Help keep me alive and working! My only income comes from my writing and having adventures; so help keep me going even at 74 and with Parkinson’s.
“Stuff is eaten by dogs, broken by family and friends, sanded down by the wind, frozen by the mountains, lost by the prairie, burnt off by the sun, washed away by the rain. So you are left with dogs, family, friends, sun, rain, wind, prairie and mountains. What more do you want?”
–Federico Calboli
I was so moved to discover your now much dated post on the Italian nursery rhyme “Trot trot cavalin…”! I grew up in the 1950s in California. My grandparents immigrated from northern Italy to Nevada in the 19th century where my mother was born in 1916. She didn’t speak Italian fluently at all, but she retained nursery rhymes in her parent’s dialect that she would recite to me. I eventually studied in Italy and speak Italian fluently, and know Italy well, but I was never able to document this particular nursery rhyme. I can still hear my mother saying to me: “Trot trot cavalot…” and continuing in words that I didn’t understand but that nonetheless transported me to my mysterious and foggy ancestral past. Thank you so much for posting. I’m truly moved!
I believe the commenter was referring to this old post.