MY DAD HAD A COMPOST PILE IN HIS GARDEN. HE WOULD THROW IN ALL THE LEFT OVER VEGETABLES, ETC. ONE DAY, HE NOTICED A STRANGE NEW PLANT GROWING IN HIS GARDEN. HE ASKED A FAMILY FRIEND WHO COULD NOT FIGURE IT OUT EITHER, THOUGHT IT MIGHT BE POTATOES. WELL, AS THE SUMMER DREW TO A CLOSE AND THE FALL BEGAN, LO & BEHOLD IT WAS A PUMPKIN.
THIS BOOK IS ABOUT MY MEMORIES OF MY PATERNAL GRANDFATHER AND ME WHEN I WAS A LITTLE GIRL IN THE BRONX. HE ALWAYS GAVE ME PIGGYBACK RIDES, READ ALOUD TO ME AND TOOK ME TO THE PLAYGROUND. WE RODE THE ELEVATOR TRAIN (SUBWAY) .WE HAD A SPECIAL BOND.
THIS IS A TRUE STORY OF MY MATERNAL GRANDMOTHER. THIS WAS TOLD TO ME BY BOTH MY MOTHER AND MY AUNTS. MY GRANDMOTHER WAS RATHER PRECOCIOUS LITTLE GIRL, HAD LONG DARK BRAIDS. SHE SOMEHOW SNUCK OUT OF HER HOUSE AND MOUNTED A HORSE ALL BY HERSELF, EXCEPT THAT THE HORSE HAD NOT BEEN TAMED BEFORE. THE HORSE TOOK OFF WITH HER ON IT . SHE ACTUALLY TAMED IT. THIS TOOK PLACE IN HER HOME TOWN OF SORIANO, IN CALABRIA, ITALY.
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