Benvenuto to all my Loyal and New Followers
My apologies for the lateness of this post, but I have been battling with a really lousy internet connection….
Giorgio Armani Man
My man left for London on the Monday morning and the doorbell rang in the afternoon. I hung out the bathroom window, which is above the main gate, and thought ‘Wow, one gorgeous man leaves, then two arrive and, my god, one of them is clutching my novel! Both men are Italian, tall, wearing Armani suits and hand-made shoes. “Buona Sera Signora, We have come to invite you to a meeting in Certaldo on Monday.” I am flushed with delight. “A book signing?” I gush. “Err, well, a book reading actually, are you interested?” Well this all sounds too good to be true, so to check that I am hearing correctly, I ask if they speak English. The tallest one smiles, flashing his perfect teeth. He takes the book from under his arm and holds it up. Hang on a minute, that is not my book, it’s a wedge of orange leaflets. “Please to come to a memorial for Jesus Christ.” “Jesus Christ!” I echo. “Yes, Signora, we will be reading err, book of Mormon…” He opens a leaflet and shows a picture of Jesus looking very American and I swallow my disappointment. “Oh, how nice, pop it in the post box beside you,” I say gracefully.
Would my week get better I wondered? Hurrah, brightly wrapped Easter eggs adorn the shelves at Laura’s Bar/Alimentari in Fiano, and there are two lotteries to buy tickets for. I would not want any of the prizes that range from a huge box containing a tea & coffee set with fruity lemon designs, to a water filter, Easter Cake and Eggs. Alessandro our rotund friend and local sports paper reader, has displayed some ‘attractive’ glass vases and a roulette set on a separate table, as he is representing the lottery for the local football club. So, naturally, I buy tickets for both. As you can imagine, there is a huge following for the Easter Celebrations in Italy and Pope Francis has already been performing in Roma. He is so hands on with the people, that I expect to see him ascend towards heaven and then do a belly flop into the crowd like a rock singer!
A clutch of Italian men, one with olive branch.
Photo J Finnigan
In Montespertoli on Sunday, the congregation poured out of church carrying olive branches, which is traditional here. Those wanting to be a little less obvious, had them sticking out of their pockets and handbags; some of the women did too.
Wisteria over the car port.
Photo P Finnigan
New flowery arrivals this week have included masses of wild red poppies in the hedgerows. In the garden Wisteria, Jasmin and Night Scented Stocks fill the warm air with heady perfume. One could almost get drunk, breathing it in!
My man returned on the Friday and the next day we are enjoying coffee in Fiano, reading Il Terreno, which is a better newspaper than Il Nazione. However, I do quite like the reporting on visiting Bands and theatre in the back of the latter.
A crotchety moment for Silvio
Photo Il Terreno
Suddenly, I am roaring with laughter! Only in an Italian newspaper will you see a photo of Silvio Berlusconi clutching his…..well, vital bits! I show the picture to Laura and Benedetta who laugh and say, that all Italian men do that when they are feeling insecure. At the age of seventy-six, SB obviously still has something worth clutching, so that’s in his favour….
Meanwhile, I forge on with the ‘Bolivian Connection’ and three more chapters are under my belt. Farty Barty is very happy with life and the grandchildren will be here for an overnight stay on Easter Monday. So a double dose of chocolaty Easter celebrations for them.
Ok, must finish here, as the day job is calling.
have a great week and don’t forget to check out my author page at https://www.amazon.com/author/junefinnigan
Salute June xx
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