Early in my youth in Italy, I helped my mother washing clothes the primitive way.  Later in life I learned the modern way, having vivid memories of doing both. My grandfather built a large concrete tub, measuring 15’ x 20’, where mountain spring water flowed in.  We laundered our personal clothing here in our backyard.  After they were washed and rung out, we carried them to our rooftop terrace to hang and dry.

On my trips back to Italy. I always visited the washing site for nostalgic reasons. Oh, the rush of memories that were recalled! I was in awe to taste some cherries, figs, and pears from the new-aged, gnarled fruit trees that I used to climb in my childhood.