Sophia loren today tomorrow

Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow Prologue
The doorbell to my apartment keeps ringing while I finish kneading the last of the struffoli, our traditional Neapolitan Christmas pastry.

I leave the dough to rest and hurry to open the door, my hands covered in flour, wiping them as best I can on my apron.

The florist, behind a huge poinsettia, hints at a smile.

“For you, Signora Loren. Can I get your autograph, please?”

The label on the ribbon takes me back to Italy for an instant.

Yesterday, today and tomorrow aodhán king

I put the plant down on the piece of furniture and open the card. It conveys an affectionate, cheerful thought.

The voices of my grandchildren, who have just arrived from the United States for the holidays, fill the house with excitement and chaos.

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and we’ll finally all be together. The truth is, though, that I’m not ready. How will I manage to feed so many people? How can I possibly fry all those struffoli?

The world whirls around me dizzily and I feel as i