Boiled lobsters for sale at Woodman’s in Essex, MA
The tip jar at Woodman’s—a family-run business since 1914The “Italian garden” at the Crane Estate in Ipswich, MA (my Italian is on the far right 😉)
The property is now owned and managed by a nonprofit organization: The Trustees of Reservations
The Great House (with a wedding reception underway on the lawn)
The “rose garden” at the Crane Estate is now mostly filled with more sustainable plantings.
The Crane Estate’s salt marsh is part of the largest continuous salt marsh system north of Long Island, spanning nearly 25,000 acres across Essex County.
Everyone around here knows that the one big drawback to this part of our beautiful state is Greenhead fly season. Those little buggers love the salt marshes and their bites really hurt! I was not being bothered by the flies, but they were really going after my poor husband. Maybe they prefer 100% Italian-Americans. (I’m only 50%.) My Irish was protecting me ☘️ 😊
“Summah” is Boston for “summer.” The truth is I’ve never had much of a Boston accent and my husband has mostly lost his, but I do like to hear it when I’m away from home. There are different versions of it, based largely on socioeconomic class. In my opinion, the upper class “Kennedy” version is fading away. You rarely hear it. (Listen to JFK say “summer” at minute 6:00 of this speech.)
The middle class/blue collar version of the accent is way more common. Former Boston Mayor Mahty Walsh had a good one.
We’ve got four distinct seasons here in Massachusetts and there’s just no doubt about it…
It’s still much too cold here in New England, but I attempted to get in the spirit of the holiday weekend by making a red, white and blue dessert. We got a pint of fresh local strawberries from a farm stand (for ten dollars!) and a massive quantity of blueberries (on sale at Whole Foods). Sadly, I could not find any biscuits or mini sponge cakes in the store for strawberry shortcake. (I actually went to two stores looking for them.) So, I substituted puff pastries and here’s what I learned:
You really want an absorbent base for strawberry shortcake. That’s why biscuits or sponge cake work well. Puff pastries, though delicious, don’t exactly enhance the flavor because they don’t absorb the strawberry juices.
Ah well…we managed to polish it off anyway.
The second try was better because I figured out how to remove the top and actually fill the puff pastry.
Thank you to all who have served. I’m from an Air Force family.
My father and my late Aunt Theresa in their Air Force uniforms (mid 1950s). My aunt served for twenty years (1951-1971) in various administrative positions in Germany, Japan and the US.My oh-so-dashing father-in-law (1923-2016), a member of the Greatest Generation, enlisted in 1943 and retired as a Major in the USAF in 1968.
The United States military was a key component of achieving the American Dream for these children of poor Italian immigrants. It changed everything for them, and therefore, for us.
I’m continuing to selectively digitize my old photos and I bring you a comparison of the two methods: iPhone photo vs PhotoScan by Google.
iPhone photo of an old print PhotoScan by Google of the same pictureiPhone photo PhotoScan by Google
Let me know if you have thoughts about which method is better quality, because it’s too much work to do both.
Because most of these photos are stuck in the old adhesive style photo albums, I’m having to pry them out if I want to see what (if anything) is written on the back. Then I’m stuck with a loose photo that I’ve been taping back into place with painter’s tape.
The photos above were taken on my “First Communion” day in April 1973. Despite my previously described love of veils, I remember I did not like that one. It was attached to a very uncomfortable headband that squeezed my head painfully. Perhaps this was a sign of the rocky road ahead for me and the Catholic Church.
Other than the painful headband, I remember getting some religious-themed presents (a Bible locket, an angel) and being made to feel quite special with a family party after the main event at the church.
I think we look like a real mid-century Italian-American family in these photos, but my dad is no Tony Soprano. He loved his mother (my long-widowed “Grammy”) dearly and she worshipped him. He was far and away her favorite child. As the only boy in an Italian family, he was extra special and he took great care of her until her death in 1992, just a month short of her 90th birthday.
Our first house was a somewhat dilapidated antique outside of Boston. It had a “city yard” – about a quarter acre of rutted dirt and weeds. My husband Mario transformed it into an adorable garden and play area, complete with extensive stonework, including a patio and stone wall.
I take credit for none of it. He lifted all those rocks and pavers himself. Italians are known for their wonderful stonework. I think he got that gene. He also got the Italian “green thumb” gene.
My daughter driving her car on the stone patio, 1997ish
About 5 years later, my son on the same patio with the stonewall behind him
The patio was the perfect size for toddlers and their large plastic toys. I could watch them from my kitchen window.
Our late cat Kimba the White Lion on the stone wall
My husband grew all of these vegetables himself in that tiny yard one summer.
![A logo for "50 Happens," [a site dedicated to Gen X women with children and grandchildren] [who embrace life's challenges with humor and resilience], [featuring a modern and uplifting design] [that embodies strength and positivity] [with an elegant and playful style] [and a harmonious blend of colors like pink, fuchsia, purple, and blue].](https://50happens.blog/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/img-5uorrxvwartomopcpuhjfjd0.png?w=300)
50 Happens 