Breaking News ……..

Sorry for this post being so close to the last one but I’ve just heard …….. it seems as if we shall be moving. The offer has been accepted and so, in about 2 months or so, we shall be living together, in a new (old) flat.

How exciting!

How frightening!

So now, things to do.

1. Get my clocks repaired.
2. Get the sofas and chair recovered.
3. Sort out movers.
4. Throw away lots and lots of rubbish.
5. Get rugs cleaned professionally.
6. Get new kitchen.
7. Allow F to take over my life and the way I live and not complain about it.

OK, so I might fight the last one but I am concerned that it’s what will happen. Oh well, I’m sure it will be fine. And the timing for this couldn’t be better. I have the money to do all this (or will have in the next few days), so it’s just a matter of buckling down to it all. Fun days ahead then. Wish me luck!

Awry!

You know how sometimes, everything seems to go a bit awry?

Well that’s how it is. I mean, it’s nothing major or really important, just little things that are annoying and involve trips to shops and buying some stuff.

So, it started last night. I got home from work and had to take the dogs out quickly and I noticed that my ultra-cheap shoes seemed a bit funny. Sure enough, the sole was coming apart. Of course, these are ultra-cheap and, so, don’t last. But, my thinking is that, if they last even 6 months, it’s still worth it. This is because I wear them to work and, somehow, all the shoes I wear to work quickly become tatty looking. Rather than spend a fortune on decent shoes, it seems better to spend next to nothing and throw them away once something goes wrong. In fact, even when a lace breaks, I’m almost inclined to bin them :-)

Anyway, this means going to buy new ultra-cheap shoes.

Then, I noticed my watch had stopped working. It needs a new battery is all – but that means I’ve got to find somewhere to get it done. Last time, the jewellers I went to wouldn’t do it and I ended up getting it done in Hereford Butter Market – so now I have to find a different jewellers here, in Milan.

Obviously, I checked my other watches and found about half of them needed new batteries.

See, I told you they were little things. It means Saturday will be busy. And, as my next post will show, there are a million and one other things to do too!

Plastic People

I am way, way over my head here.

And how different this was from the previous night!

I am introduced to various people, only one of whom I will remember – and that’s because we’re going to his wife’s shop (or, rather ex-shop) soon.

Eventually Si and I go to get a glass of prosecco and I manage to grab a small chocolate sweet from one of the waiters passing by who, until now have passed close to me but not close enough for me to grab anything and, anyway, seem to be moving through the room at something close to the speed of light. Most of the time, the ones that get close enough are carrying empty plates back.

The people around me speak mostly Italian and far too fast for me to understand. The men are dressed in suits with ties (no jeans) and the women have on their finest designer outfits and are all “beautiful” and “thin”.

This may be Design Week but one could be excused for confusing this with Fashion Week.

Si had only texted me when she had arrived at the shop (or, as we should now call them, Flagship Store.) Initially, I thought I’d say “no”. I was already tired from the night before but then I thought that I never really do these things and that I really should. What’s the point in living here if I don’t experience the “high life” once in a while. So I had rushed to change and to get there and I was now hot and bothered. She is dressed with a pink theme but doesn’t look out of place. I feel out of place since I have jeans, a casual white shirt (a little unusual – as is my wont) and a “suit-type” jacket.

After a little while we go to our next place. Si’s colleague, M’s wife used to own one of the most famous jewellers in Milan (apparently since I had never heard of them). We walk to the shop. On the way, in Via Montenapoleone (one of the main fashion streets in Milan), we pass their other shop. M goes over to say hello to someone there and then beckons us over. Apparently we should be going to this shop and not the other one. This shop, though, is not their historical main store but, rather, one that is exclusively for Rolex watches. In fact, I learn, this was the very first Rolex Flagship store in the world.

The party is in full swing. As for most places, there are people on the door checking if you are “on the list”. If you’re not “on the list” or know someone inside, you won’t get in. Of course, we are with the husband of the ex-owner (her cousin now owns it but she goes because it’s expected as she can meet and greet some of the long-term clients that will be there), so we get in.

Si seems very pleased with all this. She works in Marketing for a Luxury Brand (but not fashion) so there could be a tie-in.

Here the clientèle at the party are richer than the previous party. The men are not all in suites but, then, the crowd is older. I say older and that’s not entirely true. The men are older, some of the women are older but some are there because they’re not. However, there is so much plastic in the room – most women seem to have been under the knife, some with disastrous results (in my opinion.) There was fur; there were jewels; there was plastic – everywhere.

The shop is not that big but opulent would be a good word to use. The carpet thick, the wood special and lots of it and, of course, the watches. Now, personally, I really don’t like Rolex as a watch. Too much – I prefer simple watches – simple faces, preferably white or blue – even if mine are quite expensive (not as much as a Rolex though.)

The food was fantastic. They did little burgers that were so tasty (and, obviously NOT McDonald’s) and some proper Risotto Milanese. Si knew the chef (I’m not sure how she found that out) who is quite famous here, apparently and has a restaurant near Bergamo. Anyway, she mentioned something to one of the waiters and the next thing was that the chef came out to say hello to her – and me – and bearing another tray of the delightful mini burgers (just a mouthful each time – I had about 5!)

The shop had a “vertical” garden at the back, a roof terrace on the top floor and, on the same floor, a very large balcony that overlooked via Montenapoleone. Quite stunning.

It was all very nice but, to be honest, I preferred the previous night. There weren’t any real “designers” at these parties, just people who were to be “seen”.

I wasn’t way over my head because of the people so much as the fact that I don’t have the “culture” knowledge that they do. I mean, I know stuff but when people mention this designer or that artist, quite often I don’t have a clue who they are. Mostly I say I don’t know them. Sometimes, just because otherwise it gets boring, I say “Oh really?” – thank God they don’t ask too many questions.

Although, obviously, these people, especially at the Rolex shop, do move in a different world from me.

Still, it was all very nice and I’m glad I went but I did prefer the previous night where I got to meet “real” people rather than “plastic” people.

Design Week – the parties, the exhibitions, the fun of it all.

The weather is quite nice now. Not really hot but warm and then, in the evening, pleasant – but you need a light jacket or coat.

That was certainly one reason why, when I arrived, the place was heaving. In fact, I’ve never seen it so full.

Obviously, I know a lot of people now so it took us a while to get to a place to grab a drink. At the start, S hung on my coat tails but, after a while she relaxed.

The shop looked great and F had done a really good job although people would “touch” things and move them out of place and that irritates F. There were four stunningly nice chairs onn hooks on the large wall they have and on one of the bottom chairs, F had placed a bird (it was a theme). Some guy who looked like he had come straight from a Harry Potter film set as one of the teachers of the school – long, slightly crazy white hair, beard and glasses – had just reached up to the bird and dislodged it. We watched him as he tried to put it back on the chair. He couldn’t. He laid it on the chair and, with F seething, we watched him look around, trying to work out if someone had noticed. He looked and, almost certainly felt, very guilty.

We eventually got a drink from a roving waiter and picked up food as it came round. S was introduce to everyone that I talked to.

F told her she looked very elegant, as he does to almost all females. So, even today, all I am hearing is F said this; F said that!

Anyway, she loved it. She felt more special, I know. I remember when I used to feel like this all those years ago (before F). Now, I’m just interested in finding really nice people that I can become friends with. Not because I’m looking for friends, you understand, just because it’s nice meeting new people who are intelligent, funny, experienced and, with any luck, have something really interesting about them. Still, all the people that S met were, so she said, very nice. Of course, F was the best and she kept on about his trousers and how I should get some the same which, of course, I won’t, since I don’t really do trousers unless they are part of a suit!

We wandered about and chatted with all these people. Colleagues of F, friends of ours who came, other people that I know that are friends of F’s or his colleagues or used-to-be colleagues. Even our (my) old neighbour came.

At 8, people were still trying to get in and soon after they stopped people because they started to clean up. Si had arrived late and she and I stood outside; waiting for F who was polishing all the glass table and cabinet tops and resetting everything that had been touched and moved, ready for today. S left as she had her daughter to collect. But you could tell that she really wanted to come with us.

Then, we walked down to Via Tortona and a street that ran parallel. There were crowds and crowds of people and, as we commented later, it’s a nicer crowd during Design Week, more relaxed than during Fashion Week. Obviously, there were the people with the strange idea about dress – a little bit quirky or downright weird. But it is more casual, in general.

We met up with F’s best colleagues and visited some places that were open (most were open) including the studio of L’s sister, B who is very, very nice.

Everyone is “wowing” about the designs she does. I’m agreeing but inwardly thinking “Well, this is OK but I wouldn’t have it in my house”. But, of course, you can’t say that.

We did meet a 50-something dancer who has a one-room flat in London, speaks very good English and has just opened a dance studio here in Milan. She might also design jewellery. She might have been quite interesting to get to know but it was late and I was tired and we were about to go to Bar §Basso. I’m sure that I’ll meet her again – if it’s meant to be.

And then a taxi to Bar Basso. Si, who is more like F’s age, seemed genuinely “excited” about the whole thing and the atmosphere at Bar Basso because it was “very International”.

Then we went home.

Also, the people who own the potential new flat are very interested in us taking the flat but want us to come closer to the asking price.

We go this evening to update our offer :-)

Staying with you -v- going out with my friends

He doesn’t say much.

I mean he talks A LOT, but doesn’t say much in the way of “lurve”. No “I love you”s or “I miss you”s or stuff like that.

So, you have to take what you can.

Last night we were out doing some of the Design Week Fringe events and we ended up at Bar Basso with this rather lovely lady, Si. We got our drinks and were standing outside drinking and having a cigarette amongst the crowds and crowds of people, many foreigners who come for Design Week.

F likes to get the cocktails in great big glasses, which they do there and is one of their trademarks. Then there were these people from somewhere “abroad”, staring at our drinks whilst they were drinking the same drinks in very small glasses and chatting amongst themselves about the drinks, probably thinking they were some special drink and, of course, they’re in Milan so everything is exotic.

Anyway, F was saying to Si that he could go out every night with his friends, staying out with them but that he “prefer to stay with Andy”. That’s about as close as I get to an “I love you”.

Later, when we were at home, I said that it was one of the nicest things he had ever said.

He doesn’t take praise well and so the reply was “Well, it’s true”, which I guessed anyway.

Still, it was a lovely and unexpected thing.

How excited are we?

Well, it seems, very excited.

Bordering on hysterical.

Now, when I say “we”, I don’t actually mean “we” as in F & me. I mean my colleague, S.

She is a bit “snobby”. Not in a horrible way, of course, but she does like to think of herself as better than she is. More elegant, more beautiful, etc. I find it funny, to be honest.

Anyway, it’s the Furniture Fair in Milan this week and F’s shop has a display of some furniture, the fabric for which was designed by the designer (of the clothes, obviously). And there is a kind of small “party” which is really just an aperitivo, tonight. I am going, of course and, as F requested, invited certain people (it means that the shop will be full and that’s always good). There will be prosecco and the event is catered with some very nice “finger food” and there are waiters mingling to hand out this finger food. I go because F wants me to go and he can introduce me to English people and I can talk to them, which he likes.

Anyway, amongst the people I invited was S, my colleague. I knew she would like to be invited and half expected her to say no but, instead, she said yes. What the hell, I thought. She almost certainly knows of the existence of F (being quite good friends with some people that know of F here, at work) and I’m sure she is being just slightly nosy. But, in addition, it is a party with, for her, the glamour of Milan fashion and, so, something to be seen at.

However, I wasn’t expecting the reaction we have so far – she is wearing something but has bought a dress to change in to if I thought what she was wearing wasn’t good enough!

As I’ve tried to explain, this is just a small party in the shop. It’s not really something you have to wear a cocktail dress or evening gown to. It starts at 6.30 and will be all over by 8!

However, she is VERY excited. and a little bit apprehensive, which surprises me.

So, we shall see. The “tension” will be mounting throughout the day. Probably.

Planning

It’s sort of forward planning.

You may remember, dear reader, my horror last summer at running out of books and my subsequent purchase of a Sony eReader to make sure it would never happen again?

Well, of course, being the old codger that I am, the eReader is fine – for emergencies. I really prefer a “real” book – the feel of the pages, the smell of the book, the never running out of battery, etc., etc.

Last year, if I remember rightly, I had somewhere around 9 books for 3 weeks and reckoned that, even at a rate of 2 books per week, I’d be fine. In fact, I ran out of books by the end of the second week.

And, although I now have my emergency backup eReader, I don’t want to be running out like last year.

And, the other day, I was reading something on Twitter from one of the people I follow and they were plugging their book as it has just been released in paperback. Which made me look at my “bookshop” (I use Bookstore, in the UK. Amongst the very nice things about this company is the fact that I have my “list” of books saved and I pick out the ones that I want to buy.

Now, I use this company as it is a truly independent book shop. It’s not part of the Amazon mega-corporation. OK, so I pay a little more than I would at Amazon but the service I get is superb. If I want any type of book I can ask. If I want to change my order before it is shipped, I ask. They are always very nice and responsive and you feel you are dealing with a human being rather than some computer (see, I told you I was an old codger).

Anyway, so really, as a response to this Twitter post about the paperback being out, I thought I might as well get it. I went onto the site and found it and, whilst I was there, checked the books I had put in “waiting” and decided to order some.

So, when the order arrives, I will have another load of books to add to ones I had already bought at the end of last year.

I’ve still got some way to go but I shall probably buy some of those books on the shortlist of the Bailey’s Prize this year.

In any event, I am excited about receiving my parcel of books in the next week or so :-)

Another night.

Of course, I could be dreaming.

Except I know I’m not.

“Dino”

“Blood”

“Vets”

“Tomorrow”

“Look”

There’s panic. I’m used to this panic. It’s not the first time. At first I thought he used the Italian word for tick. As I wake enough to move, I grunt something. I don’t know what time this is but, in any case, I was asleep. Deep, deep sleep but, quite obviously, not deep enough. And anyway, him being Italian, the well-being of others is not always foremost.

Except, of course, Dino. That is foremost and the worry that occurs when he thinks something isn’t good is incredible.

I try to move. My back still hurts. The “belt thing” I’m wearing is hot on my back but, although it’s quite pleasant, it hasn’t cured the pain …….. yet.

I get up slowly, cursing him in my head. I’m not really awake, to be honest.

Dino is lying on the bed. He is hunched over Dino.

Dino has been licking his paw and that is where I am to look.

There is something red on one of the pads of his paw. But, although it’s red, it’s shiny (but not in a “wet” way like it would be if it was blood) and it seems to have flecks of silver or something. I touch it and it’s not wet. It can’t be blood. I scrape at the edge. It seems to be something stuck to the pad – a little like chewing gum.

My eyes can hardly stay open. I wonder why he hasn’t tried this. But, of course, that’s not fair. He hasn’t owned dogs. He doesn’t really know. He has no experience. Still, it’s very dark o’clock and I was very asleep although less so now. I want to say “for fuck’s sake ….” but I don’t. I don’t complain about being woken up.

I tell him that it’s just something stuck to Dino’s paw. He can see it now, I think. I haven’t taken it off, I’m too tired and can’t be bothered. I get back into bed.

He apologises and I reply with “It’s OK”, even if it’s really not OK.

I am already lying down. I wish he’d turn the bloody light off. But, of course, he is determined to get this “thing” off the paw. And so he does.

Then he turns the light off and tells me that he’s going for a cigarette. I mumble “OK”. after he turns the light off, I look at the digital light on the ceiling that tells me it is something like 12.30 (but I’m not too sure since my eyes are not really working.)

I go to sleep. Another night of disturbed sleep then.

Move along, please. Nothing to see here.

Shhhhhhh!

It’s only a thought and not at all definite but ……………..

We went to see a flat last night. F had already seen it whilst I was at The Visit and was taken enough with it that he arranged for us to see it together, after work.

Of course, now that the clocks have gone forward, it is light when I get home and so possible to see things straight away rather than waiting until Saturday. It’s not far from the “Perfect street”, so very close to where I live now. The street is much quieter. The flat is much larger than our two flats together. The rooms are huge (well, not the kitchen but still big enough to fit a table) and there is the room for me to shut myself away (if we fit some doors to it – for some reason, apart from one bedroom, the bathrooms and the kitchen, doors have been removed!)

It needs us to fit a kitchen (a fairly normal thing here). We could find some old doors to put on my “studio”. It’s lovely and big and very light (F’s requirement) and has four balconies of various sizes (from quite small to quite large) – meaning plenty of spaces for the dogs.

It’s in a 1930s building – not the best I’ve seen but still nicer than something new. There’s a doorman/woman until 6.30 every evening (which means I don’t have to wait for parcels until Saturday) and, it will be cheaper than our two flats.

There’s just one thing – it’s on the 4th floor. The 4th floor is OK (it’s at the top of the trees in the road which is why it’s quite light) but it’s also a long way down when you look over the edge of the balconies.

Anyway, we’ve discussed pricing and offers and stuff and now F will do his stuff.

Oh, and it has another advantage – 3 months’ deposit but only 1 month’s rent in advance and then pay monthly – which does make everything much, much easier.

And, so we’ll see. But don’t say anything, just in case, eh?

The Visit

It was like attending a very important job interview.

My hands were sweating and it was difficult to concentrate on anything much.

I arrived at least 10 minutes early, as you do. At first, the receptionist thought that I was trying to make an appointment but when she gave me some date in the future, I realised. I couldn’t even really understand her – my little Italian had deserted me somewhere in my mashed-up brain.

The seats in the waiting room were the usual plastic chairs, arranged around the walls, a single coffee table in the centre of the room with some reading stuff which I didn’t read. The receptionist informed me that she wasn’t here yet. Hmmm.

I tried to play a game on my phone but I just couldn’t concentrate. About on time, she arrived and I was told to go in.

Of course, on principle, I don’t ask “permesso”, since I had made the appointment and so she was expecting me and had been informed that I was there and had already asked the receptionist to show me through. So, why ask permission to enter? It never makes any sense to me. By all means, do it if you are not expected or have not been invited or have not already let someone in to your building (so you know they’re there.)

Anyway, she was really nice. Asking me questions that, most of the time, I didn’t know the answer to or had some idea but couldn’t be sure. But that was fine.

Then I asked my questions and, more or less everything was OK. I only asked about 3 questions, so not too harrowing for me.

However, as expected, there are more visits to come. Which is a pain.

And I was in a bit of pain but I didn’t let it show. I “did my back in a bit” when brushing Piero on Sunday. My own fault. Still, I didn’t want her to see I was in pain.

And, so, on to the next visit!

And I survived, which is good :-)