Cu 'o tiempo e cu 'a paglia s'ammaturano 'e nespole

Some things just need to be left alone.

The medlars and Grandma’s message

My grandmother used to set the medlars to ripen in a crate with straw, down in the cellar. Every two days I’d go down to check, and she’d tell me that way they’d never ripen. One May afternoon she sent me to get them and I found them all yellow at once, as if they’d agreed on it. I ate four on the stairs before going back up, and I stained my T-shirt.