Bedtime Classics Fever Dream

My favorite bedtime story as a kid was easily this giant, orange, hardcover book of nursery rhymes as told by the cast of Hanna Barbera cartoons. I imagine we must have read them all, but never in a night. This book was truly massive. The Flintstones were front and center; but it also included Scooby-Doo, the Jetsons, and Yogi-Bear. Nothing really stands out as far as stories go (other than the Princess and the Pod starring Wilma Flintstone and images of the Scooby-Doo gang at the carnival), but the images seem to be imprinted in my mind. I’m not sure I ever saw a book with full pages of color like this one – no margins, text on the pictures! I remember how colorful and gorgeous the images were on each page, even if it was some simply drawn cartoons. It was so cool to see the characters I knew and loved in a different way, on paper, and telling stories outside of their own. It was like seeing the characters acting. This could have potentially been the moment where I developed emotional, human attachment to fictional characters, but I’m not mad.

Another classic was the Mother Goose collection we had. That one is really lost in the rabbit holes of my mind. I can’t even find the cover for this one based on my memory. I thought it was a sky-blue book with a goose in the middle and framed with various characters. I may have made that image up. I’ve found similar colors in my pursuit of this one, but none quite like it. I think that’s what makes the Hanna Barbera collection even more special to me. I remembered every detail. Granted, watching those cartoons day in and day out, the odds were in Hanna Barbera’s favor.

But course, in my grandmother’s Italian household, we had to have Strega Nona. It cracks me up to write this because when I read this prompt of bedtime stories I knew my immediate top three choices, yet I barely remember any detail. I always remembered Strega Nona as the Italian Grandma of the village singing songs and making spaghetti for everyone to eat. Beautiful! That was my Wednesday night every week, are you kidding me?! I love it! As I got older, I started to dive into these roots of mine as I explore the world of mysticism. I started learning how Tarot – something I’ve done for almost a decade – actually has Italian roots. I learned about the folklore of the necklace I wore as a child. And on this deep dive, I learned some “new” words. It took an embarrassing amount of time for me to realize Strega just means witch in Italian. Yes, the annoyingly Italian American witchy one didn’t know what a strega was. Amazing. In a way, I’m not surprised. In a sense, my child witch’s mind sort of assimilated to the idea of who she was, and that was just another nona. Maybe they’re all stregas. Either way, the questions of my research suddenly had every answer. Who knew? Apparently, everyone but me! A kitchen witch in my own way and as it turns out, it’s just how I was raised and what I was raised on. I brought it up to my cousin after this revelation, you know:

“Did you know Strega means witch in Italian!?”

“Are you kidding me? That’s what the whole book is about. She’s a witch and she makes pasta. What did you think Strega Nona meant?”

Honestly no idea, but I’m pretty please with how it all turned out. Sono la stregan d’arte piu stupidia!