L’Americana
A short history of catnip
There's a big white and grey cat that every so often comes out of my crawl space. Herman is his name. I've been forewarned not to feed him, and I [...]
The long goodbye
It's official: My father sold the family home in Iowa. After talking about it for almost a decade, he finally accepted an offer a few weeks ago. I can't help [...]
Dammi la mano
Carne. It was my turn at the emergency room at a hospital in Bologna, and the male orderly butchered my name. Carne, of course, means meat, and I bristled at [...]
Finish lines
Word got around in my labor and delivery room that I'd run the Rome marathon. I'd mentioned it to the midwife the morning I checked into the hospital, explaining that [...]
For love of pigs
You can take the girl out of Iowa, but good luck taking the Iowa out of the girl, especially when it comes to pig love.
The dress in the attic
A grandmother's dress, extracted from its sleepy attic domain, opens into a world of Italian family memories.
Pianist to poet
Once a promising pianist, the author "graduated" to verse, with key life lessons learned along the way.
Coming ‘home’
For the author, time spent in Lazio's Sabine Hills pops open a treasure chest of Italian memories.
Happy Birthday — you’re pregnant
The 41-year-old author had a vision, but put it in her back drawer, until it came to life.
One last dance
The author's father is getting married at 78, and the impending change elicits a flood of thoughts and memories.
Between two countries
For an American who spent vital years in Rome, nostalgia is less abstract than it is a kind of calling.
About a dog
The story of a dog often has much in common with the story of a human life and its passages.
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.