Thes – Old English for "this", neuter of thes, of West Germanic origin: Mediolanum – old name for Milan: Lif – Old English for "life", of Germanic origin; related to Dutch lijf, German Leib 'body'
Of course, since the ‘tidy up’ of the kitchen, I am no longer ‘allowed’ to have random bits of paper on the kitchen table, near the computer. I had moved it all, temporarily, to my chair in the bedroom and today, whilst sorting out (and putting away) the Christmas presents, I also sorted the bits of paper.
Amongst the things I ‘found’ were some cards from various restaurants I have visited in the last few months. Unfortunately, for one of them, my mind is a bit hazy as to exactly what I had – but that’s OK. I still have the impression from them all.
So, the first one (and oldest re: visit) that I have is Kapuziner Platz in der Stadt. This is the one in Viale Monte Nero. This is a German ‘pub’. The beer is, erm, German. The food is, erm, German (with an Italian touch, of course). Unfortunately I have forgotten what I had. I know F had a cottoletta milanese (wiener schnitzel). I suppose I had lamb – or beef. Anyway, the place is nice, the food was good (not fantastic but good) and I seem to remember it was reasonably priced.
The second one was Momà Restaurant. The only link I could find was one through Facebook. We went there with Al and R and a friend of theirs. The meal was wonderful. OK, so it’s not so cheap but the antipasto (including burrato) was very, very good and the meat (Al and I shared a plate of meat) was fantastic. The wine we had with it was exceptional. One word of warning – don’t have antipasto and primo and secondo. The portions were very generous and to have all three would mean you would be unable to leave the table! I would go back there in a second.
The final one is outside Milan, in the ‘Hinterland’. And, unfortunately, this was dreadful. This was lunchtime and is in the town where I work. We had gone in on a public holiday to do some stuff and, for lunch, went here (as there’s not so much choice). It’s supposed to be good and, I have to admit, I have been there before when it seemed OK. This time, however, it was awful. The restaurant is Papillon. They’re supposed to have their own website (it says on the card) but it doesn’t work. A little like the restaurant. We all had pizza. Mine was (to be on the safe side) Diavola – with spicy salami. It wasn’t the very worst I’ve tasted – but it was close. The service was so slow and people who came in after us got served before us and, for what we had it’s expensive. Avoid it like the plague!
In the end, it wasn’t just the four of us. Christmas Eve, I was chatting to one of my students on Facebook chat and she asked me what I was doing so I told her. Obviously, I asked what she was doing and she said that she was on her own. So, more obviously, I invited her to join us for Christmas lunch. Well, it is the season of giving and goodwill to all men (and women) and all that sort of stuff, isn’t it? The thought of someone I know (even if only a student) on their own on Christmas day would have been unbearable.
There was plenty of food. In fact we didn’t do everything that we had planned. But we did have antipasto and cold meats, followed by the lasagne (which was fantastic) and then my roast veal (which was OK – but not as nice as it should be) and the Yorkshire puddings failed – I have to find out why – it doesn’t make sense – but everything else was good – including my mince pies.
And we had presents. F was really happy with my main present to him. After the camera thing (that he decided to buy himself), FfI suggested I buy him a printer to print pictures – and knowing he likes doing compilation CDs for everyone, I bought him a printer that does photos and CDs as well. He was really happy. And I bought him a jumper from Zara that he said he had looked at in Madrid and nearly bought. So, a great success. Luckily I had also bought the scarf made by Lola – so instead of F getting it, I gave it to S (the waif and stray student). She was overjoyed with it. So, thank you Lola – without that I would have had nothing to give her.
So, although it didn’t all go as expected, I think it was a success. After we took the dogs for a walk and S had left, we went to watch ‘Prancer’ (La rene – in Italian) – that I gave F last year because it is his favourite film for Christmas. But he fell asleep within a second – and so we stopped watching it. Then there was Ratatouille (in Italian) on the TV. We watched it for a little. F fell asleep again. So I tidied up the kitchen and took the dogs out and went to bed. I was asleep before 11. F was still asleep lying on the bed, fully clothed. He woke up and felt cold so got into bed with me and we both went to sleep.
During the day he had phoned S (his ex) and we chatted for a few moments. S asked what we were doing for New Year. I said we were just staying home. He laughed and said that F never wanted to do anything except stay at home. And it is true. But now I realise he has always been like this. But, for me, it is fine. In fact, it is good and exactly what I like to do. I suspect that this thing was one of the reasons that they broke up in the end. After all, that was more like V &; I – V wanting to go out more than me.
And, we have had more of cleaning.
“I’ll just clean a little bit the flat”, he says. I have never corrected his English on this. It’s kinda cute and I like it a lot. There has been much ‘cleaning a little bit the flat’ – although the bedroom remains a major thing to be ‘tidied up’. In fact, this morning he says ‘That has to go’ – to a bag full of envelopes. It’s OK. It means he is much more comfortable here.
Rufus has been bad again since yesterday. And he ‘staggers’ sometimes – falling forwards or sideways – unable to stand upright so well. Poor thing. However, it’s a good job we didn’t go to Vienna with him like this. I would have felt so guilty. And it’s much more comfortable for him to be in his own environment – the place that he knows. Bless him.
And now F has gone to work. He has to re-do the shop window. I need to do some shopping and I have a lesson tonight, unfortunately.
In the meantime, I give you the photo of the mince pies :
I catch myself saying things in the way that Italians say them.
“I hate”, says F, quite a lot. I have corrected him a few times. I just repeat and add ‘it’ at the end. But I find myself saying it to him, now. It’s easier.
‘We are in three’ – a direct translation from Italian but really should be translated as ‘There are three of us’ – when asking for a table in the restaurant, for example.
At first, it made me smile when I heard English people saying it. Now I say it too!
And, now it is snowing. These are big flakes. Pietro said, the other day, it was ‘weak snow’. I laughed. I love the fact that Italians use words that make sense but are not what we would say. I explained we would say ‘light snow’ but I like the idea of weak snow. Of course, it implies that the opposite is ‘strong snow’, which is even funnier since snow is not really strong!
And, whilst we’re on the subject of the weather, we are not having it anywhere near as bad as the UK. Although it is interesting that most airports in the UK seem to be open – with the exception of Heathrow. Heathrow, being, apparently, the busiest airport in the UK is closed or partially closed. Other airports can stay open except the biggest! Hah!
But, I am quite annoyed by the complaining people. The complaints can be divided into basic groups:
The government should do something about it!
Why? If you are told not to travel except if it is necessary, then don’t blame the government if you get stuck in traffic. And I question if your journey is really essential? I read in some comments, yesterday, someone saying how they had travelled to see family to give Christmas presents. I’m sorry but this is NOT a necessary journey. By making this journey you are helping the congestion on the road and you are selfish.
The local councils should use more grit.
Apart from the fact that below about -5° the grit has no real effect, if the councils overspend and therefore raise the council tax to pay for it, are you going to say it’s OK? No, I thought not.
This should have be planned for.
Why? The UK is not Finland. It does not have a continuous blanket of snow for 5 or 6 months of the year. And planning for it means spending money. The money must come from somewhere. This means that everyone has to pay more OR that other things must be cut. So, you can have your necessary grit and snowploughs if you are prepared to have less teachers in the school or stop paying for cosmetic surgery on the NHS. Will that be remembered when someone doesn’t get taught to the right level or where someone who has been disfigured in an accident can’t have surgery to make it right? No, I didn’t think so.
I don’t like the Daily Mail at all but I’ve started reading it online because it gives me an insight into the mind of moronic, bigoted people. And this article shows exactly what is wrong with people. Some stupid woman leaves a very warm, southern-hemisphere country to fly back to Britain just before Christmas. Lucky her for being in a warm place. She comes wearing flip-flops. She has obviously forgotten that Britain tends to be a little chilly. Or, more probably, she is stupid and has no idea of forward planning.
I then rugby tackled a woman from the airline. ‘Where do I go to ask about my flight to Heathrow?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘But you work for the airline. You’re wearing a badge.
‘I’m just directing people to the self-service check-in.’
Hmm. As she works for the newspaper, perhaps she can tell me where I can go buy a few tonnes of printing paper? No, I thought not. But she works for the paper!
‘How do I do that?’ I was given a piece of paper by another mute employee; this had a phone number on it. (Anyone without a mobile – old ladies, nuns, the weak, the injured – were culled.)
Hmmm. Old ladies, nuns, the weak and the injured probably HAVE mobile phones. If they don’t then there are things called ‘pay phones’. You go, you pay money and you dial. This reminds me of the time at the Paris Airshow when someone came up and asked where the entrance was (there were a LOT of entrances) because she was meeting a friend. A friend who didn’t have a mobile phone! In this day and age? And I question why you would travel in these days WITHOUT a mobile phone.
Eventually, at 9.35pm on Sunday, I was put on a flight to Birmingham. I did not want to go to Birmingham.
If it had been me who was serving you you would not have been going to Birmingham. You would have been staying in the airport at Schiphol. Excuse me, but if you didn’t want to go to Birmingham, why did you go? No one was forcing you onto the plane, were they? Oh yes, that’s right, it was better than staying in the airport and there was a chance you could get to where you wanted. Now, if you had been on a plane already in the air that changed it’s flight plan then you would have a better reason to write those words.
I don’t really care about the case, but I do mind that I was stripped of my humanity, and tipped into a world where nothing matters but petty rules, and spectacular indifference.
Ummm. Excuse me. You were NOT stripped of your humanity. And if you don’t want to be in that world then don’t travel by air. You were stupid enough to travel from Bolivia to the UK at the end of December wearing only flip-flops. You are stupid and ignorant and deserve everything you get!
Oh, yes, and you write for the Daily Mail. Still, I suppose stupidity and ignorance are a job requirement for that paper so you must feel right at home!
I’ve tried to find it but I can’t – unless I didn’t give the real name, of course.
I can make mistakes. Well, sort of mistakes. I remember going, one time, with A. Not long after it opened. I suggested it. It was an alternative to K2 since I never rated K2 that highly. I came away from this one disappointed too! For me, it seems that Tuscan restaurants outside Tuscany were, in some way, lacking.
An has been over. She is Milanese but has been living in London for the last 6 years or so. She came over for an interview for a job here, in Milan. She got the job. So, Friday night we went to the Imperiale for L’s birthday. An came too. We had a fabulous evening. L and her partner, D, were fabulous hosts and, anyway, it was the Imperiale – what could possibly go wrong?
In a word – nothing. It was fabulous. By far the best Chinese in Milan ……………. AND, I live round the corner!
Saturday lunchtime An was leaving to return to the UK. Unfortunately (for those of you in the UK), in case you hadn’t noticed, they’ve had a bit of what we could call ‘weather’. The UK was almost closed. No problem, the flight was delayed. It would be leaving at 8 p.m. To be honest, reading about what was going on, I didn’t think so – and I told F that. He decided not to tell An.
So, about 7 p.m., she returned to the airport. She was back about 9. The flight had been cancelled because the crew had to go off shift (which is what I thought may happen).
Sunday she re-booked whilst we went out with the dogs. Then F suggested we go for a plate of pasta at lunchtime. He asked me where would be open. I love that I can advise Italians who live a stone’s throw from me what is likely to be open and, mostly, give an idea of what might be good. I remembered that the restaurant would be open and that it was Tuscan. I told him that I thought it was a bit expensive but that it was OK. To be honest, I didn’t remember it that well.
We walked up the street (since it is in my street) and looked at the menu displayed by the door. F said that it wasn’t too expensive (and he was right, really). We decided to go for it. And, so, we entered Alle Colline Senesi.
It was full. It is only a small restaurant. Probably about 30 places. There is a couple before us. We, on the other hand, ‘are in three’. A table for 4 becomes available and so we get to have it. We offer to share with the couple but they really don’t seem to do that here, very much.
The menu was tempting – as was the food we saw being delivered. We decided on some mixed antipasto. Followed by some pasta for me, some soup for F and some melanzane parmigiana for An. F asked about having some mix of meats but he also wanted crostini (small slices of bread with, usually for Tuscany, some rough liver pate or meat or tomatoes).
The meat arrived. It was good. the prosciutto was hand cut so was thicker than usual and much more like it would be in the UK. I love it. F was a little bit worried as the crostini (which, we were told, would come anyway, without the need to order) didn’t appear. Then I remembered what was the worst thing about this restaurant – the service. So slow.
We had finished the meat and were about to ask about the crostini – when it appeared. F was happy. The crostini consisted of one each of the rough liver pate, lardo and tomatoes with garlic. Wonderful.
Then the main course came. F’s soup (brodo) was thin and clear with huge pieces of ravioli; An’s parmigiana looked like something the cat had thrown up (but tasted wonderful) and I had pappardelle with cinghiale – a kind of roughly cut up lasagne or larger tagliatelle with a wild boar sauce.
The food was fantastic. After, rather than have a main course (the portions having been more than a little generous), we had sweet. F had zuppa inglese (like a tiramisù without coffee and with chocolate instead), An had the chestnut (or as she says, chesternut) tart and I had the poached pears. The tart was nothing special (to me) and the poached pears could have done with cream or mascapone, in my opinion – but still, they were nice.
The whole lot, including a bottle and a half of house wine (quite good) and a bottle of water came to about €90. Not bad really. The service was so slow but, as F pointed out, it’s not the waiting staff that are causing the problem but that the kitchen was making everything (more or less) at the moment of serving and the waiting staff had to wait until it was ready. And the tastes were great. I think I could have eaten the roast pork chops with potatoes as well but I was full enough.
The thing is not to expect your meal to be done and dusted within half an hour. We were there a couple of hours – but for a Sunday lunch that is perfect. And, if you are prepared, for an evening meal it is fine too. Worth the effort and I only give it 4 stars because it was a bit too slow for me.
We’re still talking about it but it seems the fish is off.
The decision was made by F going and ordering lasagne – a meat ragù lasagne. Also with a little more information that I learnt the other day. He can eat (even likes?) veal. So, following the information about the ordering of the lasagne and the revelation that all meat is NOT a no-go area, as I was shopping last night, I checked, and they do rolled veal – for roasting.
So, I suggested that, if he would like, I could do a sort of English Sunday Roast – but, instead of beef, use veal (since it is the same meat, after all). And, so, unless there is a change of heart, that is going to be our Christmas dinner. I am very happy about that. I am, after all, a meat eating (and loving) person. We will also have Yorkshire Pudding with it. It will be the first time I’ve ever done Yorkshire Pudding for Christmas Day
The discovery of veal being OK also opens up so many more possibilities.
Perhaps, he has just said it for my benefit. I don’t really know. It is a possibility. We shall see if he eats it.
p.s. Yes, I don’t understand why you would pull a face at the mention of goose – and, yet, be more than happy to eat chicken or, worse, veal! Makes absolutely no sense to me and I really do think it’s just stuck in his head. Bless him.
One of my colleagues at work, M, talks to me, daily, about the latest ‘revalations’ regarding the ‘Mafia’ here, in Italy (and here I am using Mafia in the general sense, covering all the different groups). Just the other day, he informed me, Paderno Dugnano was a ‘hotbed’ of Italian Mafia (in this case the Ndrangheta, from Calabria) – who had made it their Lombardy headquarters. It would be similar to them making Romford, in Essex, their British base.
And we have talked of the ‘whys’ – when, so it is said, the police secret service know all the leaders and where they live.
I tried to explain that it is a problem that, in my opinion, is too deeply ingrained into all (well, I mean the majority, of course) Italians. I explained to him about S, my other colleague. She always asks people for someone they know when she is buying anything or having work done. And, she always expects a discount. The discount comes with a price, of course. The price is no receipt. The no receipt not only means no tax to the government but also means the money can go into the ‘black’ – i.e. into the black economy.
Of course, she knows that. We all know that. We know that our few Euro going into the black economy is nothing. But the few Euro for thousands of transactions every day (or, even, every hour) adds up to a considerable sum which can then be used to safely hide dirty money or to pay bribes.
But, she doesn’t think about it like that. She thinks of it as her getting a bargain. And a bargain is important, moreso here than in the UK. Everybody does it. Go to a restaurant and pay without asking for a receipt, in cash, and you will get a discount. And they say that restaurants are one of the main ways that money can filter into the black economy. It is said, apparently, so M tells me, that many restaurants in Milan are owned by the Mafia. I can believe it. You may get a 5 or 10 Euro discount by paying cash – that cash (and the subsequent saving in tax by the restaurant) can add up to a lot in one evening.
The problem is that it cannot be solved easily, if at all. With a very few exceptions that I know of, everyone wants that discount here. Buzz Lightyear (Mr B) continues to ‘infinity and beyond’ as he survives another vote of confidence. Despite the recent Wikileaks cables suggesting a link between him and Mr Putin (another place where, I suspect, the Mafia rules) and money changing hands. Well, why not? After all, he is only doing what S does, albeit on a slightly larger scale? S approves of him. She is a supporter. He is, after all a great businessman here. And we would honestly believe that he hasn’t greased a few palms here along the way? That he hasn’t accepted any kickbacks in a ‘you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours’ kind of way? It is, after all, the way that even the ‘little’ people operate here.
Perhaps it also operates like that in the UK and I was just too blind or stupid to see it? Or too naive to know better. I’m not trying to say that Italy is worse than the UK in this respect since I really don’t know. But here it is more obvious ……… and more accepted.
And, therefore, this, with Italians being brought up with this thinking, is too difficult to fight. Too difficult to control. Too difficult to destroy. And this, of course, is one of the reasons that Buzz remains in power since ‘everyone’ is at it, to a greater or lesser degree (I say everyone but I absolutely know of at least one person who insists on receipts for everything and has a good ‘community’ awareness).
And, no, I do not include myself in this list of upstanding people. On Saturday afternoon, a guy is coming to take down my Art Deco lamp in the lounge and take it away to be fixed. I asked my boss for someone that may be able to do this and she suggested him. Any money I pay (and it will be considerably cheaper than getting a proper electrician to come) will not be ‘declared’, of course. And the same in some restaurants. And my dentist. And a load of other people. And me. And I know that I am contributing to this – this malaise that affects Italy. But as I said to M – this is not my fight. I do my thing for the UK – where I really (feel that I) know the ins and outs of the situation. I do it with my posts about the students protests and other things. That I can do. To buck the trend, the way of life, in Italy – given all my other problems with just living here – is too much to ask.
There! Poor excuse it may be but it’s the way it is.
Well, the last two years have been, shall we say, different. First, there was the break-up with V and the Christmas we spent together and not together at the same time. And then there was last year which was the first Christmas with F.
And, so, two years without sending Christmas cards.
But now I am settled. I know where things are. And I am better prepared. And so, this year, I am back to sending Christmas cards – and with the special Italian Christmas stamps for this year as shown below.
“We could have this?”, he says. This, being a fish pie.
To be honest, I know it doesn’t sound terribly exciting but I’ve never actually made a fish pie in my life. And I’ve been around the block a few times. In fact, I’ve never really cooked fish until I met F. And I find it a bit of a struggle. Born and brought up in the wilds of deepest, darkest Herefordshire, fish wasn’t something that was really ‘local’. When my parents (and I) moved to Gloucestershire, near the river Severn, we sometimes had salmon – provided by the next door neighbour as they were caught up in the water filtration used for the nearby nuclear power station – and, of course, the obligatory (we are British) fish and chips – which I always hated, by the way.
So, fish. Difficult. But with F not eating any meat (except mince, polpette (meat balls) and sausages) it poses a problem for cooking. Lamb chops (my favourite) are a definite no-no. And, here, we were talking about Christmas.
The plan had been to go to Vienna for Christmas. F’s friend had a friend who has offered us their flat for the four of us (us and the two dogs) but with Rufus’ unpredictability with illness (although for the last few days he has been very well), we are thinking not. Not this year anyway.
So, whereas I would choose goose for Christmas, as last year, it is not to be. F’s face, at the mention of it, screws up in disgust with an ‘oh, no!’. To be honest, I’m not sure why. He is a bit fussy as far as food is concerned which is a little galling but not enough to make me not love him – after all, we go out quite a lot and then I can have meat. And I eat meat at work every day. So all is not bad.
However, I thought it would be nice to propose having fish for Christmas lunch. I know that, to those of you in the UK, it will sound very strange but here, fish for Christmas lunch is normal. I know, I know, it doesn’t seem Christmassey to me either but it’s a compromise and I’m happy to make it.
To stat with he suggested that I should do meat and he would just have vegetables. But I really can’t be doing with that – I would feel mean eating meat and him just having veg.
He had suggested lasagna (we can buy it Christmas morning if we pre-order it) and it would be lovely. After some discussion, about what we would have, as we were eating the above mentioned fish pie, he suggested that I do this very dish. And he would do a fish lasagna!
Again, perhaps it’s just me but fish lasagna just doesn’t sound quite right. And, anyway, I was quite looking forward to having a nice meaty lasagna. As I explained to him, eating a course of meat and then a course of fish is really no problem for me. And I am doubly surprised by Italians not going for it – they do have vitello tonnato after all (thin slices of veal covered with a thick tuna based sauce – which, incidentally, I hate – having a fish course followed by meat (or vice versa) is one thing but to mix fish and meat together makes me feel sick.)
Ah well. It’s one of the prices I pay. And it’s not really a great price to pay. It’s not like we shall starve or anything.
On the plus side, he really liked my fish pie (as you may have gathered) so now that’s two fish recipes I can do and that he likes (or, at least, says he does). And I know that he knows that I am making a real effort to make him happy – which I do not because I want him to know but because I’m glad to make him happy in the same way that we have gone to all-meat restaurants because he knows I love meat. It’s just the normal give and take. As you do. Or, rather, as you should do.
The headache was so intense that I actually found some Nurofen and took two. It made it better ….. eventually.
I hate Mondays. The problem is not that it’s a Monday but that I have a lesson that starts at 9 p.m. for an hour and a half. I take the dogs out afterwards. But, instead of being able to go to sleep straight away, I always struggle – thoughts going round in my head, etc. It’s just like if you have been driving for a few hours – you need time to relax.
Of course, it’s made much worse if F is not here. Even if the flat is not so cold, I feel colder without him. I don’t have him to cuddle up to, to be comforted and safe.
And, then, last night all these things (including the blasted headache) were there.
I got to bed about 11.15. I switched on the telly for a bit. Then switched it off – I thought sleep was almost here. But, of course, I was wrong. Sleep was not here. It was somewhere else. It was missing in action. It had escaped like a wayward cat and was not knocking on the door – even if I was so very tired.
I switched the telly back on, went and got the cigarettes from the kitchen (F is not here and so I can smoke in the bedroom if I want – he says, defiantly!) and came back to bed. I surfed through the channels. They’ve just made virtually all the channels digital (at least in Milan) and so there is a veritable feast of channels now available. It doesn’t make the programmes better, of course – a bit like satellite – there are just so many of them, mostly churning out the same pap. It’s the same in the UK except that the type of programme is slightly different.
There is, basically, a choice of two types of programme. There’s the singing programme where, in the main, there are some rather run-of-the-mill singers singing rather run-of-the-mill songs – probably with some half-naked dancing girls thrown in for good measure.
Or there is the interview/discussion panel. Here it allows the Italians to indulge in their favourite pastime (after eating, that is), namely navel gazing.
Apart from the Sara/Sabrina story which continues and is currently gripping this country, the rest is not of much interest – made much worse by the fact that I don’t understand so much, even if my Italian has improved.
I flick through the channels. Rete 4 is showing films. I pause. This looks interesting. It’s in black and white. No, wait. There’s a splash of red. Just one item, coloured red. I recognise this film. The volume is set low – if I manage to fall asleep with it on that’s OK.
Wait! Surely I misheard. It sounded like an English word but not ‘OK’ or ‘relax’ which are used here. Strange, I thought, so listened harder. Yes, they were speaking English. Well, American. It’s not dubbed as all the other films are!
Surely I know this film. The blonde-haired woman being beaten by some older, long-haired lout. He goes to the bathroom. As he’s taking a pee, behind him there is the bath with a closed shower curtain round it.
He shouts out something like “I don’t hear you making those calls”. This is to the blonde woman. We are looking at the back of his head. In the mirror in front of him, we see the curtain go back. Ah, yes, I do know this film. One of my all-time favourites. It is Sin City. I can’t help but watch it, especially as it is in English.
Even as I’m watching I think how stupid this is. I could, at any time, go to the DVD collection and get out the original! I could do this tomorrow and get some sleep now. But, already, I am hooked.
The film finishes (it was less than half-way through) although I keep thinking of a scene that wasn’t there. Or maybe that was a different film. I wonder if they cut it. Maybe.
I don’t turn the telly off although I do turn over and try to sleep. At some point, I do wake up enough to turn it off – without even looking to see what was on.
I sleep the sleep of the dead. It crosses my mind that these bloody headaches are for one of two reasons. Either I am so tired (which I am at the moment) or I am grinding my teeth again. Or both. Or it’s that I spend too much time in front of the computer. Or all of those and something else, like stress or something. Or it’s just in my head, so to speak. So, in fact, not one of two reasons after all!
I hear the alarm go off on my phone. It’s a piece of music that has a name but, I think, was especially composed by someone famous for Blackberry. I am sure that I pick the phone up and put it to snooze for five minutes. It is, after all, 5.40.
After a short while, I think I hear the alarm go again. But I’m not sure, aware, as I am, that the sound could just be playing in my head because I know it so well. I try to ignore it. It is persistent. Ah, well, even if it is not actually going off, I should get up. I reach for the phone. It is going off. I look at the time on the phone. It is 6.23! Not only is it going off but has been doing so for almost three quarters of an hour!
And, come to think of it, maybe I just dreamed that I put it on snooze. I am late. I still have my coffee after taking the dogs out. Rufus being a bit slower today and, possibly, after two days of feeling fine, ill again. Ah well, poor thing.
I have a shower and get ready. On getting to work (only 15 minutes late) I find that I have forgotten to wear a T-shirt under my shirt. And it is colder today. And I must book the flights to Copenhagen. Grrrrr.
No, I hate Mondays. And, so, I leave you with this. I’ve always liked the song.
Well, I’ve now been and it was lovely but, as I’m not from the USA (I guess), it was, more or less, like going to dinner at someone’s house.
I’m talking of Thanksgiving.
I’m talking turkey, mashed potatoes, and a rather glorious stuffing.
To be honest, I thought it was going to be an all-American affair (except for me) but it took on quite an International flavour. 3 Americans, 1 Canadian, 1 Australian, 1 Italian and me. The turkey (which I’ve never been mad keen on) was rather good and well cooked. The stuffing was fantastic. The wine and conversation flowed and we even had a rather difficult conversation with N & S all the way from San Francisco – the ‘difficult’ part being the connection which, unfortunately kept dying.
I got home at about 3.30 a.m. I then spoke to Ag on the telephone. She was in need of someone to talk to. It meant I got to bed about 5.30. I was, unsurprisingly, tired on Saturday. My headache was still here (but that could have been just ‘cos I’m tired).
F phoned me during the day on Saturday. He said that things were going rather well and he was going to be coming home that night so that we can go to a concert. He had booked it before he knew that he would be away and there had always been some doubt about whether he would be there.
He got home in the late afternoon and then we met up and went for a pizza at Liù (see link at side) – except Liù was full so we went to Time Out 2 instead. Then strolled down to Il’s flat and took a taxi with her to see Chiara Civello at Blue Note.
She was fabulous although I was so tired and we went to the second concert of that evening – it started at 11.30! He knows her because his ex, M, from Rome, knows her. After the concert we went backstage and I was introduced to her as ‘my new boyfriend’. I had been similarly introduced to someone who sat with us and was a friend from some time ago. She works for Moschino or somewhere like that. It was then added that I was a ‘real man compared to S’ – which always makes me smile – although I never, ever make any comment, of course.
Anyway, there are a couple of Chiara’s tracks at the bottom. I hope you enjoy them. She was lovely, always smiling and the music is really good.
Yesterday, as F is away, I had promised A that I would do Sunday lunch for him and Fr – you know, the Roast Beef type of Sunday lunch, which F would not enjoy so much.
A had baked some bread which we had with something that was like a light pâté that F had brought back from Germany. There was goose-liver and reindeer – they were delicious and not at all heavy as pâté can be sometimes.
Then we had the roast beef and, with my new cooker, the perfect Yorkshire puddings – YAY! I will do a post with the recipe since it has never, except once, let me down. The only reason it didn’t work before was my old oven, I was sure – and this proved correct when, this time, they were well risen and light – just as they should be. Also, when I had been in France last year, I had bought some red horseradish sauce – and it was quite hot, which I liked.
After that we had Apple and Blackberry Crumble with whipped cream. This was all followed by cheese (including Stilton) and some rather fine port, bought for me by a colleague when he went to Portugal. The problem was that then I just couldn’t stop drinking it. I had to ‘force’ myself to stop, even after A & Fr left.
Anyway, they enjoyed it – as did I.
I spent the rest of the evening washing up :-).
F is back on Wednesday as that is the day that the new shop will open. I will be very happy when he is back, as will Dino. And Rufus who is a LOT better. Thanks for all your kind wishes.
Anyway, enjoy Chiara – these are some of my favourite songs of hers.
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