Tag Archives: Weather

Snowing in the garden

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We are lying in bed.  I turn my head and look out through the open door of the bedroom, through the hall to where the dim daylight – it is dawn – shows through the window that looks out on to the garden and lets me see that it is snowing.  I see the snow falling and the trees covered in snow.  I turn and tell F, who is just awake, that it is snowing.

Except, of course, that didn’t happen.  Yesterday, my colleagues wanted me to look up the weather on a website that I use and I found that within three hours, it had changed and forecast snow for today.

And this thing that happened, happened in a dream last night.

He doesn’t have a hallway through which I can see a window.  His flat is on the third floor and, like most houses in Milan, he has no garden in which there are snow-laden trees.  And I didn’t wake up to know that it was snowing.

However, as I stepped out of the door of the block of flats, it was, indeed, snowing.  Not as heavily as in my dream and not covering anything but, still………

Not really so strange but, for a moment, it made the dream seem all the more real.

Streets paved with…….what?????; Ironing what?????

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It’s cold.  We’re all wearing thick coats and hats.  Mind you, there’s not that many people around.  I guess, partly, because it’s still lunchtime.

I’ve had my hair cut and am walking to the cigarette shop.  I go down the street with the fantastic Art Noveau buildings – something to be seen in Milan, one of which is pictured at the top of my blog.

I’m following this guy, rather rotund, wearing one of those hats with the fur flaps that come down to cover the ears – like a deerstalker a bit but I don’t remember the proper name.

He didn’t look like one of the homeless guys. I mean he was only carrying one plastic bag which looked like it only had a couple of things, at most, in it.  But his next action was quite surprising.

He suddenly stops, looking at something on the ground, then stoops and picks it up.

Not as you might think, a coin or something that might be of either value or interest.

No, he picks up a comb.  An ordinary black, plastic comb. On the street. Probably used.

Puts it in his pocket and continues to walk on and around the next corner.  As I am going straight on, I turn slightly to glimpse someone who is probably around 60, grey beard, not untidy chap.

What a strange thing to do, I thought.

________________________________________________________________________________________

F has changed me in many ways.  Or, rather, I do some things now that I would never have done in the past.  One of these is ironing sheets  For me, what was crucial was that they were clean.  Now, yesterday, because my bloody cleaner is so slow I find that all the clean sheets are still to be ironed.

So, as a couple of weeks ago, F, who had been really busy was so apologetic about the fact that he had had no time to iron the sheets, I ironed sheets.  Never really saw the point of it myself.  I mean, you put them on the bed and by the end of the first night they are never perfect.  So why bother?

Yet here I am, ironing sheets.

OK, so I admit that they are better having been ironed.  But still.  As someone who loathes ironing, this was really going over the top!

Bah!

Last Night and Today

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The alarm clock goes off.

As I wake from my very deep slumber I briefly consider the idea of not going to work until later, if at all.  I reach for the phone and select the ‘snooze for 5 minutes’ option.  That always works, me never being able to get to sleep again because I’m constantly thinking things like ‘did I hit the snooze but or have I switched it off?’ – often meaning that I wake myself up again before it goes off a second time and get up.

I want to turn over and snuggle up to F.  I think, for the second time during my time in bed, that I really wish he were here so that I could do that.  But he’s not here and I’m not there and, like last night when I wanted him for warmth (but also because I don’t like being apart from him) I think about how, perhaps, I should have made the effort to have gone up.

But the last couple of nights have been ‘bad’ nights.  I am immensely tired.  I do sleep to be woken again by the alarm.  This time I get up.

I start to pull on my clothes.  Rufus is there wanting attention but Dino is not, safely secured in the kitchen following last night’s small disaster.  I think how nice it is not to have to shout at them; Rufus being so less boisterous now and Dino not being there to be over-excited.  I get up and go and get my glasses from beside the computer.

I go to the hall and put my scarf and hat and gloves on then let Dino out who, like some crazed Tasmanian Devil spins and jumps and twists around.  But he’s been a good boy and so I show him that he’s OK.  Then realise I should have put my coat on and got more ready before I let him out.

As we’re walking up the street I realise I am still more than half asleep.  I forgot to put the coffee on!  Ah well, it doesn’t matter.  Perhaps I shall have a shave before coffee?  Maybe a shower too?

The ground is wet but it’s only spitting rain now.  Thank goodness.  However, the dog walking areas, still not recovered from the rain the other day, remain wet and waterlogged.  I consider not letting them into the areas and then decide to anyway.  The cleaner guy comes today.

I put the coffee on when we get home, having the flame much higher than normal.  I need this coffee.  I do the milk and then go and sort out their water and collect the bowls for the food.  I measure in the milk and find that whilst I have been doing all the other things, the coffee is nearly done.

I take my coffee to the computer.  I sit at the computer for about 20 minutes, drinking my coffee, Dino asleep by my side, wary of the nicking of stuff on the footstool now….perhaps?  I hope so, for his sake and mine.

I write this post which goes nowhere between a rather hectic day with telephone calls and work interrupting; by now, forgetting entirely why I even started this.  Except that I am tired and I really miss F and I want to be with him tonight, even if, at the same time, I really want to be asleep.

Today, this day, I just can’t wait for work to be finished and to be at home.  I wonder if F, who is at the shop today or, at least, was this morning, will be home late or early?  I hope early.

And now I remember the reason for writing this and the reason I am so tired.  I was out last night.  It was to meet FfC’s Mum.  FfI was there and so was V.  F wasn’t there because he is so busy and couldn’t be there.

It was a Chinese restaurant.  I’m sorry if you were one of the attendees but, apart from the Duck with Orange (whole orange segments that were particularly juicy) it was mediocre at best.  And I don’t like Sushi to be bigger than my mouth.  It’s supposed to be food that you can put in your mouth in one go – as far as I am concerned.  And the sauces were too glutinous and the taste not fine enough and the service was crap and THIS is why Italians are wary of Chinese food (although you wouldn’t think so by the fact that the place was full) and I really don’t blame them.  And it cost over €40 per head.

And I looked at V and knew it was done.  He looked older and like he needed some rest.  I guess I do too.  And, now, his ways seem far less endearing than I remember, even if they are the same.

But, at least I wasn’t let down by either person and, for that, I am pleased.  But I didn’t get home until midnight and then I had to walk the dogs and couldn’t have driven to F’s place and so I phoned F on my way home and said how sorry I was but that I really couldn’t come over tonight as I couldn’t drive (too much to drink) and that I couldn’t walk there (too long) and so I would just stay at mine – if he didn’t mind.  Which he said he didn’t.

And that’s why I wrote this post although now, at the end of the working day, I lack the enthusiasm to write it properly and fully and tell you the thoughts that went through my head last night.

But, basically that was last night and today.

Today is a bad day – maybe it’s because it’s Tuesday?

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I really hate this bit.  The long, loooooong drag from Christmas/New Year until we start seeing the light and the weather gets to be bearable.

From September, it seems, there is the rush of getting everything done before Christmas; as if not getting it done will mean anything significant.  And then there is Christmas and New Year, here, extended until the 6th January – a long and (for a holiday) pointless time (not the Christmas Day itself, of course, which has significance) – the weather too bad and cold to make things enjoyable, the snow almost inevitably over and done with before Christmas Day itself – only to come back with a vengeance sometime when you think it might be getting better; the days too short (in terms of light) meaning that things like walking the dogs has to be done early and ‘gets in the way’ of other things.

The bright spots being that Milan is quiet and that, at least it is a holiday.

But now, now that we are back, and four days into the ‘new term’, so to speak – oh this is the worst.

The weather is still too cold and bleak and wet or snowy; making the daily drive anything but a pleasure; the days seem to get shorter even if they are not; there is no ‘light’ to look forward to (at least not for three months or so, depending on when Easter falls).

There is a bleakness to it, a sadness to the threads picked up from the things that were (or weren’t) finished before Christmas – everything the same and yet with nothing to look forward to – or, at least, nothing soon enough.

And worse than all that, you know that there will be more (and possibly worse) bad weather and gloom on the way.

I ache for the time when I can discard the three or four layers of clothing; when the chance of rain is diminished; when I can take the dogs out in the morning and the evening and there is still daylight; when it is warm enough that smoking doesn’t cause you to be shivering outside, even with the layers of clothes.

Everyone is expecting more snow.  The forecast that I use says it will rain but not snow.  I am glad but the rain is still miserable.  The dogs get dirty and the flat is impossible to keep clean now.  Dino seems to have gone into a chewing phase – well, chewing and eating everything.  I could kill him sometimes – but, of course, I couldn’t really.  But I can shout at him.  That’s something I suppose.

Rufus deteriorates, week by week, pulling himself back sometimes so that you think there’s nothing wrong with him.  But it’s only a matter of time, I know.  Ah well, such is life!  And he has lived a long life for the breed and for being a city dog for the last five years or so.

The answer to the Final Question is halfway to being complete – but it should have all been done and dusted before Christmas and the fact that it is only half-way irritates me.  But, again, such is life.  And I have this sinking feeling that the whole thing is not really over yet – like there’s going to be more shock, disappointment, inconsiderateness, etc.  It’s what I expect.  I want to expect better but, if I’m honest, THIS is much more like reality – this let-down.

OK, so this is NOT a good day but I shall bounce back tonight when there is a meal with friends.  Well, I hope to be bouncing back but I shall be annoyed if there is let-down again – and by two people, not just one!

And, although I really want to go back to find F there, I know he won’t be and I know I won’t feel like the trek up to his place and so, for the first night in weeks (or is it months?), we shall sleep alone and I don’t really like that a lot.  Not now.

Yes, today is a bad day – maybe it’s because it’s Tuesday?

I go Christmas Shopping (finally)

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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.

The start of many more?

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I am thawing out.  Everything is wet, especially the dogs which, in turn, means all the floors are wet.  The snow, outside, is starting to turn that mucky brown, as it does in the cities and on the roads.  The park, though, was white and although there had been many people, it still retained it picture-postcard (or should I say, Christmas Card) look.

Dino loved it.  Running through the now, jumping, playing, shoving his nose in it and coming up sneezing and coughing, or similar.  Rufus, although OK with it, has the problem of ice balls forming under his feet and there was a heart-stopping moment on the way back.

We had come out of the park and started to cross the road, where there was no snow.  The ice balls, although small, meant that he couldn’t walk properly.  At one point he just stopped and lay down on the ground, head on the floor and wouldn’t move.  For just a moment I wondered if this was it.  I cleared his paws but he wasn’t moving.  All limp and somewhat dejected.  I picked him up and got him in a sitting position and rubbed his paws again.  This time he was prepared to move but not entirely happy about it.  Still we made it home and he seems OK.  I spoke to F about it later and he said that, perhaps, it was time to take them out separately, which may be true although not entirely a pleasant thought.

Last night, having got home really late, about 8, because of the snow and the traffic, which was, at times, gridlocked in the centre of Milan, I had a shower and took them out, the snow falling thick and fast and then went up to F’s place as had been planned.  F, in the end, didn’t go to his Christmas meals because of the snow.

I walked up the street, umbrella in one hand, trying to stop my bag falling off my shoulder, smoking a cigarette and then a text message came through.  It was FfI who, not a genius with technology, didn’t seem to realise that, although my Skype account showed I was at home, I wasn’t actually there.  So I texted back with gloved hands something that I hoped she would understand.  She didn’t.  Several more text messages came through.  I ignored them since I wasn’t going to take my gloves off and texting was impossible if I didn’t.  The place had that weird silence.  The few cars that were braving the snow were muffled as they drove along the streets, the engines almost quiet and the only real sound was the sort of crunching, scrunching sound as their tyres fought to get a grip on the snow covered streets.  It was magical and beautiful and, anyway, I was on my way to be with F.

I passed the cinema and thought, briefly, what a good night to go it would be.  Especially to see A Christmas Carol, perhaps.  There would be hardly anyone there and it would be nice to have the cinema almost to ourselves.  And then, come out to this magical world.  Another time, I thought.

By the time I had got to F’s place she had already sent him a message asking me to phone her.  I texted her.  Thinking about it as I write this, it was nice of her to be worried but she a) knew I was going to F’s place and b) knows (although she doesn’t seem to get it) that I leave my computer on 24/7 so sometimes it looks like I’m there when I’m not.  I’m kinda glad she shows concern but, really, you’d think that by now she would understand.

When I got to F’s flat, this time, of course, I could let myself in.  I placed the keys on the side and told him I had left them.  He took them back but then gave me the real spare set and said I should have those.  I smiled, inside.  even if it’s only for a short while, it’s nice to have the trust in me and nice that these little things show that this relationship continues.  Continues to grow and be stronger.

In the end we decided that, maybe, I shouldn’t go to work today.  I set my alarm for slightly later than normal.  I got up with alarm.  The snow had stopped but it was deep and curling up with F seemed so much of a better idea, that’s what I did.  We got up several hours later, went down and had breakfast and he went to his new flat whilst I went home to take the dogs out.

Before I took them out, I Skyped with Best Mate.  She is planning to come over in January.  Of course, it’s a crazy time to come here, especially if the weather is like this but I am so looking forward to it anyway and, more importantly than anything else, she gets to meet F.

And now, I go to La Rinascente.  I need to get a flan ring to do Lemon Meringue Pie for Christmas Eve and look at the prices of 25-year-old Balsamic Vinegar for an old mate.  On the way back, I shall stop at Esselunga and, hopefully pick up a Faraona (Guinea Fowl to us) which, even though F won’t eat Goose, he will eat.  Don’t see much of a difference myself but whatever makes him happy.  Our Christmas Day lunch will be Lasagne, Faraona with carrots and roast potatoes followed by the Milanese Christmas Cake – Panettone.

It will be lovely – and, mainly because we shall be together.  Our first Christmas.  And I hope the start of many, many more :-)

The spare set of keys (II)

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Europe has winter.  And, as we’re in Europe, so do we.  Snow has fallen (but mostly gone from Milan city, itself) but more snow is forecast this afternoon and tomorrow.  I hate it.

Regular readers to my blog will know that I’m only really happy when the sun is shining and the temperature is above about 25°C.  So that would be about 30° higher than this.  You can, therefore, imagine how I feel about it.  Still, I know we’ve only got another month or month and a half before we should see some improvement.

‘I will be spending more time at your house’, he says, over a pizza last night.  He is still trying to do his flat.  I said that it makes it easier for me.  But this doesn’t mean moving in.  He added that ‘when I’ve moved in it will be much easier because when you stay at my house, you can go and walk the dogs and then come back to mine’.  Hmm.  It will be much easier but then the incentive for him to stay with me will, somewhat, be lost, so we shall see.

‘Can I get Dino’s hair cut’, he says, unexpectedly, adding ‘I would like to see him with short hair, like Rufus’.  He’s good, I have to say that for him.  What he really wants is that Dino should have a wash.  I know that.  He had asked a day or two earlier if it was possible for ‘us’ to wash him.  I said it was difficult with only a shower. And Dino does smell a bit doggy.  My sense of smell is not so good so I don’t notice so much.  His sense of smell is good.  I replied that we could get Dino’s hair cut.  I don’t have a choice really and it would make life a little easier.

Today he has his Christmas parties at work.  Lunchtime is one for the showroom and this evening is the shop event.  He may go to both.  Last night he was saying that I could go to his place.  The logistics of it were more difficult.  I was about to say that he should call me when he was leaving the ‘do’ and I would make my way to his house.

Before I had chance to do this he suggested that, when I take him home this morning, he would nip in and give me the spare set of keys so that I could go up whenever I like.

Of course, I will give them back to him tonight.  He hasn’t said that I should keep them and, anyway, he won’t be there for more than a month longer.  I wonder what will happen with the new flat?

But, still, it is the spare set of keys!

I love the fact that he loves me too.

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It read -3°.  This was nearly mid-day.  WTF?

I was going out because I had promised.  And because it would be nice to see L before Christmas and because it was a park I hadn’t been to before.  When I texted, some 15 minutes after we were supposed to meet I had been half hoping that she would say it was too cold or too much to take the cars or whatever.

She didn’t.  I realised I had forgotten to put on my thermal socks and knew I would suffer as a result.

The park was lovely.  We had had a few centimetres of snow and the trees and ground had that festive feel.  I just felt cold, even if it was pretty.  We walked and talked.  We don’t seem to run out of conversation and, yet, I never feel as if she will be one of my best friends.  I wonder why that is?  Maybe because we met at her friend’s party in the summer, also L (although different – so L2) and L2 and I, introduced through N, never really hit it off.  I mean, we are cordial to each other but there’s this thing between us.  I think we both realise that we don’t like each other, not that there’s a good reason why, but we both know to avoid each other after the required greetings.

However, L & I did hit it off.  We have dogs in common.  But, also, for some reason, we don’t run out of things to say.  So, here we are, in the park, which, being slightly on the edge of Milan is probably around -5°, talking and walking the dogs – my two and the two that really belong to her boyfriend, D.

I ask her about the ‘not moving in together’ thing.  They have good reason as children are involved but we both also know it is an Italian thing.  But, at least I’ve told someone here, other than F himself.  And she understood me, her being American.

We spoke about carols (see the previous post) and she agreed with me. In fact, D had never heard of them until he met her. She said she had toyed with asking me to the Milan Anglican Church Christmas Carol Service last Sunday. I wish she had. It would have been nice for a change.

By the end of the walk, my feet (and most everything else but particularly my feet) felt like they are made of ice.  My mouth had stopped working properly, being unable to correctly form the words I’m trying to say.  Although it had been a nice walk there is nowhere to go for coffee and it means driving somewhere back into town and then there are the dogs and what to do with them and so we decide to skip it.

I get back home and spend a few minutes trying to thaw out.  When F left this morning to go to the new flat to carry on with the painting, I had agreed to bring him a panino later after going back to his flat to switch on the heating.  And, now, as L and I had left late and walked longer than I had thought we would, I am rushing.  Rushing to go to his flat to turn on the heat (rushing so much that I left my flat and had locked the door before I realised that I didn’t have the bag I was taking back for him nor, in fact, the keys to get in), taking the metro to Porta Venezia to get cigarettes for both of us, going to the supermarket to buy essential stuff together with a pack of four Ferrero Rocher, because I know he likes them.  It’s another food thing we have in common (and because we have so little in common with regards to food, each one is important, to me anyway).

I took a tram back home, dumped the stuff I had bought and went round to the café on the corner.  I got 2 panini – one cheese (for him) and one ham and cheese (for me).  I wasn’t originally going to have one but changed my mind.  I got them hot, as is normal here, in Italy.  Today they would need to be hot.  I regretted, for a moment, that he doesn’t really eat meat because a hot pork roll with stuffing and apple sauce would have been perfect – not that they do them here either, so although I hankered after one, it wouldn’t have happened in any case.

I went to pay.  The girl on the till didn’t understand a word of what I said.  For her, it might have been a foreign language.  The problem with my mouth not working properly meant that I couldn’t even get the words out in badly pronounced Italian!

I went to the new flat.  He stopped work whilst we had the sandwiches.  Nice crusty bread and still warm.  Then we had one of the chocolates each.  He asked if the babies (as he calls them) enjoyed the walk, which I affirmed that they did.  I told him about L and the fact that she was going to Vienna for Christmas because that is where her mother and grandmother live and all the family will be there.  He said it was really nice and he loved the place (he was there for a few years when he worked for Helmut Lang).  I said that L had said that they do great Christmas markets and he confirmed that it is really Christmassy there.

He added, ‘Next year, we’ll go to Vienna for Christmas, yes?’.  Yes, I agreed, thinking how nice it was to be talking about being together this time next year too.  And I looked at him with flecks of paint on his nose and hands, in a striped top, showing a little below the neck, the hair from his chest just visible, with his newly cut hair, sitting, crossed-legged on the floor and, really I wanted to go over and hug him and kiss him and tell him just how much I loved him and how much I loved the fact that he loves me too.

Just being together

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Sometimes, these things just don’t work out.

The rain was constant, from last night, about half past 10 until now.  Constant and persistent.  The dogs don’t really like it, hugging the walls of the buildings in order to stay out of it as much as possible.  This was about 10.30 last night.  It is much colder too although above freezing.

I took the dogs back and, as we had agreed earlier, made my way to the shop to collect the keys to his flat.  The plan being, that when he finished his work, he would come home, telephone me and I would let him in at the gate.  I looked forward to it.  Both being in his home (which is a little warmer than mine) and the idea of him coming later, me, probably asleep by then, but warm and someone that he could snuggle up to.

I was later than I had intended and not having had the couple of hours sleep I had intended either.  N had Skyped me to tell me off for not telling her about V and then L had asked about some court case, which I couldn’t remember anything about, so I rang V and we were on the phone for a bit.  And so I was late.  But, at least, I was going and we would be together, even if asleep, for some time; some time being better than no time.

To get to the shop, though, from my place is not straight forward.  There’s no easy way which doesn’t involve quite a bit of walking or waiting for connecting trams or metros.  The easiest involves a good walk from my place to the metro at Porta Venezia and then one stop down, walking from Palestro to the shop.  And, it being a miserable night, it was not so pleasant, that tempered by the fact that I would see him again and that I would be there when he got home.

I collect the keys.  He stops work for a cigarette with me.  I am happy to see him and happier that I will be in his flat when he gets home.

I walk back to Palestro station and catch the metro up to his place.  I let myself in.  He had left the heating on and the place is warm and lovely.  I do all the things as if he was there.  I make myself coffee, sit and do some Facebook and Farmville stuff and then go to bed.  But, by now it’s gone midnight.  Not quite as early as I had planned.

And I can’t sleep.  Not because I’m uncomfortable but merely in anticipation of his arrival.  As I’ve said before, I really hate the fact that I have to sleep at all, missing precious moments with him.  At one point I look at the clock on my phone which says it is nearly one.  Damn.

______________________________________________________________________________

The alarm goes off.  I realise that he isn’t home.  I feel gutted for him as he looked tired when I saw him but now he has had no sleep.  I get up and start putting my clothes on.  He calls.  He is sorry for me that, in the end, I had to spend the night alone. We are sorry for each other.

I need to get his keys back to him.  I think how much better it would have been for me to have stayed at my home.  But, if he had have come back during the night, it would have been so worth it.

I clean the place up and try to make it as if I have never been there.  Well, I try, anyway.

I go home.  Walking the familiar streets, still everything wet and more wet being laid on the first lot of wet.  I get home.  I take out the dogs.  I sit and have coffee for a few minutes and then shower.  I had hoped to have left before 7.  As it is, it’s a quarter past – the time I should be leaving for work.  I briefly think about taking the car – but I don’t know the one-way system there so well and, then, I would have to find somewhere to park.

I take the metro.  This is going to take more than half an hour which means I shall be at least half an hour late for work.  Plus, I am tired.  It is still raining.

The workmen have arrived to remove the scaffolding and to put up the tree.  F tells me that he still has some things to do once the workmen have gone.  After that he will go home and bed.  I wish I could be there when he gets home, even if he is so tired he would just be going to sleep.  At least he would be going to sleep in my arms!

And, even if he has been up all night, he looks so good and I look at him and love him more.  I give him the keys and we kiss on the cheeks, the closest we can do to the real thing.  Ah, well, there’s always tonight, after the concert.

I tell him that it all looks beautiful.  I mean him, of course, too but can’t say that; I don’t know who speaks English there, it not really being a secret language here.

I leave, saying I would only ring/text him if he rings/texts me, as then I will know he’s awake.  He says that, if he hasn’t called me or texted by 6, I should ring him to wake him anyway.

I leave for the metro and the car, parked back near home.  I am late for work.  Or, rather, later than I would like to be.  And tired.  I have the concert to look forward to tonight but, even better than that, is being with F and then spending tonight together and waking up tomorrow and having breakfast, maybe and just being together!

What one does

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6

It seems that many people want to come to the dinner.  It’s like F is in a zoo or something!  I suppose it’s understandable.  It’s been almost a month and, so far, only A has met him.  However, it seemed a bit freaky that so many people wanted to come.

It scares me a little in that, I do love him (there, I said it, finally, to you) but I don’t want him to become, like, something exotic for others to stare at, if you see what I mean.

A said ‘you seem very easy with him’.  I’m not sure what that meant exactly.  Perhaps it meant you seem very at ease with him.  Which would be true.  It’s not ‘difficult’ but cool and very laid back.

Last night, the intention was to have an early night.  And I nearly did that – except that, when I got to bed it was cold and there was no one to snuggle up to and keep me warm.  I heard, on the radio, this morning, that it will be 0° tonight.  Brrr!  And I also found that, probably, the radiators (or some of them) are turned off so I need to fix that tomorrow.  And, I’ve been thinking of getting at least one portable heater.  I just can’t do the cold!

We spoke on the phone a couple of times.  He was so tired and it does make me feel a bit guilty – but, he has to be aware that I get up early and, as a consequence, need to go to bed earlier – although the night before was, to be fair, mostly my fault.

So, I got in bed and it was cold.  And I missed him.  And then I just kept thinking about him.  Worrying (as that seems to be my normal state of mind and is soooo annoying) that tonight would be difficult for him, even though he is well able to take care of himself.  He had said on the phone that I could go over.  He even offered to come over to mine!  That is really something as I know that would have been a great effort for him.  I told him to stay there, in the warm and get some good sleep.  Wow!  I can’t believe I said that!  That’s about the most sensible thing I’ve done since the start of my crazy period in April/May!

Of course, I really did want to see him, want to hold him, want to be with him but I had already decided, during the day, that I would not – and I was determined to stick to it.

But the offer from him to come over was really something.  It’s not like we live far away from each other but it’s still 10 minutes by taxi.

He wanted me to give a big kiss to Rufus after I explained that, unfortunately, I got in last night to find that Rufus had not been well.  I am surprised how fast he seems to be deteriorating and a little sad but that is the deal if you have dogs!  I am reminded of how wonderful a dog he has been.  You can actually leave open chocolates or biscuits on a table (or, within reach) and he won’t touch them!

I suppose I should tell V about it but I don’t want to tell him too early – and, right now it seems too early.

F wanted to give a smaller kiss to Dino – who, although a bit calmer now with F, is still maniacal! I hope he stops soon although, to be honest, F was playing with him for a while.

I like that he likes my dogs, obviously!  I like that he is comfortable to come and stay at the flat even if, the night before last, he did put the ashtray from the kitchen, outside on the windowsill – which is his thing!  It makes me smile.  I note that, already, I have started to change some things to accommodate him better.  They’re not a big deal for me but not things I would normally do.  I know he will do the same.

It’s what one does.