Monthly Archives: April 2009

Ache = Pain = Cramps

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I’ve been a long time out of the UK. I am sure my English suffers. Certainly I don’t know, nor how to use, the new slang; the current popular words (I can’t tell you what they are as I don’t know them, obviously – but I know they will exist).

But it came to me this morning that, here, at least, I have noticed a change in my use of some words. When I was a kid, we had, as kids do from time to time, stomach ache.

After I had left home and, eventually became (or thought I became) ‘grown up’ the things changed from ache to pain. No longer would one have such a thing as ‘stomach ache’ but rather ‘stomach pain’.

Recently (and perhaps this is because I mix with Canadians, Americans and the like), the term has changed, yet again. Stomach Cramps are the thing to have.

Is this the same in the UK or has this latest change come about because of my mixing with the ‘wrong people’? :-)

The Ties That Bind – Restrictive or Welcome?

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Since moving to the Perfect Flat, when taking Rufus and Dino out late at night, for their last walk, I walk to the area that I always used which has two dog areas, fenced, where they can be let off the lead

In doing so, I walk up the Perfect Street and every time I pass the Indian restaurant, the Rajput. This is the one that was closest to our old flat and is, more or less, the same distance from the Perfect Flat.

The meal is quite nice, if a little less spicy than it would be in the UK. Normally, of course, I would not have walked past it at all, were it not for the move. And, in passing it late in the evening, I had such a hankering for going there.

Now, there are three people that either know that place or would be very happy going there for a meal. One is a friend who used to live with us but is now living in London and has just had a baby; the other is our friend who spends most of her time in Rome; and then there is V.

So, my craving became an obsession within two evenings and I knew I just HAD to go. So I texted V and suggested it. He was all for it and, Friday night, we went. It was a strange thing. He seemed a bit ‘off’ at the beginning but we had a nice meal and a nice evening, talking about crap and this and that. Nothing heavy, of course. We finished the meal with Sambuca (I really must stop drinking that poison) and I said that I had a bottle at home. He said he’d rather not come over. We walked out of the restaurant and walked down the road. He didn’t turn off as expected and then said he had changed his mind about the Sambuca!

He was very complimentary about the flat, even if it did seem a real mess (to me, anyway). The strange thing was that I didn’t have the urge to have him stay. I mean, this was my place and not his nor shared and so, when he left it seemed so right and natural. Not really what I expected (from myself).

I promised to go round the next day, later, to bring back some stuff that I had but he wanted; to help with the cleaning of the old place, to take some of my stuff away.

After I had taken the dogs out a couple of times, unpacked and tried to place things, etc. it got quite late. By the time I got there he had, more or less, done everything. And, I have to say he had, as he always had in the past, made a good job of it. It looked lovely in spite of missing some furniture.

We chatted, drank some wine and then I left. I realised, whilst I was there, that I had not taken pans and said that I quite fancied having pasta on Sunday so would come back on Sunday to collect some.

Sunday and, because I had to try and get most things unpacked as FfI was returning to Milan and, for various reasons, was going to stay at mine, I didn’t go round as early as I had hoped.

In the meantime, I got a text from V asking that, if I wanted, he would cook some pasta for dinner. I agreed. It sounded nice.

So, later, in the early evening, I went round (again taking some more bits that were, really, V’s). He had made an experimental pasta dish and then chicken with roasted potatoes. We drank the bottle of Barolo that he had been saving. We listened to Maria Callas. All in all a very nice evening, except that both of us (me for all the unpacking and he for all the cleaning and moving stuff around) were so shattered that it was not a late evening.

He promised me a proper meal when he was paid. He asked (again) about my birthday as Best Mate will be here and he thinks that she hates him (which she does not). He seems to have forgotten that we already had a conversation about this. He seems reluctant to meet with Best Mate and I. I do understand and I am sure I would feel the same. Indeed, for different reasons, I would be very reluctant to go out to a place where his work colleagues were.

When I left it did not seem so strange, leaving the place we shared for over four years although, as I was getting in the lift, him leaning against the door post, there seemed a little sadness in his face, which made me feel sad, for a moment, for him and for us. But, maybe I was just imagining it.?

Anyway, there are no words that can really describe this whole thing. We have had, since I moved out, more conversation between us than we did in the last four months! And, to be honest, I enjoy his company; he’s a nice guy; funny, witty, always something to say. It was, at the same time, slightly strange and not strange at all, sitting at the table (our table?), eating the food he had prepared (food I had bought?), drinking the wine, talking and laughing – again, nothing heavy.

He’s much thinner of course. He looks more like his father now – slightly hollowed cheeks and almost with an anorexic look – it makes him look older, somehow, but no less attractive, of course.

I expect the heavy conversations are yet to come but, for now, it’s really nice. The ties are still strong but, maybe a little thinner than before – or maybe we’re using different rope now?  More importantly, will it change once he has moved?

On holiday in a different city.

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The street is long and straight. I pass the local café, the sun is shining and it’s quite warm. I pass the small supermarket – the same as the one I used to use a lot, but tiny. I pass a Tuscan restaurant that must be new. I stop to look at the menu. Maybe I’ll try it some time. As usual, Tuscan restaurants are more expensive than most Italian restaurants.

A store owner/manager is in the doorway of his shop, having a cigarette and comments on how pretty the dogs are. He talks to a woman that he obviously knows, about how nice they are. Of course, it is the first time they have seen them. I walk on, past the dry cleaners, the card shop (which, as usual, sells children’s toys and tat).

I look at everything with a different view. This is like a small community. It seems that many people know each other. It seems like a small town.

I am, in fact, in the street that is parallel to the street on which I used to live. I know this street (or, rather, I thought I knew this street). It is the Perfect Street. Except, I never used to stroll down here on a daily basis. And now it is different. It is The Perfect Street – but it is completely different from how it was. I am on a street that is one street away from where I lived (one block for my American readers) and, yet, it feels as if I am in a completely different city. It is all new; the people are new; no one has seen the dogs before; the shops are small and the whole thing has this “village” feel. How could I not know this before?

But, not only am I in a different city, I am also on holiday.

n the past, you would go on holiday to a small cottage or caravan. Everything would be as it was in your house, except smaller. The fridge was smaller: the cooker had two or three rings and was tiny: even the sink was cute. Of course, you couldn’t live there for long and it was always great to get back home with the “full-sized” stuff.

Well, it’s not quite like that but, compared to the last place, it is kinda small – cute, one might say – and so, with it feeling like a different city when I step out of the door and the feeling of being in some sort of holiday cottage, it does feel a bit like actually being on holiday somewhere.

My only concern is – once the holiday feeling has worn off in a few weeks, will I still like living here?

Bits and bobs

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No unpacking last night. More of trying to get the ADSL working. V managed to get the modem/router working without me having to go back over (I had been to collect some more stuff), so that was good.

However, there are a couple of things that, right now, I really, really like.

The first is the silence. There is no sound. I can (and do) sit at the kitchen table with complete silence surrounding me (except for the dogs claws clipping on the concrete floors). Once I get my WiFi working, I can imagine sitting at that table doing my blogging, etc.

The other was, whilst taking the dogs for a walk last night, just round the corner from mine is a street that has, most of the way down, a series of ‘front gardens’, most of which have wisteria overhanging the fence and, last night, even if it was a little cooler after the thunderstorms, the perfume of the flowers was so beautiful, wisteria being one of my favourites.

And I truly love the flat. It still needs to be sorted and I definitely need a handy-man to come and fix some things for me and I do need to get rid of the boxes but……. it feels like home and I just know I will be really happy here. It is, after all The Perfect Flat On The Perfect Street!

The flat is like a tardis; A strange thing about moving into a new place (in Italy).

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Of course, it’s not all over yet. I mean, it’s not like the ‘moving out’ is the final thing and today is the first day of the rest of my life (although it is, of course).

No, in the end, there were many things that I forgot, left behind, etc. Was this a subconscious decision on my part to ensure I had to keep going back? Or was this, as I suspect, just plain laziness/running out of time?

So, I took the modem/router but, with my new, not-working, Alice system, I don’t need it (the Telecom guy said that, in fact, I can’t use it! I think he’s lying). So, tonight, after a I go and pick up some shoes and other stuff, I shall be returning the modem and setting it up for V in the half-empty flat that, even as I was leaving it, felt too large for a family of four, let alone two. Or, maybe, I have become (a little) Italian?

Or, maybe, my new flat is just like a tardis? After all, empty, it seemed tiny. Before, with her stuff in it it seemed quite big. Now, with my stuff in it seems even bigger. How on earth can that be?

And there’s a strange thing about Italians and flats for rent. I have mentioned this before but it is quite common for people, on leaving a rented flat, to take the kitchen they have installed. In this case the kitchen is not all that great but, at least, it’s there. Together with (not brilliant but not bad) fridge; good, but small washing machine and adequate cooker – and sink and drainer (which most of you, outside Italy, would take for granted anyway). Certainly all the light fittings are taken – even the bulbs. This means that, until I find all my lamps (major hunt going on tonight) and then buy some light fittings (and get someone to fit them), I am walking around with one lamp and my mobile phone. The mobile phone being used instead of a torch to find the socket into which I may plug my lamp!

I did think that there were not that many light fittings available anyway. In fact, I could not remember any. However, I now find there is at least one in all rooms except the bedroom where there is none. However, none of the ‘fittings’ have anything except wire – I mean no actual light/bulb/fitting – just bare wire. This means that I need light fittings AND someone to fit them, me never being happy with messing about with electricity, especially if on my own. V always did this stuff.

And, therefore, I may take the wall lights from the lounge that we fitted and one or two other ceiling lights. V had offered. I had thought about asking him to come and fit them but I think that may be a bit much and would, but maybe only in my mind, mean he has a ‘hold’ on the place – just because he was ‘involved’ in setting it up. Crazy? Maybe, but I do want this to be my place.

So, at least for the next few days, I shall be returning to ‘collect’ some things and to ‘return’ some things that the removal men packed because I couldn’t watch them all the time.

As you see, it is not ‘over’. However, maybe things will change when he’s moved out? Or, maybe, they will be the same or similar?

Moving; Dino steals packing tape; other things

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Well, it’s now Thursday as I wished. And, to be honest, I’m glad that yesterday is over even if everything is not perfectly sorted.

However, I do not have internet access right now. It is a post all on its own, so I will save it until later.

Yesterday was the whole range of emotions. I woke at four. Dozed until 5.45. Got to bed just after midnight. I am quite tired, as I’m sure you can imagine.

I went round to the flat the night before and had absolute panic as it was SO SMALL! So much so that I could not imagine how everything would fit in. This is part of the reason I was awake at four. I was going through different scenarios – would I have to get them to take some of it away; would I be able to sleep on the bed or would that be impossible – the place being stacked floor to ceiling with boxes.

The removal company arrived. I was, by this time going completely insane with worry, panic and about every other emotion you could imagine.

Dino, I found when I was packing some days earlier, really liked the sound of the packing tape being pulled out. You know, it makes that kind of screech (for want of a word that isn’t in my head) and it must be a particular pitch that he liked or, at least, found fascinating. First, as I was stretching the tape out to put over a box, he would be there, right in my face. A couple of times, if I put it on the floor or chair or something low enough for him to reach, I would turn round and find that it was suddenly gone and would then be trying to find Dino to retrieve it.

The removal men did quite a bit of packing, including putting protective packaging around pieces of furniture. Obviously, they were not, immediately, aware of Dino’s fascination. Until, after a very short while, Dino found that they were much more fun as they kept putting down a roll of tape within his reach, usually, on the floor. And so it became a game for him of trying to get hold of a roll of tape.

The men found this very funny and endearing. I spent nearly all my time, when not explaining something to the men, checking to see where Dino was and retrieving the roll of tape from him to give back to them.

And once, I actually saw him doing it – he was watching the man who was pulling out the tape; like any good thief, as the man put the tape down, he edges round a little so that he wasn’t going for the tape directly, then he almost crept forward, until he was there by the roll; snatching it quickly he then high-tailed it as fast as he could out of the room and to his bed! I watched him do this and couldn’t help but laugh. He’s not really a stupid dog, after all!

I did ask the removal men, several times, if they wanted me to shut him away but they seemed quite in love with him. They thought the stealing of the rolls of tape was quite funny too. Dino had many strokes and compliments during the morning. I left them (the dogs) in the old flat whilst moving into the new one as it was/is much smaller and I wouldn’t be able to shut them away anywhere. One of the men seemed quite disappointed that he wasn’t with me! Anyway, they do not seemed stressed at all.

By the afternoon I felt quite a lot better. Not only did all the stuff fit in (and I was able to sleep in my bed) but I now know it will be fantastic when everything is sorted. And, although there are lots of boxes, not as many as I thought. In fact, as they were finishing, I couldn’t believe it was all the stuff and asked them! To which they replied that it was! They also liked the new flat. Later A&F came round (last night) (I needed A to help with the internet connection) and they both said it was lovely but I think F really liked it as she said it was exactly the sort of place that she liked.

One problem, or, rather, potential problem, is that, the only door that actually closes shut is the one to the bathroom! Lets’ see how that goes but I may have to do something very fast to keep the boys separate whilst I am not in the house! I’ll let you know.

Internet? What’s that?

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So, V was supposed to move out before me.

Conversation – 1 or 2 nights ago.

A – They’re closing the gas, electricity and telephone.

V – Well, I don’t want the telephone.

A – But, that means no email or internet.

V – Oh.  Then I need it.

I’m not sure exactly how he’s going to manage without me.

(But, to be honest, I don’t know how I will manage without him either – for other things, obviously)

Flaky friends.

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I feel better – from time to time. I wish it were Thursday.

In the meantime, flaky friends aren’t helping. Some just made general offers of help (so I can’t blame them really) and others specifically arranged appointments and told me not to worry ‘cos they would be there.

But they’re not.

Incredible! So now I’m certainly on my own (oh, yes, with a load of people who are the actual movers).

But that’s tomorrow.

I did receive some good news at work, so that’s something. And the weather is still good and it should stay like this for tomorrow, which will be very good. At least my stuff won’t get wet!