Holding seven socks in one hand while picking off pegs is much easier than doing it one at a time. I blink my eyes and all of a sudden Spring is here and i'm wearing boardshorts. I love that smell in the air, that Springtime pollen, flowery sorta smell. It says to me "Sarah, i've got more to come". Something like, sun on my back, a "a table for 20", touch football on the beach at 12am, jumping on a trampoline with 3 and 5 year olds in my cousin's backyard, sandals and festivals of all sorts in Sydney...
Well it's nice to know that things like this are around, i think i am not grateful enough at times.
For some reason, some wiki got me all wiki and i ended up reading some stuff on Al Capone, the notorious Italian-American gangster. His father Gabriele was a barber from a town called Castellamare di Stabia, which is not far from a city i where I lived in Southern Italy. I thought "Hmm, there is a possiblity he could've been telling the truth" as I remembered how good ole nostaccio man with the walnut hat who we'd always talk to, once told me he was Al Capone's cousin. I could have said at that point "So am I". Everyone is related to everytone in the bel paese. I remember each time we talked to him the young boys on their motorinos would whistle the tune to "The Godfather".
Perhaps one day we might know, but for now i am happy with picking seven socks off at once, and visiting over at Hero's house.
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