Category Archives: Experiences

*Sigh* – Well that was nice.

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Wasn’t yesterday a beautiful day?

Well, OK, for those of you who don’t live in Milan, it may not have been. But here it was truly fantastic. The sun shone and it was too warm to wear a hat and scarf! Also, I had the windows of the flat open for most of the day.

Saturday night, we went to see the King’s Speech – in Italian. I loved it still. For me, Geoffrey Rush made the film. However, I really did feel that, in Italian, it lost something. The stuttering which, after all, is what the film is about, could not be portrayed in quite the same way since the words in Italian are different and so it wasn’t consistent – and it seemed, sometimes, that the stuttering was ignored – and, therefore, the real struggle with it did not come across properly.

Added to that, there is so much background history that the Italians don’t know. I mean, the speech, the subject of the film, is something that most British people will know about since it has been played many, many times.

And, although I’m not a royalist, it does give you some feeling for the Royals which I find hard to understand myself.

But go see it, even in Italian if you can’t see it in English.

F said that it shouldn’t have won ‘Best Film’ at the Oscars. He said it was nothing compared to ‘The lives of others’ – his favourite film. I tried to point out that the film he loves was a number of years ago and you could always say that about your favourite film. But I think he was just saying it for effect.

And then we went to Al Basilico Fresco, as it is very close to the cinema and where I had a pizza that was fantastic – smoked bacon with parmesan and fresh tomatoes. It was really one of the very best I’ve had for a long time. Maybe I should rate the place higher. The only problem with it is that it gets really full and there is little space between the tables. But, still, very nice.

Yesterday, because the weather was really so nice, after going for breakfast with An, the three of us walked up Corso Buenos Aires for a bit, arriving home about 11 a.m. F had to iron and pack as he’s gone to Germany for the week. But later, he and I took the dogs out for an hour or so, which was lovely.

Unfortunately, it’s gone colder again this morning and cloudy. And the forecast for next weekend is rain and heavy rain. F doesn’t get back until Saturday evening. But that’s OK. I must do some things on Saturday (apart from sleep in). This is going to be a VERY busy week! Lessons every night and, for most nights, two lessons. Still it’s money towards the holiday.

Floating

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I can’t explain it at all.

I was out with A last night. You know, the ‘eating Mars Bars means your gay’ A. Luckily, he doesn’t get offended with what I write since he knows it’s mainly stuff in my head. Anyway, he wanted to know why I hadn’t bought a house/flat here.

I tried to explain that when I made the ‘life change’ of coming here, I decided that this included having a house/flat that I was buying. My life change was as mental as it was physical. I didn’t want to run my own company and I didn’t want a mortgage.

He said that things were different here. And he’s right, in a way. Job security is very high. So I could get a mortgage and know that I could pay it off without worrying about losing my job or anything. But that’s not really the point. I just didn’t want to be having a house/flat of my own. It’s not only the mortgage. It’s the problem of the permanence of it all. The ‘putting down roots’, etc. I just didn’t want that. I mean to say, I loved living in Herefordshire but, you know, the fixing of life – where you are, what you’re doing, etc? I didn’t want it anymore. I was, kind of, disappointed with it. I think because, by the end of the time in Herefordshire, I realised that none of anything was permanent – however much you think it is. It can all be taken away from you in a moment. And, if you’re ‘attached’ to something (house, place, job), when it all comes to an end, you cling on. And it’s the clinging on that really hurts. The letting it go is easy – or, rather, easier.

So I let go. I jumped off the cliff and found that although I couldn’t fly, exactly, I could sort of float. And floating is good. Floating is pleasant. Floating is gentle. Floating means you have the time and the inclination to look around, to enjoy the things you have without the feeling of pain that they might be taken away.

I like floating. I am grateful for the winds that drove me here and I like being here, in this place, at this time, with the people I like and love. And, if the winds take me somewhere else, then that’s fine too.

My goal is to be content. Like my grandfather. And I am content, most of the time. If I can reach the 100% contentment all the time then that will be perfect. 100% contentment doesn’t come with a house and mortgage, nor with a job (although it can help), nor through a person (although that can help too), nor with any one nor any thing.

Contentment comes from within.

Yes, I like floating.

Soon it will not be safe!

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Well here’s something that annoys me enough to write about. Hurrah! Sort of. If you see what I mean.

Marciapiede. That’s pavement (or sidewalk for Gail) to you. You know, the things on the side of the streets that, in theory, permit people to walk around without dodging cars. Kinda useful in reducing the deaths of people. Of course, a car going 100 mph and mounting a pavement is bound to cause a bit of damage, especially to any warm soft bodies in the way.

However, here, in Milan, that’s less likely to happen. I.e. you’re probably in less danger of getting run over, walking down the pavement here, than, say, in any other city in the UK! Although I have no actual figures to back it up. So I could be wrong. But it seems highly likely to me.

Now, why would that be, you ask. Or should be asking. Because if you’re not asking then this post is pointless. So ask then and I will disclose why.

OK. You’re probably safer from getting run over by a car here because ………………………

…………….. there are already a lot of cars on the pavement. Parked, of course.

I wouldn’t want to be pushing a pram around in Milan though. Then I would spend half my time on the road because, often, there is not enough room between the parked car and the building for me to pass with a push chair.

Not EVERY bit of pavement is taken up with a parked car. Sometimes they have barriers put up – to, erm, stop people parking their car!

But, then, these areas can be full too. Not of people. No, no, no. Full of mopeds and motorbikes. Obviously, a bike can get and park where a car cannot.

Or, if not, then pushbikes.

But, on the positive side, I don’t have a pushchair. I only have two dogs and I secretly pray, every time that we go past one of the ‘parked’ cars, that they will cock their legs. And they do sometimes and I am filled with glee.

Normally (in fact, always, in my experience) if you are walking past and a car wants to park (on the pavement, where you are walking), they will have the decency to wait until you have gone past.

However, my experience is that this is not so with mopeds and motorbikes. And I find that annoying. But it doesn’t happen very often.

What DOES happen, quite often, when I’m walking the dogs, is that a cyclist (pushbike) will be on the pavement and expect you to move out of their way.

Now, in the same way that I must learn some Italian phrases for when I see someone allowing their dog to defaecate on the pavement and then the owner not picking it up – which in English would equate to something like – You disgusting dirty person! Pick up your dog’s shit! – I should learn something like – This is called a marciapiede (meaning something like foot way) because it is for FEET and not WHEELS. The road is for WHEELS so stop dinging your bloody bell at me to get me to move and move yourself to the street, where you should be!

But I haven’t learnt that yet. And so, I was both shocked, outraged and immensely amused by this. It seems someone has been looking at other cities (like London for example, where cycling on the pavement can get you a hefty fine as it illegal) and decided that some of our pavements here are large enough to allow a cycle lane on them.

I snorted.

These people are completely crazy! Do they not realise that the cycle lane would simply become a ‘legitimate’ place for car parking. But then ALL the cyclists will think that, as their lane is taken up by the car park, they will have justified use of the pavement (or foot way) and so things will be worse than before!

(Actually, Pietro tells me that the cyclists on pavements can be fined. It’s just that here, I guess, the police and traffic wardens don’t know that fact).

Chainsaws in Milan.

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As I have probably mentioned before, I am a country lad at heart. OK, so less of the lad these days, unfortunately. Most of my life has been lived in the countryside and I truly adore the country living – although it is completely different from living in a city and you have to have a different mindset, for certain.

Quite often, when living in North-West Herefordshire, you would hear, in the distance, the sound of the chainsaw as they were cutting down some trees. That’s if the grackles weren’t making too much noise, of course. It was, particularly, a spring and autumn sound. It is a reassuring sound (to me).

This morning, I heard it again. In the country it lasts for several minutes. This morning it lasted for a few seconds. And then repeated a few seconds later. Of course, I don’t live in the countryside any more, so it was unlikely at before 7 a.m. I would be hearing this sound in the middle of Milan!

And, of course, it wasn’t a chainsaw at all.

Bless him, I thought, but it is really loud – perhaps it’s because he’s so old. After all, this gets worse as you get older – loosening of muscles (you might even say ‘saggy’, especially round the waist), a general ‘relaxing’ of everything. And then I thought that it was good that I had shut them in the kitchen whilst I carried out my morning ablutions and got dressed. If he had been in the bedroom, he would have woken F!

I moved from the lounge (where I was dressing) to the bathroom to do my tie and became aware that the sound was coming from the wrong place.

It wasn’t Rufus after all but F himself! It made me laugh.

It just is.

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It happens sometimes and it’s difficult to explain, really.

Last night, following a telephone call on Monday, I went to see the old man with the book. The book that has taken, apparently, nearly 40 years to write.

I did enjoy the time editing it but I don’t like having to visit him to do editing. I’m not sure why. It might be because I think that, if I live that long, that’s how I will be – living alone, in a faceless, tiny flat, in a huge block, rarely going out (because there’s nowhere close to go to), reclusive but not through desire, etc.

I looked at him last night and thought of Rufus. I wonder if he sits and stares at the walls like Rufus does?

Someone asked me about him the other day. I said I hadn’t heard from him for ages. “I guess the book is finally printed and finished”, I said, “Or, he’s dead!”

I had even moved his contact details out of the briefcase and put them ‘somewhere’. He phoned as I was driving. I said I would call back within the hour. After I had disconnected I realised that I might not have his number. Stupid me, I thought, for not adding his details into my phone.

Luckily, I know myself well enough. It was not filed anywhere, just sitting on top of the filing cabinet, under the laptop.

I left work and drove there. I had had such a headache during the day and it was still making my head feel like someone was kicking it soundly and, so, I was not looking forward to spending an hour or more with him, on an uncomfortable chair, in the lighting that he has (which is not good), hunched over a laptop and trying to interpret what he wants. Still, I thought, it’s extra and unexpected money and every little helps.

Plus I had my ‘late night’ English lesson at 9 p.m. following that. No, this was not going to be a great evening and if the bloody headache wasn’t going to go it would make it one of the worst evenings.

As I was driving, M, my late-night student texted to say his daughter was ill and he wasn’t coming. To be honest, I was grateful.

I got to the place where the bookman lived. For me, it has to be one of the most depressing areas of Milan although I am sure that there are far worse. No, I know that, really, it is not that bad. It’s just the thought of ever having to live somewhere like that. I couldn’t do it. I would rather go back to the UK.

He had a new ‘print’ of the book. To be honest, it was much better than the last one. This time the pages weren’t falling out. He seemed pleased to see me. I think he is. After all, I don’t charge him a fortune and he knows that he can trust me now – well, almost.

We start through the changes he wants. He wants to change a table. I do my best. It’s not as he wants, exactly but he knows that these tables are a real pain. He wants to check everything I do on the screen. Except he can’t read it so well, so it takes longer. I really want out of there but I am unable to leave. I cannot do less than my best for him. I am annoyed with myself for trying to make everything right. Why can’t I be like other people? People who really don’t care. Grrrr.

He asks me more often about whether he has used English correctly. Yes, he trusts me much more now. He uses “reception”. He is concerned that the reader will think he means a reception of a hotel or something similar. I explain that it’s fine. After all, the readers of his book will be highly educated people and will understand the correct meaning. Of course, what I would have liked to say was that the only (few) people who will ever read this book are, to be honest, geeky freaks. I didn’t say that. You ain’t going to be seeing this book in the airport, that’s for certain.

Weirdly, I kind of hope that he will tell me when it has been published. Even more weirdly, if he were to ‘give’ me I copy, I would be really pleased. I think of this and decide that I am quite strange myself. For certain, even if I had this book, I would never, never read it.

We finish, just short of two hours. I wish him good luck and hope that I don’t see him again – but in a nice way – in that the book is finally finished now. I don’t really think it is. I have a better understanding of him now. There will be some other ‘small things’ that need to be done. Still, I suppose if you have been writing this book for 40 years, you might as well make it perfect.

And then, on the drive home, it happened. This thing that happens rarely and at strange times and, seemingly, for no reason at all.

I come to a traffic lights and have to stop. I look the other side of the canal (which runs by the side of the road). There is a shop or, maybe a restaurant or a bar. It doesn’t really matter which. I suddenly become aware of the talk on the radio. I look at the sign on the shop.

“I live in a foreign country”, I think.

It’s the feeling that comes with that thought. The feeling of wonder at being here, of pride at having ‘made it’, of fear of knowing that I will never be ‘of this country’. It’s almost like a shock.

“How strange”, I think, “that, after all this time, this feeling can still come to me and at such unexpected times?”

It was the sign that did it. It wasn’t a special sign just a normal sign with an Italian name or word. I see these every day. Many of them. Why now? Why at this particular time? I don’t think there’s an answer to that. It just happens. It just is.

A brand new day!

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I feel much better, thank you for asking.

OK, so you didn’t actually know I wasn’t feeling so good. It’s not that I’ve been ill. It’s just that, if F isn’t around, I get angry, frustrated, panicky, etc.

But last night he came round, even if it was very late. I slept well and feel so much better.

He makes me feel calm and the issues/problems or whatever just seem to disappear when I am physically with him.

It’s annoying, really, that he has this much effect.

But, now that I’ve spent time with him (even if nearly all of it was asleep), I feel like it’s a brand new day.

Which it is, of course :-)

Disastro!

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OK, so maybe that’s a slight exaggeration.

Last night I saw that my phone was very low on charge. However, this was after we had been to Polpetta (F, An and I) and so I could not stay up long for it to charge. I charged it a bit and it ‘said’ there were two bars of charge. It’s enough.

Except, obviously, it lied. It was not on two bars. During the night it ran out of battery and switched itself off.

This morning, after a rather good night’s sleep, I opened my eyes to see the time was eight minutes past seven.

“Shit!”, I jumped out of bed. The dogs had a short walk. I still had a coffee (as without that I cannot survive), a shower but no shave and rushed out almost an hour late starting to work.

The traffic was terrible.

That’s because there had been a bad accident. Today! The day I am late! I suddenly start driving like an Italian, crossing a dual carriageway exactly as they do! Sometimes I scare myself. I mutter to myself (really I did this), “When in Italy …….”.

Then there were stupid drivers. Then there was a truck blocking the road. It took me an hour to get to work and so I arrived at 9. Grrrr.

Also, I have to admit to you, dear reader that I have, again, fallen off the wagon just a little bit. The night before last I ate two Mars bars. Last night I had two beers.

On the bright side, I have not had a bread roll since I went on the non-diet :-)

Other bright sides: I had almost an hour and a half’s extra sleep; it is Friday; the weather is warmer (or, rather not so cold); tonight I go out with A to Polpetta (he may not talk to me because of the last time) and then we join F and An to go to the Taverna della Lamparo; on Sunday, we shall go for breakfast with An and then, later, for lunch at the Alle Colline Senesi with her. (All links are on the side)

And, Saturday night is the final of the Festival of San Remo, which is televised and which we MUST watch. Well, F MUST watch it and so, we will.

And you? What fun things will you be doing over the weekend?

Everything is new! Or, at least, tidied up :-)

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Hmmm. When they were measuring to replace the windows, they said that when they came to do them, it would take only a few hours. They assumed I would want to be back at work. In reality, of course, it being 3 p.m. (they started work at 8 a.m.) it is a good thing I took the whole day off.

It’s also a good thing that the new washing machine is coming between four and six. It’s also a good thing that my cleaner has not arrived yet. He is due to be here any time now but the men have, nearly, finished.

Many things have happened/are happening. It’s like a whole new place.

When we got back from our night away, because F had let a friend of his stay in his flat (and she was going to stay on Sunday too), we came to my house. We played cards and stuff. He decided that my fridge smelt of garlic and so, being the only thing we had not done during the great ‘Kitchen tidy up’, he decided we would do it now.

Everything was emptied out. Things past their sell-by date were thrown away (I’m really not good at that) and the fridge was cleaned (by F, of course). Now it is very tidy. Obviously, I must try to keep it that way.

We went to buy the new washing machine on Saturday morning, before we left. For the last few months, the machine has, during its spin cycle, sounded as if I had put a couple of boulders in with the washing. God knows what my neighbours have been thinking. So we went to Euronics (obviously). I decided to pay up to €600. So I have a new super washing machine coming this afternoon. This is kind of essential as the last wash I did on Friday night, didn’t actually get any spin at all. It washed and rinsed but no amount of coaxing and restarting by me resulted in any spin at all. And the thought of not having any washing done was terrible. And, as I’ve mentioned before, I AM NOT going back to hand washing.

The nice thing about Euronics is that, not only are they helpful and nice (although I prefer the smaller one on the corner of Viale Vittorio Veneto and Via Lazzaretto than the one on Corso Buenos Aires), they also did their best to get it delivered this afternoon. Obviously, as I write this, it hasn’t been delivered yet …… but I trust them. So there’s another few hundred Euro that Darty don’t have and Euronics do. And it will be the same when I have to replace the fridge, although I’m hoping this will be next year, at least.

So, a cleaned and organised fridge, new windows and doors and a new washing machine. What fun I have!

It’s very cold ……. with no windows; The Smart Box night away.

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Excuse me for this but it is fucking freezing!

The men are here replacing the external doors, windows and shutters. When they said they were going to start in January I did think they were a bit mad. Of course, it wouldn’t be so cold if I were working like them but I am here only to make sure that Rufus doesn’t run off somewhere and Dino doesn’t spend all his time in their way and trying to lick them.

And they have completed the kitchen so we are here and I am typing on the computer and my hands feel numb and it is difficult to type. One of the many disadvantages to smoking, I guess – your circulation is not shit-hot.

I’ve lost the beautiful handles, of course. But the windows look good and, one hopes, the whole flat will be much warmer – after today. They are (and I’ve just got up to check) double glazed and I am very happy about that. During the time they have been here (three and a half hours so far), there have been three people from other flats in the building, coming to them to tell them that one or more of their windows/doors don’t work correctly. I only hope they do mine properly as this would be much more difficult for me to do – what with my bad Italian and the fact that I work all day – leaving before they arrive and coming home after they have gone :-(

Still, they are tidy and the finish they have done is good. There will be no need to re-paint everything afterwards. But the bonus is (I hope) that it will be warmer in the flat.

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Well, what can I say? The weekend (really 24 hours) away was lovely. But let’s get the bad things over and done with. The ‘hotel’ was a bit basic and the room was almost unbearably hot (although, as I write this I wish I was there and not here). The restaurant was at ‘their other place’ which was a fifteen minute drive away. The food was OK but not really amazing. The weather on Sunday was miserable so that we came straight home and did not go somewhere for a few hours – like Pavia – which I had thought we might do. In spite of there being no dogs to take out, we both had a fairly restless night (the heat of the room, the noise of the church bell which rang out at seven to call the faithful to mass on Sunday morning). The town (Pinarolo Po) we stayed in was a bit of a one-horse town. The place with the restaurant (Borgo Priolo) was a collection of houses – and the agriturismo. The place we went to because we were too early for the restaurant (Casteggio) was, to be honest, quite boring and not a ‘pretty Italian town’ like we had hoped.

So, the things that were good? Well, first of all we were away from home. It means we spend more time together and, you know, I do so enjoy that? It was very relaxing. We got to the hotel and were met by a fat version of Riff Raff (from the Rocky Horror Picture Show) at the desk. He was one of those people who don’t go grey, as such. His hair, shoulder length, was that dirty yellow colour, as if he had been in smoke-filled rooms all his life. We got our key, went to our room and had a little relax. Even a little snooze. Then got up and got ready and went to find the restaurant. My navigator is really fantastic. Except for one thing. It makes it easy to find somewhere but, I think, you miss out on finding those ‘unexpected’ places. The route is always one which is ‘main’ roads and I wonder if we don’t miss out on some hidden gem. Also, it meant that I didn’t research the area. So I have no idea if there was somewhere else to go. Maybe Voghera would have been nice to go to for a couple of hours? In future, I must look before we travel so that I have a better idea of what’s around the area.

Anyway, we found the restaurant and there was nothing around. Anyway, it was already dark. We had an hour or so to kill and so we went to a nearby town we had noticed on the way there. This was Casteggio. Casteggio has a huge square in the centre, given up to a car park, as one often sees. We walked around. We both wondered how the shops could possibly survive. There were so few people around. There were shops without customers. F, being a visual merchandiser, commented on how the clothes shops had everything in the window. Too much stuff. But, then, this was not Milan and these were, in general, not designer shops.

We wandered around. There was nothing. We went past a tobacconist and F decided to get a lottery ticket.

“I won a thousand Euro”, he said, all excitedly. I suppose I almost ignored him as the statement was incredible. He showed me the ticket. Indeed, he had won. But not a thousand as he said.

He repeated, “I won a hundred Euro”. Of course, now it made more sense. Sometimes, when you buy a ticket, you win some money. For my regular readers, you may remember I won €5 one time. He had indeed won €100! This was going to pay for our whole evening.

We went to a coffee/bakery shop to ‘celebrate’. We had a drink (non-alcoholic) and some snacky, savoury things. We walked around a bit more but it was, frankly, quite boring. We went back to the restaurant and went in.

This was an agriturismo. The menu was set. There was a bottle of red wine on the table (which was lovely), we had water and they came and poured us a glass of their own spumante (like champagne); to start with a plate of what looked like home-made bread (but was something called tartine – bread with bits in it). Then a plate of meats. The salame was very nice. Then a small selection of pickled onions, mushrooms and a sauce thing made with red peppers, carrots and vegetables. Along with real home-made bread. Very nice.

Next up was pasta, made by them, from wholemeal flour – so, brown. The first was some pasta like ravioli but heart-shaped – it being the Saturday of Valentine. then some short pasta with a mushroom sauce. They came back with seconds of the Valentine pasta – so I had a couple more.

Then we had some Roast Beef (as they call it) Very thin slices of cold roasted beef – done very rare, as they do here. If you don’t compare it to English roast beef then it is lovely. No vegetables or accompaniments, of course, we are in Italy. After that came some pork – except that, really, it was a slice of roasted gammon. F wouldn’t eat his so I had his too. Then they came back with seconds of the roast beef – and it seemed rude to refuse. I had decided anyway that my non-dieting would cease this weekend. Then a sweet which was a fruit tart with a little custard on the side (crema, here). With the sweet was a glass of moscato and then coffee. We were both stuffed. The food was nice but not spectacular. But for €75 (you see how the €100 win paid for the night?) for two, it was very good value and the food was good and a lot.

The night, as I said, was restless. The room was far too hot. And then there was the clanging (for it was not a pleasant, sweet sound) of the church bell at seven.

So much for the dogs not waking us in the morning. We dozed on and off and then at about 9, I got up anyway.

Outside, the glorious and surprisingly warm days of the previous week had been replaced with a drizzly mist. We are in the Po valley, of course. And it was now cold, I suppose as it should be in the middle of February.

We breakfasted. They seemed surprised by my request for a glass of cold milk. So much so that we had to ask twice. Riff Raff was there helping serving the breakfasts.

We packed and were out of the hotel by 10.30 and on our way back to Milan driving through the fog and, kind of, grateful to be going home. But we had a nice time and it’s times like these I feel closer to F and I do like that.

As for the package, the Smart Box? It’s a great idea and, if only we had booked it sooner, we could have chosen the hotel we wanted and it may have been nicer. I would consider buying one for someone else – maybe the gastronomic package?

Non-dieting – Day 3

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I’m afraid I had a bit of a setback this morning.

I would like to point out that this had absolutely nothing to do with my new, fictitious and completely made-up wine diet!

It was putting on a shirt. I found that, whereas, only last week no less, this shirt could be worn with the top button done up, now the button barely made it to the hole, let alone, through it! At first I thought that, perhaps, the shirt was riding too high up on my neck. So I made sure it was pulled down properly. Still no good. Trying to stretch the button to go through the hole and not just kiss it didn’t work either. I had a vision of the cotton threads doing their best to become elastic. Anyway, if I had managed to get the button through the hole it would, at some point during the day, have popped off in spectacular style, maybe even hitting someone in the eye, thereby alerting them to the fact that it seems I am getting fatter by the minute!

This was all somewhat of a shock.

So I am wearing a shirt with the top button undone and a tie that is, therefore loose. I feel untidy.

However, this lunchtime, again, I didn’t take any bread (although my hand did reach in for one); I had half the normal amount of pasta; 2 polpette and some spinach. Again, I do not feel as bloated as usual.

Tonight I have a student. He texted me at a quarter to midnight last night to ask if it was OK to come tonight at 7.30. He doesn’t come every week. I didn’t reply; I was almost asleep. I replied this morning. I then get this slightly strange message:

“I’m thinking to a new program of study! Than (sic) I let u know! See u later!”

He certainly likes his exclamation marks!!!! I guess I should talk to him about them :-)

Does that mean that he is coming tonight or not? A new program of study – is that a new thing with me or with someone else? Is it English or some other subject? And he’s going to let me know later today or tonight or sometime in the future? I have no idea what it means. He has only been with me for about 5 lessons so I have no idea how he thinks ….. yet.

Also, tonight, I’m supposed to go round to a friend’s new flat but no time has been set and, to be honest, it might not happen.

I have been promised Mirto. It’s an incentive that works for me. Maybe I should change my diet from a wine-diet to a mirto-diet? Of course, if she does food too or wants to go out for a pizza or something, I can’t really say ‘no’ – that would just be rude but it certainly won’t help me doing up the top button on my shirt, will it?