Category Archives: Experiences

Just bloody well DO IT!

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I know it. I’m quite lazy. I avoid things if they seem too difficult.

People think that it was quite something to come here with nothing – no job, no command of the language, no friends here, etc. But it’s simply not true. It was easy. We had money. Money means you can be quite stupid and don’t really have to work at it.

And, even if, now, I don’t have ‘money’, I still, sometimes, act as if I have. This is not only laziness but stupidity. However, some things are still just far too difficult and throwing money at them solves the problem.

Take, for example, the legal requirement (probably soon) to have either snow chains or snow tyres on your car. It was supposed to be the law from about 15th November. Pietro, who is always so helpful, guided me to a place to get snow chains. These are the cheapest option of course.

I waited and waited. Not for any particular reason other than I just didn’t want to go through the hassle of getting them. Pietro texted me in the last week possible to say that the law had been ‘postponed’. I was grateful. I didn’t have to go. I didn’t have to look and not find. I didn’t have to try to ask someone who, undoubtedly, wouldn’t speak English. I didn’t have to get the wrong thing. I wouldn’t be there at 6 a.m. one morning trying to put the things on the car when it had snowed in Milan. I procrastinated.

We had snow. I learnt that my car is not fantastic in snow. Sure, I can manage. I’ve done it for 20-odd years. But it’s not pleasant.

Then the snow went. Through my mind, every time I got in the car was ‘I must do something’.  Every night, on the way back from work, at the start of my street, is the tyre place I used one time. It was always busy. ‘I’ll do it tomorrow night’, I thought. ‘I’ll go and ask and see how much they are'; ‘It will be better to have tyres’. Each time, fixing, in my head, the maximum I would be prepared to pay, knowing that the snow chains would cost only €50.

But tomorrow came and it was too cold or too much hassle or I just wasn’t in the mood. And those of you who have followed my blog long enough will know that I don’t like garages. And tyre places are the same as garages, for me.

I had a cheque from the UK yesterday. I had to pay it in. Banks here are just so weird. There’s a new branch of my bank in Porta Venezia. My branch is near where I work. I know, from past experience, that although they are the same ‘bank’, because they are two different branches, they might as well be completely different banks. But I also know that I CAN pay the cheque in at this branch. They, of course, will not ‘pay the cheque in’ but, rather, send it to my branch who will pay it in. This means an additional couple of days for the post. However, since I am not back at work until the 10th, it makes sense to use this service. There’s no point in driving all the way to work to pay in a cheque.

So, I go. I pass by the tyre place. I note that it is closed until 2.30. It is lunchtime. They close for two hours. Siamo in Italia, after all.

I pay in the cheque. She explains that she has to send it too the branch. She phones the branch. She will fax over the details – but, still, she will have to send it – and then my branch can pay it in. Here it seems we are stuck somewhere in the twentieth century. Still she is nice and it is done now. It will still be quicker than waiting until the 10th.

I decide to take a walk up Corso Buenos Aires. I am going to look in Zara. I might get a jumper similar to the one I bought F for Christmas – when the sales start, of course. And a hat. And some gloves. On the way I spot some nice watches. They are Moschino. Plain and simple, just as I like. One white and one black. They are about €140. I CAN afford it but why would I want to. Still ……..

I get to Zara and see some nice coats that are not so expensive. And a hat that is cheap. But I will wait for the sales when, undoubtedly, nothing I want will be reduced and, again, I won’t buy anything. We shall see. The sales, according to F, start on 6th January.

I walk down and decide to go to the Carrefour in Via Modena – near F’s place. On the way I pass Esselunga. I should go there but I have a fidelity card for Carrefour (actually it is F’s) and it’s a nice day, the sun is shining, it is cold but bearable. I walk on. I finish shopping in Carrefour getting everything I need except lentils – because they had none. It’s the tradition here for New Year. Cotecchino or zampone with lentils – the lentils signifying money. The cotecchino I buy anyway. It’s better not to know what’s inside. It would never catch on in the UK. Cotecchino is a kind of very large sausage which is boiled and zampone is a stuffed pigs trotter which is done in the same way. For both, I expect, the filling is more or less the same. Some herbs and spices and meat from the pig that they can’t sell you as slices of meat. But the taste is good and I do really like it to eat. F will have only one slice as he doesn’t really like it – he just does it for tradition.

It’s now gone 2 p.m. I will walk back to the tyre place after all – even if it is out of my way. I approach the place (which is round the corner) and note that I will still have 10 minutes to wait before they re-open. Hmm. I toy with the idea of doing it another day but decide I will wait. After all, I can just ask. Maybe.

As I turn the corner, I see they are open. I go in. The guy and I ‘communicate’. I want to know how much they will cost. He doesn’t have the tyres here and wants to make a phone call. I explain that, first, I need to know how much they are. He tells me the price for one set. It’s too much. But another make is €80 cheaper. And it’s almost within my ‘set price’. Yes, OK. Thinking about putting snow chains on, I agree. He makes the phone call. They only have the expensive ones. I thank him and say goodbye. As I am leaving he calls me back. They have the cheaper ones after all. They will store my current ones for €25. I say OK. We agree I will go back tomorrow afternoon.

So, tomorrow, at 4 p.m., I will have snow tyres. I hope we have some bloody snow now, this winter. But, if we do then, at least, I won’t be struggling to put chains on at some stupid hour in the morning. We’ll see if they really make a difference.

At least, finally, I’ve done something about it, even if I took the lazy way out.

Some restaurants I should have mentioned

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Of course, since the ‘tidy up’ of the kitchen, I am no longer ‘allowed’ to have random bits of paper on the kitchen table, near the computer. I had moved it all, temporarily, to my chair in the bedroom and today, whilst sorting out (and putting away) the Christmas presents, I also sorted the bits of paper.

Amongst the things I ‘found’ were some cards from various restaurants I have visited in the last few months. Unfortunately, for one of them, my mind is a bit hazy as to exactly what I had – but that’s OK. I still have the impression from them all.

So, the first one (and oldest re: visit) that I have is Kapuziner Platz in der Stadt. This is the one in Viale Monte Nero. This is a German ‘pub’. The beer is, erm, German. The food is, erm, German (with an Italian touch, of course). Unfortunately I have forgotten what I had. I know F had a cottoletta milanese (wiener schnitzel). I suppose I had lamb – or beef. Anyway, the place is nice, the food was good (not fantastic but good) and I seem to remember it was reasonably priced.

The second one was Momà  Restaurant. The only link I could find was one through Facebook. We went there with Al and R and a friend of theirs. The meal was wonderful. OK, so it’s not so cheap but the antipasto (including burrato) was very, very good and the meat (Al and I shared a plate of meat) was fantastic. The wine we had with it was exceptional. One word of warning – don’t have antipasto and primo and secondo. The portions were very generous and to have all three would mean you would be unable to leave the table! I would go back there in a second.

The final one is outside Milan, in the ‘Hinterland’. And, unfortunately, this was dreadful. This was lunchtime and is in the town where I work. We had gone in on a public holiday to do some stuff and, for lunch, went here (as there’s not so much choice). It’s supposed to be good and, I have to admit, I have been there before when it seemed OK. This time, however, it was awful. The restaurant is Papillon. They’re supposed to have their own website (it says on the card) but it doesn’t work. A little like the restaurant. We all had pizza. Mine was (to be on the safe side) Diavola – with spicy salami. It wasn’t the very worst I’ve tasted – but it was close. The service was so slow and people who came in after us got served before us and, for what we had it’s expensive. Avoid it like the plague!

There – now I can put these cards away too :-D

That was the Christmas that was!

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And so, that was Christmas.

In the end, it wasn’t just the four of us. Christmas Eve, I was chatting to one of my students on Facebook chat and she asked me what I was doing so I told her. Obviously, I asked what she was doing and she said that she was on her own. So, more obviously, I invited her to join us for Christmas lunch. Well, it is the season of giving and goodwill to all men (and women) and all that sort of stuff, isn’t it? The thought of someone I know (even if only a student) on their own on Christmas day would have been unbearable.

There was plenty of food. In fact we didn’t do everything that we had planned. But we did have antipasto and cold meats, followed by the lasagne (which was fantastic) and then my roast veal (which was OK – but not as nice as it should be) and the Yorkshire puddings failed – I have to find out why – it doesn’t make sense – but everything else was good – including my mince pies.

And we had presents. F was really happy with my main present to him. After the camera thing (that he decided to buy himself), FfI suggested I buy him a printer to print pictures – and knowing he likes doing compilation CDs for everyone, I bought him a printer that does photos and CDs as well. He was really happy. And I bought him a jumper from Zara that he said he had looked at in Madrid and nearly bought. So, a great success. Luckily I had also bought the scarf made by Lola – so instead of F getting it, I gave it to S (the waif and stray student). She was overjoyed with it. So, thank you Lola – without that I would have had nothing to give her.

So, although it didn’t all go as expected, I think it was a success. After we took the dogs for a walk and S had left, we went to watch ‘Prancer’ (La rene – in Italian) – that I gave F last year because it is his favourite film for Christmas. But he fell asleep within a second – and so we stopped watching it. Then there was Ratatouille (in Italian) on the TV.  We watched it for a little.  F fell asleep again.  So I tidied up the kitchen and took the dogs out and went to bed.  I was asleep before 11.  F was still asleep lying on the bed, fully clothed.  He woke up and felt cold so got into bed with me and we both went to sleep.

During the day he had phoned S (his ex) and we chatted for a few moments.  S asked what we were doing for New Year.  I said we were just staying home. He laughed and said that F never wanted to do anything except stay at home.  And it is true.  But now I realise he has always been like this.  But, for me, it is fine.  In fact, it is good and exactly what I like to do.  I suspect that this thing was one of the reasons that they broke up in the end.  After all, that was more like V &; I – V wanting to go out more than me.

And, we have had more of cleaning.

“I’ll just clean a little bit the flat”, he says.  I have never corrected his English on this.  It’s kinda cute and I like it a lot.  There has been much ‘cleaning a little bit the flat’ – although the bedroom remains a major thing to be ‘tidied up’.  In fact, this morning he says ‘That has to go’ – to a bag full of envelopes.  It’s OK.  It means he is much more comfortable here.

Rufus has been bad again since yesterday.  And he ‘staggers’ sometimes – falling forwards or sideways – unable to stand upright so well.  Poor thing.  However, it’s a good job we didn’t go to Vienna with him like this.  I would have felt so guilty.  And it’s much more comfortable for him to be in his own environment – the place that he knows.  Bless him.

And now F has gone to work.  He has to re-do the shop window.  I need to do some shopping and I have a lesson tonight, unfortunately.

In the meantime, I give you the photo of the mince pies :

Homemade Mince Pies

Weak Snow ………….. but not if you’re in the UK, apparently.

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I catch myself saying things in the way that Italians say them.

“I hate”, says F, quite a lot.  I have corrected him a few times.  I just repeat and add ‘it’ at the end. But I find myself saying it to him, now.  It’s easier.

‘We are in three’ – a direct translation from Italian but really should be translated as ‘There are three of us’ – when asking for a table in the restaurant, for example.

At first, it made me smile when I heard English people saying it.  Now I say it too!

And, now it is snowing.  These are big flakes.  Pietro said, the other day, it was ‘weak snow’.  I laughed.  I love the fact that Italians use words that make sense but are not what we would say.  I explained we would say ‘light snow’ but I like the idea of weak snow.  Of course, it implies that the opposite is ‘strong snow’, which is even funnier since snow is not really strong!

And, whilst we’re on the subject of the weather, we are not having it anywhere near as bad as the UK.  Although it is interesting that most airports in the UK seem to be open – with the exception of Heathrow.  Heathrow, being, apparently, the busiest airport in the UK is closed or partially closed.  Other airports can stay open except the biggest!  Hah!

But, I am quite annoyed by the complaining people. The complaints can be divided into basic groups:

    The government should do something about it!

Why?  If you are told not to travel except if it is necessary, then don’t blame the government if you get stuck in traffic.  And I question if your journey is really essential?  I read in some comments, yesterday, someone saying how they had travelled to see family to give Christmas presents.  I’m sorry but this is NOT a necessary journey.  By making this journey you are helping the congestion on the road and you are selfish.

    The local councils should use more grit.

Apart from the fact that below about -5° the grit has no real effect, if the councils overspend and therefore raise the council tax to pay for it, are you going to say it’s OK?  No, I thought not.

    This should have be planned for.

Why?  The UK is not Finland.  It does not have a continuous blanket of snow for 5 or 6 months of the year.  And planning for it means spending money.  The money must come from somewhere.  This means that everyone has to pay more OR that other things must be cut.  So, you can have your necessary grit and snowploughs if you are prepared to have less teachers in the school or stop paying for cosmetic surgery on the NHS.  Will that be remembered when someone doesn’t get taught to the right level or where someone who has been disfigured in an accident can’t have surgery to make it right?  No, I didn’t think so.

I don’t like the Daily Mail at all but I’ve started reading it online because it gives me an insight into the mind of moronic, bigoted people.  And this article shows exactly what is wrong with people.  Some stupid woman leaves a very warm, southern-hemisphere country to fly back to Britain just before Christmas.  Lucky her for being in a warm place.  She comes wearing flip-flops.  She has obviously forgotten that Britain tends to be a little chilly.  Or, more probably, she is stupid and has no idea of forward planning.

I then rugby tackled a woman from the airline. ‘Where do I go to ask about my flight to Heathrow?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘But you work for the airline. You’re wearing a badge.
‘I’m just directing people to the self-service check-in.’

Hmm. As she works for the newspaper, perhaps she can tell me where I can go buy a few tonnes of printing paper? No, I thought not. But she works for the paper!

‘How do I do that?’ I was given a piece of paper by another mute employee; this had a phone number on it. (Anyone without a mobile – old ladies, nuns, the weak, the injured – were culled.)

Hmmm. Old ladies, nuns, the weak and the injured probably HAVE mobile phones. If they don’t then there are things called ‘pay phones’. You go, you pay money and you dial. This reminds me of the time at the Paris Airshow when someone came up and asked where the entrance was (there were a LOT of entrances) because she was meeting a friend. A friend who didn’t have a mobile phone! In this day and age? And I question why you would travel in these days WITHOUT a mobile phone.

Eventually, at 9.35pm on Sunday, I was put on a flight to Birmingham. I did not want to go to Birmingham.

If it had been me who was serving you you would not have been going to Birmingham. You would have been staying in the airport at Schiphol. Excuse me, but if you didn’t want to go to Birmingham, why did you go? No one was forcing you onto the plane, were they? Oh yes, that’s right, it was better than staying in the airport and there was a chance you could get to where you wanted. Now, if you had been on a plane already in the air that changed it’s flight plan then you would have a better reason to write those words.

I don’t really care about the case, but I do mind that I was stripped of my humanity, and tipped into a world where nothing matters but petty rules, and spectacular indifference.

Ummm. Excuse me. You were NOT stripped of your humanity. And if you don’t want to be in that world then don’t travel by air. You were stupid enough to travel from Bolivia to the UK at the end of December wearing only flip-flops. You are stupid and ignorant and deserve everything you get!

Oh, yes, and you write for the Daily Mail. Still, I suppose stupidity and ignorance are a job requirement for that paper so you must feel right at home!

Christmas Lunch – not goose, maybe, but at least it will be meat!

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We’re still talking about it but it seems the fish is off.

The decision was made by F going and ordering lasagne – a meat ragù lasagne.  Also with a little more information that I learnt the other day.  He can eat (even likes?) veal.  So, following the information about the ordering of the lasagne and the revelation that all meat is NOT a no-go area, as I was shopping last night, I checked, and they do rolled veal – for roasting.

So, I suggested that, if he would like, I could do a sort of English Sunday Roast – but, instead of beef, use veal (since it is the same meat, after all).  And, so, unless there is a change of heart, that is going to be our Christmas dinner.  I am very happy about that.  I am, after all, a meat eating (and loving) person.  We will also have Yorkshire Pudding with it.  It will be the first time I’ve ever done Yorkshire Pudding for Christmas Day :-)

The discovery of veal being OK also opens up so many more possibilities.

Perhaps, he has just said it for my benefit.  I don’t really know.  It is a possibility.  We shall see if he eats it.

p.s. Yes, I don’t understand why you would pull a face at the mention of goose – and, yet, be more than happy to eat chicken or, worse, veal!  Makes absolutely no sense to me and I really do think it’s just stuck in his head.  Bless him.

I don’t know that the war can be won here.

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One of my colleagues at work, M, talks to me, daily, about the latest ‘revalations’ regarding the ‘Mafia’ here, in Italy (and here I am using Mafia in the general sense, covering all the different groups).  Just the other day, he informed me, Paderno Dugnano was a ‘hotbed’ of Italian Mafia (in this case the Ndrangheta, from Calabria) – who had made it their Lombardy headquarters.  It would be similar to them making Romford, in Essex, their British base.

And we have talked of the ‘whys’ – when, so it is said, the police secret service know all the leaders and where they live.

I tried to explain that it is a problem that, in my opinion, is too deeply ingrained into all (well, I mean the majority, of course) Italians.  I explained to him about S, my other colleague.  She always asks people for someone they know when she is buying anything or having work done.  And, she always expects a discount.  The discount comes with a price, of course.  The price is no receipt.  The no receipt not only means no tax to the government but also means the money can go into the ‘black’ – i.e. into the black economy.

Of course, she knows that.  We all know that.  We know that our few Euro going into the black economy is nothing.  But the few Euro for thousands of transactions every day (or, even, every hour) adds up to a considerable sum which can then be used to safely hide dirty money or to pay bribes.

But, she doesn’t think about it like that.  She thinks of it as her getting a bargain.  And a bargain is important, moreso here than in the UK.  Everybody does it.  Go to a restaurant and pay without asking for a receipt, in cash, and you will get a discount.  And they say that restaurants are one of the main ways that money can filter into the black economy.  It is said, apparently, so M tells me, that many restaurants in Milan are owned by the Mafia.  I can believe it.  You may get a 5 or 10 Euro discount by paying cash – that cash (and the subsequent saving in tax by the restaurant) can add up to a lot in one evening.

The problem is that it cannot be solved easily, if at all.  With a very few exceptions that I know of, everyone wants that discount here.  Buzz Lightyear (Mr B) continues to ‘infinity and beyond’ as he survives another vote of confidence.  Despite the recent Wikileaks cables suggesting a link between him and Mr Putin (another place where, I suspect, the Mafia rules) and money changing hands.  Well, why not?  After all, he is only doing what S does, albeit on a slightly larger scale?  S approves of him.  She is a supporter.  He is, after all a great businessman here.  And we would honestly believe that he hasn’t greased a few palms here along the way?  That he hasn’t accepted any kickbacks in a ‘you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours’ kind of way?  It is, after all, the way that even the ‘little’ people operate here.

Perhaps it also operates like that in the UK and I was just too blind or stupid to see it?  Or too naive to know better. I’m not trying to say that Italy is worse than the UK in this respect since I really don’t know. But here it is more obvious ……… and more accepted.

And, therefore, this, with Italians being brought up with this thinking, is too difficult to fight. Too difficult to control. Too difficult to destroy. And this, of course, is one of the reasons that Buzz remains in power since ‘everyone’ is at it, to a greater or lesser degree (I say everyone but I absolutely know of at least one person who insists on receipts for everything and has a good ‘community’ awareness).

And, no, I do not include myself in this list of upstanding people. On Saturday afternoon, a guy is coming to take down my Art Deco lamp in the lounge and take it away to be fixed. I asked my boss for someone that may be able to do this and she suggested him. Any money I pay (and it will be considerably cheaper than getting a proper electrician to come) will not be ‘declared’, of course. And the same in some restaurants. And my dentist. And a load of other people. And me. And I know that I am contributing to this – this malaise that affects Italy. But as I said to M – this is not my fight. I do my thing for the UK – where I really (feel that I) know the ins and outs of the situation. I do it with my posts about the students protests and other things. That I can do. To buck the trend, the way of life, in Italy – given all my other problems with just living here – is too much to ask.

There! Poor excuse it may be but it’s the way it is.

Clear and concise thinking come with a hangover from hell

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For those of you who don’t drink alcohol, I guess you’ve never had this.  That moment when you wake up, your brain seemingly turned to some sort of half mush and having grown so that it is attempting to expand your skull.  The woolliness of thought and motion as you try to grapple with even the simplest of tasks, including rising from the bed in the first place.

Ah yes, the painful joy of knowing that last night was a ‘great night, wasn’t it?’  Maybe the mixing of drinks didn’t help?

And, inevitably, there is the ‘Oh my God!  What did I say/do that for?’  An embarrassment that surely, next time, will make you stop just one glass of wine or can of beer earlier.  That ‘never again’ feeling.

Except that, on Thursday morning, at around 4 a.m., when I woke up with all these symptoms, the thoughts of guilt and shame did not stem from the night before when I did not say or do anything untoward.  No these horrors that I foisted on the rest of my associates/friends/relatives happened around 30 years ago!  Worse still, I wasn’t drunk.  at least not from alcohol.  From youth and lack of knowledge, perhaps.

And, as can only happen during the mother of all hangovers, this was particularly clear and concise thinking that led me to understand what a hopeless bastard I was at that time and that the things I did then (for this particular ‘problem’) were really juvenile to the extreme.  And it made me wonder that, if I had approached and reacted to the situation differently, would it have made any difference to my life, to the path that my life has taken?

Probably not.  And, even if I should have behaved so very badly, I still stand by the things I said and did – although maybe now I could have said things is a more meaningful way and done things slightly differently.  And I also realised that enormous sway that they held over me at that time, for I was young – too young and unable to handle anything with real maturity.

However, the effect on me of these thoughts was the same as if I had acted terribly the night before and woken up with my befuddled brain to be appalled with the antics I had carried out the previous night and filled with shame over whom I may have offended with such outrageous behaviour.

But not quite.  For, as it was 30 years ago, I cannot remember it so precisely.  And I forgive myself as, in any event, things are as they are.  One little incident would not have made such a huge difference either way.  But it would be interesting to see the parallel universe and see how things turned out by a change in my behaviour.

Don’t you think?

Video Art – here IS the passion I have been talking about.

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Art.  It’s all down to what you like.  Just because someone says it is good doesn’t mean you like it (even if you can admire it for it’s skill, of course).

Modern art – even more so.  Picasso doesn’t really do much for me, I’m afraid.  Damien Hirst and his polka dot phase also left me very cold, although I did like the half a cow thing.

However, my favourite modern art stuff is video art.  I don’t know why but I can get quite excited about it all and watch it for, well, if not quite hours, certainly a long time.  Video art to me is NOT a film.  It’s something else.  It can be almost mundane but, somehow, to me, intriguing, interesting, fun, etc.

If anyone is going to London, I always tell them that a ‘must see’ in my opinion is the Tate Museum of Modern Art – for me, possibly, the most wonderful place on this planet as far as museums and art galleries go.  There I have seen the film of a woman eating a sausage, rotting fruit, a boxer and others (I know it doesn’t sound like great stuff but, really, it is).

And now there is an exhibition at the Serpentine Gallery where Phillipe Parreno is showing some of his films (and other stuff).  But there is one film that really excites me.  And that is from seeing two stills!  It is InvisibleBoy – a film of a Chinese immigrant boy with monsters and the like ‘scratched’ onto the film.

I know it isn’t everyone’s cup of tea – but video art does something for me that most other media don’t quite achieve – and, if I lived in London or nearby, this one I could not miss.  Below is the still.  You probably won’t find it exciting at all but for me it almost took my breath away.  If you go to the site link (above) you will see another still.  Really, this is something incredible.

Thanks; Chiara Civello; Perfect Yorkshire Puds and some really good port

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Well, I’ve now been and it was lovely but, as I’m not from the USA (I guess), it was, more or less, like going to dinner at someone’s house.

I’m talking of Thanksgiving.

I’m talking turkey, mashed potatoes, and a rather glorious stuffing.

To be honest, I thought it was going to be an all-American affair (except for me) but it took on quite an International flavour. 3 Americans, 1 Canadian, 1 Australian, 1 Italian and me. The turkey (which I’ve never been mad keen on) was rather good and well cooked. The stuffing was fantastic. The wine and conversation flowed and we even had a rather difficult conversation with N & S all the way from San Francisco – the ‘difficult’ part being the connection which, unfortunately kept dying.

I got home at about 3.30 a.m. I then spoke to Ag on the telephone. She was in need of someone to talk to. It meant I got to bed about 5.30. I was, unsurprisingly, tired on Saturday. My headache was still here (but that could have been just ‘cos I’m tired).

F phoned me during the day on Saturday. He said that things were going rather well and he was going to be coming home that night so that we can go to a concert. He had booked it before he knew that he would be away and there had always been some doubt about whether he would be there.

He got home in the late afternoon and then we met up and went for a pizza at Liù (see link at side) – except Liù was full so we went to Time Out 2 instead. Then strolled down to Il’s flat and took a taxi with her to see Chiara Civello at Blue Note.

She was fabulous although I was so tired and we went to the second concert of that evening – it started at 11.30! He knows her because his ex, M, from Rome, knows her. After the concert we went backstage and I was introduced to her as ‘my new boyfriend’. I had been similarly introduced to someone who sat with us and was a friend from some time ago. She works for Moschino or somewhere like that.  It was then added that I was a ‘real man compared to S’ – which always makes me smile – although I never, ever make any comment, of course.

Anyway, there are a couple of Chiara’s tracks at the bottom. I hope you enjoy them. She was lovely, always smiling and the music is really good.

Yesterday, as F is away, I had promised A that I would do Sunday lunch for him and Fr – you know, the Roast Beef type of Sunday lunch, which F would not enjoy so much.

A had baked some bread which we had with something that was like a light pâté that F had brought back from Germany. There was goose-liver and reindeer – they were delicious and not at all heavy as pâté can be sometimes.

Then we had the roast beef and, with my new cooker, the perfect Yorkshire puddings – YAY! I will do a post with the recipe since it has never, except once, let me down. The only reason it didn’t work before was my old oven, I was sure – and this proved correct when, this time, they were well risen and light – just as they should be. Also, when I had been in France last year, I had bought some red horseradish sauce – and it was quite hot, which I liked.

After that we had Apple and Blackberry Crumble with whipped cream. This was all followed by cheese (including Stilton) and some rather fine port, bought for me by a colleague when he went to Portugal. The problem was that then I just couldn’t stop drinking it. I had to ‘force’ myself to stop, even after A & Fr left.

Anyway, they enjoyed it – as did I.

I spent the rest of the evening washing up :-).

F is back on Wednesday as that is the day that the new shop will open. I will be very happy when he is back, as will Dino. And Rufus who is a LOT better. Thanks for all your kind wishes.

Anyway, enjoy Chiara – these are some of my favourite songs of hers.

Things take a turn for the worse…….

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For a more positive start though, it seems the hosting company did fix the problem :-)

So, now I am back, which is nice.  I can post properly, add tags and everything!

But now I’m going to talk about not being so well.  And first it is Rufus who has taken a decided turn for the worse.  After a couple of days of being more sprightly and perky, we started the day before yesterday with, whilst not exactly diarrhoea, definitely things were a bit soft and also, sometimes, a bit runny.  However, last night, when we got back from our early evening walk, we also had a bit of vomiting – and it was not at all pleasant.  He seems ok-ish this morning but I can’t be sure.

People have been asking me if I’m taking him to the vet but, no, at this stage, I’m not.  He doesn’t seem in pain but obviously his stomach is not so good.  But the vet can’t do anything, really.  Sure he could give him some antibiotics, I suppose, which will work – and then, after a couple more days, we’ll be back to the same.  Alternatively, if there is something really wrong (which is just as likely), what can the vet do?  He can’t have an operation, he’s far too old for that.  And he won’t appreciate being prodded and poked.  So, we’ll see how it goes (which is what I normally say, now, when it comes to Rufus).

But I will try, this weekend, to spend a little more time than normal giving him some cuddles and stuff.  Bless him.

And then there’s me with this bloody headache thing.  I went out with A for a couple of beers and a pizza – nothing excessive – and this morning – a head like I’d drunk every bit of alcohol in Milan!  This has been a couple of weeks now.  I don’t get it.  It is very, very annoying.  However, I do remember cracking my head on an open cabinet door in the kitchen so maybe it’s just all a bit bruised is all.  Let’s hope it gets better very soon because it is ticking me off now.  A lot.