I remember celebrating New Years as a kid. We would be up late the night before and my mom would decorate and make the best pigs in a blanket for us. We would rent lazer discs (yes, remember those?) from the video store. When midnight hit, we would expolde the thousands of poppers at each other with our eyes closed tightly because that popping sound was something else! New Years Day the entire Andriano clan would make the drive into Eatons Neck where you would find grandma in the kitchen cooking up a feast, and grandpa in the sunroom with the same glass of red wine and sprite mixture that he has been nursing for over an hour. Always trying to give us a sip. All while surrounded by Uncles and Aunts Cousins, second cousins. Everyone stuffing their faces with antipasti next to the fire place that grandpa took so much pride in keeping lit. My brother climbing up the electric blue circular staircase, while cousin Sosh wrestles my sister and I on the floor. Loud noises coming from the kitchen, Swearing from her lips in Italian of course because grandpa is now boxed off his red wine and sprite mixture and is up in her cooking space trying to kiss and serenade her with song. Snowfall on the ground overlooking the sound. And there along comes grandpa trying to sneak kisses to all the grandkids. Meanwhile Uncle Greg is pulling out the Alf mask to chase us all around the house scaring the hell out of the little ones. Snowfall on the ground, overlooking the Long Island sound. Bringing in yet another new year. 1990-something. It all goes by so incredibly fast.
Posted on: Thu, 01 Jan 2015 18:11:38 +0000
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