Tag Archives: F Says…..

Breakthrough!

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I’ve had a bit of a breakthrough. Well, thanks to a colleague, actually.

As you know, I’ve been a bit concerned that the chewing of furniture in the lounge could pose a problem and wanted something to protect chair legs and table legs, etc. I was thinking of getting some plastic and it was suggested I could use old water bottles – the water bottles made of plastic. I could cut the top and bottoms off and then wrap the bottle round the leg.

Brilliant! Perfect! I am very happy.

Now I must drink a LOT of water because I have less than two weeks! And I don’t even LIKE water!!!

Oh yes, I forgot to tell you. Piero will be with us around 8th/9th July.

My plan is sightly different from F’s plan. F’s plan is that I go, after work, on the Monday to pick him up.

My plan is that we go together – coming back earlier from Carrara on the 8th and going straight there. I know F’s plan but F doesn’t know my plan yet.

Yet.

F’s second plan doesn’t involve me. It involves him taking Piero to work with him on his first day with us.

“But he’ll pee and poo all day!”, I exclaim.

“No problem”, replies F.

What I haven’t said is that it will also be the first time he will have been on a lead (more or less), so there’ll be lots of pulling, trying to run away and sitting down. This means the journey to work will be long and fraught. It also means that, by the time they all get to work, everyone will be tired. And then it will be time to come back :-)

I’m half inclined to let F find out for himself. Is that too cruel?

A little uncertainty

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I’ve got more to say about Vienna – but no time right now.

In the meantime, since we’ve been back, there’s a touch of uncertainty in the air. It seems F is looking for a change.

However, I have learnt that, just like V, he tends to say things that aren’t always followed through. I learnt, too, whilst in Vienna, that the problem with Brazil was that it was just too far away. Apparently. Obviously, for me it wasn’t a problem.

Now we are considering Vienna. And doing a B&B. He’s looking for a sponsor. He’s fed up with work. I’ve now heard this for three nights in a row, so maybe it’s true. We shall see. For me, it’s not a problem. I liked Vienna very much. Especially as they are a) more dog friendly; b) permit smoking in bars and restaurants (although, to be honest, I’ve got used to going outside); c) it’s cleaner than Italy (I mean no rubbish on the streets, etc.) and d) I can always teach English and do copy-editing.

As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve kind of ‘done’ Italy now – in that I’ve been here 7 years, more or less, and survived. Of course, I would be very happy to stay here but I’m equally happy to move now, even to the other side of the world and even at my advanced age. After all, new challenges might be fun.

But, as I said earlier, F can be a little like V sometimes. What he says will happen won’t always happen, so I won’t be holding my breath.

But, you know, Vienna might just be a nice place to live?

Is that I or we?

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Of course, one must be careful. Things get lost in translation. The difference between “I” and “we” is huge – to us, native speakers of English. To those to whom it is a second language, it’s not that clear cut.

However, “We can live together and save some money. Not now but soon.” and “Then we can retire here.” are quite significant. And I’m pretty sure a mistake wasn’t made.

We were (well, he was) talking about the house, here, by the sea. It needs some work to be made comfortable but could be lovely with a garden for the dogs too. He wants to do it up but a) it will cost money and b) his brother (who shares it with him) doesn’t have the money …… nor a job.

Even if I’m not as clean and tidy as he would like, I’m obviously not that bad.

It was a nice few days away, even if the weather wasn’t always that kind to us. There was the Golden Wedding Anniversary party for his parents – it was a meal in an agriturismo. There was a lot of food but I was careful not to each too much and said ‘no’ on more than one occasion (I know, I even amaze myself sometimes!). His parents knew that the children would be there but not that so many other friends and family would be there so it was (apparently because I was getting stuff out of the car at the time) a very nice surprise for them. There was a lot of emotion. F is not good with emotion, I’ve found. Still, it was a lovely party, even if the weather wasn’t so nice.

His family are lovely to me. His mum calling me ‘Wendy’ which has become ‘the joke’ with me. For some reason, she can’t say ‘Andy’. At one point she confused me with S, F’s ex. For me, it was something of a compliment. I don’t look anything like S but I am obviously thought of in much the same way – and they like him and still ask after him.

Even if we came back early because of the torrential rain on Monday, it was a lovely trip.

He was born yesterday (24/4/2012)

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One of these is Piero

Piero and brothers and sisters and Mum

Above is a picture of Piero with his brothers and sisters and his Mum. I can’t actually tell you which one is Piero since we haven’t seen them yet.

But we’re going tomorrow.

F couldn’t wait

So he phoned them because he couldn’t wait for their reply to my email :-D

He’s more excited than me :-D :-D

And I’m pretty excited.

This might turn into a blog dedicated to Piero and Dino :-)

It’s like a party out there …… and here.

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There are plenty of taxis – just none that are free for hire.

For that matter, there are plenty of cars too.

And there are plenty of people. In fact, in this street, normally fairly dead at this time of night. In spite of the fact that there are some nice hotels on the road, mostly it is shops, and the shops are closed.

And there aren’t any people, normally, since the road doesn’t really lead to anywhere to which people would want to go.

But not tonight. Or, rather, last night. Last night it was ‘buzzing’, in spite of the rain.

It is, of course, the week of the Furniture Fair – Salone Internazionali Del Mobili. Apart from the fashion weeks, one of the most important times for Milan (or maybe bigger than the fashion weeks), showcasing all that is good and great about Italian design.

Now, the main exhibition is at the Rho Fiera (the big, new exhibition centre) outside Milan.

And whilst, when it first moved, Milan became a bit dead, now there are many smaller exhibitions and parties and things around the centre of Milan. And so it was last night, the third (I think) night of the Furniture Fair.

F’s shop had a book launch and so there was a small party, of sorts. Of course, now, I must go. I like to watch him schmoozing the customers – and he is very, very good. Full of charm and jokes.

I know some people, of course, and get introduced to more by F, permitting F to go off and see other people. I chat a bit but I do find it more difficult. I’ve never really been that good at small talk. Still, I do my best and the party is nice.

I step outside sometimes for a cigarette – watching the taxis and cars and people in this unusually crowded street. Feeling kind of odd. I mean, I don’t feel like I really fit in but it seems nice and I want to fit in; to be part of this ‘world’ of art and design and ideas.

But it’s OK. I have a glass of prosecco in my hand and, after several, I’m more relaxed. I meet people that I recognise but can’t place. One is an author; another a buyer or something for Prada; some English woman who is a buyer for some shops out of Milan. But I am crap with names and crap remembering. Somehow I manage to get by, sometimes having to ask F quietly, who it was I have been talking to.

I mention the dog; the new puppy – but they all already know and most have seen the photographs. “Yes, I have seen you in the photographs with the dogs”. Of course they have. I say to one, “I don’t know whether he’s with me because of me or because of the dogs”, laughing as I do. In fact, both are true.

And I am tired. His colleague from Paris has gone (and she is really lovely) and two nights of going out, eating, getting back at half-past midnight have taken their toll. Tonight I would have preferred to go to bed immediately but it can’t be so. It’s part of the deal of a relationship. One does things for the other. And, anyway, F enjoys introducing me as his ‘fidanzato’, especially to people who have never met me. They always think I’m something in fashion or design and he delights in telling them that I’m not. It’s his thing.

We walk home, since there are no taxis. It’s not late but both of us are so tired it feels like it’s midnight anyway.

In the middle of the night, we both stir for some reason and, for no apparent reason at all, as he turns, he lifts himself up on his elbows and kisses my face. He doesn’t really show affection as such but sometimes I feel happy that I know he loves me.

Holidays in the North!

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I remember a birthday party, years ago. It was at the house of one of my sister’s friends (at that time we were communicating – V and she were in love with each other – in a platonic sense, that is. That’s quite obviously until they fell out – from when they hated each other). It was in the South East of the UK. Her birthday was in July, the 14th, I think. Anyway, mid-July.

She was going to have a barbeque. Seems reasonable, doesn’t it?

Well, yes, but this was the UK. A guarantee of good weather is not a given, even in mid-July.

In fact, on the day, it rained and was very, very cold. We had to wear jumpers and coats. Needless to say, the barbeque was cancelled. You can’t really have one when it’s about 12 degrees outside. And raining.

Summers in the UK! One of the reasons I wanted to come somewhere warm. Or, at least, warmer for longer, with some kind of guarantee.

Then, the year after we moved here, we were convinced by S&N to go on holiday together – to Austria. Look at summer brochures for Austria. Go on, take a look.

Just in case you can’t be bothered, I’ve done the searching and found some for you:

Isn’t it lovely? Look at the beauty of the lake and the wondrous blue sky! Who wouldn’t want to go there, eh?

The one above is very like the valley that we stayed in. Quite inspiring.

And these people, in swimsuits, sitting in the shallows of a lovely lake. The weather, so wonderful and WARM!

Except, of course, it wasn’t like that. It was more like this:

See those low clouds? Under them is rain. Solid rain. And cold. Very cold. Solid rain and very cold.

And when it wasn’t raining it was like this:

It’s no wonder it’s all so green. It looks quite bearable, doesn’t it? Well, it was still cold. But in any event, it was mostly like this:

To be fair, I did query it as a summer holiday destination to start with. I was told that, no, it would be fine. It would be August, wouldn’t it? And, to be fair, they did say that it was the worst weather they had had in years. And to be fairer, the week after we had left, they had massive flooding.

Still, you know, I swore that it was the last time I would be going ‘north’ for a holiday?

Except one should never say ‘never’, should one?

No, one shouldn’t. Otherwise you will end up doing the same again.

Which is what I shall be doing.

There is a fiftieth birthday party. And she is a very good friend of F’s. And so we shall be going to Vienna for almost one week. In May. Hmmmm. F has booked a flat so we can take Dino.

I shall pack jumpers and thick socks. And walking boots. And heavy coats. I shall be equipped for snow and stuff. And I shall pack one T-shirt just in case we have warm weather.

Cold to ‘Flu to something else?

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My body doesn’t seem to quite be with me, this morning. My legs seem as if they belong to someone else.

My eyes feel sore and, I think, if I were to look in the mirror, I would see them red and puffy.

I want to go home and go to bed. Not that I could. The cleaner will be in now.

And I know that when I DO go home, I have many things to do.

We are going away this weekend – as is usual for Easter. Tonight is my only really ‘free’ night and so I must get some things from the shops; arrange to have my tyres changed from winter to summer; take Dino to the vet.

The last one is a new thing, decided about 4 a.m. this morning.

I am now doubting (a bit) my thoughts I posted earlier about Dino suddenly becoming older and slower. Now I’m not sure that is the reason. Now I’m thinking it could be something else.

It really started the night before last. I heard some strange sounds coming from where he was sleeping. At first I thought he was having a dream but later, confirmed my thoughts, when we went out for a walk and he started again – on the walk. It seemed he had a cold.

Yet, when I am home and during the evening, he seemed alright. He had an ‘attack’ once during the evening.

The ‘attack’ includes him not being able to breathe properly and seeming to suck back the mucus in his nose and then swallowing it. It is all very loud. And sounds quite dreadful – but is just like a bad cold.

I wasn’t unduly worried. Although I couldn’t remember any of my dogs ever having a ‘cold’ before, I thought to myself that it must be possible. After all, we get them and the change in weather may be the key.

Last night F was awake and heard it. He asked me about it. I said it was just a cold. He said he would go to the chemist and try to get something for it. I said OK but make sure it was for dogs – our remedies are just too strong for dogs.

He said that I should take him to the vet. I said I would but only if continued for a few more days like this.

This was about 2.30 this morning after a particularly heavy ‘attack’ when F had got up and switched on the light which then woke me up, of course.

But then, lying there, not sleeping, I got to thinking that it was, indeed, a very strange thing, this ‘cold’. Not only had I not seen it before in my dogs but I couldn’t actually remember any other dogs catching a cold.

So, I thought to myself, what I would do is do a search on the Internet and see if a) they could catch a cold and/or b) what else it could be. I would do it this morning, at work.

Except that I couldn’t get it out of my head. What if something were really wrong? And after a couple more ‘attacks’, I got up.

I would check it now.

Of course, one must be careful not to read the Internet as gospel. One site said that, of course, dogs could catch a cold. Most sites said that, in the sense that we mean a cold, dogs did not catch colds but that it was something more serious.

So that would be no sleep for me then.

I nearly decided to stay at home and go to the vet asap – but then thought that that was quite stupid as nothing would happen in a matter of hours.

However, most sites suggested that the dog would need to be checked by a vet and so it is the thing I will be doing tonight as now, after F’s prodding me, I am a bit worried.

Probably, it is nothing much and a course of antibiotics will fix everything.

But you never know.

One of the causes of this flu/cold symptom is distemper. Although he has been fully vaccinated, one cannot be certain and his booster is due in May. So I have to go. Some of the symptoms include lethargy. Well, he’s certainly been a little lethargic. I put that down to his age and Rufus being gone. Maybe not.

Still, he seems to be eating and drinking OK.

But, you know, better to be safe than sorry, as we say? And I certainly don’t want to be sorry.

I told him this morning, as I woke him, that I would take Dino to the vet this evening.

Later he texted me and asked me why I was doing it when I had said I wouldn’t.

I said it was because Dino had kept me awake all night. There’s no point in worrying him too. I can do the worry for both of us and more.

But, truth be told, I feel like shit right now. I’m sure it’s a lack of sleep but the worrying won’t be helping. Maybe I will leave work a little early? Then I can take him to the vet earlier. Yes, maybe I will?

On being short.

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There are those days. Nothing can be done. It just happens like this. You just can’t be your normal, happy self.

And today, for me, it is one of those days.

I am a bit short with people. By that, I mean, of course, short-tempered. Not really angry or anything, just like ‘Shut The Fuck Up’ kind of short.

I know why. And, to be honest, F is to blame.

When I have a bad night, which is not often, I am careful not to keep F awake. But F is Italian and, therefore, just like driving, walking, standing talking, riding bikes and just about everything else, there is no thought as to how your actions might just be affecting anyone else. Nothing. Nada. Niente.

And so, during the night I was woken up. Several times. And talked to. Etc., etc.

And now I am quite tired.

And just a little bit irritable.

And, therefore, a little bit short. Which I recognise and feel bad about.

But not bad enough to stop it.

Damn!

All growed up?

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Of course, it could just be me but he does seem different.

A bit quieter. I mean to say, he still has his mad moments, still plays with the toys (always picking out the newest toys – carefully selecting them from the huge basket that, since F has been with us, is almost overflowing – and by ‘selecting’, he really does choose which one, taking a few moments to pick out one of the latest even if they are not on the top), still getting overexcited when F walks through the door, etc., etc.

But definitely a bit quieter. We were at the cafe this morning for breakfast. F had taken him for his morning walk and we met up there. Sure, he was pleased to see me but sat once I had sat. Watched for F as he went in to get breakfast and then remained sitting whilst we ate and drank.

Other dogs now are not necessarily so interesting unless they are female in which case his nose is often pressed right on their behind so that they look like two dogs joined together. Not all females. Just some. A suggests that this is because he is an Italian dog. I think it’s because he is a dog. But I can’t argue with A because that would just annoy me since logic is not his forte, even if he is an engineer – at least when it comes to things Italian.

No, it’s as if he is all grown up.

For me it’s not only his age but also because, now that Rufus has gone, he is not the little puppy anymore.

Or maybe it’s both.

But he has turned out, as I predicted, to be the best dog I’ve ever had. Not quite perfectly behaved all the time but, dammit, near enough and the only things he does wrong now (like his tendency to jump up) are because F encourages him to do it.

Yep, he is all growed up now.

Walking through the city that I love.

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I must admit, it didn’t seem quite right. Of course, it had crossed my mind earlier, before I set out. And, so, I should have checked, I suppose. Still, I had mentioned ‘showroom’ and nothing was said to make me think otherwise.

In fact, when I had asked, earlier, if he would like to come with us for a walk, I had assumed he would be going that way anyway. He had said ‘no’ since he had many things to do. In a way, that was a shame, in that I would have found out that he wasn’t going to the showroom after all!

Unfortunately, I was a little late setting out. And there wasn’t a bus coming. But I knew that, if I walked, I could be there by about 7.30, so that was only half an hour after it started and that was OK. I walked. Eventually, at one of the stops I saw that the bus was coming and waited. Three stops later and I was off.

I don’t particularly like that part of town. It always seems so dark, so dead. I got to the gates – painted especially mimicking something that a graffiti artist would do, thereby making graffiti pointless. It works. Also it is quite stylish.

The gates were closed. I rang the bell. As I rang the bell, I thought that, quite obviously, I was at the wrong place. For certain, with something this important, the gate would be open and I would hear sounds of partying or, at least, sounds of people, etc.

I text him, asking if it was at the shop but not really expecting an answer since it would be unlikely he would have his phone on or with him. Still, if it were to be at the shop, then I would be very late and, maybe, he would check his phone and see where I was. Or where I had been.

I ring the bell a second time. There seem to be lights on, from what I can make out over the hight wall and gates – but, still, I am sure I am at the wrong place.

Now this is nowhere near the shop. The shop will take a while to get to. I think about a taxi but decide I can’t really justify the expense. If it had not been for him, at this point I would have just gone home. But I can’t let him down and I know he wanted me there.

Luckily, I have a general map of Milan in my head, including most public transport. I can get to the Duomo (cathedral), I think and from there I can walk – it’s not so far.

But first I need to walk back the way that I came – the other side of the park that Dino and I had been playing in a few hours before.

At first I was going to walk straight up the road then I realised it would be quicker to go diagonally, through the park. Well, when I say quicker, easier to catch a tram. I thought I would take a number 12 or 27 as I was sure they were the ones. They didn’t take me to the centre but it would do. It would have to do. It wasn’t so far to walk to the centre. Then I remembered that I could change and take a tram number 23 which would take me to a delightful little square just behind the Duomo. The park that I’m walking through is quite nice in the darkness (although there is no real darkness since we are in the city. So it is more shadows of darkness, some darker than others). There are few people about. A couple of couples, intertwined as young lovers often are in Italy – after all, they seem to have nowhere else to go! A few people walking their dogs. A group of three young lads one of whom is holding the lead to a rather small white fluffy dog which takes away from their swagger as it’s more of a lap dog. I smile. To myself, obviously.

But it’s beautiful in the park with its shades of darkness. It makes me think of Twilight (even if I’ve never seen the thing). It makes me think of summer (even if it’s not as warm so as to be wearing just a T-shirt). It’s that kind of smoky darkness you get at twilight in the summer. It’s why it’s also called dusk, I guess. Dusky.

I got to the stop. Earlier, when Dino and I were coming back from the park, there had been an accident. A tram had run into a car. I had heard the bang from the park and thought it must have been an accident. It doesn’t happen that often and still amazes me when it does. I don’t believe that the tram ran into the stationary car but that the car had tried to turn left, crossing in front of the tram, thinking that he could ‘get away with’ the manoeuvre – except he didn’t. Stupid.

Now there was no sign of the accident. I get to the tram stop and walk a little further down to check on the trams or buses that stop here. I am in luck! A number 73 bus, from Linate airport also stops here. I had forgotten about that option. This takes me right to San Babila and so is a much better choice.

And even more lucky! The bus is nearly here. The bus is packed as it always is, coming from the airport. I can’t believe it has taken them so long to make a metro from Linate. Well, it’s still not finished but at least now it’s under construction!

As we near San Babila, I look out of the window of the bus and see, above the buildings, the Duomo, there, in all it’s glory, floodlit and beautiful (well, if you take the plastic wrapping off the tower that holds the larger-than-life, golden Madonna). I catch my breath. It can still do that to me!

I get off the bus and walk over the square in San Babila. I think about V and how much we loved this city and realise that I still do. It fills me with an excitement that is impossible to describe. It has a beauty and a liveliness that I have found only in one other city, Istanbul (even San Babila with its modern buildings all around – its shops). There are people with bags – bags from designer shops, there are people making their way to dinner, or the cinema, or the theatre, or home, of course. The city is alive and I like it a lot.

I walk down Via Montenapoleone (one of the main designer shopping streets in Milan). I notice windows more now, given that it’s F’s job. I like the window in Louis Vuitton. They have large arrows as if on a target, in a circle, around a bag. The fletches are the same colour for each window, but a different colour between windows. I don’t know what it’s supposed to mean, as such, but it’s pretty and inspiring at the same time. Like a work of art.

I notice that some of the other shops are no longer impressive to me, with their window displays. I am affected (or should that be infected) by F and what he does. I am less interested in the actual clothes or bags than I am in the displays! I pause in front of Iceberg. They were my favourite designers. I quite like a jacket there. Sometimes, I wish I had the money to shop there like I used to but that’s just a fleeting thought. Clothes, after all, are not that important, it’s how you wear them that’s the key.

The street is not full but the people there are mostly tourists. Maybe they’re too frightened to come there during the day? Frightened they will be made to purchase something that’s too expensive or that they will look out of place walking down there when the shops are open?

Still, I enjoy walking down the street. I want to tell them that I live here, that this place is my home. I am happy to live here. No, even proud! I imagine their envy, even if it’s not for everyone (even for most Italians). Still, it’s a city that I love and I like to be reminded that I love it – and not just because I’m with F. And it does feel like home (which it is) even if I would happily live in the country again. But I may only have this short time here, in this city, so I have to savour every moment.

At the end of the street, I turn right and reach the shop. Even if F has not replied to my text, it is obviously right. Whilst all the shops are now closed, there are people outside this one, having a fag, talking, etc.

It’s a special thing to launch a range of spectacle and sunglasses frames. Of course, I know a lot of people there. Well, the people that work for the company. They are all, of course, very nice to me. F is pleased to see me and I explain what happened.

It’s like an upmarket cocktail party. There are drinks (prosecco and wine) and nibbles, being served around the shop by waiters. Finger food, aperitivo food. When I try some, eventually, it’s nice. As I would expect, really.

I wander about a bit, not wanting to be in F’s way as he is, or should be, working. Saying hello and chatting with clients many of whom he knows, of course.

Someone comments on the jumper he’s wearing. It’s a simple grey v-neck. He tells them it’s from Zara and that I had bought it for Christmas. This is true but I only recognise it now, when he’s said it. He did seem particularly pleased with it and, obviously, he really is. That makes me happy. Also, I am happy that, even if I’m not in this business, I can do something so right.

He finds me a little later. He puts frames on me. He favours one that is a pale grey. I prefer one that is a dark blue. He says that the lighter one suits me. This time, I think, I shall listen to advice since I am always better pleased later.

But since I like the darker frames, later still, with a group of colleagues around me, we have the frames put on me again and people nodding their heads or shaking it giving their sage advice as to what looks best.

Apart from me and one other person, they side with F. I guess my next pair will be light grey frames then?

The party finishes and most people leave. F had told me that he has to re-do the shop for tomorrow. It has to be done now because tomorrow (today as I write this) he is in Germany for a week. I thought it was going to take a long time but before 10 he is finished and we go home.

As soon as I got home, I took off my shoes since my feet were killing me. I had done a lot of walking in shoes that I don’t wear so much now. Still, the walk both through the park and the city itself were worth it, reaffirming as it did, my feeling for this city. And I’m not even a city person!