Musical Monday: Non Ti Scordar di Me - Pavarotti

I am a first generation Italian American, which is to say, that both of my parents were born and raised in Italy. I've had the privilege and opportunity to visit and travel throughout Italy quite a few times: as a child, as a young adult, as an single adult and now as an adult with my own family. I have been truly blessed to visit and partake in the vistas that my parents enjoyed as they grew and helped to form them. There is a sense of familiarity with the land itself, with the hospitality of the people, with the beauty of the arts and oh, lets not forget the food.

Growing up, I listened to all sorts of music with my parents with equal measures of Italian and American fare, but this one song always filled me with magic as a child and now fills me with the joy of my Italian heritage.

Just like the country and her people, my choice for Musical Monday pulls at me and moves me in a very profound and emotional way. I hope you will turn up your volume, close your eyes and let the music take you on a journey.

Non ti Scordar di Me: Luciano Pavarotti

Here are the words for you - first in Italian and then a translation:

Partirono le rondini

nel mio paese freddo e senza sole

cercando primavere di viole

nidi d’amore e di felicità.

La mia piccola rondine partì

senza lasciarmi un bacio

senza un addio partì.

Non ti scordar di me

la vita mia è legata a te

io t’amo sempre più

nel sogno mio rimani tu.

Non ti scordar di me

la vita mia è legata a te

c’è sempre un nido nel mio cuor per te

non ti scordar di me.

Non ti scordar di me

la vita mia è legata a te

c’è sempre un nido nel mio cuor per te

non ti scordar di me.


Do Not Forget Me

The swallows have left

my cold and sunless land,

to seek the spring among the violets,

love nests of happiness.

My little swallow has flown,

without leaving me a kiss,

without saying goodbye.

Do not forget me,

my life is joined to yours.

My love for you will always grow,

you will always be in my dreams.

Do not forget me:

my life is joined with yours.

There’ll always be a nest in my heart for you,

Do not forget me!

Do not forget me:

my life is joined with yours.

There’ll always be a nest in my heart for you,

Do not forget me!

What's moving you today!? Please go check out Jori & Diane's Musical Monday and share your own!

Martha Stewart, meet Cruella De Ville

They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions, but I say it’s paved with at-home dinner parties… specifically MY HOME dinner parties.

I do it almost weekly. I speak with a friend(s) or a family member(s) and I enjoy the conversation so much that I follow it up with a heartfelt and slightly delusional, “Why don’t you all come to dinner this weekend? What date works best for you?” If he’s around, I always glance at my husband and see the glazed over deer-in-the-headlights look that always overtakes his face. I’m always surprised by it. He always enjoys these effortless social experiences. If he’s not around, I always call immediately and make sure he hadn’t planned a jet-set getaway to Paris for us….err..no. I always sincerely ask him, “Does that work for you, Sweetheart?” and he always fumbles and mumbles his reply. “Sure, Honey….if…um…it works for you.”. I always feel really good about the whole thing as I’m inviting. Ahhh, I say to myself…this is going to be fun! Tra la la! Then the real joy of the planning begins. Hmmm…where should we eat…inside…outside….should we add twinkly lights outside….hmmmm..what should I make….cheese fondue and filet mignon….pasta and a roast…ohhh…that dessert I saw in that magazine…yes….it must be that dessert…..what music should I play….ahhh…the MAGIC is in the details! I always picture my home, not as small and cramped, but as warm and cozy. I never picture our backyard as ravaged by the war between beast (my Labrador) and man (my 4 year old and 2 year old) but as a charming oasis of peace in a hectic world.

OK, just so you have the timeline correct….let’s say…Monday, the invitation is made…the die is cast, as they say, and Saturday night is our quiet little event. Let’s be clear….the amount of time in between the invitation and the hosting is really not what’s important here…whether I have a week, a month or 6 months to prepare...it always ends the same. Here’s what happens in between:

Monday: Casually invite friend, family member to our home. Happiness and anticipation abounds.

Tuesday: I start thinking of what we should make for dinner and where we will actually sit down to eat. Somehow, doctor appointments, school and other social engagements start filling in every afternoon and evening leading up to our dinner. I start to worry. I push the worry aside and continue on.

Wednesday: I get a real clear look at my house and it needs a thorough cleaning and/or demolition.

Thursday: I plan when I’m going to go to the store on Friday and start mentally making a list. I don’t need to actually write anything down. My mind is a steal trap. Beyond that, I start saying that I need to clean the house. I say this to everyone who is within hearing distance and I even call a few people.

Friday: I start feeling pressure. I haven’t cleaned the house. I haven’t gone grocery shopping. I am working a full day and have a play date scheduled for the kids as well as a social engagement I can’t get out of that night. I start wondering how I’m going to get everything done. I mention this to my husband and he soothingly tells me not to worry, that we should go out , eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow will take care of itself. He gives me a pep talk on how we are a team and that he will help me clean whatever I want later on that night. Around 9:30 I’m still complaining that things aren’t cleaned. My husband tells me to relax and that tomorrow morning will bring fresh energy and a clearer picture of what needs to be done. I’m consoled and I sit down to watch a movie with my husband. Isn’t he great?

Saturday Morning: “This is a mistake!” I scream. “Why do I do this?”, I wail. “What business do I have hosting 10 people in a house the size of a mouse trap?!” This is all said as I’m clearing the kitchen counters of all of the clutter that has accumulated from my previous dinner party. I start throwing out orders and doing what I do best. DELIGATE. Husband – grocery store run. “Please bring the kids with you!”, I beg. I have already forgotten the simple elegant meal I had planned and suddenly 13 course elaborate meals seem more appropriate. It takes a bit of time for my husband to talk me off the ledge and to talk me into making one of his favorite dishes. Done. My mother, God love her, quietly melts into the background dusting everything in sight and cleaning the guest bathroom.

Saturday Afternoon: “Why did we buy such a small house?”, “Who leaves all this stuff around?!?!” I’ve now managed to clear everything from the dining area, living room and kitchen area and pile it precariously in my office. Quickly, I close the door and pray that no one walks into the room accidentally. I next cordon off almost half of the rest of the house to walk through traffic. If people feel they need to use the other bathroom, they will have to exercise their control muscles, because there is no way I’m going to allow it. Husband returns with the kids and groceries and I begin to put together this incredible meal while juggling tasks and setting the table, putting fresh flowers through the house and idling threatening my 4 year old and 2 year old against putting any toys on the floor. We wouldn’t want anyone to think that kids actually play here. Throughout this whole experience I make my kids cry at least once through my hysteria, my mom tremble with annoyance at least twice and I break down crying at the very least three times. Usually about 10 minutes before people arrive I have a Sophie’s choice experience deciding whether I’m going to put finishing touches on the meal or whether I’m going to shower.

Saturday Evening: The guests arrive, my hair is partially damp and my blood pressure is causing a little vein on the side of my head to start throbbing. I start passing out beverages, my great husband perfectly hosts and we begin the evening…..and halfway through the meal…. I relax. And a beautiful thing happens. I remember why I do this so often. It’s fun! Setting the stage for a wonderful meal and conversation with friends and family IS fun…and NEXT TIME, I promise myself, I will get myself together sooner and not leave things for the last minute!

Sunday Morning: I get a call from friends that I haven’t seen in a few weeks. We talk about how great things are when we get together and I casually mention that we should get together for a meal. “What are you guys doing next weekend?”

Musical Monday - Alain Clark: Father & Friend

I was recently watching an Italian Musical Festival Extravaganza!!!!, Festivale di San Remo and caught this father son act from the Netherlands. I LOVED IT immediately and wanted to share it with all of you!

This song is what's currently moving me on many different levels....I love the obvious love and respect between father and son and I enjoy the idea of that love and respect being passed on to future generations. It makes me think of the special relationship between my husband and son.

What's moving you? Go check out Jori and Diane's Musical Monday and share yours!