Snow and old letters.

We have even more snow today. In our part of the state, which is southern most tip, we don't see much snow these days.  When I was a kid here we had a lot of snow and would always head for the "big hill" and sled all day.  But, since I moved back here a few years ago there just hasn't been much.  However, we are getting it from the north and from the south.

No lessons again today.  I pulled out a folder that was placed at the very bottom of the drawer on my computer desk and it is filled with letters that I wrote to my mother while I lived and studied in Rome, Italy and while on the USO tour in Germany.  I was reading some of them and some of the instances are still in my brain, but others I simply cannot remember them happening. The "big" things, I remember.  I talked about a concert I went to hear.  Beginning singers from so many different countries. My friend, Peggy, was performing.  I met a girl from Manhattan, Leslie Ross, who was in Rome because she was with an opera company from the states. They were supposed perform the opera, but something happened and she said she only had enough money to last 2 months.  She was looking for a job. Then as I read the letter, I described this woman I began talking to, (about 50 years old, I say) with bleached blonde hair, oodles and gobs of makeup. She had a blue band around her head and a blue rose sticking up very nicely on top of her head. With a veil!  Her stage name was Mina Allen. Her actual name was very long and couldn't be pronounced, by me anyway.. I do remember her. 

I met a boy from England, Douglas Smith. He didn't have any money either. (Musicians never do)..His only way of making a living was giving English lessons. He had studied for some time with the same woman I studied with, Mrs. Immelen..She didn't charge him very much, but he stopped going to the lessons.  He just didn't have any money and Mrs. Immelen said that had she known that's why he quit she would have given him the lessons for free.  I described him as "very short, my height, about 26 or 27. I decided he must have worked hard to get enough money to train his voice, and I admired him for it" 

I certainly won't go into the complete length of the letter (it was a long one), but after the concert we all went out to eat.  I write.."You should have heard all the different languages spoken around the table.  English, French, Italian, Hungarian and German. Of course, everyone could speak a little Italian.  This Hungarian girl speaks Italian, German, French and Hungarian. She was trying to talk to Peggy, so she spoke to Peggy's husband in German, he translated it into English, then Peggy answered in Italian. So there we were!"

I need to get all of these letters organized. I'm so thankful that my mother saved them.  She also created a scrap book for me and because of that I have many photos and memories more vivid and accessible than if they were only tucked away in my brain.