Her homemade jams / Le sue marmellate fatte in casa - 5 Minute Freewrite Day 199 [Eng/Ita]
Her homemade jams had always puzzled us. The leeks and radishes jam was a bit too spicy, the jelly bean jam was cloying so sweet it was, the potato jam was not very easy to swallow: Alcibiades had almost suffocated himself with a spoonful of that yellowish paste.
In short, it's not that we were very enthusiastic about the umpteenth invitation, but how to refuse? The dear old Grandma Betty didn't have many friends and led a solitary life in her seventh-floor apartment.
In fact, John-Anthony, asserted that she no longer came down. After all, she had her shopping delivered at home, and the large terrace she used as a vegetable garden was a forest of tomatoes and aubergines, flowers buzzing of bees and strange plants that no one in the city had ever seen.
I think that, at least once a month, Grandma Betty still ventured into the neighborhood, which by now must have been unrecognizable - the houses, the faces, the languages, the density of traffic had changed, since she had moved in with her log time deceased husband and the children, gone who knows where in the world.
I think that, at least once a she embarked on the adventure of getting to the post office to pick up the pension, challenging the cars speeding madly for her and the thousands of pitfalls that an old person, around which the world has changed too much, has to face.
Poor Grandma Betty. We all call her that, but she is not our grandmother, she is more a spiritual grandma: we have adopted her, she has adopted us.
It will also be strange to taste horseradish and zucchini jam, or thistles and kiwi's, it will also be a sometimes daring gustatory experience, daring like going to pick up the pension in the middle of street pirates and drug dealers, but in this blackened cement mousetrap there it makes us feel a little human again.
[versione italiana]
Le sue marmellate fatte in casa ci avevano sempre lasciati perplessi. La marmellata di porri e ravanelli era risultata un po' troppo piccante, la marmellata di jelly beans era stucchevole da tanto era dolce, la marmellata di patate non era molto facile da deglutire: Alcibiade si era quasi soffocato con una cucchiaiata di quella pasta giallastra.
Insomma, non è che fossimo molto entusiasti dell'ennesimo invito, ma come rifiutare? La cara, vecchia, nonna Bettina non aveva molti amici e conduceva una vita solitaria nel suo appartamento al settimo piano.
Gianantonio sosteneva, anzi, che lei ormai non scendesse più. Del resto si faceva recapitare la spesa a casa, e il grande terrazzo che aveva adibito a orto era una foresta di pomodori e melanzane, fiori ronzanti di api e strane piante che nessuno in città aveva mai visto.
Io penso che, almeno una volta al mese, nonna Bettina si avventurasse ancora nel quartiere, che ormai doveva esserle irriconoscibile - erano cambiate le case, le facce, le lingue, la densità del traffico, da quando si era trasferita assieme al marito ormai defunto da lungo tempo e ai figli, partiti per chissà dove nel mondo.
Io penso che, almeno una volta al mese, intraprendesse l'avventura di arrivare fino all'ufficio postale per ritirare la pensione, sfidando le macchine che sfrecciavano a velocità per lei folle e le mille insidie che deve affrontare un anziano attorno al quale il mondo è troppo cambiato.
Povera nonna Bettina. La chiamiamo tutti così, ma non è nostra nonna, è più una nonna spirituale: noi l'abbiamo adottata, lei ha adottato noi.
Sarà pure strano assaggiare marmellata di rafano e zucchine, o di cardi e kiwi, sarà pure un'esperienza gustativa a volte spericolata come andare a ritirare la pensione in mezzo a pirati della strada e spacciatori, ma in questa trappola per topi di cemento annerito ci fa sentire ancora un po' umani.
This post is part of the 5 Minute Freewrite Contest.
This is also done with The Most Dangerous Writing App and only a little editing for typos.
All images are my own unless otherwise cited.
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Really deep and shows all your sensitiveness. This is a gem, especially for the way you closed it.. tip!
Thank you, my friend!
The closure seems to me a little hurried, but the timer was already off and I didn't want to adjust too much: I like my freewrites as raw and immediate as possible.
That's the way they should be.. i like it for its authenticity!
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