Tag Archives: Shopping

Special all the same.

Posted on by
5

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Italy….a little frustrating….part 2

Posted on by
Reply

I go back to the shop.  I am later than I would like and have difficulty parking.

The girl who sold me the deal is there (and she speaks good English).  I join the queue of about 5 people.  Not many except that there are only two assistants and each person takes at least 10 minutes.  We smile at each other in recognition.  It’s a weak smile from both of us.  She, probably because it’s been a long day (it’s already gone 6.30) and me because I am here again.

I notice a guy in the queue in front of me.  He was here on Friday too.  He had bought one of those mobile things for the pc.  Only it didn’t work properly since he tried to change from pay-as-you-go to a contract.  It seemed as if ‘the system’ couldn’t cope.  He was as unsuccessful as I was on Friday and was back to try again.  I nearly suggested we go for a drink!

Eventually I get to the girl.  She smiled and said she knew I would be here.  She went through the same things the girl on Friday had …….. and, in fact, from my perspective, it seemed that the girl on Friday just didn’t wait long enough.  On the same screen the girl had given up on, the system seemed to hang………..and hang…………….and hang………….but this girl knew the system better and we waited.  In fact, she served other customers whilst we were waiting.  But eventually it all came good and I am the proud owner of a new Blackberry!  Now, all I have to do is to set it up!!!!

But, in the end, I was in the shop for about an hour and a half!!!!  I kept thinking that, only here, would everything take so bloody long and require more than one visit.

However, it’s done now.  Her final words were that if I had any problem to come back but she hoped not to see me!  Bless!

Last night, we made a start

Posted on by
4

There was, of course, the trip to Ikea and other ‘out of town’ stores for looking at furniture.  Mainly for his new flat but also a wardrobe for mine.

He had the car from work.  He wanted to be there for about 9.30 a.m.  We stayed at his place.  I woke at about 7.30 first but dozed until it got to about 8 or 8.30.  I would have preferred to sleep in and, in fact, he said at one point, that, perhaps, we should go tomorrow.  I replied that if we didn’t do it today we might miss tomorrow and then, next Saturday, he would still be in Germany and really we should get up.  Even if I didn’t want that.

We got up, had coffee and then went to do the dogs.  Once the dogs had been walked, he drove to the first store.

Now, I should remind you that he is not so tall, slightly built and so very sweet, never really getting angry.  Well, that’s not quite true but almost.  He does have very strong opinions about certain things.  Take the Chinese family living next door to him.  He has threatened to kill them several times now.  Last night, with the children screaming and crying and much shouting going on, he finally snapped and went to get a shoe to bang on the wall.  It had the desired effect.

However, generally he is sweet and without real anger.  Until Saturday morning, however.

I have driven with Italians before.  Italians drive in a particular way.  Cutting each other up; Signalling left when they subsequently go right; Stopping suddenly to ‘park’ (we would say double park); Pulling out from a side road in front of you, etc.  It means you really have to pay attention to the traffic and expect the unexpected.  I do use my horn more often than I would in the UK but that’s because it is really one of the only ways you will survive here.

However, generally, I don’t swear and shout at other drivers.  Why would I? What’s the point?  It’s not like they can hear you and it’s not like it would change their driving habits either.  So I remain quite calm.

Other Italians, when I’m in the car, do tend to be more demonstrative when they are driving, both verbally and physically.  However, Saturday was a little different.  F became a different person from the one I knew.  It didn’t scare me or anything like that and he is quite a good driver but, in the half hour or so it took us to get to the first store, I probably heard all the Italian swearwords (and, in fact, a few more that I didn’t know before) and more than once.

As I pointed out to him, it’s a bloody good thing that our first ‘date’ wasn’t him driving me somewhere otherwise I would have thought him a very aggressive and uncontrollable animal.

As it was, because I know that he is only like this when behind the wheel, I found it somewhat amusing.  What amuses me further is that he is a little like this even when I’m driving!  However, not nearly as bad.

Saturday night we were meeting my friend G and going to the Brasserie Bruxelles on Viale Abruzzi.  A & F2 were coming too.

They have a rather excellent selection of beers.  Once again, F proved to be so good, chatting to A & F2 whilst G & I were able to catch up.  G saying that F didn’t really seem like an Italian – a little more Anglicised – and not only because he drank beer like any good Englishman.  G had phoned me to say he had arrived at the station and I told him what bus to get.  The F phoned to say that he was at the station (the car was being taken by another colleague) and could pick G up.  Of course, neither of them had each other’s number so there were a couple of phone calls with me in the middle.  However, F found G, even if they had never met before and then they got to the bar by car

Then we went for a pizza at Al Basilico, just a block down from the bar.

A & F2 were then going home but G wanted us (F & I) to meet R, the new girl in his life and so we went to this bar/restaurant/club place called Shanghai.

G is going back to the UK.  He hates the mentality of the Italians and the fact that it is so difficult to get things done here – every step halted by a wall that always seems impenetrable.  He hates the fact that the Italians are too busy (well, maybe this is particular to the Milanese) looking the part without the substance (which is also how F feels, certainly about Milan).  He’s been here for 10 years.  I explained that, being here for so long, there’s no way that he can go back and live in the UK.  For all that Italy and the Italians may drive you crazy, there are things that will happen in the UK where he will suddenly think how much he misses Italy (and the Italians).

But back to Shanghai.  I hate and loath these places with passion.  A huge hanger-like place.  Far too full of people; all busy being the best there.  We were going for a drink (but really to meet R).  She was very sweet and very, very pretty.  But neither F nor I were really happy about being in that place.  I mean, it’s a place for people that neither of us really like and exactly one of the reasons why G was going back to the UK ….. but he was there only for R, of course!

If I never get to go back to Shanghai again, it will be too soon.

We go home.  His home.  He wants to spend the night at his place because he has to get ready for his trip and because he wants to have Sunday breakfast at the café.  So, maybe, it’s his ‘thing’ too, after all?

We get up late(ish) and go to have breakfast which, as you know, I love doing.

I go and do the dogs, some washing, etc.  He gets ready for the trip.

I get back later and he does dinner.  I have brought wine and moved the car to nearby his place.

We don’t have dinner immediately.  When I arrive, he is getting ready for a bath, having spent some time doing his ‘beauty’ treatment stuff.  He is in his white underpants.  He is incredibly sexy.  I wonder, at one point, why I think he’s incredibly sexy and why does he turn me on so.  I don’t know.  There are things about him, his body, that, ordinarily, I would not find a turn-on and yet, here he is and every single part of him is so sexy.  Even his feet, which I think are beautiful!  I find myself looking at him and wanting him – all the time.  I sit and chat to him as he has a bath, concentrating on the chat to hide the fact that I just want to look at him.

After dinner he does his Farmville thing.  He sits on the chair with his legs crossed under him, without socks.  I sit next to him and stroke his feet.  I have never had any sort of foot fetish but, with him, I think I could!

I go home later to walk the dogs and come back just after 9.  We go to bed early as we are getting up at 5.30 – I’m taking them to the airport.

Neither of us can sleep.  Not because we aren’t tired.  We talk a little.  I tell him that I get paranoid when I’m not with him (about the lack of things in common) and I worry about that because this will be the longest time we’ve been apart.  I tell him that I know it is stupid and he agrees and says there is so much we can learn from each other.  And I know that is true, still, I think he’s starting to understand me and he is more affectionate than normal.  He tells me of the things going on in his head – the reasons he can’t sleep – work, the new flat, the lack of time to do everything.  I tell him not to worry and that everything will be OK and I will help him if he asks and that, at the very worst, he can stay at mine if everything is not ready.  He knows that and says so and says thanks and means it.  And we talk a little more about his actual work and why this trip is important both for him and the company.  And I have a better understanding of why he is where he is within the company.  He had said over the weekend that he will be introducing me to the big boss as his new boyfriend – and I think that he is proud to do so.  And that makes me happy.

He is having the test soon and is worried about that.  I ask him if he wants me to have the test too.  He doesn’t really say but I know that he does.  I tell him that I will do it.  I know it will make him happy.  He asks when I last had the test and I tell him that it was about 22 years ago.  He is shocked but I explain that there was no need.  I was only with V.  He asks if I wasn’t worried that V was with someone else and I said that no, I wasn’t.  And that was true.  at least it was true for the most of it.  Still, I know it will make him happy and he says it would make a big difference (and you can work that out for yourselves).

The Chinese people next door don’t help.

This morning, he says we’ll just have 5 minutes of cuddling before getting up.  Then another five minutes.  Then we get up.

He says he is so appreciative of me taking him to the airport.  I explain that it means extra time with him.  He doesn’t seem to get it – every second with him is like some sort of bonus.  He has said that I should not come and pick him up but agrees to it as I leave them at the airport.

And so, I shall pick him up on Saturday and be glad to do so.

And, in the space of the weekend, he has become even more demonstrably affectionate, as if he is understanding that I am true.  And, even if there is so much more to discuss, at least, last night, we have made a start.

Sardinian restaurant; V update and advice; my wine shop

Posted on by
2

Italians, as I have said before and as you would expect, have a thing about food. And, unlike the UK, it’s all very regional – however, I live in Milan and, here, we have restaurants from all over Italy. Last night we went to a Sardinian restaurant (Baia Chia – Vai Bazzini, 37).

It has, mostly fish (I guess because Sardinia is an island) although there are a few meat dishes. However, I decided on grilled Sea Bass for the main course and some raw tuna mixed thing for antipasto – this I shared with F who had chosen some prawn thing.

I have to say it was all delightful. When they came with the Mirto at the end of the meal it was, truly, the best Mirto I’ve had.

Not a big restaurant but well worth a visit – even if it is a little off the beaten track.

F admired the jumper some woman was wearing and said he wanted it…….so, partly as a joke and partly because it’s me….I went over and found out where she had bought it and gave the info to F – he seemed pleased but it may have been just because I had the nerve to ask in the first place :-)

AfL was lovely. F paid for the whole meal which annoyed both of us – but what was done was done…….it just means I have to be better at spotting what he is doing.

We walked part of the way back together and then I left them and went home.

____________________________________________________________________

Earlier, I had texted V to wish him well for Monday when he said he was going to go back to work. He said he wasn’t going back as he had had some results from the tests.

I phoned him. It seems he has a problem with some nerves in his wrist, which is why his arm keeps going numb and they have also found a problem with one of the valves in his heart!

I don’t know whether it’s serious or not. He would probably never tell me. We chatted for a bit, easily with many laughs.

I told him about the problem with the kid. He told me that, perhaps, I shouldn’t be my usual self and should be a bit more like him…..letting the guy down very, very gently. His opinion is that Italian men are about 10 years less mature than British men…..which would make the kid 20! Scary!!

I got him to promise that, in future, he would keep me up to date about his tests and health and joked that I would need to know so that I could come over and put post-it notes on the furniture I wanted!

He won’t keep me up to date, of course. I know him better than that.

_________________________________________________________________________

Later. I go to the wine shop. We are supposed to be going to his friends’ place for the meal tonight. I ask the guy for a really good bottle of dry white and a good bottle of sweet white. He has some expensive wines in the shop. By expensive I mean €60 plus. He points me to one costing €28 and says that is particularly good. More or less the same with the desert wine. It’s why I keep going back. And his choice is almost always perfect.

He tells me that he has some more Macallan 7-year-old whisky (I had bought for a colleague once) and would knock something off the price.

Really, this guy is good. Of course, it’s all in Italian and I don’t understand everything he says but I can rely on him. If you tell him exactly what food you’re going to eat he will pick the wine to accompany it. Love it.

Then F phones to say that we are now going to a restaurant anyway. Well, it’s not as if the wine will go off, so there’ll be another time.

I am learning but it seems a long lesson

Posted on by
4

It was misty.  Not misty so that it made everything wet but a ‘high mist’ that just made the skies particularly grey and half-hid the tall tower blocks, like they had had a thin veil draped over them.  I hate this period – you know it only leads to winter and cold and wet and unpleasant and that you have to go through all that to get to February and March when things get brighter and warmer (and less dark).

The guy was sitting there with a piece of paper, seemingly engrossed with its contents.  I cannot tell you what he looked like nor how old he was.  I sensed he was not Italian and I cannot tell you why.  I was standing next to him, eyes bleary, the contact lenses grating on my eyes, which were watering anyway.  I really should have taken them out on previous nights – it’s not good to leave them in whilst you sleep.

I glanced at the page.  It looked like some sort of poem, almost.  There were 15 lines, I counted them.  And a post-it note on the bottom of the page, the page having been torn out of one of those exercise books.  This page being from one of those commonly used to do graphs.  The writing was capitalised and neat – but, still, Italian, which I find difficult to read anyway – and I was looking over his shoulder; and my eyes were not at their best – so I just counted the lines.  Actually it wasn’t that difficult although it took me a few moments to realise that.  They were grouped in sets of four lines, just like a poem.  The last group only being three and yet, in my half-awake state, I started counting from the top before realising it was four times four less one!  I felt slightly stupid, even if there were good reasons.  I was only on the metro for about 10 minutes but, in that time, he studied the page as if it were some long and difficult thing.  Even with my poor Italian, it would not have taken more than 1 minute to read – and so, why?

I guessed that, either he was learning Italian and knew less than me or that it was just a ploy so as not to look at anyone else.  The ploy I use is to keep my eyes looking at the floor being, as I am, dressed as if I’m going for an evening out; with hair that has obviously not been through a shower or, even, combed; with eyes that still have the traces of sleep and, because of the conjunctivitis (a result of not taking out my lenses in the previous 6 nights away) look like shit, the bags deep enough to put a weeks shopping in them.

Yes, I look like shit.  I am grateful, in some way, that F didn’t really wake up and that, when I kissed him goodbye about 10 minutes earlier, the room was dark and he could not see me.

I wish there was some way of getting home without having to see people – well, there is but to try and find somewhere to park and then drive home and look for somewhere to park again would probably double the time of my journey home – and I am already getting up almost an hour later than I should although F doesn’t realise this.

I decide that I can’t continue this much longer.  I’m just too old for it.  I need more sleep.

_________________________

I had told him that A wanted to go to the outlet on Sunday – for shoes.  He didn’t know where this outlet was.  He said it was dangerous as he spent money.  I thought of V.  And not in a good way.  The difference is that, although we are a couple, I am not responsible for him……yet!  And so there is none of the worry.  But, I wonder: would it be the same?  I’m not sure I could go there again and yet, it seems I attract and am attracted to these type of men.  Boh!

The outlet trip depends on what AfL wants to do and ensuring that we get back on time for the dog.

He asks if I would like to go out tomorrow (that is now today) when AfL arrives – almost certainly they will go out and he wants me to come – if I want to come, that is!  There really is no need to ask.  With or without AfL, I would be there. He will call me.

So, it will be every day that we shall see each other except, maybe, Sunday, when I will go to the outlet with A, whether F and AfL come or not.

I worry about how F and A will get on.  I want to explain to F that, although A can be a bit, shall we say, abrupt, he has a heart of gold and is, really, really, a nice guy.  I want A to like him anyway.  Which he will.  Or, at least, he will say he does; only now is he saying that he hopes F is easier to talk to than V, who he found a little difficult!  Who knew?

We cannot be late back (if F and AfL come) as F is dog sitting, remember?  And so he must be back for the dog.  Who sleeps on the bed – did I mention that?  F will be putting a sheet over the top of the bed to keep the dog from getting ‘dirt’ on the actual bedclothes.

I also have a problem.  I can’t talk about it yet.  I need to sort it out and then, maybe, I can talk about it.  I sometimes think a brain transplant would be an excellent idea!

But, last night was wonderful.  I had missed him so much and yet, I cannot continue like this.  It is wearing me out.  I’m not 30 years old now; it’s not my own business; there are too many difficulties.  It would be much easier if we lived together.

Today F goes to sort out his flat.  I wished him good luck this morning as I left.  This morning he didn’t tell me he was like porcelain.  Perhaps, because, last night, I called him on it, saying I had seen the smirk the other morning.  He grinned and said but he was like porcelain in the morning.  I said that, perhaps, it wasn’t quite true.  We hugged and kissed.

I am learning but it seems a long lesson.

A good afternoon out; Gordon comes back tomorrow – yay!

Posted on by
2

A phoned me. Would I like to go out for a spot of lunch and then a walk round some exhibition. Sure, why not?

He also wanted to go to Il Salvegente, either the oldest or one of the oldest outlet stores in Milan. But first, being A, it was lunch. Once again I find myself in the Corso Garibaldi area although, after walking down there we went back to Fabbrica in Viale Pasubio (No2, to be precise), just down from Corso Como.

I like Fabbrica although the one in the Navigli is the best one (for atmosphere and pizzas, in my opinion). However, they’re good pizzas and I was able to tell him all about Gordon. To be honest (and I don’t know why), by the time he came round I felt in such a good mood. Maybe it’s because Gordon is back in Milan tomorrow night and, if I have my way, I shall be picking him up from the airport as I have mentioned.

After the pizza we looked in a shoe shop and, rashly, I bought some (quite nice) shoes for €30. They will do as ordinary going-out shoes and stop me ruining my really good shoes. They may only last for a year but, hey, at €30 I can’t really complain.

Then we went to 10 Corso Como. This is a strange mix of shop, gallery, bookshop and café. A nice atmosphere. We walked round the photo exhibition, which, to be frank, was boring, then round the roof garden which was open and then the bookshop. Then we had a coffee in the café area. It was a lovely day, the sun shining brightly although a tad too cold for me. Still, it’s October, so what can I expect!

Then we went to Il Salvegente. This was a mistake, really. Before, with V, to help curb the expenses, I would rarely, if ever buy anything on trips out like this. First I saw quite a nice top with some nice detail and only €18 – so a bargain. Then I saw a Dolce and Gabbana jacket, light grey, excellent with jeans, for €170 (reduced from €429) and it was just my size and really looked good.

I said to A that we really needed to get out of there as I would only see something else. In fact, I went out today with absolutely no intention of buying anything…….and now I have a pair of shoes, a top and a nice new jacket.

There are times when being without V is really nice. Now I can do what I want without worrying about him spending money we didn’t have. And I end up with some nice things for myself!

Finally, we had a quick coffee and then home. I finished off the web site check and sent off the document for corrections and enhancements and, therefore, feel that I achieved quite a lot today.

And, during our trip, Gordon gave in and is going to let me pick him up from the airport. I am so very happy about that. I will see him again and we shall have a little time alone.

In Como with true friends.

Posted on by
2

In_Como_with_true_friends

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before

Hotel California – The Eagles

And the conversation over dinner in this rather nice and not so expensive pizzeria, in some square in Como, was a distraction from the current feeling and A was very concerned and, what’s more, I could see it in his eyes. For all that I complain about him, I could tell that this was true and that, even if he thinks I am some sort of alien, he does, really, actually, care about me as a friend. And I am grateful for that.

He has said he will call me from his holiday to check up on me and see how things are going.

I am supported by friends and, even if they cannot take this away from me, it is good to know that if or when I crash and burn, they will be there.

We had been to Fox Town, as I mentioned a couple of posts ago. I had wandered round Iceberg and found a very nice, blue suede jacket/shirt thing. I tried it on because it was so nice. It had the outlet price as half of the original but was just way out of my range and I wouldn’t have paid so much.

I had put it back on the rail and had wandered around more of the store, picking things up, giving a cursory glance, putting the stuff back. Neither caring nor interested, really, in what I was doing.

A came over to explain why they were taking so long. It seemed that the 60 or 70% sticker was the extra discount, not on the original price but on the discounted price. At first I didn’t believe him. But he insisted. So I went round to the rail on which this blue shirt/jacket was and calculated how much it was now.

It’s one thing that V has given me. I know that, this thing, although only a thing and, therefore, not important, can be worn for years and still look good. So, suddenly the price was not only affordable but, for something that will be worn so much, well worth it. I was very happy about it, as much as I could be given the circumstances – and it was the first time I have bought something that I didn’t strictly need for about 3 years.

After shopping, we were to have gone to Lugano but because it was late, we went to Como instead, somewhere I have never visited before (although I have been on a train through the station).

We sat and had aperos overlooking the Duomo and then went to the pizzeria which had been recommended. The pizza was good – not the best – but good. I’m sorry but I forgot to take a card so I cannot tell you the name.

And there, rather than pooh-pooh my story, which, in any event was difficult to explain and posed as many questions as it gave answers, is where A showed how genuine he was; how understanding; how much of a friend he was.

His advice coincides with my plan. I don’t know whether it’s the right thing to do but it is the only thing I can do. The only question now is ‘how’?

However, right now, with this tiredness and the situation, I could burst into tears – which is certainly not a very blokish thing to do – but I can tell I am only a step away from that. Let’s hope I can keep it together until I get home, at least.

In other news…..

Posted on by
4

In_other_news_1

I am afraid, in spite of my promise not to post, I still am. However, the bulk of the insanity is now relegated to elsewhere and I am making a serious effort to lighten this one up a bit, not least because it was becoming a bit of a bore.

And so, in other news:

I cannot get really angry with Dino. This morning, as I was getting ready for work, I glanced over and saw what looked like something white on the front of my shoes, which I had not put on yet.

I went over to find it was not white on the shoe but rather the floor showing through what should have been the front of my shoe. And they were relatively new shoes too! To be honest they only cost me about €15 from the market and I can always get some more. Whilst I can’t get so angry with him, Dino will be banned to the kitchen until further notice. And he’s been doing so well recently, too!

S, my colleague that I mentioned in the last post, told me that, whilst she was on holiday and her husband still at home, her dog had committed suicide! Stop laughing because, really, it’s not funny. Now, she had told me, in the past that C, her husband, never got on well with Carmilla (the dog – and here, I’m not referring to our latest Princess of Wales). Anyway, S went to the holiday flat with the kids leaving Carmilla and C alone together (he was working). It seems that, at the ripe old age of 15, this resourceful dog, whilst not exactly going into the kitchen, getting a bread knife and slashing whatever her wrists are called, squeezed herself between the railings on the balcony and jumped to her death! I just can’t help but have this sneaking suspicion that C, having had enough, kicked her and, unfortunately, she went flying over the balcony but, obviously, he can’t tell his wife and kids that. However, with her having lived in the same house for 15 years, the idea of jumping off the balcony herself sounds, well, quite absurd.

To go back to the current insanity, just for a moment, for the second morning running, I have been wide awake at about 4.30 a.m. And I don’t seem to feel really tired which I find quite amazing. I don’t start off wide awake but as soon as I start to ‘come to’ I start thinking and that’s the thing I really need to stop, that and the pain-which-is-not-real-pain that causes my stomach to churn and ache as if I am hungry and full to sickness all at the same time. Once I can get those two things sorted, I’ll be fine.

Still, this 4.30 thing has one advantage. I get up and take the dogs out and don’t have to rush. I don’t have to rush over coffee and I don’t have to rush to work, arriving earlier than I have to, meaning that, in theory, I could leave a little earlier, if I wanted.

Finally, I’ve been invited to a party by FfI. Interestingly, during the conversation she mentioned that the Weasel would be there. Is it possible that my lusting after him was noticed after all? You know what women are like with these things whereas us blokes can be pretty useless. Although, I am aware that, in my madness, I don’t quite realise that things I think are ‘secret’ are, in fact, known by everyone around me. This can, of course, lead to much embarrassment later on but I am finding that, being in the middle of such madness means I am incapable of determining when I have crossed that magic, invisible line from being unobserved to slightly, or worse, completely, blatant. I didn’t ask as that would have made it much worse. We wait to see what happens. Let’s hope I can keep myself in check enough.

Saturday morning, I shall have to revisit the market for new shoes. Ho hum.

Making a new purchase is difficult

Posted on by
2

Making_a_new_purchase_is_difficult

I’m not really what you would call “a shopper”.  In spite of V’s 20 years of trying to make me one.  And now that I don’t have him to “force” me to do so, I find that putting off making that purchase suits me just fine.

So, I really could do with some new shirts and there’s a shop just down the road with shirts for €10 so there’s no excuse, really.  But still, when I pass, which I do often, there’s always a good reason why “this moment” is not the right time.

The same is true of the table that I really want but just can’t be bothered to get in the car and drive to get, which is annoying, even to me and yet, not annoying enough that I actually do something about it.

However, if I need to shop or are in a situation where I am with others who are shopping, purchasing can be quite easy.

Food shopping I do actually enjoy.  Not going to the supermarket, exactly (but even that is quite nice if I have a recipe/meal in mind) but looking round interesting food shops (which I have been doing some of whilst abroad, recently).

And when I was getting my passport renewed, we were stuck for some hours in a town and I managed to pick up a couple of very nice T-Shirts for a very reasonable price.  For clothes shopping, the way that works is I walk into the shop, take a quick glance at the rails I can see and quickly determine if there’s likely to be any chance of finding something I will like.

I go to the rail and quickly flick through the things and only if there is something slightly unusual or interesting do I bother to even pull it out.  Then, if I can’t find my size within milliseconds I find an assistant who can do all the looking for me.

So, as you can imagine, finding something more “technical” quite fills me with dread.  Although I seriously need a new computer, I just cannot go looking.  The same with a new mobile phone.  You see, the problem is that there is too much choice and you can’t tell what you want just by “browsing” through a store.

However, I thought that getting a new vacuum cleaner would be a bit of a breeze.  Although I had put it off for about 2 months, I decided, yesterday, that I really had to do it as I cannot beat out the big rug – it’s just too big to go over the balcony and I was finding it difficult to clean.

I knew what I wanted.  A Dyson.  Now there’s a simple thing, I thought.  I go to the shop in Corso Buenos Aires that I know.  As I get to the right area I see an array of vacuum cleaners.  Not a good sign.  I find a few Dysons.  Actually, a few too many!  There’s one for allergies, one that says “Origin” (meaning original?) and a few others.  They are expensive so I briefly toy with the idea of a Hoover or similar equivalent but remember that the Dyson is definitely better.

I pick one as if sticking a pin in a map and deciding where to go.  It’s the Origin.  Not the most expensive but would seem to be the right one.

The one on display is the last one they have.  I ask for a discount.  They won’t give me enough and so I leave.  I decide to go to the other shop of theirs that is between Piazza Oberdan and Piazza Repubblica.  I can get the same one there that hasn’t been on display.

I go to the right areas for vacuums.  Here they have even more choice of Dysons!  There’s even one for Pet Hair!  Who would know that you could have a cleaner that was specifically designed to get all the pet hair up?  However, that one costs almost €200 more than the normal ones.  Although I may need it, I am not paying so much extra.  But there were at least another 4 different types!  Why?  Too much choice in this sort of thing just makes me want to walk away.

Anyway I plump for the one that I think will suit.  The girl has a good time (not) searching for one that has the correct tool for both hard floors and rugs but, eventually, finds one. I pay and catch the tram back home, grateful, in fact, that the tram stop is right outside and that I didn’t have to lug one from their other shop.

I put it together at home but didn’t actually try it as I am feeling so tired following my recent trips.

I decide to hoover up this morning.

I try to find a socket or adapter that will take the plug.  None do.  My flat is old and uses a special (old) type of socket that requires special adapters to permit normal plugs of today to fit. However, I was surprised that none of the adapters would work. Damn!

So now I will be back to the shop on Monday to find (hopefully) an adapter that works.  The cleaning will wait.

Friends come round for dinner

Posted on by
4

Friends_come_round_for_dinner

Now, here’s a thing. When I first met V, he could cook Spaghetti Bolognese and that was all. Over the years he became quite proficient at cooking and we entertained quite a lot. I would always do the sweet whilst he would do most of the other things.

However, now that V is no longer there, I am back to doing my own thing.

Whilst in the UK, I bought quite a few pieces of Stilton and Cheddar. Also, from Londis in Hay-on-Wye, the best smoked bacon I have ever tasted. They cut it and vacuum pack it on the premises so it’s not like supermarket bacon which shrivels as the water content vaporises but it stays almost the same size and is really very tasty.

So, as I am determined to demonstrate to Italians that the food from the UK is not like they think, I had promised A that I would do dinner, mainly so that he could try the Stilton (with Port, of course).

Friday night was a night out with colleagues at an agriturismo called Ai Boschi in a small village called Origgio, not far from Milan. The nice thing about agriturismos is that they grow a lot of their food on the premises. I suppose they are an extension to the British ‘Farm Shop’. Agriturismos will have a restaurant and, quite often, rooms. Unfortunately, they are not all great. This one was, well, mediocre.

It meant that I did not get home until about 2 a.m. I had already said to A that dinner would be Saturday or Sunday depending on how things went (cleaning the house, etc.). As it was, I actually got up about 11.30 which was very late for me. And put me all behind.

However, I made the supreme effort to clean the house and, finally, at about 7 p.m. went shopping. I managed to make it in time to get the Port from the little off-licence near Corso Buenos Aires so called A to say we were on for the dinner.

To start, I had a baked pasta dish, given to me by G, our cook at work. Then I made a warm bacon and chicken salad – the bacon from Londis and the salad including salad cream which I had also picked up in the UK. Finally, cheese, British cheese biscuits, apples and port.

A made some big thing about me being able to cook and it made me think that V did most of it after all. A didn’t know I could cook whereas, in reality, it was me who taught V how to cook.

The meal was a great success. F really loved the bacon and the Stilton, which made me very happy. My first dinner in the flat!

Sunday I went for brunch at A&F’s. M, A’s friend was there too. As he pointed out, it was more like a wedding breakfast! Many courses and it lasted for hours.

And, the weather over the weekend was great so a good weekend all round.