Simple School Initiation Ideas

Irene and "Don Vincenzino"

I spoke of the period of medium already in another story, but I think my wife Irene and the teacher of history and geography: prof. Vincenzo Lime, deserve a separate chapter.
It was November 11 when he arrived in class the new professor, I think I have an iron memory to remember the day ... a bit true, but why I remember so well is that my partner Irene stravolse lyrics Albano: December 13, and made a blockbuster .. dedicating it to the victim by her professor dubbed "Don Vincenzino.
text rewritten by Irene: the eleven Saint Martin in November has arrived at school a teacher who we all called Don Vincenzino ... how many big oil stains on his pants, has broken shoes .. look at him with terror has rabbit ears, the mouth as a can, it seems the great
Salamone wise but it is not .... and so on.
In fact, a little strange was the professor, went to school always a bit disheveled, with the same rumpled suit .. and think that one day we saw him arrive in class with the pajama top under the shirt and sweater instead of with slippers.
The funny thing is that Irene, with amazing chutzpah, the humming this song every time he entered the classroom, but he, the professor did not take the at all even laughed with us.
In my opinion, Irene could become a great actress, had a natural talent.
Whenever the prof had to question if someone was in trouble ... here you go on stage ... coming out of his desk and began, with an excuse to close prof, always wore skirts and vertiginous scollatture who placed well highlight the beautiful breasts busty, was constantly on his questions ... and often questions the bell sounded to end now ....

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Water

Water, in these last days I feel finally talk about the importance of water and absolute danger that this becomes, in a future closer, a source of income for the few at the expense of the community.
As often happens, we realize the problem until it is too tardi.Nelle modern houses there is nothing more obvious of opening the water tap to serve for any use, dall'igene staff to clean the house.
For me it has always been so, even if it was easy to get used to the convenience (it is more difficult to reverse).
In the small village where I was born and raised, the water was a precious commodity and will become even more in summer.
During the winter until late spring, all the water that was used had to go and take to the river but dry during the summer season, there were still some puddles and sometimes not even those.
For drinking and cooking was no problem, on land owned by my family was a very good source from which they drew all the inhabitants of the village (no one has ever thought to consider private property and as such to it pay)
became difficult to do laundry. often had to reach "rock Ruja knows" where remained almost always a large pool of water, a very charming in a ravine between two rocky cliffs of red (from here the name) My mother often took me with him and I loved it
seemed to be in an enchanted place (to my mother .. probably not) I had heard often, "unu siddadu" (treasure) that someone would hide in the crevices of rock faces and I liked to fantasize that if I could find I would be rich ...
But sometimes, when spring was particularly siccittosa had to go to fetch water even further to "fulcada know, we came back up the mountain in the paths of the goats and then had to get off on the other side and it was not an easy task with the clothes and the copper kettle that had to carry around to make lye, my task was to look for newly arrived dry branches to light the fuoco.Anche there the place was magical suspended like living in another dimension.

My Career From My Birth Date

photography

When I was little, in the early sixties, in my little village was very raro vedere qualche automobile e quando accadeva diventava un'avvenimento di cui si parlava per giorni.Gli adulti, sopratutto le donne, guardavano senza essere viste da dietro le imposte socchiuse,mentre noi bambini,guardavamo da lontano, combattuti tra la paura e la voglia di avvicinarci.
Un giorno,i miei genitori erano andati in paese,non sarebbero tornati prima della sera ed io mi sentivo libera di scorazzare come un maschiaccio,dopo aver giocato per tutta la mattina ad arrampicarci ed a saltare da una roccia all'altra ,il mio povero vestito era ridotto proprio maluccio,l'orlo pendava scucito da una parte per non parlare di uno strappo notevole causato da un ramo che ebbe la malaugurata idea di infilarsi nella mia tasca.
Nel primo pomeriggio we saw a car coming, ignoring for a moment our games, we all see, the car stopped in the tiny square in front of the house of Tata, we, not daring to get too close to home we stopped in front of Uncle Rimundu, higher than piazza.Ne came down to a man and a woman armed with a camera, snapped several pictures .. I realized I was in between being left alone, but I'm not breaking down and stood there watching until the two do not go away.
Some time passed, he began the school year I attended the first grade, my teacher Rosa, who lived in my house, received a teaching journal, I think it was called that, but I'm not sure .... and surprise. was .. una mia foto, completava un'articolo che parlava di Concas come di un posto del terzo mondo...in effetti a guardare quella foto....si vedeva una bambina scalza ,spettinata , con il vestito a brandelli..forse anche con il viso sporco,ma per fortuna la foto era in bianco e nero...no, non davo proprio una bella impressione.
Io ero tutta contenta di vedere una mia foto sul giornale...anche se non era vogue,mia madre invece si arrabbiò moltissimo...e io non capii il perchè.

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my grandmother told

Mia nonna raccontava ,d'inverno accanto al camino ,il chiarore del fuoco era l'unica luce che illuminava la grande cucina.
Raccontava di quando era bambina e con la mamma e il fratello seguivano il padre nel suo continuo girovagare per gli tonnages of Gallura Santu S'ispiridu, Pedru Gajas, fold, in his stories took a magical dimension.
and he told her about that time, sixteen years old and already a mother, Christmas Eve defied the wrath of "pride Porcu" going to church with this child while not yet baptized. (Then it was forbidden)
told of a winter's night, a storm, thunder and lightning tore the air, someone knocked on the door, strange, "Passizzera" did not bark, maybe the police, she barked to the police,, Peppe grandfather opened it and found himself facing three armed men, and greeted one of them, clearly the leader, asked if he had something to eat cunt, my grandmother sat calmly on the tavolo pane,formaggio e vino,i tre mangiarono,salutarono e se ne andarono....era il bandito Pasquale Stocchino e due suoi amici.
Raccontava di quella volta che dovette stare sveglia tutta la notte per rammendare l'abito del vescovo che si era strappato mentre scendeva a piedi da "Su Cossu"....allora anche i vescovi andavano a piedi.Io ricordo lo stesso vescovo, monsignore Giuseppe Melas ,vecchio ,nella sua ultima visita pastorale,si fece accompagnare questa volta in macchina,a visitare mia nonna,anche lei ormai vecchia.
E poi raccontava di quella volta che una pentola di minestrone bollente cadde addosso a mio fratello Peppino che allora aveva tre anni.Nessuno pensava che si sarebbe salvato,ma lei caparbiamente non si arrese,si procurò ,non so dove una pozione di erbe,per quasi un anno non fu possibile mettergli vestiti addosso ,ma lentamente,molto lentamente guarì.
E poi raccontava storie leggendarie di banditi che si rifugiavano nella cima del monte "Tepilore"
e da li controllavano tutto il territorio, e di Pasca De Faddis,una donna che ,per amore scelse di vivere alla macchia.
Raccontava ,nonna,finchè la fiamma del fuoco lentamente si spegneva ed era il momento di andare a dormire

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sos Trigoso (de deus)

Quando ero piccola ,ogni anno a metà quaresima, mia madre e mia nonna preparavano i piatti con "sos trigos". Sceglievano con cura i piatti,i più belli, il cui fondo veniva ricoperto dal grano e dall' acqua necessaria ,venivano poi sistemati buio.Il to put it inside my bedside table and every morning, just got it checked with forward growth and if necessary add acqua.In short time the dish becomes a small wheat field, so that the slender stalks were bent around legandovi were kept on a strip of stoffa.Per on Easter Sunday the grain had to be handsome, tall and very important thing biondo.E then the time comes, get ready for the party, I covavo eyes, I wanted that was my most beautiful, which is distinguished from all others and therefore, with the help of my grandmother was looking for the most colorful ribbons to tie around in large fiocchi.E is, among all the others lined up in the little church, mine is just the most beautiful Mah ... .. who knows, each child must have thought the same thing of his

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when I was little

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gI1V8BSEhFQ