tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31758730.post116655427589290145..comments2023-09-27T13:20:49.976-07:00Comments on lnostra-costa: A CHRISTMAS STORY 'SU PER LA COSTA'Ivano Franco Comellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17088771740643993831noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31758730.post-1166588074411259772006-12-19T20:14:00.000-08:002006-12-19T20:14:00.000-08:00The first Christmas tree I can remember was a smal...The first Christmas tree I can remember was a small artificial one. It was only about 18 inches tall, and made of wire bristling with green cellophane simulations of pine needles. It had red beads at the ends of the branches, and a wooden cube base about four inches per side and painted white with red bells and wreaths on it. My mother decorated it with shiny silver half-globes which had multi color iridescent stars on the inside. I loved that little tree, and we kept it for many years.<BR/><BR/>On one of the times in which I had a Summer ailment, (measles, mumps, chicken pox, etc. I caught them all.) she did her best to make me comfortable in bed. She asked me, "What else can I do for you now?" I asked, "could you please put up the little Christmas tree?" This she did for me, although it was in June. I was amazed even then, that she would take the time, as busy as she was, to do that for me. <BR/><BR/>My most memorable Christmas tree, however was one that I never expected. It was around 1943, I think. I had asked for a real tree, hopefully a big one, but Baffi said it was impossible, as they were too expensive. <BR/><BR/>One day he went up Bay Street to the area now known as "Westlake" looking for funghi. (mushrooms) I spied him as he returned, carrying a gunny sack with several fine big mushrooms, and in his other had carrying a branch. Redwood? I asked what that was for. He said, "it is your Christmas tree." <BR/><BR/>It was a scrawny looking thing. I complained that it could never look like a Christmas tree. My mother told me to watch and learn. She took some thread and tied some of the branches closer together, arranging them in such a clever way, that it did indeed look like a fine big tree. Then she had me put the globes and tinsel on it. <BR/><BR/>Granted, it was not the most traditional looking tree, but it turned out to be the most memorable one, mainly because I never would have expected Baffi to go to that much trouble to get it. I have been thankful for his gift for all these years.<BR/><BR/>Incidentally, as funghi were mentioned, I recall my mother telling me not to eat mushrooms one night. "Wait till morning, and if Baffi is still alive, you can have some too." Well, one time he and I both had a touch of something after having mushrooms. I don't remember it myself, but my mother told me we were both pretty sick. Fortunately, it was not as bad as what happened to my doctor. Doctor Garibotti, his wife, and two daughters died within hours of eating poisonous mushrooms. Baffi said that he knew the difference between the safe ones and the poisonous ones, but even the good ones can be deadly if there is something toxic in the soil. (even rusty metal cans)<BR/><BR/><BR/>Buon Natale, Ivano, e tutti gli amici su per la Costa. Buona fine e buon principio.<BR/><BR/>Gino<BR/><BR/>LNC:I remember Dr. Garibotti. He was my Doctor in between Dr. Sullivan and Dr. Allegrini. I remember him as a very nice man who spoke Italian quite well. My mother liked him a lot. After his death I refused to eat wild mushrooms although my father, mother and brother did. I remember going to bed at night afraid that I would wake up in the morning only to find my entire family dead. I never knew why they had to eat those mushrooms. ivn0Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com