Cartwheels

Posted on by
2

I could have turned cartwheels, there and then!

I went over to his old flat.  He was packing.  Still.  Although he had packed a lot.  He had said to me that the place looked like a bomb [had hit it].  And it was true.

Boxes and bags were everywhere.  He was struggling.  What to pack?  What not to pack? Only one box left – so what needed to be done now and what could wait until later.  Several times he had said he was worried about the new flat being too small.  I said it would be OK.  What else could I say?

But, by the time I got there, I could see that he was quite unhappy.

‘This is why I said we could not move in together’, he said, his voice trembling and obviously upset.  ‘I don’t ever want to do this again’.  He rubs his hands on his head.  It almost seems like he is going to cry.  I want to go over and hold him and reassure him and cuddle him and take all the pain and anguish away.  I don’t as I know that he would push me away – he’s right in the middle of packing – there will be time for that later.

‘I know’, I replied, ‘I DO understand’, thinking of only last night and the comment about me finding a flat for him in my building and knowing that, right now, with the trauma that this is causing him, he is not really thinking straight but only from moment to moment.

‘I wish I could help you more’, I said, meaning every word but knowing that there was nothing I could do.  This was his thing and I had to let him do it in his way.  The only thing I could and can do is to be patient and understanding, which is what I am trying to be.

‘I’m sorry for you’, he said at another time.  ‘It’s OK’, I replied, ‘don’t worry about me’.

‘One day is good and the next day is bad’, he added, to explain the roller-coaster that he is currently on – but it needed no explanation.  ‘You don’t need to say ‘sorry”, I replied, ‘I understand and I’m still here, aren’t I?’

And I did understand and he doesn’t need to say sorry – not for anything.  And I think he appreciates the fact that I am there and with him, even if I can do nothing.  I don’t want him to feel totally alone in all this and I think he doesn’t want to feel that either and I think, from what he says, that it does help that I am there, just to be there and to be someone that he can cuddle and kiss when he needs it.

‘If you don’t mind’, he adds later, before we leave his flat, ‘I will stay with you until the 18th (when the wardrobe and bed are delivered) and I can go from work to the new flat and tidy and organise and then come over to yours.’

‘Sure’, I reply, ‘I told you before, it’s not a problem at all and it’s the least I can do to help’.  It may only be for a few weeks but, for me, they will be weeks of “almost perfectness”.

But that was the moment I could have turned cartwheels.

In which I learnt how to pack CDs

Posted on by
3

Being as old as I am and having moved quite a number of times, you would think that I may know a little about packing up.  It seems not.

Best Mate asked me if there was anything about F that wasn’t perfect.  The thing that comes to mind (although now, at this stage in our relationship, I just find it funny and not a problem) is his obsessiveness with tidiness and cleanliness.  And it is an obsession, believe me.

Put it this way.  Last night we spent the night at mine.  This morning he said that, if I didn’t mind, he would be spending most nights here as it would be impossible for him to remain at his flat with everything being packed and, therefore, everything not immaculately and perfectly ordered.  And it’s so true, I know that much about him.

I want to help him with the packing.  Not only because I want to help him but also because I can see how the fact that things are now ‘getting done’ towards the move and the fact that we will be so much closer is making him so much happier.  Of course, that makes me very happy too.

And, so, one of things that I can do is pack his 2000+ CDs.  However, it’s not as easy as it seems.  To do this he has bags.  However, instead of showing me the bags and saying ‘get on with it’ he felt that he should show me how it should be done.

More or less, of course, the have to be packed in the ‘right order’ – i.e. the order in which they are currently in the racks.  To show me this he, almost, packed a whole bag!  There were three columns of CDs stacked and then a few that we slipped down the side.  Who knew that it could be so difficult? :-D

So I packed a few bags whilst he sorted out his shoes and then cleaned the ones he was taking.  Cleaned, of course, because he doesn’t want to clean them in the new flat.  It does make sense although I would be in such a hurry to pack that I wouldn’t do that (didn’t do that).  I learnt the other night, when R&Al came over for dinner, that, about once a month he takes his 2000+ CDs and cleans every single cover!

Last night was wonderful.  The Zampone and lentils were great.  The time we had together was perfect.  As a start to 2010 I could not ask for anything better.  And it’s so nice to know that he feels the same as I do, even if he shows it in slightly different ways.

During our conversation over dinner he was saying how much he liked my flat.  Although he pointed out that if he had something this big it would be so easy to put ‘in order’.  He said that in the spring he would ‘help me’ to reorganise the flat.  I did say that it made me a little scared – and we laughed, of course!  But there is an element of truth in that.

He also said that, in the next year or so I should keep an eye out if there were other flats in this building available.  For just a moment I thought he meant to look for something bigger for both of us.  Thank goodness I didn’t say anything.  He meant that I should look for one as he would like a bigger flat and would like one like mine!  OK, I thought, but, with every move it’s getting closer.

And, then, on his way out to his flat this morning (to continue packing) he said the thing about staying at mine more often.  Of course, I wanted to say ‘move in, why don’t you?’ but I didn’t as I knew it wasn’t the right thing to say.  This thing is just one step at a time.  Last night, in bed, we were talking about something and I made a half-joke about us taking it slowly and he said that I wasn’t taking it slowly and I replied that it takes two.

And he knew that was true.

Le Vent Du Nord; New Year’s Food Feast

Posted on by
2

Last night, F, along with Al (of the R&Al fame) and another friend went to see Loretta Goggi. As she does a bit of singing but also a bit of comedy, etc. F said that, maybe I shouldn’t go as it would be too difficult for me. In this case, I agreed with him. I mean, if it were just music or if it were a film (with a plot) then that’s one thing – a stand-up/cabaret act is another thing entirely and I didn’t want to spoil his enjoyment by being there and him feeling he had to explain everything.

And so, as this had been arranged some time ago, R suggested we go out for dinner whilst they were at the show.

The other friend’s girlfriend, Ale was with us too. She is really nice and I like her a lot. We had quite a lot in common – mainly food-wise.

Anyway, on to the restaurant, which is why I’m posting this post. It’s called Le Vent Du Nord and is, apparently, Belgian. One good thing about Belgian places is the beer – and that was certainly true of this place. The one I chose was superb. Belgian beer has a particular taste, very malty, and I like it a lot.

But this place is one of the places to go for mussels (moules). I chose Moules Marinieres and it was, quite honestly, fabulous! Cooked to perfection and so tasty. Ale chose some other version. After we had finished, we both wanted a little more and so were going to get one between us – unfortunately, it was their last night before closing for a week and so they had no more left. Whilst we understood, we were, to say the least, a little disappointed.

Apart from the food and drink the evening was really nice.

And, I think, Ale and I could be firm friends.

If you like mussels (they do other things too, including meat) and Belgian beer then this is, certainly, a place to go in Milan, even if it is a little bit of a trek from the centre itself. In the end a couple of beers each, the moules, a sweet and, for two of us, a digestivo only cost 25€ per head – great value, I think you would agree.

The service was excellent. All-round, a great restaurant.

R dropped me home and I did the dogs. F rang after he had come out of the show and picked me up in a taxi and we spent the night at his place as he is working as I write.

Tonight we are just us, here, at my flat, being a little Italian with a little left-over shepherd’s pie (obviously NOT Italian) and zampone with lentils which I adore. Always eaten at New Year as the lentils mean wealth. Zampone is pigs trotter filled with some sort of meat stuffing – a little like a large sausage but more glutinous. It would never sell in the UK but you should try it if you get the chance as it really is scrumptious!

And, on that note, I wish all my readers a very, very Happy New Year.

La Belle Aurore – great bar and great lunchtime food.

Posted on by
2

For the first time, I ate in the La Belle Aurora Café in Via Abamonti on the corner with Via Castel Morrone.

F left the house early and, because I would have had to get up to lock the door, finally, he took one of the keys.  I told him to and he said no and I said that if he didn’t I would have to get up – and so he did!  Hurrah!  And now all I need to do is get another front door key and give that to him!

Anyway, he got up early because IKEA were delivering some units for the new flat.  And then, after, I went over and helped him put them up.  We finished about 1.30 and went for lunch.  The other day we had happened in La Belle Aurora for a very late breakfast and they were serving lunch, which also smelt good.  So today, as the café is, sort of, about halfway between his place and mine, we went there.

F had a risotto with peas and asparagus (which I tasted and it was really good) and I had roast pork with an orange sauce and puree (mashed potato to you folks not in Italy).  We also had a German beer which I forget the name of.  The food, limited to a single primo and single secondo, was excellent.  The whole lot came to less than 15 Euro.  Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure they only do food at lunchtimes but for those of you who visit Milan and go to Il Salvagente (the oldest outlet store in Milan), it’s worth a walk up there should you want a break at lunchtime.  Alternatively, if you’re seeing or staying with me, we should definitely go as it’s less than 10 minutes from my home.

This café/bar has a wonderful atmosphere.  It feels kinda French.  The tables and chairs are old, wooden and have seen better days but that is all part of it’s charm.  The staff were good (as they always are).  I was struck by the crowd of people.  They were a mixture but you had the feel of being on the left bank of the Seine rather than downtown Milan – like they really could be writers, artistes or intellectuals.

I’ve always liked this bar.  And the food did not disappoint. In fact it was all rather good and very tasty.

Whilst we were putting up the units, we finally decided that we would spend the New Year alone, at my place, even if we have had several offers for parties and dinners.  F said that he would ‘really like if it were just the two of us, with the dogs.  And, so would I.  But it was still nice to hear him say it.

Last night, whilst we were at his place having dinner and he was on the phone, between courses, I looked at him and thought how really cool and sexy he was and what an overall nice guy he is and, therefore, how lucky I was to have ended up with him.

And now it’s taken for granted that we spend the nights together (the only discussion being about where), except for certain situations (like he’s away, etc.) and I like that we have slipped easily into this routine and that it feels warm and comfortable and I’m pretty sure he feels the same.

And, every day that I am with him, I am truly grateful for how my life can be so good.

It’s like stepping through a portal into the Dark Ages.

Posted on by
2

It’s a simple thing, really. I want to pay a bill. I have my bank account details and their bank account details. I need to make the payment today.

In the UK, I would go to a (any) branch of my bank and make the payment (if it wasn’t online). This would be a simple thing. They would check, via computer, that I had enough funds. They would make the payment by the computer. I may have to sign something or use my bank card. The payment would be made and, within a couple of days (or the same day if the same bank) the payment would be done. Easy.

Ma, siamo in Italia (but, we are in Italy). I go to the nearest bank. The same bank as mine but a different branch. No, they can’t do it. But they can send the slip that I fill in, to my branch, who will make the payment. Or I can pay it by cash and then they can do it from there. This, I remind you, is the same bank, with branches all over the North of Italy (maybe, even, all of Italy!). It’s just not my branch.

OK then, I say, can I withdraw the money from my account and do it that way. Apparently not. You see, my money is only at the branch I have the current account with. But, what she can do, if I fill in the form, is to fax the form to my bank and they will do it today.  Fax!  Perhaps carrier pigeon would make the whole system run faster.

Wait, I think, they have computers.  But, not, it can’t be done.  So, I ask myself, what is the point in banking with a ‘nationwide’ bank if you can’t do much except withdraw money from the cash machines?

However, I really need to pay it and so I fill in the form. She telephones my branch to confirm that I have a current account there (I wonder what is the point in computers here?) and asks for the fax number so that she can fax it through.

So, she will, by now, have faxed it through. Someone at my branch will have typed it into the computer and then the payment will be made in God knows how many days.

And then I went outside to withdraw money from the cash machine – which, if I didn’t have enough money in the account, wouldn’t have let me have it.

I am puzzled as to how this country actually works at all. Sometimes, it’s like stepping through a portal into the Dark Ages.

You did your best

Posted on by
6

The days all blur into one but I think it was Christmas Day.

I’m cooking the ‘chicken’ thing, etc.  I wash up a few things as the kitchen isn’t that big and, anyway, F is on the computer.  I go and sit with him and he asks, ‘Have you washed up?’  He is obsessed with ‘clean’ and ‘perfect’ (just check out my Farm on Farmville – he did it and you can see that it’s very ‘organised’ and tidy).

I reply that I had.  He looks over.

‘You did your best’, he says.  Bastard!  But he still makes me laugh :-)

I go Christmas Shopping (finally)

Posted on by
Reply

Milan is Milan.  It is raining in the way that I have only really experienced here.  Heavy, wet, miserable.

And, yet, it’s not for me.  There is a sea of waving umbrellas.  Waving because as the people move to and fro, they have to move their umbrellas.  The rain is unforgiving.  I move through the people with a lot of serenity.  I have decided that THIS, this moment, this time, is the best for Christmas.  I left the house at 5 p.m.  The streets are crowded but not too bad.  Partly it is the weather, partly because, this evening is the big dinner for the Italians, so what the hell would they be doing out of their house except to be getting ready to go or actually going to friends or relatives?

We, too, shall be going to friends for dinner.  It is R’s birthday.

I don’t know them well enough and, so, have made his favourite English desert – Lemon Meringue Pie – as a kind of present (although F & I are giving him something, as a joint present, chosen by F, of course).  I started to get everything ready earlier.  And then I realised I had a small problem.  I had no scales.  No means of weighing anything!  And, for me, I can only do recipes with exact measurements.

>But I had no time to go and find scales and so I guessed.  It seems OK, but I really hope it is.  We shall see and I shall let you know.  It’s the pastry that worries me the most.  And that is usually something I do really well.

So, back to where I was.  In Corso Buenos Aires, with only the vaguest of ideas as to what to buy my loved one, who I have not known for long enough to be able to get certain things.  I walk, calmly up the street.  Not hurrying but not idling either. The rain, straight down, as Milan rain is.

My first shop is a disaster.  I thought they would have scented candles but, no!  Still, I have about an hour.  I should be able to find the stuff I need in that time.

I love it.  The place is almost busy but the tills are almost empty.  It’s a fabulous time to be doing Christmas shopping.  I thought it was only for V because V was easy and I could walk into shops and know, within seconds, if there was anything that was suitable.  But I find that this is not so difficult.  I am limited only in what I can buy, but what I can buy there is enough of and so choosing is not so difficult.

I find everything that I had thought of whilst walking.  They’re not big things and some are not at all expensive (downright cheap, actually) but perfect – or, as perfect as they can be.

I am happy.  It is the only bit of Christmas shopping I have done but I think I might do this every year!

I go to the supermarket for (I think) one last thing.  F calls me.  He wants to change the arrangements.  He thinks (and he is right) it will be easier to stay at mine tonight.  That’s what we’re going to do.  This makes it easier for me and gives me this chance to enjoy a hot cup of Tetley’s tea before showering and getting ready.  On the way back from the supermarket I go, on the off chance, to a shop to buy the perfect, small, irrelevant but perfect gift.  Yep, this was the best way of shopping for Christmas.  And without any stress or hassle.

I have to wrap the presents in a moment but that won’t take long either.  I hope he likes the things even if some of them are quite stupid.  Still, they were bought with love.

I have decided I will call V tomorrow.  Just to wish him Happy Christmas after our exchange of emails today.  I think I owe him that.  And, maybe, to find out how his Yorkshire Puddings turned out – I had sent the recipe by email, since I have the cookbook it was in.

But that is an aside, since, really, this Christmas belongs to F.  Well, for me anyway.  And, I very much hope, for him too.

A new life and a new forever.

Posted on by
2

“I really miss you”, he says through the sobs.

Part of me wants to say that he wouldn’t be here, in this place, if he hadn’t wanted something else.  It makes me angry.  Part of me just wants to go to his place and give him a big hug and tell him that everything will be alright – even if it’s not with me.  But the other side, the angry side, thinks that he threw away 20 years – and for what?

I go to the bedroom.  F is lying on the bed.  I feel guilty for having been talking to V.  Especially as F will probably realise who I am talking to.  I say nothing about the phone call.  It’s as if it has never happened.  Yes, he knows.  But I am here with him.  I give him a kiss.  I love him, now, not V.  Well, I love V too – after 20 years how can I not?  But F is the one that I love with passion, with that heart-stopping love.

I, too, regret that, the last Christmas, as the song goes, he broke my heart and so this Christmas, I’ve given it to someone special.  But this Christmas is already great and wonderful and full of love.

V had called because he wanted to hear me because he and Ig had broken up.  I feel so bad for him but you can’t go back.  He can’t go back.  I’ve already moved forward and we’re now on different roads.  And that is life.  Or, rather, that is the life he chose to make.  For without Turin a few years back and events after that, he wouldn’t have to be missing me at all.  And, I’m sorry for that but in an arm’s length kind of way.

Sorry for him and sorry for the life we had, which I thought was forever.  But now I have a new life and a new forever.

Last Christmas – Wham!

And, in case I don’t get to write another post, I wish you all a very Happy Christmas.  Enjoy and have fun and may you all be as lucky as me, now, and in the future.

I am a little confused; We all change, apparently

Posted on by
2

“I need to know how to get the comments posted in the same way as they are on your blog?”, F asks me.

I am astounded by the fact that he knew about the blog (not that it would be difficult) and also that he has said nothing up to now.

Thoughts race through my head.  What has he read?  How long has he been reading?  Has what he has read made a difference as to how he feels about me, given that I have been, sort of, quite open about how I feel?  Why hasn’t he said anything?  Is he angry or not?  What should I reply to his question?

Of course, he knows about blogs.  He’s signed up to one.  The one that his boss does.  But that’s about work.

I think: How stupid am I not to have told him.

I think: But what if he asks me to take it down?  How can I?  It’s part of me, it’s something I just HAVE to do.  And, although I can be anonymous somewhere else I can’t (or is that don’t want to be) too anonymous.  After all it’s about my life.  It involves my friends, my life, my interests, my love.

No, it’s ‘don’t want to be’.  I don’t want to give this up.

Later.

As I get dressed I think about what I have dreamt.  For a moment I think of it as if we have really had the conversation before I realise that it just had to have been a dream.  Part of me breathes a sigh of relief.  Part of me thinks I should do something.  Part of me thinks I should leave well alone.

To put it mildly, I am a little confused.

________________________________________________________________________________

I have got some spots on the inside of my legs, around the knees.  A couple of nights ago, they were really hot.  So hot and uncomfortable, in fact, that, lying on my side I could not put my legs together.  I thought it was just something that would go away.  It hasn’t.

I told F.  He had a look.  He decided that it was because it was dry skin.  He said I needed to put some cream on it.  I was going to put some hand cream on it (as that is all I have in that line of product).  He told me no and gave me some of his body cream (I still fail to see any real difference – but what would I know?).

As I was putting it on and rubbing it in (because I so hate the feel of the skin afterwards – so greasy like, as I used to say to V, dipping yourself in chip fat), I said that I didn’t understand why it had happened as I never had this problem before now (apart from my hands but there’s a good reason for that).

“We all change” he said, in a voice that sounded more he was saying this as if a mother to a child, “I didn’t have hair when I was eight”, he added as he walked out of the bathroom.

I just laughed.

Special all the same.

Posted on by
5

In spite of the snow, the Christmas lights along Corso Buenos Aires, the Christmas decorations in the shop windows, the milling and rushing of shoppers buying their gifts, etc., it really doesn’t feel like Christmas to me.

Sure, I can talk about it here, at work, but I am struck by how unexcited I am.  OK that’s been more or less true for the last few years, I suppose.  This year, I have some excuse.  We’ve been together for too short a time to really be able to plan, to decide on things, to build up to Christmas.

I’m not sure what to expect; I don’t know how it should be; I can’t impose my Christmas (not that I want to impose it anyway) and we’re in a different country with different ideas about how it should be, sort of.

We did talk last night, a little, about Christmas Day and New year and so on.  He was talking about decorating the table for Christmas Lunch.  Anyway, this sort of thing was always V rather than me, so from that point of view, it will be much the same.  However, there’s been a lack of involvement from me in the lead up to this year’s Christmas.

It’s not that I’ve wanted to be uninvolved.  It’s just that I’ve not known exactly how it would be or what we would do, other than being together.

Last night I told him I’d bought Brussels sprouts – even if I know he won’t eat them.  He understood why.  This morning, my colleague, S, said that she had seen Nigella Lawson on the TV (I had told her about NL) and that she had done some strange things – like Bread Sauce.  Which made me think that I should do Bread Sauce anyway, as I love it – even if he won’t like it because, even if I love it, most people don’t.

I might even make the usual white sauce although this will be with panettone rather than Christmas Pudding.  Maybe I’ll suggest it?  It’s an alternative to cream or ice cream and will make the Christmas lunch just a little more like Christmas for me.

He’s planned some films that we could watch.  And, since we both like films, it could be good.  One film he said he had chosen we could watch in either Italian with English subtitles or English with Italian subtitles.

He suggested that we could spend New Year with some of my friends.  He doesn’t want to do the New Year that has been planned by his friends.  Really, I would like to do ‘something’ but I’m really not sure as I really like when we are together.  But, of course, that’s because it’s all too new.

This morning, as I left the house he asked if I had remembered the keys and would I lock the door on my way out.  Later, on FB chat, he asked if we were spending tonight at his or mine.  I replied that I would prefer mine as tomorrow night we will be at his.  He said OK.  It’s sometimes very easy.  It’s often, very comfortable.  It’s always very nice.

I am looking forward to Christmas even if, at the moment it all seems a little at arms length.  This comes, in part, of not having any history to go with it.  But, then, it’s the first and, so, will be special all the same.