It is always a good moment to remember our ancestors. The close ones, naturally, because no matter how hard I try I cannot summon the memory of my grandparents, nor the great‑grands, nor the elders before them… I never met them. My three grandmothers—one of them a great‑aunt—were always impeccably behaved, devoutly Catholic, endowed with a natural elegance unembellished by refinements. Perhaps because of the times and the kind of life they were groomed for, they developed an exceptional talent for keeping their domestic skirmishes invisible.