Category Archives: Italy

Overall thoughts on Italy and things we do

The Jewelry Box

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I didn’t really know what to expect.

In the end it’s like quite a pretty jewelry box. Blue, marble effect. With a gold coloured clasp on the front.

He tells me it’s sealed but we can break the seal if we want. It’s sealed because that is the law. On the back it has the name. And the name of the company. Inside, he tells me, is a plastic bag.

It’s not what I was expecting. It’s neither a ceramic urn nor some sort of plastic container – either of which would have made more sense to me.

We are, apparently, going to put a photo of him on the box. F will do that, being as he’s ‘visual’.

It sits, at the moment, on the coffee table in the lounge. For some strange reason, I felt it had to be in a ‘place’ not just shoved in a corner. So it sits, on it’s own, apart from the table lamp, on the table. I’m not really sure what to do with it, to be honest.

So, it sits there.

F will be back tomorrow. Maybe he will want to put it somewhere else?

Dust is dust and ashes are, well, just that.

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I read that one British woman, who lives abroad, is suing the owners of Costa Concordia for the loss of her husband’s ashes.

I’ve always wondered what the fascination is about getting back the ashes. I’ve thought it strange. I mean, the person, as a living human being can make you laugh or cry can love you or hate you – but the ashes? What are they other than a pile of, well, burnt remains.

It’s a bit like ‘things’ really. I mean, I like to have nice things but, you know, they’re just ‘things’ – a piece of wood or metal or plastic or ash. I can’t get upset over a ‘thing’.

But tonight, as a first, I may be going to collect Rufus’ ashes.

Of course, this is for F really, as you might realise. For me, I shall remember the funny way he used to jump up, later to raise his front legs as in a rearing horse and latterly barely making it off the ground, before we went for a walk. Rather than Dino’s complete turn round.

I will remember his pretty face and the way his ‘trot’ was so ‘refined’ unlike Dino’s rather big-arse, swinging gait – Rufus walked like a model.

I shall remember his gentleness when taking food, much like Dino now, before he became blind and would snatch it out of your hand (almost, sometimes, taking your hand too!)

I shall remember the time he caught a live rabbit (although it wasn’t live for long) and then, on returning to the house how he wouldn’t come in until he had eaten every single bit of it. And my worry that it might have myxomatosis, even though, quite obviously, the rabbit didn’t have that.

I shall remember, when I was preparing to drive here with our belongings, how he got in the car about 8 in the morning and wouldn’t leave the car – not for any reason, as if he was frightened he would be left behind. And the drive down with him curled up in a tiny space and stopping often for him to have a stretch.

I shall remember getting Dino and Dino and him playing in the park with a huge tree branch that had come down in a storm, each trying to pull it off the other, lots of growling but no malice in that – it was part of the game – before Rufus became too weak to be able to match Dino.

I shall remember that he was a great dog.

But, of the ashes, I’m not really sure. I have mixed feelings about wanting them in my house. It seems kind of morbid. I must have become old. I think it will just be another thing that will want cleaning. And, anyway, I don’t believe it will be the ashes of Rufus. Just some ash. Not the same thing at all really. But I won’t tell F that. I’ll let him believe what he wants. I would even confirm that it was, if he should ever ask.

Will it be in some nice jar or something terribly gaudy and trashy? After all, in my head, keeping the ashes of something is trashy – or that’s how I thought. It wasn’t done in our family. And I’m a little nervous about how F will take this – whereas, for me, the essence of Rufus remains in my memories, just like the essence of my grandfather is not in some little plot in some churchyard in rural Herefordshire. I can’t get attached to some thing. It has to have a beating heart. Without that it doesn’t bring out the same feeling.

And yet …….

I feel some trepidation at going to the vet. As if there is some real finality about it all. As if, by not getting this, I can imagine him not dead but alive somewhere. As if he might come home. Or, perhaps this waiting for the urn and the ashes is, in some strange way, keeping him more ‘alive’ in my head. Stretching out the death process by over a week.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s not a sadness in these thoughts (although maybe a slightly damp eye). It’s an unknown and strange feeling I have.

But like all the other ‘firsts’ since I’ve come to Italy, I must steel myself and go do this thing, even if I would prefer not to.

Traffic – less: Milan Congestion Charge; Fuel Increases; Fashion Week

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Perhaps it’s just me?

I’ve noticed or, should I say, it seems, that, in general, there’s less traffic in Milan. And, even with this being Men’s Fashion Week, the usual nightmares with traffic on my way home are absent.

If I’m not wrong there are a number of factors at play that could make it less.

One is the new Congestion Charge in Milan that was introduced on 16th January. Now, to go into the centre of Milan, almost everyone has to pay €5 per day. The previous charges allowed many (of the newer) cars to go in for free. Now, no. I am outside the ‘Area C’ as it is called. In fact, I never drive into this area anyway. But I’m only just outside and I did wonder if this new set of charges would mean that all the car parking in my area would be taken. It seems not. It seems that people are either leaving their cars at home or travelling to a tube station and taking public transport.

I know not everyone likes the charge and I wouldn’t be ecstatic about it should it cover my area – but it is so much nicer with less traffic.

The other reason could be the sharp increases in the cost of petrol. Last summer I was filling up the car for about €50. Last night it cost me nearly €70! That’s a hefty increase. The increase is down to the austerity measures brought in by the new government of Italy. It’s another of those ‘let the ordinary people pay for the stupidity of the very rich banks’ rule.

I keep thinking that, sooner or later, people will wake up but it seems not just yet.

Perhaps, also, because of the crisis in general, there are not so many people at this year’s fashion week?

However, whatever the reason, it does make Milan more pleasant to live in and I’m not complaining.

Bloody people!

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You may remember, some time ago (almost 1 year ago, in fact), I had some problems with the refurbishments made to both my flat and the flat next door.

First there was the sudden appearance of two holes in the wall of the bedroom.

They filled them.

Then, during a windy night, one of the shutters came loose, threatening to fall to the courtyard below.

Telephone calls were made to the administrator’s office to ask for repair.

More telephone calls were made. Apparently, even though there was a swarm of builders in our building every day, it was very difficult to arrange for them to come and fix it.

Then, one of the builders told F that there may be new holes in the wall and, sure enough, new holes had appeared by the radiators in both the lounge and the sitting room.

More telephone calls and emails were made and sent.

During one telephone call, the ‘lady’ suggested that the shutter would be down to me until it was pointed out that the first telephone call was made to them in April. And, anyway, it was poor workmanship.

Just before Christmas the last calls were made. It seemed that, even though the defects had been reported several times, she could not make the builders come and fix it.

So I got a quote from someone.

Yesterday, I faxed (not emailed since here, email is not legally binding – yes, I know but, as I’ve said before, sometimes being here is like stepping back to the fifties or something) the quote with a letter giving them 7 days or I would do it myself, taking the money from any rent to be paid.

This morning, at 9.04 a.m. I received an email from her. Never before has the response been so fast. Do you think it might have been the money thing?

It stated that the builders would come round to repair the walls this morning – at 8.30 a.m. – more than half an hour BEFORE I received the email!!!!!

And that, on either Thursday or Friday, someone would come to repair the shutter.

I’ve sent another letter explaining that I am at work and that they can come either before 7.15 a.m., after 6 p.m. or on Saturday, after 8 a.m.

I expect I shall be sending another letter next week saying that unless arrangements are made I shall go ahead with the guys who did the quote.

Something that could have been done in the last year but wasn’t, now has to have special arrangements. Stuff them!

It’s a winter festival!

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It looks like snow.  It covers the ground and the trees and, sometimes, floats in the air – almost like snow but smaller and finer and not, actually, snow.

It has a special name here – galaverna – verna being the word for winter and gala (apparently) being not a word for a festival but, rather, a word meaning milk or milky.  So I’m told.

Anyway, it looks beautiful but it is bloody cold. As you may know, this is not my favourite time of year, especially as the offices are kept artificially cold.

Beautiful but brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Oh, by the way, I looked up the word galaverna. It means hoarfrost. I have heard the word hoarfrost but never actually knew what it meant. I thought it meant very hard frost or something. But, these days, of course, I look words up. It actually means the small ice crystals that cover everything when it’s very cold.

Would you like a great evening of entertainment and fun in Milan? Don’t miss this!

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We had booked tickets before.

Obviously, had we known that we were going to lose Rufus, we would not have gone but, in a way, it was nice just to be able to laugh and enjoy something.

And, it was wonderful, spectacular and fun.

I’m talking of the musical Priscilla (pronounced prishilla here). F was a bit worried. He hates these things being translated into Italian (apparently Mamma Mia was in the original language (good) whereas Grease had everything translated – even the songs (very, very bad, according to F)).

However, he had a voucher from his last birthday (not the one a few days ago) and it needed to be used. So we had booked for last night.

It seems some time since I went to a musical and they are incredible fun. The music was superb and I particularly like the three women who spent most of their time hanging from wires above the stage, singing their hearts out.

The costumes were unbelievably good, especially for the version of MacArthur Park.

It was only a few times where I didn’t get the jokes during the dialogue (the dialogue being in Italian – the songs remained in original language).

If you live in or near Milan, you should go.

And here is a link to a blog (in English) by the creators/producers, who brought the show to Milan

Only one thing. The theatre was about a third full. I am certain it would have more fun with a fuller theatre. Of course, it was a Tuesday night, not long after New Year but after the holidays, so maybe that was the reason. However, just before the curtain went up, we (in the cheaper seats) were encouraged to move closer – to the most expensive seats. In theory, we could have paid about €39 and been sitting in €79 seats! We both agreed that it surely would have been better to sell tickets at a lower price (even if only for these mid-week shows) so that the theatre would have been fuller.

We felt sorry for the company who put their heart into the whole thing. I think everyone in the audience clapped extra hard to try to make up for the fact that we were so few.

But it was really fabulous. Please go. I can guarantee a truly enjoyable evening’s entertainment and you should know every song.

I would give it five stars.

And here, as it’s one of F’s favourite songs (and one of the highlights of the show), is MacArthur Park –

(p.s. the version in Milan, to me, was even better than this one even if the stage was smaller)

I’m concentrating on practical stuff.

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Everything’s kinda a bit fluid right now.

Having made the ‘decision’ and then being unsure, yesterday afternoon made the decision definite. In the end, I broached the subject with F. He asked what we would do with the body. I said I would leave it with the vet. He said no, we should have the ashes because Rufus needs a tome. Well, when he said it it sounded like tome but in fact he meant tomb, of course. Still, it made me smile – inwardly since smiling outwardly would have been very incorrect – and neither did I, on this occasion, correct his pronunciation.

But, in fact, he doesn’t mean tomb either. I’m pretty sure that what he wants is an urn with the ashes. It’s a concession I’m OK with.

He also told me that, when it comes time for Dino, I am not to tell him at all but just do it. Of course, Dino, he wants stuffed! Anyway, that’s 10 years away so who knows?

We are in Italy.

I woke up about 4 a.m. and couldn’t sleep. I got up and researched pet cremation in Italy. Surprisingly enough, it’s not that difficult. I found two places almost immediately. They collect, do their thing and return the ashes to you.

So, this morning, after I had taken them for a walk, I went to the vet. I had questions. Do they do a cremation and return ashes service? How much does it cost? If not or it’s too expensive, can they keep the animal while the other service comes to collect? How much does that cost?

Yes, they can do it but it’s very expensive – €400. No, they couldn’t keep it but they would give it back for me (to carry home – which is not ideal – dead animals always seem heavier, somehow). Just to do the putting down would cost €100.

I come back home and check out the services I had found last night. Yes, one of them costs €200 (plus €20 for delivery of the urn). They need 12 hours notice for collection.

So, the end result was €400 or €320 (with me carrying him home). I’m going with the first. F said he would pay but I won’t let him.

Oh, yes, and they can only do it on Monday. So, I will have to take a day off work. Ah well, it has to be.

I am so much more tolerant with Rufus now. He’s been getting treats. I let him off the lead in the dog areas and he’s allowed to eat kakka if he wants (it makes no difference now), we walk always at his pace (except when crossing roads if I can’t help it). He is getting lots of patting and stroking. He has been a wonderful dog. But he stays very close now. I think he has had enough, if you see what I mean.

But, is it wrong of me, I am looking forward to getting a new puppy sometime in the near future? I say it’s for Dino, of course. But, I think, secretly, it’s for me too. And, maybe, it’s also a way to look beyond Monday? Yes, I think it’s that.

The vet doesn’t think it’s a good idea to bring Dino too. However, I think I will. I want Dino to understand that Rufus is not coming home. Otherwise, he will always look for him. Like he looks for F.

I’ve emailed V and I’ll do it again. But I’m not expecting any response. It’s OK.

And we get to spend the weekend with Rufus.

In other news, yesterday, I finally got keys to F’s flat. This is a) just in case he loses or forgets his and b) in case he needs me to go there for something if he is away. And, I guess, because he loves me. From Monday, someone is coming to stay at his flat so he will be staying with me – for a month or so. In reality, of course, it makes no difference since he does, more or less, stay here all the time anyway. Still, it’s good that he is, although I’m possibly not as excited about those two things as I would have normally been but I think you can understand.

Wonderful time and fantastic surprises.

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Well, I suppose I’d better start by wishing my faithful readers a glorious and happy 2012. And to say sorry for not posting over the festive period.

Christmas was, as expected, wonderful, even if I did wake on Christmas morning with what seemed like ‘flu. I ignored it. I felt much better by Wednesday.

So the highlights were:

The best present I got from F was not the vaporetto (steam cleaner) that F was so delighted with giving me but the snow globe with the pictures of the dogs inside. Don’t get me wrong, the vaporetto is wonderful but I think that if I tell you that F’s excited question (as if a small boy with a new toy) later on Christmas Day of ‘Shall we use the vaporetto now?’ you will agree that nothing more needs to be said.

V’s Dad phoned me on Christmas Day. It was such a nice surprise and I was speechless. They never phone. They hardly ever phoned when V and I were together and so it was such a wonderful ‘present’. His Mum phoned on New Year’s Day to wish me Happy New Year. So nice of them.

On Christmas Day we cooked together most of the morning and ate together most of the afternoon. I couldn’t have wished for anything better (well, I suppose I could have wished for no ‘flu – but I’m not complaining). We opened presents, we had fun.

Of course, not everything was perfect over the period. I learnt that he really doesn’t have patience and also that he really doesn’t like the fact that I won’t argue with him – but really! A light in the bathroom, overcooked lentils, not being able to fit the roasting net over the cotechino, not being perfectly ready in time for our New Year’s Eve guests – none of these things are actually important things. Well, not to me, anyway. The light in the bathroom deserves it’s own post. Oh yes, and in addition to the lack of patience and me not arguing, one could add that he doesn’t listen to me – but then, that’s not really new :-)

I know that, for a lot of people, they are glad to see the back of 2011 but not me. It was a wonderful year and one of the happiest I’ve ever had. I hope that 2012 will be the same both for me and for all you out there.

And, whatever else there may be, we will have candlelight.

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You’ve probably gathered from my posts that this year, this Christmas, is very different from the others. Among other things, although I will be doing some shopping on Christmas Eve, I have already done quite a bit.

Apart from the fact that I’ve certainly got the ‘Christmas spirit’, F has definitely got it. And that is making this period even better for me.

“I need candlesticks”, he said a few days ago.

“I have some”, I replied.

“No, not those. I need some short ones. And some candles”

I didn’t argue even if I have candles too. When he has an idea about how he wants something to be, it’s best to let him get on with it.

And so, last night, he came with bags. Bags of candlesticks and candles. Apparently, there will be a LOT of candles at Christmas.

We start with candlesticks. He showed me. It was a simple, couple-of-inches, glass candlestick. I liked it.

“I’ve got six of these”, he adds. And a ton of candles.

I’m not entirely sure of his idea but I think all six will be used.

And, he informed me, he had invited a couple round for New Year. And we invited another couple a couple of days ago. If everyone comes, it will be quite busy but neither of us expect that.

But, at least we’ll have candles everywhere!

Thank God or I possibly wouldn’t even be here!

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I’ve mentioned them before. The homeless people you see on the streets of Milan. The crazy woman with her designer gear (sort of); the black immigrants with nowhere to go; the old men with the beards or the disabled with no hope except to show off their deformity like they were in some 18th Century circus.

And I often think – there but for the grace of God go I – since I know it doesn’t take much to fall off the social ladder – no job = no home = no chances.

But, thank God or gods or whoever it is in whom you believe, I’m not there – otherwise I probably wouldn’t be there at all but, rather, six feet under.

A thought for those without the festive fun at Christmas or, more importantly, without their own home, for whatever reason it may be. Life isn’t always fair or just. But no one, surely, deserves to be without a roof over their heads?