65, the year of my enrollment at the baccalaureate and' University.
2. 
I was born in 1947, I can not remember the war but I remember the post-war Italy 's that you see today in black and white movies from the 50s. From my
know that I was born in the house of his grandfather, the Corso Vittorio Emanuele. I do not remember, but that was where my paternal grandparents, with their twelve children had lived for a living. On the same floor c 'Barendson were cousins, cousins \u200b\u200btwice because my grandmother Eva Barendson had married my grandfather Tito Gambardella and his sister had married her brother.
was a large house, about ten rooms, when my father, on his return from captivity, she met and married her mother, she attended as a family friend of my Aunt Elia, Dad's sister, who was and remained always miss.
The other children were married and lived elsewhere, it seemed natural that the new pair would remain with his grandfather, my mother was very close to his father, happy to live in a family where the children visiting filled the house, she always used to birth to three: she, her mother and sister.
C 'were, friends and cousins \u200b\u200bwho came and went, long table, always a 'party atmosphere.
When I was born, I had the name of the grandmother that there 'was more, there was great happiness, even if there' were already other grandchildren, I was the first to be called Eve.
When I had half a year his grandfather died and balances jumped his grandfather had been a great lawyer, but raising the twelve children of which many, including males, with Peter Pan syndrome, it was not easy, in such abundance remained Home. Mom begged in vain to be able to redeem by paying a little at a time allowances to others ... no way, some wives of brothers wanted to achieve now, the house was sold.
We went to rent, or better, in the sublease at 440 Corso Vittorio Emanuele: was an old building with stairs, porches, terraces, and other scales. Lived for four years with a family consisting of father and three elder children, a boy and two girls. The house was divided in two, I believe in the common kitchen and bathroom, was the war, they needed to round off, we at home.
My earliest memories go back to those years: 's summer did not go on vacation, we went with the Cumana to bathe in Torregaveta, there are two smells that I will always remember this time: tortilla macaroni, the classic dish beach of Naples and the smell mixed train, sweat and ice cream that even now, if you walk Montesanto and pass close to Cumana you back in those days.
My parents were great people, with a hint of bohemian: continued to receive friends as if we lived in a castle, I felt embarrassed because I had no previous memories in that house ... my sister was born in 52. In 53 my father managed to buy a home 's Ina homes, the popular ones being constructed and is redeemed, in Fuorigrotta. Today is a district of Naples as another: so for us it was the 'exile. Already
name: Mergellina to cross a tunnel, there was one of the trams and buses, especially the tunnels made you feel "out" ... then we were in Naples '53 c 'was a church, a square, Viale Augusto, Gypsies and country. At the end of Viale Augusto is now a street full of shops and buildings, There was a square with the Mostra d 'Oltremare, colossal complex with stand, a huge fountain with jets, waterfalls and stepped down, a theater, all built by Mussolini before the war to host an exhibition of our colonies , the colonies' s empire.
At the outbreak of war the poor Ethiopians who were with costumes, palm trees and stuff to show the greatness of 'Italy in the world, stayed there. C 'era, between the end of Viale Augusto and Piazzale Tecchio, a dilapidated building which, wretched living this group of people (just imagine a non-appropriation of today). I do not know how they lived and, I do not know if, how and when they were repatriated, but when we went to Fuorigrotta were there. In front of our house was a house: the Sferisterio, where he played the "pelota", a sport in which people bet. My parents, sometimes accompanied friends to watch the game and perhaps bet.
's environment of this large building with four scales was mixed: c' were gentlemen like us that the war had forced to live in public housing and there was also modest people, workers, clerks.
One evening, Mom was waiting for my father fell: a lady upstairs leaned over and said "Sign your husband comes late, but why does looking at?" He wanted to say but the guard said, according to her, the word Italianate. Dad, on his return he found Mother in tears who asked who among the people 'had brought ...
We made friends with a family on the first floor, the Whites nice people with whom we were bound for years after, with Simiani the fourth floor, her father was minister during the fascist period, had four children and my mother was convinced that she drank and even that is bad luck ... The
Rizzotti, the ones upstairs, four children and father firefighter, were our salvation, because they were the 'only family to have the condominium of television: the' year after he began "Double or nothing?" and all went to their own ... all; put the chairs in a row and watch the broadcast.
In the afternoon there was the TV of the boys, then there 'was more nothing, but the lady said, "Children turn off the valves that wear out."
I, my sister before she was born, I was very spoiled, I suffered from jealousy was spiteful, pedantic, I was often put in spanking and punishment and I incattiviva more. I was afraid of the end of the world, I was afraid that my, if they went out at night, never to return. I probably passed on anxiety Mom, if Dad was late, was waiting in the street, they still bore below the anxieties of war sirens, racing at night in the shelters.
The house was always full of friends, had my 's habit, and preserved forever, younger couples to attend some of which were friends and some mentors, and they had the funny nature, were designed to surprise, to turn everything into laughter when they wanted to be strict, as the 'education of the time required, they felt little credibility and I was disoriented. There were not cured but according to our friends: We grew up in those years with them and their friends, Saturday we went to Aunt Maria Pia, the eldest sister of father and c 'was living: aunts, uncles, friends of the moment , captured speeches, political (read the 'Espresso that was a huge sheet).
I was timid at ease with adults and with my peers, when they carried me to parties with children, I refused to play and hang on the skirts of my mother. A carnival, at parties I am always dressed delivered by male: knight, prince, because I was higher than my age, one year I dress up as farm girl and you see in the pictures, this little girl with a forced smile, almost a grimace tears. At school, no, I was relaxed and happy at school, I was happy friendship, I felt safe ...
's great love of my life in those years and always was Aunt Victoria's sister, my mother was a teacher too, first for me, then many years later for my children was the playmate favorite, the perfect story telling, the 'best friend, the delight in short ...
When at 42, he decided, including the ire of his grandmother, to marry a younger colleague of eleven, they told me gently and I screamed, I cried because I was saying, she promised that she would never marry.
I loved my mother very much, loved, with my father I have had a rocky relationship but with great confidence, but what for me was Aunt Victoria, it was not anyone else: travel, theater, holidays: until he was 92 years, even after I had come to Milan still felt every day, then the last few years, a stroke, were spent in a nursing home. Where 's the summer, coming from London I went to visit her, she looked at me kidnapped, caressing my face, for his I was a full ... affection reciprocated.
D 'summer, after the baths Torregaveta, we took a cab to Coroglio. we went in the morning, he returned in the evening, then, in '56, improved economic conditions, our friends were in Vico Equense, Sorrento coast of the country, took a rented house for two and a half months and began the My love for a place that still today is home for me ...
The vacations of the past, when some began again and continued for other, were completely different from what today are called holiday, we were poor but paradoxically richer ... houses for rent did not cost much, in fact over time it began to rent the house for throughout the year, and then there were those long, lovely summer ... the pace of life was slower ...
After school, in late June, early July we moved, we were a large number of families, friends or acquaintances of their parents, we kids in a group. There also lingered through September, sometimes until 4 October: every year new students were added, c 'was someone who was for a time, then go elsewhere, but most of us still faithful ... In September, with first cold, remove the wooden cabins, some left it for us loyalists, the lengths of the groups met and became friends, except for the following year back in July each with its own group.
Peppino di Capri sang 'Voice' night, "NicoFidenco" Tied to a grain of sand, "we met in homes with the turntable, there was dancing, the famous" dancing ", where they were born and died summer love, you had great freedom, that I really, I have always enjoyed, because my parents in their design a bit 'the funny, but I must admit, intelligent and forward-looking, aged fifteen, sixteen years and gave us all the freedom that, perhaps, have the girls today and gave us a beautiful youth.
In '60 we left the house Fuorigrotta, which was rented and then sold and returned to the Corso Vittorio Emanuele. The grandmother of Milan, mother had continued to live there and we rented a house in front of her. she came to live with us and after two years, even Aunt Victoria and her husband moved into the building. L 'Fuorigrotta nightmare was over, I began to September, the fourth high school and fill the pages of my diary, the house was beautiful, bright faces the panorama of Naples, the postcard, the summer home where my father died, in where my children were born, I left in '87 to come to Milan.
In that house my character improved, the years were good ones 60, the big hair, the economic miracle, the 'car, our loyal Rosa, the maid who had seen me born and died in our house. Around a world that promised welfare and love, Pope John, President Kennedy in the U.S., the summer holidays, winter and some ballet studio.
There was the tragedy in Dallas in '63 and the death of the Pope's good, but it was an 'era that seemed to promise everything, so we got to '65, the year of my enrollment at the baccalaureate and' University.
2.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Supplies Need For Models
Cisternino - Regional Race - Podium Again!
course, it stands out more than any other Sunday, June 13 in Cisternino Brindisi was the heat! Scary ... a nerve. But probably 35 degrees of sunny June afternoon they gave me a load more. 7 ª
test Corripuglia 2010. 800 participants. 45 people of my class. Path of 9.1 km completely hills. Without a moment's breath. A continuous seamless top of the hill, can not be recovered after just having recovered his breath. But I got away with an excellent performance: 40 minutes flat and no less second category. An unexpected result in view of the worrying conditions atmosferiche.Al out at least the lack of a sponge during the journey (one refreshment provided) the organization was impeccable. Check regularly and in full path sometimes crowded with cheering from the stadium. 
course, it stands out more than any other Sunday, June 13 in Cisternino Brindisi was the heat! Scary ... a nerve. But probably 35 degrees of sunny June afternoon they gave me a load more. 7 ª
test Corripuglia 2010. 800 participants. 45 people of my class. Path of 9.1 km completely hills. Without a moment's breath. A continuous seamless top of the hill, can not be recovered after just having recovered his breath. But I got away with an excellent performance: 40 minutes flat and no less second category. An unexpected result in view of the worrying conditions atmosferiche.Al out at least the lack of a sponge during the journey (one refreshment provided) the organization was impeccable. Check regularly and in full path sometimes crowded with cheering from the stadium. decide to set the starting ranks among the top ranks. The race is long and not lose even a few seconds is an eternity in the media at the start of the final time. Bagarre initial the conquest of the lane more advantageous. After two kilometers I feel out of breath already. Natural! Travel to an average of 4 minutes and 15! Slow down, I concentrate on my usual pace and recovery right away. I have no difficulties in hot weather. I compare myself with my friends team that usually precede me. Continuously over the pass on a trail surrounded by the Mediterranean. I rest on the 5th km moisturizing thoroughly. Just as well: it was the only path. Easily overcome the last climb to the finishing straight. The warm cheer of my family members also appointed me to do a sprint in the final few meters from traguardo.Tempo: 40 minutes flat at a rate of 4 minutes and 24 seconds per km.
For a path so difficult and due to harsh weather conditions ... excellent performance!
Here I am on the Park awards (second from left) ...
For a path so difficult and due to harsh weather conditions ... excellent performance!
Here I am on the Park awards (second from left) ...
Monday, June 7, 2010
What Happen Aboutfakku!
Marathon of olive trees: Third Category
Back to Ostuni to redeem the forced absence from Barincorsa (see below) and the mockery of Barletta. There is no doubt ... I got a real revenge.
Race start: 17:30 afternoon (I do not run from a life in the afternoon). Temperature: 30 degrees (until the day before yesterday seemed to autumn). Perfect reception and you will say, thanks to the impeccable organization. A path I'd say one in Italy. Fascinating for the crossing of beautiful country roads (dirt and sometimes scented twigs) shaded by lustful old olive trees. Refreshment and sponge stations will have to greatly relieved the sudden warm down over the sea in Puglia.
then I start with the idea of \u200b\u200bnot losing sight of the clock and 35 pacemakers. For the first two miles the pace is sent and lope round. Under four minutes and thirty km. The balloons hour and thirty-five are behind me. I decide to wait and I do reach the fourth km. Too fast pace because of the variables in my favor.
Master in having to deal with the race experience, I keep at a distance control from the balloons that now, at 10 °, are 100 yards ahead. Also because so far the path has been a slight and steady climb. On lap
mark of a stretch of dirt road invites me to a wedding. After 1 km on the country road began to assume a slow down and inviting. I was able to retrieve the effort of pushing the last 7 km. Under 4:30 pace, not at all stifled by the heat, I reach the service road that leads straight to the finish. The pacemaker 35 and the time always in full view before me. Sometimes it seems to me to join them. With the rhythm of the perfect long-distance rider, despite the sun setting blind us, cover the last mile to 4:30. Through the busy town along the harbor to almost touch the sea. Back in the final stretch, I see the sign of 21, but definitely not the goal appears to be at 97 meters, but at least 200 meters. Friends confirmed with Garmin In fact, the difference in distance.
End time: 1:36. But what counts more is the third class and deserved podium.
These steps every 5 km: 22:31
23:01 23:12 22:42
This post is unfortunately not documented by pictures of the race. I have not found any on fan sites. 
Back to Ostuni to redeem the forced absence from Barincorsa (see below) and the mockery of Barletta. There is no doubt ... I got a real revenge.
Race start: 17:30 afternoon (I do not run from a life in the afternoon). Temperature: 30 degrees (until the day before yesterday seemed to autumn). Perfect reception and you will say, thanks to the impeccable organization. A path I'd say one in Italy. Fascinating for the crossing of beautiful country roads (dirt and sometimes scented twigs) shaded by lustful old olive trees. Refreshment and sponge stations will have to greatly relieved the sudden warm down over the sea in Puglia.
then I start with the idea of \u200b\u200bnot losing sight of the clock and 35 pacemakers. For the first two miles the pace is sent and lope round. Under four minutes and thirty km. The balloons hour and thirty-five are behind me. I decide to wait and I do reach the fourth km. Too fast pace because of the variables in my favor.
Master in having to deal with the race experience, I keep at a distance control from the balloons that now, at 10 °, are 100 yards ahead. Also because so far the path has been a slight and steady climb. On lap
mark of a stretch of dirt road invites me to a wedding. After 1 km on the country road began to assume a slow down and inviting. I was able to retrieve the effort of pushing the last 7 km. Under 4:30 pace, not at all stifled by the heat, I reach the service road that leads straight to the finish. The pacemaker 35 and the time always in full view before me. Sometimes it seems to me to join them. With the rhythm of the perfect long-distance rider, despite the sun setting blind us, cover the last mile to 4:30. Through the busy town along the harbor to almost touch the sea. Back in the final stretch, I see the sign of 21, but definitely not the goal appears to be at 97 meters, but at least 200 meters. Friends confirmed with Garmin In fact, the difference in distance.
End time: 1:36. But what counts more is the third class and deserved podium.
These steps every 5 km: 22:31
23:01 23:12 22:42
This post is unfortunately not documented by pictures of the race. I have not found any on fan sites.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Cervix Extremely High Day Before Period Is Due
middle school and high school
Until '6 o - '61, after the 'examination of elementary school, if you wanted to go to school, the one with the Latin, it was necessary to support the' entrance exam. It was hard, it was necessary to bring a program that included all subjects studied in primary school, also a number of poems and prose from memory and some biographies of famosi.C 'was the first day of writings which took place in a theme, another dedicated to mathematics and then oral . Everything was happening at the middle school where we would be attending and was examined by the professors of the medium. If not passed, we went to the school of professional training to work, a kind of series B. I prepared my grandmother, one from Milan, the mother of my mother, a teacher herself, who, having a surname different from mine, he could sign the program to be presented. I had enrolled in a public school, but that year, because of 'high number of pupils and the small number schools, began (and would last almost 20 years) the tremendous double shifts: one went to school for three days of morning and three in the afternoon and as many classes were the opposite and therefore each school could hold twice as many students. Councils in the family, his grandmother promised financial help, I sustained the 'entrance exam, brilliantly, at the public school and then was enrolled in a prestigious private school run by nuns French mother, aunts and grandmothers of both arms the family had attended small
I loved those years, but I never forgave my mother that his inconsistency: on a normal school, where c 'and donkeys were the good, the rich and poor, the doctor's son and partner who called me 'four' uocchie "I was in a rarefied environment, frequented by noblemen. We were a family of high but normal economic conditions, with a maid, a house of the bourgeois type, five rooms and accessories and I suddenly found myself to share the bench with the sons of princes, counts, large industrial a caste where it seemed that everyone knew all along.
not felt any discomfort, then, my academic performance was very high and gentle companions to me, the chances of being out of school were few: in those days, 's winter home and was studying . Was in summer, during the long holidays by the sea that began in June and ended in September, who enjoyed more freedom, we went out with friends in Vico's "party", all children that our parents knew exactly why children of their friends.
In reality, the sense of having something irretrievably lost, the noise, the first strikes, the casualty, a mirror of life which is the public school, with all its faults and its shortcomings, the 'I felt later, when I taught myself. I think I enjoyed it all the way and loved you so much for this. because I had missed in the years of 'adolescence. A
"Mary Help of Christians", that was the school, the walls were painted a pale green, chosen because he was resting his sight in the morning before class, we put her veil and went to the chapel for prayer; we entered divided into two rows and we get up there and knelt at the sound of a small wooden clam that the nun was snapped, then the school hours. Once a week, the Mass, after which we went to the dining room for breakfast with milk and chocolate brioche. Every morning in class was given a notebook where, who wanted, marking the favorite snack for 'recreational time (usually bread and ham or salami and bread, a chocolate bar); during the 'interval were janitors distributed by giving each class its trash.
We had more excellent teachers, the nuns were modern and available for interview, and despite what that wonderful sense of chaos that the school gives you, I missed. We were still paying, and on that, we needed special care.
Every fortnight was given to those who had a pin high marks: "decoration", blue if you had not carried out in 10, red if it had. At the end of the quarter who had obtained all the decorations had a red ribbon with a red cross that was called "Cross of excellence" and was paraded on the uniform for the entire quarter next. My grades were high, as a discipline leaves much to be desired: I think maybe it had, in eight years, one and all. We wore a uniform that was sewn in one of the best tailors in Naples: Piégon front skirt with blue, white blouse, a sweater around his neck blue 's winter, spring blue cardigan, blue shoes, all the same model and a tee made from blue apron, and I think in high school do not wear them anymore. At the end of the quarter we met in the chapel of the 'old building and in the presence of female teachers, sisters, mother and mother superior principal, were called one by one, the first class in every subject. In middle school, except in the gym, I was first in everything at school, fortunately, went back to normal. Not that I studied a lot, in fact, I was easy, I had memory in a short time doing homework, and if I could help. Throughout high school I always played during the task of Italian class in three areas: mine and two of my companions behind, waiting patiently for their turn came.
I was sympathetic to the other, not because I was good, but in my imagination endless' hold harmless pranks and practical jokes of all kinds. As a child I was a little timid and full of fear, 'he took away all my teenage years. C
end of the year 'was the feast, the May 24, the day of Mary Help of Christians. It began with mass at the end of which is sang 'anthem "A toi mon coeur, Marie Auxiliatrice", then prepare for the "festival" organized a class all his stall, raffles, peaches Benefit tickets were purchased by parents and relatives lenient and generous, the proceeds going to the poor. A girl, Anna M, great family, beautiful and sweet that it is now very old and sick, played the guitar always sang "old Lisbon, a year he sang:" Do not be ashamed ", the sisters showed torn ' bold text.
begin the first strikes, the students of the nearby high school "Mercalli, one year attempted an assault on school girls to convince us to take off: the sisters, from the walls above them whaling.
When, years ago, my mother had attended the same school, the nuns were all French, had remained in the 60's a few: Mère Marie Agathe, very old and a redhead, he called all of us "mon petit" , Mère Marie Josephine who was a teacher of singing and had his own method for deciding whether or not you were in tune, all the other Italian. Even among the nuns c 'was the list: those who were taught mothers, those involved in service manuals were nuns. Few
years after my maturity, the school closed for lack of vocations: the last three mothers were living together, one of them, while remaining a nun, took its name from secular and continued to teach mathematics and physics in state schools.
When he was young he taught us, we already saw the adult: we called "Nun of Monza" because we questioned curiously insistent about our first love ... who knows!
We also lay teachers, including some very respectable, then grew to the public school: the gymnasium had a teacher of letters which said "It 's an old maid" was 25 years old ...
I sometimes went to study to become companions princely houses, servants in livery, an unknown world that I never embarrassed, but do not ever tried to share, as did others of my level trying to join. By the end of high school I decided to return to the normal world that I used and I broke, just any relationship. In school we were the fourth
32, arrived in the third school in 18. We, being the only third, the third was associated with the nearby high school, "Umberto", the state high school in Naples well. Many of my friends had girlfriends with kids who would take the 'exam with us, some were married and the wedding still going on.
I was one of the best hunting and began to hoard the good to study together: I studied with Grace L.; his mother was a princess, his father Earl, when studying at home was a pleasure for me that the waiter served us breakfast in bed, the more complicated was at lunch when the waiter came to the side and I had to serve the dish. When she was coming to my house, I realized that there 'was compared, but it did not bother me that much more, our economy was a difference rather than birth, my family being one of the most famous in Naples I then had no uncertainty, and I think that I had never in life felt inferior to other, different but never less. A few years ago I talked to a classmate that she lives in Milan, also her large family with those names that never end and I remember he asked me, as a girl, he said he envied me because there seems to be afraid of anything, maybe it was just the security in me, in my capacity , the 'attach importance to things that really matter. That ended, perhaps as a reaction, I was to be, although cordial, detached and as proud them.
When we studied the maturity, that long ago, with four all written and oral materials, "you did the night", was almost a rite of initiation into the study night, a tangible sign of 'maturity exam.
My father, God bless him, We obtain the cigarettes smoked in the package than the Mercedes flat ten. My father was a maverick, he gave us freedom in years in which no girl was free ... in Naples, then.
For the year-end school party nigth club booked a sophisticated, inviting teachers (those lay), who had a boyfriend, took it. I know that in that same room they celebrated twenty years and thirty years: I have never gone. They were people who belonged, attended the same parties, they married each other, they were members of the Club 'Union, whose rooms were accessed directly from the stages of S. Charles, without going into the street ... I just did not feel that world.
In the early years of university, when the dispute erupted, the more angry they were, you always find a flyer in the front row at meetings, even that they lived as a game, never give up their caste.
I saw some of them, I felt Grace recently: from young people has been harsh judgments, had good memories of me, the better, maybe my them.
maturity came and went, one of the companions was married in the fall, we disperse and began the fun of the Roaring Twenties and 'University. 
Until '6 o - '61, after the 'examination of elementary school, if you wanted to go to school, the one with the Latin, it was necessary to support the' entrance exam. It was hard, it was necessary to bring a program that included all subjects studied in primary school, also a number of poems and prose from memory and some biographies of famosi.C 'was the first day of writings which took place in a theme, another dedicated to mathematics and then oral . Everything was happening at the middle school where we would be attending and was examined by the professors of the medium. If not passed, we went to the school of professional training to work, a kind of series B. I prepared my grandmother, one from Milan, the mother of my mother, a teacher herself, who, having a surname different from mine, he could sign the program to be presented. I had enrolled in a public school, but that year, because of 'high number of pupils and the small number schools, began (and would last almost 20 years) the tremendous double shifts: one went to school for three days of morning and three in the afternoon and as many classes were the opposite and therefore each school could hold twice as many students. Councils in the family, his grandmother promised financial help, I sustained the 'entrance exam, brilliantly, at the public school and then was enrolled in a prestigious private school run by nuns French mother, aunts and grandmothers of both arms the family had attended small
I loved those years, but I never forgave my mother that his inconsistency: on a normal school, where c 'and donkeys were the good, the rich and poor, the doctor's son and partner who called me 'four' uocchie "I was in a rarefied environment, frequented by noblemen. We were a family of high but normal economic conditions, with a maid, a house of the bourgeois type, five rooms and accessories and I suddenly found myself to share the bench with the sons of princes, counts, large industrial a caste where it seemed that everyone knew all along.
not felt any discomfort, then, my academic performance was very high and gentle companions to me, the chances of being out of school were few: in those days, 's winter home and was studying . Was in summer, during the long holidays by the sea that began in June and ended in September, who enjoyed more freedom, we went out with friends in Vico's "party", all children that our parents knew exactly why children of their friends.
In reality, the sense of having something irretrievably lost, the noise, the first strikes, the casualty, a mirror of life which is the public school, with all its faults and its shortcomings, the 'I felt later, when I taught myself. I think I enjoyed it all the way and loved you so much for this. because I had missed in the years of 'adolescence. A
"Mary Help of Christians", that was the school, the walls were painted a pale green, chosen because he was resting his sight in the morning before class, we put her veil and went to the chapel for prayer; we entered divided into two rows and we get up there and knelt at the sound of a small wooden clam that the nun was snapped, then the school hours. Once a week, the Mass, after which we went to the dining room for breakfast with milk and chocolate brioche. Every morning in class was given a notebook where, who wanted, marking the favorite snack for 'recreational time (usually bread and ham or salami and bread, a chocolate bar); during the 'interval were janitors distributed by giving each class its trash.
We had more excellent teachers, the nuns were modern and available for interview, and despite what that wonderful sense of chaos that the school gives you, I missed. We were still paying, and on that, we needed special care.
Every fortnight was given to those who had a pin high marks: "decoration", blue if you had not carried out in 10, red if it had. At the end of the quarter who had obtained all the decorations had a red ribbon with a red cross that was called "Cross of excellence" and was paraded on the uniform for the entire quarter next. My grades were high, as a discipline leaves much to be desired: I think maybe it had, in eight years, one and all. We wore a uniform that was sewn in one of the best tailors in Naples: Piégon front skirt with blue, white blouse, a sweater around his neck blue 's winter, spring blue cardigan, blue shoes, all the same model and a tee made from blue apron, and I think in high school do not wear them anymore. At the end of the quarter we met in the chapel of the 'old building and in the presence of female teachers, sisters, mother and mother superior principal, were called one by one, the first class in every subject. In middle school, except in the gym, I was first in everything at school, fortunately, went back to normal. Not that I studied a lot, in fact, I was easy, I had memory in a short time doing homework, and if I could help. Throughout high school I always played during the task of Italian class in three areas: mine and two of my companions behind, waiting patiently for their turn came.
I was sympathetic to the other, not because I was good, but in my imagination endless' hold harmless pranks and practical jokes of all kinds. As a child I was a little timid and full of fear, 'he took away all my teenage years. C
end of the year 'was the feast, the May 24, the day of Mary Help of Christians. It began with mass at the end of which is sang 'anthem "A toi mon coeur, Marie Auxiliatrice", then prepare for the "festival" organized a class all his stall, raffles, peaches Benefit tickets were purchased by parents and relatives lenient and generous, the proceeds going to the poor. A girl, Anna M, great family, beautiful and sweet that it is now very old and sick, played the guitar always sang "old Lisbon, a year he sang:" Do not be ashamed ", the sisters showed torn ' bold text.
begin the first strikes, the students of the nearby high school "Mercalli, one year attempted an assault on school girls to convince us to take off: the sisters, from the walls above them whaling.
When, years ago, my mother had attended the same school, the nuns were all French, had remained in the 60's a few: Mère Marie Agathe, very old and a redhead, he called all of us "mon petit" , Mère Marie Josephine who was a teacher of singing and had his own method for deciding whether or not you were in tune, all the other Italian. Even among the nuns c 'was the list: those who were taught mothers, those involved in service manuals were nuns. Few
years after my maturity, the school closed for lack of vocations: the last three mothers were living together, one of them, while remaining a nun, took its name from secular and continued to teach mathematics and physics in state schools.
When he was young he taught us, we already saw the adult: we called "Nun of Monza" because we questioned curiously insistent about our first love ... who knows!
We also lay teachers, including some very respectable, then grew to the public school: the gymnasium had a teacher of letters which said "It 's an old maid" was 25 years old ...
I sometimes went to study to become companions princely houses, servants in livery, an unknown world that I never embarrassed, but do not ever tried to share, as did others of my level trying to join. By the end of high school I decided to return to the normal world that I used and I broke, just any relationship. In school we were the fourth
32, arrived in the third school in 18. We, being the only third, the third was associated with the nearby high school, "Umberto", the state high school in Naples well. Many of my friends had girlfriends with kids who would take the 'exam with us, some were married and the wedding still going on.
I was one of the best hunting and began to hoard the good to study together: I studied with Grace L.; his mother was a princess, his father Earl, when studying at home was a pleasure for me that the waiter served us breakfast in bed, the more complicated was at lunch when the waiter came to the side and I had to serve the dish. When she was coming to my house, I realized that there 'was compared, but it did not bother me that much more, our economy was a difference rather than birth, my family being one of the most famous in Naples I then had no uncertainty, and I think that I had never in life felt inferior to other, different but never less. A few years ago I talked to a classmate that she lives in Milan, also her large family with those names that never end and I remember he asked me, as a girl, he said he envied me because there seems to be afraid of anything, maybe it was just the security in me, in my capacity , the 'attach importance to things that really matter. That ended, perhaps as a reaction, I was to be, although cordial, detached and as proud them.
When we studied the maturity, that long ago, with four all written and oral materials, "you did the night", was almost a rite of initiation into the study night, a tangible sign of 'maturity exam.
My father, God bless him, We obtain the cigarettes smoked in the package than the Mercedes flat ten. My father was a maverick, he gave us freedom in years in which no girl was free ... in Naples, then.
For the year-end school party nigth club booked a sophisticated, inviting teachers (those lay), who had a boyfriend, took it. I know that in that same room they celebrated twenty years and thirty years: I have never gone. They were people who belonged, attended the same parties, they married each other, they were members of the Club 'Union, whose rooms were accessed directly from the stages of S. Charles, without going into the street ... I just did not feel that world.
In the early years of university, when the dispute erupted, the more angry they were, you always find a flyer in the front row at meetings, even that they lived as a game, never give up their caste.
I saw some of them, I felt Grace recently: from young people has been harsh judgments, had good memories of me, the better, maybe my them.
maturity came and went, one of the companions was married in the fall, we disperse and began the fun of the Roaring Twenties and 'University.
Trading Pokemon On Kigb
My memories
are so many of my memories and I would fix them, stop, share with others or even to myself ... What is your earliest memory of a wall ... a 'dark room. To give light on the wall someone had painted a tree branch and a flight of swallows ... but the room remained dark .. It was a 'classroom of the elementary school I attended and where my mother taught .. It was called "E. Fusinato Fua", where E was about to Erminia. I think it was the wife of a poet, Mercantini, that of "The gleaner Sapri" but what had she done to deserve that is called a school, I do not know.
We were housed in a dilapidated building, a pious institution, called "Mondragone Institute, located in the 'homonymous square in the center of Naples, where, among intricate alleys, down from CorsoVittorio Emanuele Via Chiaia: two routes among men with a maze of narrow little poor.
The school was unsafe, which means that everything could collapse at any moment to 'another, but it was said with resignation mixed with a sort of indifference that is typical of the Neapolitan people. How to say "What we putimm 'is?" I 've ever heard: When I was a pupil and later, until my mother retired in '73. The' establishment 'Mondragone "housed holy women, the sisters nearly but not quite: between those ce n' was one that prepared me for the First Communion. C 'was also a guest there was a child, a deaf-mute, survived the earthquake of Messina, I, terrified of any type of malformation, I was afraid and ran away when I saw this poor woman who spoke with moans .. The elementary school had with the 'institute a kind of convention, so, after school, once a week, we girls went to a canteen where we were given lessons in sewing ... I hated those hours: point-to-day , stem stitch, cross stitch .... crap that came out of my reluctant fingers!
's building was an overlap of buildings: c' was a close-up, then a second that is illuminated by a corridor which overlooked the dining hall where we sewed, then through a winding stairway all (I think the current rules security), access to third floor where light c 'was my class.
That's my mother, however, was the first floor: she was the TEACHER .. It was many years in that school to be able to choose the 'classroom, I do not know under what criteria: it was not the prettiest, it was in the side of the dilapidated school, but she liked it. My mother gave the "you" to the Director, because they were related, but not called by name, only the Director and you.
My mother cried when he was teaching, she was good, very, its classes were winning so many competitions, the 'Knight also have made for their academic merits, he loved the students and their' loved it, but cried, I too, in later years I would separate the stentorian tone ... but I remember that as soon as you entered the school, felt the voice of my mother.
I did the first grade three, four and five years, the first two, simply for failing to leave me and where I had refused, rolling on the floor, to attend the 'asylum, took me with him and made me sit in a bench in four years ... ... read and write at five, always dragging me, forced me to take the first set. In Naples, all make the first five years, only now you can, always. If you knew you were a teacher admitted as a listener (I shudder even thinking about the safety standards), then at the end of the first you take an exam and went to second on right.
When I made the 'first examination, as well as when I gave the elementary school, my mother, to be fair, he left the school ...
's use of the school was mixed: c' were sons of gentlemen and children who came from San Jib Lucia, a warren of alleys and stairways that by 'the Egyptian led to a Pizzofalcone S. Lucia, the most intelligent of an intelligent people: so they called my mother, because, he said, had grown up over the sea.
My teacher was called Carolina Bruno Rossi, great lady, good teacher: he did not know when someone slaps drew the lesson that left the 'imprint of the fingers (not me because good daughter and colleague). Nobody dreamed of challenging, even the parents say, "Sign vattitele" asked the teacher to beat their children. I had a friend who called me "Quatt'uocchie" because I wear glasses, but I never felt like an 'offense, was a way to define me.
poor children were given the meal, that is, free snack: sandwiches roses, yellow American cheese and quince jam it was a quince, but tough. The teacher shared the meal and also gave to children who could be poor but not enough to have their rights. I envied very poor children because 'I wanted but it was not me.
We had a voice teacher, and crippled old lady named Chair: in 'now taught us singing the national anthem and "Va pensiero" ... I do not remember other songs.
Mine was a mixed class: it was the 'only one of my life because I have attended middle and high schools by nuns, but this is a' different story. 
are so many of my memories and I would fix them, stop, share with others or even to myself ... What is your earliest memory of a wall ... a 'dark room. To give light on the wall someone had painted a tree branch and a flight of swallows ... but the room remained dark .. It was a 'classroom of the elementary school I attended and where my mother taught .. It was called "E. Fusinato Fua", where E was about to Erminia. I think it was the wife of a poet, Mercantini, that of "The gleaner Sapri" but what had she done to deserve that is called a school, I do not know.
We were housed in a dilapidated building, a pious institution, called "Mondragone Institute, located in the 'homonymous square in the center of Naples, where, among intricate alleys, down from CorsoVittorio Emanuele Via Chiaia: two routes among men with a maze of narrow little poor.
The school was unsafe, which means that everything could collapse at any moment to 'another, but it was said with resignation mixed with a sort of indifference that is typical of the Neapolitan people. How to say "What we putimm 'is?" I 've ever heard: When I was a pupil and later, until my mother retired in '73. The' establishment 'Mondragone "housed holy women, the sisters nearly but not quite: between those ce n' was one that prepared me for the First Communion. C 'was also a guest there was a child, a deaf-mute, survived the earthquake of Messina, I, terrified of any type of malformation, I was afraid and ran away when I saw this poor woman who spoke with moans .. The elementary school had with the 'institute a kind of convention, so, after school, once a week, we girls went to a canteen where we were given lessons in sewing ... I hated those hours: point-to-day , stem stitch, cross stitch .... crap that came out of my reluctant fingers!
's building was an overlap of buildings: c' was a close-up, then a second that is illuminated by a corridor which overlooked the dining hall where we sewed, then through a winding stairway all (I think the current rules security), access to third floor where light c 'was my class.
That's my mother, however, was the first floor: she was the TEACHER .. It was many years in that school to be able to choose the 'classroom, I do not know under what criteria: it was not the prettiest, it was in the side of the dilapidated school, but she liked it. My mother gave the "you" to the Director, because they were related, but not called by name, only the Director and you.
My mother cried when he was teaching, she was good, very, its classes were winning so many competitions, the 'Knight also have made for their academic merits, he loved the students and their' loved it, but cried, I too, in later years I would separate the stentorian tone ... but I remember that as soon as you entered the school, felt the voice of my mother.
I did the first grade three, four and five years, the first two, simply for failing to leave me and where I had refused, rolling on the floor, to attend the 'asylum, took me with him and made me sit in a bench in four years ... ... read and write at five, always dragging me, forced me to take the first set. In Naples, all make the first five years, only now you can, always. If you knew you were a teacher admitted as a listener (I shudder even thinking about the safety standards), then at the end of the first you take an exam and went to second on right.
When I made the 'first examination, as well as when I gave the elementary school, my mother, to be fair, he left the school ...
's use of the school was mixed: c' were sons of gentlemen and children who came from San Jib Lucia, a warren of alleys and stairways that by 'the Egyptian led to a Pizzofalcone S. Lucia, the most intelligent of an intelligent people: so they called my mother, because, he said, had grown up over the sea.
My teacher was called Carolina Bruno Rossi, great lady, good teacher: he did not know when someone slaps drew the lesson that left the 'imprint of the fingers (not me because good daughter and colleague). Nobody dreamed of challenging, even the parents say, "Sign vattitele" asked the teacher to beat their children. I had a friend who called me "Quatt'uocchie" because I wear glasses, but I never felt like an 'offense, was a way to define me.
poor children were given the meal, that is, free snack: sandwiches roses, yellow American cheese and quince jam it was a quince, but tough. The teacher shared the meal and also gave to children who could be poor but not enough to have their rights. I envied very poor children because 'I wanted but it was not me.
We had a voice teacher, and crippled old lady named Chair: in 'now taught us singing the national anthem and "Va pensiero" ... I do not remember other songs.
Mine was a mixed class: it was the 'only one of my life because I have attended middle and high schools by nuns, but this is a' different story.
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