L’Americana
Bound and determined
When I got pregnant nearly four years ago, I was at a crossroads in my life. I’d just been accepted into a two-year writing residency in Vermont and it seemed [...]
Anything but coasting
I’ve never been a thrill-seeker. I’ve even been called a stick-in-the-mud. As a fourth grader at my school’s annual carnival, they had to stop the Tilt-A-Whirl for me because it [...]
Becoming my grandmother
It’s often said that women become their mothers. Ever since my mother died twelve years ago, I’ve noticed how I’ve become increasingly like her, from the big things to the [...]
Summer of love
Since the start of the pandemic, an Italian phrase has been on my mind: abbiamo soltanto gli uni e gli altri. We only have each other. This might seem paradoxical, [...]
Christmas in exile
One year, I got a Snicker’s bar for Christmas. I’m sure my mother gave me other gifts, as did my Italian boyfriend at the time. But it's the candy bar [...]
COVID of the mind
The 1989 movie “Field of Dreams” plays out in my home state of Iowa and at the time gave the sparsely populated state some brief notoriety. One line stands out: [...]
Bugs, butterflies, and wisdom
In the past month, I’ve encountered two big roaches in my car. A while ago, I wrote about my fear of roaches, after having found one in my Florida bedroom, [...]
La mangione
Not so long ago I was feeding my daughter Julia bites of sweet potato fries at dinner. Suddenly, though, she stopped eating — not unusual behavior for a toddler. Not [...]
In a breath
I've returned to meditating lately. What's a bit different this time around is that I'm now doing it daily. I'd been practicing meditating on and off for many years, but [...]
Tell it slant
Last week, I took my two-year-old daughter Julia to her first dental appointment. We’ve been brushing her teeth now for a while, and I had prepped her with a Peppa [...]
Once upon a time…
Several weeks ago, after my evening shower, I came back to the bedroom to find my phone submerged in a glass of ice water. Mama’s phone in da watuh, my [...]
Seventeen, and other perils
In Italy, writes columnist Kristine Crane, the number 17 invites bad tidings, a nefarious twist on what the Roman lettering XVII can be rearranged to mean.
Author, Associate Editor
Kristine Crane
Kristine Crane, who writes the “L’Americana” column, lives and writes in North Central Florida. She was formerly a Fulbright scholar and journalist in Rome, where she helped found “The American.” She is originally from Iowa City.