Author Archives: Andy

A striking moment of clarity

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I was ironing.  Having been away so much, there are many things to do including the small mountain of ironing.  I hate ironing almost as much as cleaning.  Let’s face it, I am not really domesticated.  The dogs are probably better than me.  I am doing a bit at a time since to do all of it in one go will just be too much!

However, ironing must be done if I am to have any clean stuff to wear and, in this weather (yesterday, when I got in the car after work the temperature read 43 degrees, so it’s quite warm), it is necessary to wear a lot of clean stuff after a lot of showers.

I have the telly on (MTV as we get it free here) but, really, I am paying no attention to either the telly nor the ironing.  The ironing is automatic and the telly plays music that I, generally, don’t really like.

As normal, I am playing through conversations in my head as I have nothing else to distract me, really.  Of course, the conversations were not conversations that had actually happened but rather ones that may happen but, if I’m honest with myself, won’t happen and, anyway, if they did happen, the other person wouldn’t say the things that I had predetermined they would say so my replies would not be so certain and, most probably, I wouldn’t be so sharp or so clever.

The basic nature of the conversations is this:

V wants to get back together.

V says he’s sorry.

I say (without completely closing it down) that that will be very difficult.

I say that he needs to be honest and open with me.

I say that to do that, he first needs to be honest and open with himself.

V asks what things he needs to be honest and open about.

I say that that is the point.  I cannot tell him, although I know some things, but that, to be honest and open, he has to decide to tell me everything and I will know if he has.

This is a stupid conversation as this will never happen.

Suddenly (and I really don’t know why this happened), I think of another situation.  I think of my parents who, apparently, are or, at least were, waiting for me to ‘come home’ asking for their forgiveness (for what, I really don’t know).  I think how stupid they were and little they knew me, even if I was their son and even if they did raise me for almost 18 years before I left, for good.

And then, I realised, in one of those moments of complete clarity that, in spite of my efforts not to be like them, I was, in fact, doing the same thing.  I was waiting for V to come to his senses and come back begging to be together.

And, then I realised that, of course, he is not coming back – begging or not – and that my life has been in this limbo state, waiting for him to appear on my doorstep whereas, in fact, he has already moved on and, damn it, so should I.

It won’t be the last time that I will enact these meaningless conversations and, for certain, I am catching myself wanting a man again, which makes me vulnerable but I know that, as these future enacted, made-up, incredible conversations happen, I will be able to stop it following this ‘moment of clarity’ by remembering that, in fact, the situation is not going to happen.  It will get easier each time.

The wanting a man part, though, will not.  At least, not for a while.  The problem with that, other than my previous track record in this situation, is that, this time, a) I really find so few men attractive and b) how the hell do I tell whether they’re gay or not, at least here, in this land where men don’t seem to have a problem with their sexuality and, therefore, have no need to be give off the right signals?  Or, rather, give off signals that I find perplexing and unclear.

And the point of this post?  None at all really!

Dog sitting, Flat sitting and watching Wimbledon

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Dog_sitting_Flat_sitting_and_watching_Wimbledon442 pub. Apparently, looking after the dogs will cost me a pint of English beer and a burger. Less than kennels anyway.

On the subject of Wimbledon, let’s hope the great Scottish player, Murray, will make it through. It will make the afternoon so much more fun.

Also a colleague from work and her husband may come. So it might be quite a party (and quite a few good beers!).

A funny thing happened…..

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It was the funniest article I have read for a while. And from a government minister too!

The comments are obviously, mostly, from those right-wing types (snigger). One can tell as they seems to despise the arguments for ID Cards.

But we do need to consider what has been said and, according to this article, still being said.

I remember that ID cards were first touted by Labour (or NuLabour as they are now called by most, if not themselves). It was either soon after 9/11 or maybe 7/7. We were all so shocked about these ‘foreign’ people who were able to come into our lands and do such damage.

Except…..

In the case of 7/7, they were British citizens and, therefore, had ID cards already been ‘normal’, they would have them quite legally. And, I’m sorry, but that would have stopped them carrying out those atrocities in what way, exactly?

In addition, Italy, which has had ID cards from the Fascist era (or thereabouts) wasn’t saved when the Red Brigade start blowing things up here!

Aha, so, if Joe Public won’t fall for that one then we can go for another great public fear. What about all those illegal immigrant people.

Now, the fact that they are illegal implies that the majority of them got here either by sidestepping our Border Control or by over-staying their welcome. Now, if you were required to use your ID Card every day for many minor things (as Italians are), this could pose a problem. Or, of course, not. Since the illegal immigrants will probably be a) working for cash and b) not doing things that require an ID card (like paying by credit card, etc.), it seems unlikely that it would cause them too much distress.

Alternatively, having probably paid a small fortune to be brought here, I’m sure, for a few pounds more, there would be people making the ID card to order, for them. And, unless the Police or other powers-that-be check the database, the fraudulent ID cards would probably never be found.

Having worked out that most people realised that ID cards would, in fact, only be useful for controlling legal immigrants or citizens, it seems they are trying the latest scare tactic.

Identity Theft/Fraud! That’s what is now proposed as the reason for ID cards. I’m sorry but these people are crazy.

If you really want to step up security then do what the Italians do. Make it really difficult to buy anything (such as domain name (where you need to fax proof of yourself and owning a domain name via just the internet is just not possible); buying a second-hand car (where you need to physically visit the registration office); changing your bank account for your mobile phone (where you must go and get a form from the bank which must be stamped and signed and then take that (or, maybe, fax it) to the provider). In each case, everything must be ‘backed-up’ by a personal visit or a fax! Of course, in this fast-moving world, it does tend to make many things a lot slower and more difficult but, at least, it gives a load of people a job, thereby ensuring that unemployment is lower and the economy is much better. Doesn’t it?

And then, the article uses unsubstantiated claims of the number of people hit by identity theft/fraud; assumes that the arguments in favour of ID cards have been made and done and dusted and that, overwhelmingly, the ‘evidence’ points to them as being our saviour in all things!

A funny thing has happened in this world, don’t you think?  If one argument fails, use another.  If that fails, use yet another.  Keep going until people agree or forget what the purpose was in any event.  Make sure that each argument used is totally different from the last but make sure that each addresses a fear that the populace has!

I actually laughed out loud at this article.

p.s. Read the comments as well.

A couple of nights in Milan, anyone? Only a couple of strings attached!

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I have to go away to another Northern country.  I really didn’t come to Italy to be travelling outside all the time (OK, it’s not true but right now that’s how it feels).

V moves out on Saturday.  This is good – but, of course, it does mean that there is no one to take the boys whilst I am away!  Damn!

I immediately thought of the kennels.  I rang the shop to see what time they open.  10.30 a.m.  Hmm, no way to make Malpensa airport in about 5 minutes so no good at all.

V did offer to have the key to the flat but I’m really not keen on letting him have the run of the place.  It’s my place and I want it to stay that way.  If he comes here (without me being here) then, somehow, that makes it different – at least, in my head!

FfI offered the other day, so I might try her, tomorrow. Else there are a couple of other people or I could get someone to take them to the kennels on Monday night and I pick them up Wednesday morning.

Or, of course, you could come and stay here.  Near the heart of downtown Milan.  Beautiful (if unfinished) flat in a wonderful street!  Sounds tempting, eh?

The strings are a) you have to look after the dogs and b) you must be here by about 8 a.m. on Monday morning!

I’m waiting………(hopefully)……….

The crazy, criminal, mixed-up land in which I live

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I stayed away from the recent controversy with the Italian’s ‘beloved’ leader (and he’s still beloved, it would seem, at least by most). He seems to have been a very busy boy, what with giving money to (ex-?) husbands of UK politicians (not that giving the money was bribing, it was only taking it that seems to be a crime); dalliances with a young girl that his wife, for some reason, took exception to; using government money to have people fly to parties at his residence on Sardinia and, of course, the latest, the payment for young ladies of the night for services rendered – all of which, he denies, blaming all of these “rumours” on those ‘left-wing-communist types’.

We can also, perhaps, overlook the way that he said that the people from L’Aquila, made homeless by the earthquake, should make the most of living in tents, it being just like a holiday and all!

At least he made up for it by agreeing to huge (can’t remember how much and can’t be bothered to look it up) amounts of dosh to rebuild the town (although it seems it may not be quite as was first reported) and, of course, deciding to hold the G8 summit in the town in order that it gets a boost.

Now, I read about the latest development (see, still reading the Guardian rather than using the BBC site) and the President’s call to back off Berlusconi’s (ahem) ‘problems‘ so as not to embarrass Italy when, about half way down, I read this:

the prime minister assured the media that his illustrious guests would nevertheless be received in style at a large revenue guard barracks hastily converted for the occasion. He said the site would soon have 121,000 square metres of gardens with 6,850 bushes and extensive lawns.

Now, given the current economic crisis in the world and the recent death and destruction in the town in which this converted barracks is situated and in spite of not knowing how much will be spent doing this conversion (but I’m guessing not just a few Euro), etc., it struck me that this kind of thing is just crass and obscene in the extreme.

This puts those politicians (from the G8) on the same par with Madoff and (possibly) Stanford – i.e. criminals who are taking us for a ride – since they are benefiting from the outrageous spending that is being done just to show off to each other!

It’s a crazy, crazy world in which we live.

The sun shouldn’t be the only one with his hat on!

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For my friends in the UK, I see you’re in the middle of an “official” heatwave. How nice that must be although I suspect there are lot of people complaining that it is too hot. And there seems to be a consensus that people will die or that hospitals should be prepared for an influx of people suffering from heatstroke!

And the temperatures causing this panic and fear? Why, up to 33 degrees!! Wow! We get to that (or close to it) most days at the moment.

However, to be fair, there is a difference, as I have said before.

Now, here, I look for the shade most of the time. When I was in the UK, such is the rarity of such sunny days, people (and I was one of them) would prefer to stay in the sun, however hot or uncomfortable it was.

I still get brown, of course. But, then, I tan very easily. I can assure you it is not because I sunbathe (since I find that boring) nor because I stay out in the sun (which, at over 30 degrees is ridiculous, unless you are forced to) it is just the ‘bits in between’ the shade that cause this.

So, the trick is to stay in the shade and not expect this to be the last sunny day ever. Anyway, with what used to be called Global Warming (now Climate Change – otherwise people don’t understand why the winters are longer, colder and wetter), there’s likely to be plenty more of it…….

And, whilst we’re on the subject of lethargy…..

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Sometimes (sh)it just happens!

So, I go to the shop last night and get the adapter I need. I get home and try it out. Boy, that Dyson has some sucking power! I clean the kitchen and the hallway and then, because it’s so hot, I have a drink and answer some emails. This not being Sweden, it is getting dark.

I decide to iron some shirts. Unfortunately the light in the lounge isn’t working. At first, I think it is the timer that’s a problem but, even plugged in (almost) directly, the lamp doesn’t work.

I try the lamp in a different socket. No good.

I try the bulb in a different lamp.

It’s the bulb. In a different time and a different place (namely, with V) I would have become frustrated and slightly angry with the injustice of all things that seem to conspire against me trying to keep the flat clean and tidy (which, in any case, is not working) but the time and place is different and I shrug my shoulders.

Although I remain disappointed, I know that there is no point in fighting such things. What is, is. I cannot, at this moment, do anything about it. The process to change bulbs, leaving some other area of the flat in darkness is just too difficult.

Of course, I should get off my ass and get some more lamps; get the lights that need fitting, fitted; do SOMETHING!

My lethargy in all things (except the dogs, eating and drinking) is really starting to annoy me and yet everything else WILL wait until tomorrow, let’s be honest.

And this includes the ironing, whilst I get a bulb (they are bayonet types since this is an Art Deco lamp from the UK and bayonet bulbs are simply not sold here in the usual shops) but, even then, tonight I am going to sort out the start of the ‘other’ work that really must move on.

Ho hum.

I wonder…….?

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I’m not sure what it says about me (and I CERTAINLY don’t mean the picture which is a random one anyway) or if, indeed, this post is worth the bother of writing but, anyway, here goes….

I cannot remember when it started or, even, why but, from a very early age I had this desire to live outside the UK.

For some reason, Sweden was the place I wanted to go (and this was before Abba even sang about Waterloo, maybe, probably, before Waterloo had ever been thought of). In particular, I wanted to live in Stockholm.

For many, many years, it was understood, by me, in my inner brain, that I would, someday, be living there.

Instead, I came to Milan and never went anywhere near Sweden until after I came here. And now, finally, I have been there.

I was not disappointed. It is a beautiful place, the weather was superb; the food wonderful; the modernity, outside the old part of Stockholm, well, modern; the people were nice and friendly (although nowhere near as attractive as one would imagine – think Benny and Bjorn rather then Agnetha and Anni-Frid – all-in-all as good as one could expect.

Of course, the sunshine and warmth puts the whole thing in a good light and the reality is that, for most of the year the weather would probably be worse, or at least as bad, as the UK.

But, I wonder, how would my life be now if I had gone to that place that I dreamed of being in for so many years……?

My trip to the Northern Lands

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Unexpectedly (even for them) the weather was gorgeous – even better than Milan and less humid.

We even got chance to wander about the capital city and, being as it was so much further north, we marvelled at the daylight extending into the night (although I didn’t marvel at the bloody dawn starting so much earlier).

This picture is of, what we think was, the Cathedral.  My picture doesn’t do it justice but the tower of wrought iron (I guess) was quite fabulous.

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We ate in a restaurant called Mårten Trotzig where I had fish roe with a wonderful slice of warm cheese pie to start and followed that with Reindeer with a sauce which, to me, was really like a redcurrant sauce.  It was really good food and well cooked.  A delight.

A nice red wine would have been perfect but I was with one colleague and one of the customer’s representatives – so we had beer.  Don’t get me wrong, I love beer and I like to taste different ones but, when I’m having a meal (unless it’s a pizza) there’s nothing to beat a glass (or bottle or two) of good wine.

The price, though, was astronomical.  For the same money I could have eaten in one of the better restaurants in Milan and had wine, water and more food.  Still, I won’t be unhappy to go back there again, if I have to.  Of course, the weather is not normally better than Milan!  However, next time, for certain, I will get a hotel in the centre, preferring to travel to the customer rather than be on the customer’s doorstep but having to travel into the city.

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I don’t know what this building was but it was taken a few minutes after the other one – it was after 10 p.m.!  It should be noted that my phone (see post below) is not really that good for pictures and they seem a little dark.  It was not as dark in real life as it seems in the photos, sorry.

Making a new purchase is difficult

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I’m not really what you would call “a shopper”.  In spite of V’s 20 years of trying to make me one.  And now that I don’t have him to “force” me to do so, I find that putting off making that purchase suits me just fine.

So, I really could do with some new shirts and there’s a shop just down the road with shirts for €10 so there’s no excuse, really.  But still, when I pass, which I do often, there’s always a good reason why “this moment” is not the right time.

The same is true of the table that I really want but just can’t be bothered to get in the car and drive to get, which is annoying, even to me and yet, not annoying enough that I actually do something about it.

However, if I need to shop or are in a situation where I am with others who are shopping, purchasing can be quite easy.

Food shopping I do actually enjoy.  Not going to the supermarket, exactly (but even that is quite nice if I have a recipe/meal in mind) but looking round interesting food shops (which I have been doing some of whilst abroad, recently).

And when I was getting my passport renewed, we were stuck for some hours in a town and I managed to pick up a couple of very nice T-Shirts for a very reasonable price.  For clothes shopping, the way that works is I walk into the shop, take a quick glance at the rails I can see and quickly determine if there’s likely to be any chance of finding something I will like.

I go to the rail and quickly flick through the things and only if there is something slightly unusual or interesting do I bother to even pull it out.  Then, if I can’t find my size within milliseconds I find an assistant who can do all the looking for me.

So, as you can imagine, finding something more “technical” quite fills me with dread.  Although I seriously need a new computer, I just cannot go looking.  The same with a new mobile phone.  You see, the problem is that there is too much choice and you can’t tell what you want just by “browsing” through a store.

However, I thought that getting a new vacuum cleaner would be a bit of a breeze.  Although I had put it off for about 2 months, I decided, yesterday, that I really had to do it as I cannot beat out the big rug – it’s just too big to go over the balcony and I was finding it difficult to clean.

I knew what I wanted.  A Dyson.  Now there’s a simple thing, I thought.  I go to the shop in Corso Buenos Aires that I know.  As I get to the right area I see an array of vacuum cleaners.  Not a good sign.  I find a few Dysons.  Actually, a few too many!  There’s one for allergies, one that says “Origin” (meaning original?) and a few others.  They are expensive so I briefly toy with the idea of a Hoover or similar equivalent but remember that the Dyson is definitely better.

I pick one as if sticking a pin in a map and deciding where to go.  It’s the Origin.  Not the most expensive but would seem to be the right one.

The one on display is the last one they have.  I ask for a discount.  They won’t give me enough and so I leave.  I decide to go to the other shop of theirs that is between Piazza Oberdan and Piazza Repubblica.  I can get the same one there that hasn’t been on display.

I go to the right areas for vacuums.  Here they have even more choice of Dysons!  There’s even one for Pet Hair!  Who would know that you could have a cleaner that was specifically designed to get all the pet hair up?  However, that one costs almost €200 more than the normal ones.  Although I may need it, I am not paying so much extra.  But there were at least another 4 different types!  Why?  Too much choice in this sort of thing just makes me want to walk away.

Anyway I plump for the one that I think will suit.  The girl has a good time (not) searching for one that has the correct tool for both hard floors and rugs but, eventually, finds one. I pay and catch the tram back home, grateful, in fact, that the tram stop is right outside and that I didn’t have to lug one from their other shop.

I put it together at home but didn’t actually try it as I am feeling so tired following my recent trips.

I decide to hoover up this morning.

I try to find a socket or adapter that will take the plug.  None do.  My flat is old and uses a special (old) type of socket that requires special adapters to permit normal plugs of today to fit. However, I was surprised that none of the adapters would work. Damn!

So now I will be back to the shop on Monday to find (hopefully) an adapter that works.  The cleaning will wait.