Incontinent on the Continent: My Mother, Her Walker, and Our Grand Tour of Italy

Incontinent on the Continent: My Mother, Her Walker, and Our Grand Tour of Italy

Jane Christmas

Language: English

Pages: 288

ISBN: 1553654005

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


To smooth over five decades of constant clashing, determined daughter Jane Christmas decides to take her arthritic, incontinent, and domineering mother, Valeria, to Italy. Will being at the epicenter of the Renaissance spark a renaissance in their relationship? As they drag each other from the Amalfi Coast to Tuscany — walkers, shawls, and a mobile pharmacy of medications in tow — they find new ways to bitch and bicker, in the process reassessing who they are and how they might reconcile. Unflinching and often hilarious, this book speaks to all women who have faced that special challenge of making friends with Mom.

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Wandered away at some point during the conversation. When I located her, she was poking around a stall that sold kitchenware, and was holding a plastic spatula as if considering its purchase. I gently pried it out of her hand and placed it back on the table. “How on earth were you able to converse with those women?” Mom asked. “They spoke English, so it wasn’t too difficult for me,” I answered. “That didn’t sound like English to me.” We walked a little more, but Mom was now tiring. “Had.

Courtroom and laughed in his face, then strolled out the door to freedom. That’s the thing with Italy; it can be achingly beautiful and at the same time heartbreakingly ugly. Between Catania and Enna we drove through the predictable swath of boxy, bland shapes that is sadly characteristic of suburban highway architecture—a sight that always sends me into a stupor—and then somewhere on the outskirts of Enna the scenery changed dramatically. We found ourselves meandering through pure,.

Common— they are both in a constant state of eruption—but then I thought better of it. “Did you know that Etna is so big that its plume and lava flows can be seen from the International Space Station?” I said, trying to draw her into conversation. She responded with little more than “Hmm” and a slight smile. And then, “Are those houses?” “Why, yes they are,” I answered, rather perplexed myself by the sight: Etna, the largest and most unpredictable volcano in Europe, has a bourgeoning housing.

Surroundings and the somewhat dull routine we had carved out for ourselves back at the trullo. I was anxious to get back, too, if only to relinquish the grind of driving all day. It felt like my ass had been permanently glued to the driver’s seat. After four and a half hours of stop-and-go traffic, in which we covered less than a quarter of the distance we had done in the same amount of time a few days earlier, it became obvious that home was another day away. The sun began its quick dip to.

Defense but simply toddled away with her red walker. “Now, where did you park?” she called out to me. “I’ve had a delightful time, but I’m a bit tired now. Wasn’t that funny? All those nice policemen?” I could barely contain my anger when I caught up to her. “Why did you go to the police?” I asked. “Well, I didn’t know where you were,” she said, her big brown eyes giving me a look of utter innocence. “You were gone so long.” “We agreed to meet up in an hour, and in fact we were back in less.

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