Here in Milan, at the Santa Maria della Grazie church is one of Leonardo’s masterpieces. It has been restored and it is possible for you to go and see it, if you book far enough in advance or, if you are lucky on the day.
Colouring In – another of those Life Lessons
Remember when you were a kid and you had one of those colouring-in books? Page after page of outline drawings that usually came with a pack of colouring pencils.
The future’s bright, the future’s what colour?; It’s life, Jim, but not as we know it.
The future. Unless you have kids and are thinking of their future, the future must, inevitably, include you. And this makes it a very fragile thing that only exists in your own head.
For, if we are not in the future, then the future that you thought in your head doesn’t and will not exist.
Where to live?
Pietro seemed concerned that I would be leaving Milan and, for that matter, Italy.
Eating month-old panettone will protect your throat; More snow
Today is the Saint’s Day for Saint Biagio. I learnt about this because, apparently, in order to protect yourself from problems with your throat, one should eat some panettone from Christmas.
Candle burning at both ends; Rituals
I am far too old for this. Since Wednesday, out every night and not back until 1 or 2 in the morning, or, even later. What am I thinking of? As I normally get up at 5.45, I find that I cannot really sleep in past about 7 whatever time I arrive back home the night before.
Dinners with friends; dinners at friends; parties at friends; just out with friends. And, come about 11 I get so tired. I mention that I shall go home and I get the response of – “Really?” or “Stay a little longer”.
It has to stop but not for tonight or Tuesday night and, probably not Monday night either since I need to ask someone for help.
The idea of coming home after work and just sitting down with a glass of wine and watching a film is such a pleasurable thought, almost like paradise. Not that I don’t enjoy being out with friends, of course. It is impossible to say “no” even though I should. I don’t want to disappoint friends and I enjoy their company – it is fun. And life is too short to miss out on “life”. And friends are what makes life worth living, in my opinion. The joy of being in the company of like-minded people or people who are fun and talking or laughing is what is so good.
And now the boys are pressing to be taken out. They do not see the snow that is falling (enough of winter!) nor would Dino care. So, whilst they wait, they play or, rather, Dino winds Rufus up by walking round him with the occasional lick or nudge or, worse, trying to mount him. As they are now separated when we are not here and at night (because of the barking problem) it’s the ritual they go through each morning and evening. After Dino has brought out, one by one, his toys for me to throw or, again, to try and wind Rufus up.
Then, for a short while, one of them lies on his back whilst the other attacks at the throat and, if it’s Rufus doing the “attacking”, the way that he kneels down, his paws tucked underneath him, to stop Dino going for the feet – until one of them barks or yelps too loudly and they get shouted at.
The ritual of checking who’s boss, of course. I think it’s still Rufus but Dino gets stronger and bolder and more clever every day.
So now it is a shower and out for the long walk we always have at the weekend even if we are not able to have that during the week (depending upon time).
Paralysed by the headlights of the oncoming car
I have often wondered what makes the rabbit or deer stay, motionless, when in the path of an oncoming car or vehicle at night.
Talking about you; Where English words come from; An open window
The number of visitors I get for the ‘new’ (well, it’s not so new, really) blog is higher than the old one (a little). But it’s not that that is the surprise. It’s where the people come from.
Death by a thousand cuts
So, there you are. Someone does something that, in itself, is not so bad or so terrible or so hurtful. You have been relied upon for so many years to do something and then, because things are a little strained and they won’t ask for help, they go and do it themselves or, find someone else to do it.
And you don’t know until it has been done.
And it’s a shock because you didn’t realise that they were going to do that. And, maybe, a little angry. And, probably, somewhat hurt that they had done it and you would have been quite happy to do it.
Or maybe you wanted to be asked, even if you would have said ‘no’ or made it for some time that was going to be impossible for the other person. But you wanted that chance to say ‘no’ or make it difficult. And they have taken that away from you.
And you look at the result and you’re not impressed. You know that you would have done a far better job as you know the person and you know what they like.
The trouble is that, for whatever of the reasons that you wanted to be asked – to say ‘no’ or because you would have done it willingly and wanted to – it’s difficult to keep your voice and face from expressing some emotion and, thereby, letting the person know that they have ‘got one over on you’.
It’s another little cut. Each one is nothing. Even a hundred is nothing. But a thousand? With each you bleed a little more. After a thousand you are dead and, in the meantime, the death is agonisingly slow and painful.
Of course, it may be that they weren’t trying to do anything. Maybe they were just trying to make it easier. Maybe they had to do it as you had gone out and they didn’t know when they would see you again for this to be done?
Have you counted the cuts yet? Is it near a thousand? Wouldn’t it be better if they just made one fatal slash? Then it would be over and the pain would go away and you would be free of this life.
Oh, yes, and this is both of you in both situations. It’s not just the one side, of course. Intentional or not intentional – the result is the same.
And, if you’re on the receiving end, it hardens the heart a little more. It makes you more stubborn and I’m already as stubborn as they come.
Whilst, if you’re giving the small cut, it has two feelings. There is a feeling of giving back what you get. A small victory in this war of small attacks. In a war that, surely, is far too important to be taken so lightly. In a war that, in the end, gives no winner.
he other feeling is one of sorrow. That something was taken to be something it was not; that you couldn’t see that the thing would have been seen as such a bad thing. But, then, you knew really; it was pride that meant you could not ask; pride and stubbornness; pride, stubbornness and the desire to have at least one thing that you could “show” you didn’t need the other person for.
So, locked in your silences this is all you have to show – this demonstration of independence and strength.
Meanwhile, the bleeding continues……….
BBC Advertisements.
As you may know, I use the BBC website to check the news. One of the things that I believe you don’t get in the UK is the adverts.
They don’t really bother me. Some sit on the side advertising computers or cars or whatever. Some, however, are like an advert on TV in that they show just before the video clip you want to watch. It’s not really a problem. Most are for hotel groups or airlines and, to be honest, I take little notice.
Except for the latest one which I find really annoying.
It’s for the film “Revolutionary Road”. This in itself is not annoying. What IS bloody annoying is that, because I am in Italy, it’s in Italian and dubbed movies are never usually so good. So, instead of hearing Leonardo’s or Kate’s voice, I hear some Italian person and the voice is all wrong. Made worse by the fact that I don’t understand it all.
I mean, if I’m looking at the BBC site in English, don’t play adverts in Italian!