Tag Archives: F Says…..

In which I almost lose my power of speech …..

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It was the shock.

We’re out for a drink with An, a friend who lives up the road from me. We’re in Polpetta and I’ve arrived a little later than them.

And I forget how it all happened because, to be honest, everything else beforehand became a little blurred.

F is talking about his house near Carrara. He’s talking about doing it up (as I may have mentioned before). During this talking previously, it has been mentioned that it would be done so that, in due course, we could retire there. Of course, “retiring” is something that I’m not sure I’ll get to but, no matter, it’s not for a few years yet. And, of course, the idea of doing it up is not only for that but also to go down there more often. F hates Milan (whereas I love it) and dreams of being somewhere else.

If the house was done up, we could, for example (he says), go down for Christmas, Easter and other times. We would have computers and TV and DVD players and so on. We would have nice (new) furniture and it would really be a home away from home. The dogs would have the garden and it would be totally “ours” (well, his really, but you know what I mean).

I’m happy with this. It would be nice. We’d have his family and friends nearby; we’d have the beach for the summer; the dogs love it – so everything would be good.

Then, last night, he’s talking about it with An and comes out with …..

“Once I’ve got the money to do it and it’s done, we’ll move down there to live.”

My face must have registered the shock of this statement. He adds, to me, “I didn’t tell you before but it means we get out of Milan.”

We had always suggested that, once the house was done, should we lose our jobs or something else happen that we could, if we wanted, move there permanently. But this was a slightly different twist. This was more like once it’s done, we move immediately!

“It’s OK,” he adds, “you can do teaching and editing and I’ll get a job.”

Well, that’s OK except, the pay for teaching down there would be less than here – and here it’s not so fantastic. Plus, teaching means no pay for December/January and mid July to mid September. I don’t know if he understands that.

Not that we would need so much, of course. But, still …….

Then, as we’re talking, he qualifies his shocking statement to “maybe we move down in 1, 2 or 3 years.”

But it was the feeling I had when he first said it. It was a little frightening, to be honest. Now, that seems stupid, even to me. But there you go. I was frightened by the thought.

On the one hand, he obviously sees the future with me in it, which is good. On the other hand …. well, I don’t know, really. I’m not sure why I feel a bit frightened by the thought that we could be there by this time next year. I almost feel “not ready”. It’s not a feeling I have, generally. I’m much more of a “take things as they come” kinda guy. So, in theory, it shouldn’t pose a problem for me.

And, yet, the unease remains. When I first met him I would have moved in with him the next day. Now, I’m more “it’s OK as it is”.

“We’ll buy all new furniture,” he says. “But what about my furniture?” I ask. “We’ll sell it,” he replies.

I pull a face. I’m really not so happy about that. I mean to say, I’m not that bothered about “things” but ….. they are my things and, in some way define a little who I am. I don’t want to get rid of them. I would if, say, we were moving to the other side of the world but, still, getting rid of all my furniture would mean giving up nearly everything I own. Then I really would, almost, have nothing, plus some things are irreplaceable. The grandfather clock and the bookcase are what I bought with the money my dear Grandfather left me. To part with these two things would be difficult.

And, yet, they are only things, so in reality less important.

They aren’t the reason for me feeling so unsettled about the possible move. Part of it but not really that much.

No, I don’t know why I feel like this. It’s not normal for me. Well, it’s not the “new normal” that came with the move to Italy anyway.

But after he said it, I was unable to speak at all for a few minutes.

And there’s still an element of shock that remains.

So, I guess we’ll see what happens. After all, F does tend to say things that don’t necessarily happen. So, let’s not panic just yet, eh?

I don’t really belong

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I don’t think I’ll ever be something other than a foreigner in a foreign land.

I mean, I’ll never be totally relaxed. I came to this realisation whilst driving the dogs to the pineta on Sunday morning. I reached the traffic lights and, as I sat there, waiting for the lights to turn green, it struck me again that it’s not the place I am “from”. To the right is a place that looks a little like a timber yard – except that it sells marble. To the left is what look like a run-down workshop – except that it is a place where marble is carved into headstones and statues. The weather is warm and there is not a cloud in the sky and yet it’s towards the end of September and I am dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. This is not deepest Herefordshire.

It’s not such a bad thing – it’s just that it is, in a way, a little bit frightening. I don’t know that you will understand that and I’m not sure that I do either. Still, there it is.

The night before I had been with the family. This was the close family. This was F’s Mum’s birthday dinner. So F’s Mum and Dad, his sister (with husband and niece), twin brother (and girlfriend) and him (with me). There’s no strangeness from his family towards me at all. I am accepted completely and surrounded by his family and, in some way, feel part of it.

We went to Ristorante Venanzio in the small town of Colonnata, near Carrara which is situated deep in the mountains and surrounded by the marble quarries, famous for their white marble. It’s also famous for it’s Lardo di Colonnato, which I love.

Normally, when we go to Carrara for the weekend, we arrive sometime on Friday night and, usually, we drop the dogs at home and then go to Bati Bati for a pizza. I always have the pizza with Lardo, asparagus and aubergine (egg plant to Americans). It is one of the very best pizzas I’ve ever had. And, even now, writing about it, my mouth is salivating (really)!

However, at Venanzio, we had Lardo as antipasto (along with a load of other, very nice, things) which was “to die for”. So tasty. F’s brother told me that they have a special source for it and you won’t find it for sale anywhere else, even in the small village of Colonnata. We had a selection of pasta dishes (my favourite being Lasagnetta with sausage sauce) and then, I had lamb. Unfortunately, like most of Italy, the lamb was only so-so. Not a replacement for La Brace. However, I tasted F’s rabbit with lardo. It was slices of a rolled rabbit joint with lardo and herbs filling it. It was incredible.

Service was excellent (but we were the first there). Sweet was a cake (as it was F’s Mum’s birthday) which was very nice.

It wasn’t so expensive – about €40 each, including wine (4 bottles), a glass of sweet desert wine with the cake and a digestivo. Would definitely go again, the only downside being getting there (or, rather, getting back). The only way is via a narrow switchback road from Carrara – so you really MUST NOT drink and drive!

Anyway, you should go there for the Lardo!

Sunday was a day on the beach and it was one of the best days on the beach. Now, being the end of the season, half the umbrellas have been taken away so there’s much more room and, of course, a lot less people. Now, at this time in September, you can sit in the sun all day without becoming too hot – the breeze is cooling, the sun not so fierce. And so we do.

F talks about coming down next weekend, if the weather is good. It will be the last weekend – the beach closes at the end of September, the café is doing some sort of buffet spread on the Sunday. F suggests we might take a few hours off on Monday so we can stay down Sunday night. Let’s see how the weather is.

But, even here, on the beach, I have the same kind of feeling as I had in the car. It’s not really my place. Even if I feel relaxed and read (I finished “Bring Up The Bodies” – Hilary Mantel, which was great, btw), I almost don’t really belong.

There will be a room for cleaning products!

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It should be good. Why on earth, then, was I felt left feeling uneasy? Almost to the point of being scared? It doesn’t make sense, even to me.

I’ve just spent three weeks at F’s flat in Carrara. It’s not the “perfect” house, by any means. First, he shares it with his brother (at the moment) and that means that his brother “leaves” a mess which causes stress to F (and so, to me).

Then the house has not been “done up” since it was built (more or less) – the kitchen is old (but serviceable); there is only cold water in the bathroom sink; the hot water boiler sometimes gives you hot water but, mostly, gives tepid water; the toilet has been “fixed” (since last year when we used to have to use a bucket of water to flush it) but the plumber or whoever did it didn’t clear air out of the pipes and so it makes a terrible noise (you have to leave the cold tap running in the sink until the toilet cistern is full); the garden is not really grassed as such but is full of that rough grass; etc., etc.

It’s a house (or, rather, two flats) built in the 50s, I guess. It’s not really my “style”.

But, I’m not complaining. It’s been great to go there for weekends and holidays. The dogs love it and this year even F agreed that we had a very relaxing holiday.

He wants to do it up. The old guy who lives upstairs is a sort-of relation. In any event, in his will, the flat goes to F’s brother (he who used to look like Johnny Depp but doesn’t any more). But it needs a lot of work done – new roof, the walls need to be re-done (as they’re letting in damp) and, as part of the deal, F will pay for the repairs and his brother will sign over his half of the ground floor flat to F. It just needs to be made to happen.

But F really wants this. And, the night before last when we were out with An (where I had tartare which was incredible – I will put details of the restaurant up later), F was excitedly telling her about what he wants to do with the flat. Which walls he was going to knock down, how he was going to arrange everything, how there would be room for me to do English lessons ……..

This is something (the English lessons part) that he mentions regularly. This is the good thing. Isn’t it?

Well, yes it is. It means he is thinking of our future, not just his. He’s thinking of us living there and me doing lessons as a real job (which, of course, is about the only thing I could do there).

And that’s the problem, I suppose. For one thing, I don’t really think of the future any more. I stopped doing that more or less after I left England. Now, even thinking about next year is a rarity, let alone a few years hence.

The second thing is that, although this future includes me, I don’t have any real say over how the house should be done. Oh sure, I’ve made a couple of suggestions but, as I won’t be paying for it, I don’t really feel I have any right to say much.

For example, he draws the furniture in. It’s not my furniture. I’m attached to the furniture I have. I know it’s not important and I try not to be attached to anything any more. After all they’re only “things” which are not really important (those of you who read my blog know this already), it’s experiences and friends and the dogs that are important. Things can be replaced, destroyed, etc. They have no feeling. But, you know, if I’m going to be there, in this future he’s creating, I want something of mine.

I think.

So, suddenly, I came over quite cold and scared. The future. A future with me. But without things that are part of me. All these things make me a little uneasy.

However, to lighten the post a little, at one point he is describing the “laundry room” that he will create. It will have the washing machine and some shelves. On one side it will have shoe storage (he’s a bit of a maniac about shoes – they have to be aired and they have to be stored – usually in individual boxes). On the other side, I suggested we could put the sheets, towels, etc.

“Oh no!” he exclaimed, “this is where we will put the cleaning stuff.”

I laughed and laughed. The room will be mostly cleaning products. As I pointed out, he’s the only person I know who would build a room for cleaning stuff. Bless.

Away

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Well ……….

Sorry for the lack of posts over the last few days but my phone is getting worse and I’m worried that it would break whilst I’m away. Obviously, I wanted to make sure that all my contacts and calendar entries were safe, so I looked online to determine how to transfer these to keep them safe.

Apparently, there’s no really secure way and so, over the last few days I have been transferring contacts and calendar entries across to my email system, manually. One day these phone companies will properly understand that you want to keep everything and transfer them to the next phone.

So, I have been busy and, also, someone at work asked me for historical details of a previous project – so, in between entering all my details, I have been finding this information and sending it to them.

And now we’re on the last day. There’s still some of the last task to do but, in about seven hours from me writing this (or earlier, maybe), I shall be on my way home for three weeks of holiday. As such, Internet connection will be more difficult (with my phone as it is and with the house not having Internet connection) and it is highly likely that I won’t post anything nor respond to anyone much over the 3 weeks. I can, of course, get access in an emergency.

And the plan?

Well, F has only 2 weeks (the first two of my three) and, given that, on the 14th and 15th August, Marina di Carrara celebrates the public holiday with fireworks on the sea (and Dino does not like fireworks), we may, if all goes well, go away to Umbria for a few days or even a week – somewhere away from people and, as long as there are places to walk the dogs and a swimming pool, we will be very happy. Also, for F, it means a real break – and that will make him very happy and so, in consequence, I, too, will be very happy.

If I get the chance to post something, I will, particularly if we go to somewhere in Umbria.

In the meantime, should you also be on holiday (Lola) or not (Gail), have a great three weeks and I’ll see you when I get back.

Maybe this will be the last year?

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“If my brother won’t do anything I don’t want to come here any more!”

He goes on to say that the beach place is expensive (which it is) and that he wants to be able to leave stuff in the house without it being moved or other junk being placed (or thrown?) in there all over the place.

I don’t say anything. What can I say? It’s not my house and not my family and not my home town. I don’t have any rights. But I am a little disappointed. But I don’t think he means it, really. I think it’s just frustration coming out. He’s coming down later next weekend, on the Saturday, and then staying a few extra days to do a proper clean and get the grass cut, etc.

I asked if he was going to try and get quotes for the work to be done. He said he wouldn’t have time. As I said to him, I was only asking – it really wasn’t a dig, just conversation.

But, in the event, he is getting the husband of an old friend to come over and give a quote – after the dogs and I have left.

In the meantime, I have finished another two books. This is not quite a book a weekend but quite close.

The first that I finished (weekend before last) was the one I really wanted to read above all, that is, Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel. And it was good. Absorbing and interesting and, of course, about Tudor times which, to us Brits, was the real “Golden Age” even if the reality was something very different. Now I have to get the next one, Bring Up The Bodies, of course.

Then, FfI lent me a book she said was really good. Which I read, mostly, last weekend and finished it on the Sunday afternoon. Now, I’ve read one of this guy’s books before. And there’s a thing about gay fiction. It’s at once interesting for me and boring as hell. Edmund White is, I suppose, the biggest name in gay fiction and, on the cover, it had some good quotes from famous writers.

But, for me, it leaves something to be desired. It’s not quite as brilliant as it had been made out. And, although the storyline was quite good, the last chapter was a complete let down – as if he’d HAD to finish it and didn’t really know what to write – and so he did it in a hurry. The book was “Jack Holmes and his Friend” and, personally, I wouldn’t recommend it.

In addition, I finally got a book that I should have ordered a couple of years ago. It’s by a friend of a friend and, I think, is self-published (which, to be honest, doesn’t bode well). Still, I’m supposed to recognise some of the characters. We shall see. I don’t think it will be my “next book” but we shall see. The book is “Quinn’s Way” by Steve Gray. As far as I know, it’s his only book. Well, I’ve bought it now and, at the rate I’m going through the books I did buy, I will need it.

But, next, I’m thinking of Dickens. That should slow me down a bit because it’s not really “light” reading although I do like Dickens and his stories and descriptions are always good.

The weather is getting hotter and hotter. The forecast for this weekend (in Milan) is somewhere near 37°C – which is very, very hot. Luckily, for much of it, we shall be by the sea, where it will be considerably cooler (I can’t believe I’ve just written “luckily”!!!!!) and much better for the dogs.

And it’s less than two weeks till the holidays :-)

Going to an Earthquake Zone?

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You may or may not have heard about the earthquakes that have been occurring in the Apuan Alps.

And, even if you had, you may not have thought much about it.

But, let me explain that Carrara, where F has his house and where we spend the summer, is overlooked by the Apuan Alps. In fact, Carrara is partly up the mountains. Where we actually go is the coast – but we’re talking a few miles.

So, Marina di Carrara, Avenza and Massa di Carrara have all felt the earthquakes quite a lot and, according to one newspaper, yesterday, people were fleeing from the beach at Marina di Carrara – which is where we have our umbrella.

And, next weekend, I shall be going there. F is working but we have the umbrella and he wants me to go as, otherwise, it doesn’t really make so much sense to take the umbrella for the whole season (as it’s not exactly cheap) and then only use it for a couple of weeks.

And, with the idea of fleeing the beach, I thought, initially that that was not such a clever thing to do. Of course, in different circumstances, I would stay – however, in my circumstances I would be racing back to the house. Not for me, you understand, but because Dino and Piero would be there and I would be worried for them and, most likely, they would be frightened.

So, let’s hope the aftershocks are all finished by next weekend.

p.s. the title is a bit misleading since the whole of Italy is an Earthquake Zone!

Dino, the vet and taking temperatures.

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The exchange went something like this:

“Dino did diarrhoea this morning and there was blood in it. Please take him to the vet”
“OK”
“If you can’t do it then I will do it”

Hmmmm. The thing is that he is VERY busy right now with the showroom sales starting on Monday. And then, because he will be involved in the showroom sales, he will be even busier.

So this was not a “I can help by taking him for you” – instead, this was a “I will take him if you don’t but I will make you suffer for it because I am far too busy to take time off work to take him”.

I’m not stupid.

Even if his understanding of English is not always so clear, the underlying meaning to this is flashing lights and ringing bells.

I ring the vet. Yes, bring him along but before 5 o’clock.

Which means that I have to leave work early.

Apparently, I have done everything right, so far. His temperature is taken. It is 38.6°C. It should not be higher than 39°C – so he is fine.

He has an injection of antibiotics for the stomach. Red blood, apparently, is common (although I knew that) it’s the black blood you’ve got to be worried about. Starving them (for a day) is perfect for diarrhoea and not to worry too much if it’s still not perfect. It is, after all, exceedingly warm (we’re getting highs of about 34°C at the moment with minimums, overnight of the low 20s.)

So, nothing to worry about.

Of course, I had also been a little bit worried – but not as much as him – so to find out that everything is really OK makes me feel better and I’m not too upset that I took him. It’s nice to know that all is OK.

Anyway, the weather is about to “half break” – i.e. it’s about to get a bit cooler and, maybe, we will have some thunderstorms. It’s likely to be under the 30s for most of next week.

I was advised by the vet that, if I get worried again, I should take his temperature myself. So, as well as some pills recommended by the vet, I go to the chemist later and buy a thermometer.

Later that evening, we go for a drink in Polpetta with An, his friend. I tell him that I have bought a thermometer and that I have written “DOG ONLY” on every surface of the box – to ensure we don’t get it mixed up with ours.

He is very excited. He wants to try to take the temperature. He thinks you just put it in the dogs mouth – this makes me laugh. However, good the dogs are, telling them to close their mouths and wait for a few minutes is very unlikely to work. Especially in this heat where they are panting most of the time.

I explain how their temperature is taken. He still wants to do it. He is quite crazy.

Living together – maybe not such a good idea?

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Perhaps living together is not such a good idea?

I mean to say, it would be great in many ways. On a practical level, we would save money (on bills, etc.), we could have a cleaner every day, there would be someone there with the dogs more often, I would live in a much cleaner house (hahahahahaha).

But, there would be downsides.

I would have to be “cleaner” (Don’t get me wrong, I do clean and stuff – I just don’t always put things away immediately, if you see what I mean), I would have to cook more often (which I do enjoy – but sometimes I just don’t want to bother) and ……………

I would become amazingly fat! More like a tub of lard. I am sure.

But let’s go back a bit.

You remember that I made him a courgette and ricotta tart because he was going to be home for days and I didn’t want him to just eat sandwiches or salumi (cold meat slices).

However, as a sign of how much he loves me (as he doesn’t really like cooking), he made me some ragù (Bolognese sauce to those who don’t live here) and bought some raspberries and spray cream.

So, last night, we had pasta with ragù, a very small slice of the tart I had made (he had eaten most of it during the day!) and then raspberries and cream (because he knows that is my absolute favourite sweet).

Bless.

However, I eat lunch at work (because it costs about 7 cents a day and I get a plate of pasta and a meat dish with some vegetable). Therefore, I don’t actually NEED any more food. OK, so, sometimes I will have a biscuit or two or a piece of chocolate in the evening – but, in general, I don’t eat. And, with him coming home from work about 7 and not getting to me until about 9, we don’t tend to eat – or, rather, he might eat but I don’t.

We do go out sometimes and, obviously, I can eat and do – but it’s a maximum of once or twice a week. I was very full last night after the food and I know that, after a few weeks of that, I would be the size of, if not a villa, a small flat.

So, maybe it wouldn’t be such a good idea to live together?

A fantastic Easter

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A day late, I know but, Happy Easter.

Probably, this was one of the best Easters I’ve had.

Yesterday, it was just the four of us. And, like Christmas, it was just us. F had cleaned the flat the day before and I mean “cleaned”. Doing the top of the cupboards, picture frames, etc. Stopping occasionally to show me the cloth. I’m afraid I was not really impressed since I knew that the cloth would show that neither I nor my cleaner do these bits (and, most certainly not I). However, it seemed to make him happy.

So the house was incredibly clean – what I would call “spring cleaned” even if the weather doesn’t really feel like spring – far too cold and wet and downright miserable. Still, at least we don’t live in the UK where they still have it in the minus figures and have snow and stuff.

We got up. I took the dogs for a walk whilst F cleaned (obviously!) the floors. Then we went to have breakfast and pick up the colomba (the traditional Easter cake here which is actually similar to pannetone – a kind of bread-like cake but with a different shape) and then we spent a few hours relaxing a bit before starting the lunch.

I was having lamb which, these days, I don’t eat so much since F will not eat it. Just lamb chops but better than nothing. I had made some fish cakes for him. Obviously, being in Italy, some ingredients are hard to find. I had walked the length of Corso Buenos Aries and back looking for the only fish shop I know in this area but, unfortunately, either it has closed down or it was closed for that day because I couldn’t find it. In the end I chose some salt cod and added a bit of smoked swordfish (it was supposed to be smoked haddock) which I got from the supermarket. The other ingredient I needed was cardamom seeds (but for the sweet I had planned). Again, this is not easy to find but, after trudging through the relentless rain on Saturday, eventually I found some in a herb shop.

So, Saturday afternoon was spent by creating the fish cakes and then doing the sweet. The sweet was a chocolate mouse (well, it is Easter). I think I used nearly all the bowls in the kitchen to create the chocolate mouse! Melted chocolate, separated eggs, whipped cream, orange juice and grated rind, etc.

And, so, Easter lunch was, in the end easy and lovely. F did a mix of courgettes, carrots and leeks, thinly sliced and fried until they were just soft. I did roast potatoes to go with the lamb and fish cakes. We had bought lasagne from our usual place. After an antipasto of some meats with bread, the lasagne for primo piato and the main course, we were both quite well fed. The fish cakes, by the way, were superb. I had make six and cooked two (the rest went in the freezer) but F only managed to eat one so the other will be for today, shared between us. My improvisation regarding the fish seemed to work fine.

We couldn’t eat sweet straight away and so took the dogs for a long walk. The sunshine was out and it was much warmer.

Then we came back and had the chocolate mouse (which was really good), a piece of colomba and some of the Easter egg that F had bought. And we finished off the bottle of wine – EACH! He had white and I, red.

And, as you see, nothing really special and, yet, very special, like Christmas – we spend all day together and cook together and take the dogs for a walk and, somehow, it is so relaxing and enjoyable and I really love it.

One day, hopefully soon, we shall be able to do that more often.

Dino is 5

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Well, he was 5. Yesterday.

Above is the cake, lovingly prepared by F.

It looks rather good, doesn’t it. Obviously, unless you’re a fan of steak tartare and dog biscuits and little dog treats that said, on the pack, “chicken sandwich”, which, of course, they weren’t, then you wouldn’t be so keen.

However, Dino liked it a lot. There was a smaller version, without candles, for Piero.

He also had lots of presents

as you can see. Although, I think that Piero enjoyed them even more than Dino did. All of the above were bought by Frankie. I bought chewy things like the one below

And, once again, the place was full of balloons :-)

I think Dino enjoyed it. Also Piero.

Their favourite toy is the big white chicken thing, at the moment.

Next is Piero’s first birthday at the end of April and, I suppose, we shall have to do this all again.