I sit and think of my second book. The Other Half, I like to call it: Tales of life on the farm where I grew up, the other side of my family. Oh, I started it, some time back. But I open the document and my heart sinks. If Half Italian is going nowhere, why bother with this second collection? Too bad, such funny stories. The Gas Thieves; Getting Stuck in the Walnut Dryer; The Pet Alligator; Stealing Farm Workers Lunches; so many tales, to give people a lift. We need a lift these days, as our economy, our investments, and our spirits gloom.
It’s Friday evening. I’ve closed The Other Half, and won’t open it again today.
All is not lost; the sun still shines outside, radiant, over my Little Tuscany. A pleasant breeze comes in, through the open window.