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Posts Tagged ‘Berlusconi’

Benvenuti to all my lovely Loyal and New Followers

Last week was undoubtably one of the busiest this year.  so I thought I would get in to calm mode and take you out into our garden.  Firstly to look at the plants and then to enjoy an evening glass of Chianti with my man.

Lovely Clematis on the upper terrace. Photo J Finnigan

Lovely Clematis on the upper terrace.
Photo J Finnigan

It is the time of year to get the Clematis and Pansies into beds and pots.  Now don’t think this is something I spend a lot of time doing, unfortunately I don’t.  It’s a question of dashing outside for half an hour, in between work and writing.  On Saturday mornings we tend to drop down to Certaldo for coffee, buy veg, fruit and cheese and if we are lucky, some plants assuming our lovely plant selling lady is there.  She was there last Saturday and, it being the first one of the month, there was also stands selling handbags and shoes!  I put on my blinkers and headed over to buy plants, as time was short.  I needed to get back and write another chapter, which was burning inside my brain.  So we got the C’s and P’s and I managed to plant the former when we got home, before dashing upstairs to my keyboard.  Come the evening, it was all so worthwhile, enjoying a wine or three and the splash of colour in the freshly planted pots.

Back at my keyboard, I was agonising over one of the evil characters in my current novel, ‘The Bolivian Connection.’  Sapphire is an Italian hired assassin and I felt I had made her too horrible in the scene I had just written.  She came across as a pathological killer, however, it did not feel right.  So I finally changed the murderous act to be something she regretted, but deemed necessary.  Now I am happy and am able to forge on without doubts!

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The last orange of the season. Photo J Finnigan

Returning to our garden, the man has been tidying and trimming, and the air is heady with the smell of grass and hedge cuttings.  I just love that.  We have two terraces and tend to enjoy our evening aperitivo on the upper one, with distant views between  Barberino Val D’Elsa and San Gimignano.  Yesterday I sliced into our last orange of the season for our aperitivo, however, thankfully the trees are already heavy with new green ones.

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A bottle of Chianti to warm the cooler evenings. Photo P Finnigan

Later in the evening, we enjoyed a bottle of Claudio Corbenelli’s delicious Chianti.  We can actually see his farmhouse across the valley from here.  The evenings are cooler now, but as long as the wind stays light, it’s still plenty warm enough to sit outside.  Also, there has been a bright moon over the last few days, all very beautiful.

There has been a rash of American tourists here over the last two weeks.  I don’t say rash unkindly, we have met some very nice ones.  We have an American friend who owns a property nearby and we met some friends of his who were staying at his house while he was away.  They were hugely enthusiastic about being in Tuscany and we were able to give them some pointers.  If you guys are reading this, we hope you have a great holiday and we recommend you to pop into the Alimentare/bar in Fiano for a coffee, fresh bread and groceries.  I also managed to slip a few of my author cards their way!  We met them at C’era una Volta,’ one of our regular restaurant haunts and it has proved quite a good hunting ground for potential readers of Romantic Thrillers!

The Italian James Bond

The Italian James Bond

On that same subject, I wonder if Silvio Berlusconi has read ‘My Father, The Assassin’, my current published novel?  Theres a hint of mafioso links in the book.  Does he find time to read?  Probably yes, he has so much more time on his hands these days.  There seems to be very little going on news wise, so I have just downloaded ‘Silvio Berlusconi – A Biography’.  I know, don’t say anything…..  Did you know he was a former film star and singer?  Well apparently he made two films, ‘Mediterraneo’ and ‘Volere Volare.’  Watch this space.

Well back to the day job and some more writing this evening.  Thank god for the local wine.

Have a great week.

Salute June xx

ps visit my author page at http://www.amazon.com/junefinnigan/author

 

 

 

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Welcome to all my Lovely Loyal and New Followers

Big fat juicy grapes from a neighbouring vineyard. Photo J Finnigan

Big fat juicy grapes from a neighbouring vineyard.
Photo J Finnigan

Most of you will know that by the end of September, the bulk of the grape harvest will have been completed.  It seems to have been particularly frenetic over the last two weeks with tractors and trailers roaring past our little villa, empty and rattling one way, then smelling wonderful with a big load of fat purple grapes on the way back.  Like some crazy person, I have been dashing out trying to get a photo, but they are gone too quickly!  Finally, I was on the way back from coffee and there was a parked trailer waiting for a tractor.  Whoopee, I screeched to a halt and took the photo, with the sound of the tractor arriving full pelt down the track behind me, in a thick cloud of dust!

The Museum st San Marco in Florence after the storm. Photo The Florentine

The Museum st San Marco in Florence after the storm.
Photo The Florentine

Florence and a large part of the valley around the city, was hit by a ferocious tornado just over a week ago, and whilst you may have heard about this and that the city was ankle-deep in hail stones, some the size of golf balls,  you will not have realised just how devastating this was for the crop farmers in the region.  Whole vineyards were destroyed, buildings badly damaged and the estimated cost is several millions of euros.

Getting work is difficult enough in Italy, however, the Italians are very good at creating ‘jobs for life’ in the most devious ways.  We have a local man who drives a little truck loaded with a shovel, broom and little else.  Now, he is employed by the local commune to keep the gutters free by the side of a B road and he is out in all weathers.  We have a lot of water running off these hills and it is important to keep the roads flood free.  Our man shovels the mud and silt from the gutter and throws it back up the hill from whence it came.  Yes, you’ve worked it out, it quickly washes down again as soon as it rains!  So here is a job for life.  By the time he’s worked his way from one end of the steep curving road to the other, he needs to start all over again.  Nevertheless, he is a popular character and locals often stop and chat, no doubt recognising a kindred spirit!

Lovely wild yellow daisies by the side of the road near our villa. Photo J Finnigan

Lovely wild yellow daisies by the side of the road near our villa.
Photo J Finnigan

I have recently had a letter from the USL in Certaldo, that is the local Health Centre, telling me that I will not automatically get a discount on health services and medicines unless I go and put my plastic health card (Tessera Sanitaria) in a new machine to register.  So I go and there is a massive queue.  I get to the machine and it asks for my password; I did not know I had one.  So I get in the other queue of people who are also confused by the request for a password, and wait for nearly an hour for the single lady at the desk to be free.  By then, I still have at least ten people in front of me, so I give up and go with four other frustrated ladies for a prosecco in the local bar.  Only in Italia…..

Nearly finished the Chianti and onto the Crema di Limoncello at C'era una Volta Restuarant. Photo J Finnigan

Nearly finished the Chianti and onto the Crema di Limoncello at C’era una Volta restaurant.
Photo J Finnigan

Meanwhile, life continues at a gentle pace in our local village of Fiano.  Lots of grey-headed tourists are wandering around, September is a popular time for the oldies, and I hand out my author cards to several English and Americans visiting Laura’s cafe bar/alimentare.  My man thinks I should keep a box of books in the car and sell them directly to the tourists and sign them.  Perhaps he’s right.  There is no way I can tell if my book has been bought on-line by someone who had my card.  Over coffee, I note that I have new photos arrived on Facebook.  “Do you have a Facebook account now, some family photos have been posted?”  I ask my man, who is deep into Il Nazione newspaper. “No, but that’s alright, I know what they look like.” He returns to his paper. I sigh.

Last night, one of our favourite restaurants C’era Una Volta, was very busy with a mix of Italian, German and Swiss.  We met another really nice couple from Germany, Helta and Harold.  If you guys are reading this, we hope you are enjoying your holiday.  Today, Sunday, we are ringing the changes and heading off for San Vivaldo near Montaione, as we have heard about an interesting restaurant called Il Focolare, which will be having vegan fest in October and is in the grounds of a historic monastery.  We have vegan friends, so it would be nice to take them somewhere where they can relax and enjoy their food.  It is not difficult to eat vegetarian in the area, but vegan dishes are harder to find.  So we are off to check it out first.

Silvio at AC Milan Photo Antonio Calanni/Associated Press

Silvio at AC Milan
Photo Antonio Calanni/Associated Press

I’ve just checked on the gorgeous Silvio Berlusconi, and it seems he is back in the news.  However, he spends much of his time visiting his football team, AC Milan by helicopter, where he has been photographed a lot with the players.  This is outside the four hours a week he spends doing social work at a hospital for those suffering from dementia.  I’m surprised he remembers to turn up.  Apparently, he recently met up with his rival, the prime minister Renzie, but I can’t find anything interesting to say about that.  I expect his little dog Dudu would be able to tell us a few interesting facts, perhaps I’ll give the mutt a call.

So, its back to the real world, an aperitivo on the upper terrace, gazing at the sunset lighting up the few clouds in the sky, going for coffee in the mornings and greeting the locals, doing the odd bit of work and writing my current novel.  Life can be hard at times.

Have a really good week and don’t forget to read ‘My Father, The Assassin’ before I publish the sequel ‘The Bolivian Connection’ later this year.

Salute June x

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September Hawthorn berries on the edge of our upper terrace. Picture J Finnigan

September Hawthorn berries on the edge of our upper terrace.
Picture J Finnigan

Benvenuti to all my New and Loyal Followers

This morning, I am writing to you from Beautiful Tuscany and feeling a little under the weather.  This is nothing to do the weather outside;  in fact it is luke warm and sunny, gorgeous in fact.  No, I over indulged in Verdure Sott’olio yesterday, which simply means Vegetables under oil.  However, Sot’olio is often and usually is, a very hot spicy oil prepared with chilli peppers and garlic.  Lesson learnt.

Back at Laura’s Bar/alimentare in Fiano, Sig Rotund is again pinching the Sporting paper from right under the nose of an old boy who was still reading it.  He sits down at the same table pulls his T-shirt up, exposing his over generous belly to clean his glasses, and starts reading.  The old boy smiles approvingly, as if Sig Rotund is royalty and appears pleased to have the honour of having his reading session interrupted so rudely.  Meanwhile, Laura takes a plate and flops a generous mound of ricotta on it and covers it with sugar.  She sits down at an adjacent table to eat it.  She sees me staring and shrugs, “It helps to keep me going, now that I have given up cigarettes…” she says, in Italian of course.  I blow out my cheeks and hold my hands out in front of me giving the impression of a big stomach, well bigger than the one I already have, and she nods, stuffing another big spoonful into her mouth.  Last Sunday was Laura’s thirty-fourth wedding anniversary and when I asked if she celebrated with candles and amore, she shrugged and shook her head.  Her man is very nice but has the speed of a striking slug, bless him.

Locals are still parading around with suntans that range from bright orange to dark chocolate-brown. The beginning of September is the return to work after the August break and the Italians are very proud to be sporting evidence of their visit to the seaside.  This year however, the weather has been awful with a lot of rain and cold winds.  But the sea air usually does the trick anyway.  The tourists are now very grey haired, as the children return to school and the oldies come to Italy.  Particularly from England.  Now, it is rare to meet an interesting English grey head, but we did have fun with a couple who were introduced to us in the restaurant by Gianluca the waiter.  The husband was a Londoner and a driver/chauffeur for forty years and had some fun stories about that.  His lovely lady partner was his third wife and he explained that his first wife died from too much alcohol.  “I went down the pub, got filthy drunk and went home and shot her!” he said very seriously.  “Then there was the time I met Princess Anne.  She said, ‘are you local?’ No, love, I said, I was born just down the road from your Mum.”  If you guys are reading this, it was fun to meet you both!

The Red Knight, 1968 edition, originally published in 1921 Picture J Finnigan

The Red Knight, 1968 edition, originally published in 1921
Picture J Finnigan

Some English can be very rude in restaurants.  Most of you will know that this is the land of slow food.  Wine, water and bread will arrive quickly, however, the rest is cooked to order.  Last sunday a family of four arrived in the busy restaurant and were shown a table.  We could see from our vantage point that they were not comfortable with the normal loud conversation and busy atmosphere.  Within ten minutes, they upped and left without cancelling their order, that kind of behaviour really annoys me!

But enough of that.  I am so lucky to be surrounded by music, words and amore.  Amore being my man, of course.  We both read a lot and he is currently deep into a novel called ‘The Red Knight’ by Francis Brett Young, first published in 1921.  There is a prolific use of adjectives and adverbs in this book, like many others of that time and indeed up to the sixties, and the words are just beautiful.  ‘Mellifluous’ is the best word to describe this style of writing, which means ‘sounds and utterances that are rich and harmonious or flowing with honey or sweetness.’  Sadly, modern readers and writers no longer appreciate this style of writing.  I find this very sad, however, I somehow try to write with some compromise in both directions.  A few years ago, the first literary agent who looked at my initial attempt at getting a novel published told me to cut out all the adjectives and ‘modernise’.  What do you think?

Silvio looking very Mafiosi. Photo Reuters

Silvio looking very Mafiosi.
Photo Reuters

Well, hello again to Silvio Berlusconi, who has just popped his perfectly made-up face, topped by his neat rows of hair implants, above the parapet.  It seems he did recently attend a football match between AC Milan and Lazio.  He also flew to Reykjavik where a local taxi driver told him that the only thing likely to make the earth move there was the eruption of the volcano Bardarbunga.  SB was also spotted fiddling with a discretely hidden hearing aid.  News also has it that Toto Riiana, an imprisoned mafia man, was overheard saying in the prison yard, that SB paid the Sicilian Mafia protection money between the seventies and the nineties.  Well, perhaps no surprise, but at least things are getting interesting again!

Farty Barty in his terracotta pot on windowsill. Photo P Finnigan

Farty Barty in his terracotta pot on windowsill.
Photo P Finnigan

I am getting on well with the ‘Bolivian Connection.’  I am hurtling away with the storyline and will go back to fully painting the picture when I have finished.  It’s rather like going back to the beginning of a ‘Painting by Numbers’ book; the drawings are all there, you just need to pop in the colours.  I used to love those books and canvases when I was a girl.

Well, enough of that.  Farty Barty is enjoying a bit of sunshine in his favourite terracotta pot and it’s time to check my emails.

Have a great week and do drop me a line.

Amore June x

PS Don’t forget to visit my author site at http://www.amazon,com/junefinnigan/author

 

 

 

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Benvenuti to all my Lovely New and Loyal followers

Well, I do not usually say negative things about our adoptive country, however, bear with me just this once.  Do not, I said do not, open a bank account here!  I opened an account to send a monthly payment to our landlord in Florence.  For the last two and a half years, no problems.  Then all the staff with any authority at the bank, went on holiday at the same time, and I found I could make a deposit on the due date, but not make a transfer.  So just three days later, I return to the bank so authorise the transfer and the account was twenty euros short!  Nobody could explain why, so I said in Italian of course, “Has the government grabbed it or has the bank just stolen it?”    Everyone there was hugely apologetic, however, I got nowhere.  So have arranged a nine-thirty appointment with my personal banker who is back on Monday.  The only saving grace is that my Italian landlord was not in the least bit surprised…..

Lovely shady gardens at Pignano Photo J Finnigan

Lovely shady gardens at Pignano
Photo J Finnigan

Brighter things.  Last Sunday we had a fun half-birthday with our daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren.  It was a half-birthday for our grandson’s fourteenth, because he is off to start his new school in England and will be away on the actual day.  We will celebrate the other half-birthday at half-term!  So, the guys went to play a round of golf and we girlies took the granddaughter for a horse riding lesson.  Whilst we waited for the our lovely nine and a half-year old, we repaired to the gardens of the very beautiful Villa Pignano somewhere between Siena and Volterra, and coffee in the courtyard.  Then we returned to our daughter’s house for lunch.  The afternoon was great fun as we played cricket in the garden and would you believe it, I bowled and got a wicket!

Green August countryside through our guest bedroom window. Photo J Finnigan

Green August countryside through our guest bedroom window.
Photo J Finnigan

Meanwhile, back at our villa, it is was Friday and aperitivo time, and I relaxed with a deep sigh after a hard, but satisfying week at the key-board.  “Can you see anything different?” my man asked in his usual casual manner.  “Mmm, the view seems to have opened up a bit I think”  “Yep, you’re right; I was trying to get to the last of the plums, but the ladder wasn’t long enough, so I chopped the tree down…. “What!”  I sprung to my feet, well sort of,  and rushed to the railing above the orchard.  There in the middle was the sad-looking tree, not exactly chopped down, but severely pruned.  (do you get it?)  “Isn’t it a bit early to prune a tree?” I asked.  “Depends whether you wanted the plums and I wanted another crumble…” He said authoritatively.  I sighed, I had to make the crumble.  Looking across the valleys we realise just how incredibly green everything is for August.  We gazed down over the valley below.  This time of year the countryside should be burnt to a crisp and only the vines, olive trees and evergreens retaining their colour.  Very strange weather indeed.  “It’s a beautiful day for October,” my man groans.

The Plum Crumble Photo J Finnigan

The Plum Crumble
Photo J Finnigan

Previously, back at C’era Una Volta for a weekday lunch, an Englishman rushed in asking for directions to a villa, where they are having a big wedding.  “It’s big with a tower, you must know it!”  We refrained from saying, ‘there are hundreds in this area’ and looked at his computer generated paper instructions.  I am about to draw any easier map and my man grabs the details.  He looks at them and announces, “I’m pretty certain that’s Paola’s brother’s place, you know, on the main road, it has a tower.”  The tourist turns to my man, obviously he thought him more likely to be helpful.   So, he is given verbal directions, which were awful and sent on his way.  “Those directions were terrible,” I said, “And are you sure it was the right villa?”  “No, but it might be the right place.” my man grins, “Anyway, when giving directions you just need to sound confident, because they will have their doubts anyway….”  I reached for the bottle of Chianti and topped up my glass.

Meanwhile, out there in the land of the rich, Silvio Berlusconi doesn’t seem to be newsworthy!  I’ve checked his fan club, yes he has one, googled the various news channels; nothing!  Mind you, everyone is still on holiday here and that probably also applies to our Peter Pan of Politics.  Perhaps no news is good news, who for, who knows?

Well, so much for that.  I’ve had a really good week with ‘The Bolivian Connection’ and have written two more chapters.  There are some dodgy repercussions about to erupt after the reading of my heroine’s father’s will….ooer!  Watch this space.

Anyway, over to you.  Do drop me a line or visit my author page at http://www.amazon.com/junefinnigan/author.com

Have a good week.

Salute June x

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Benvenuto to all my Loyal and New Followers

Never, ever decide to take a day off and do something that you just should avoid!  Last Saturday I decided to have a really relaxing day without work or writing.  What did I do?  I decided to cook……nothing difficult, all things I have done before with my eyes closed, then disaster struck!  The first thing to go wrong was tipping the steamed cauliflower into a baking dish which was far too small, the florets bounced over the work surface and two landed on the floor!  “Dammit” I cursed and stepped back onto the third one that had cunningly escaped my attention!  I skidded across the floor towards the Tardis (my big new fridge) and grabbed the handle.  The door slowly swung open with me hanging on for dear life and praying that the thing would hold my weight!  Meanwhile, by feet are scrabbling around trying to get a foot hold.  Somehow, I remained upright and the Tardis held firm.  Then I had to clean up the mess and hit my head on the hot oven door, which I had previously opened, and the potatoes on the baking tray inside, rolled slowly forward onto the inside of the horizontal door!  By now I am F…ing and blinding and I was sure my man would come down from his study any minute!  Meanwhile the plums from the garden that my man had lovingly collected, because he was looking forward to a nice creamy desert, got forgotten whilst I recovered on the kitchen chair with a large glass of Pinot Grigio.  A little later I told my man all about it and he shrugged, “Your taking a day off to relax and then cook, was a contradiction in terms, you should have known better….”  So no sympathy there then.

Paolo at C'era una Volta restuarant with fresh Zucchini flowers

Paolo at C’era una Volta restaurant with fresh Zucchini flowers

Our first Passion Fruit

Our first Passion Fruit photo P Finnigan

So, may I ask you a huge favour.  Please, please invite me to yours for some lovingly prepared home cooking, I can’t remember what it tastes like.  On the other hand you may not want to cater for someone who does not eat meat, fish, eggs or gluten…..I know its difficult.  The other thing is, I do like loud rock music and after a couple of glasses of vino will probably start head banging.  I also do bad impressions of Devonshire farmers and recite the same limerick wherever I go.   If you think you can cater for all these factors, you are my gift from heaven, however, I do understand if you would rather give it a miss.  I’ll just keep frequenting our wonderful local restaurants, like C’era Una Volta.  Oooh, nearly forgot, we have three passion fruits in the garden and the grapes have turned a gorgeous shade of purple!  So at least we can pick and eat fruit from the garden…..

Regarding the latter, we went to Montalbino for lunch today, with our lovely daughter and the family, as she has recently enjoyed her birthday.  There is only one little restaurant in Montalbino, which is a tiny hamlet between Montespertoli and Certaldo, here in Tuscany of course.  You may want to check it out as they specialise in Fungi, particularly truffles(tartufo) and porcini.  Our thirteen year old grandson has come home with us for a couple of nights, which is great, and I can hear him and granddad guffawing in the sitting room as they watch a hilarious ‘Black Books’ DVD.

Meanwhile, my man and I take our regular trip into Fiano for coffee in the mornings, and after really bad rain for days on end, the track is pretty bad and we thank ourselves for the foresight in choosing a high four-wheel drive car.  “What a good thing I didn’t buy that low Maserati or Lamborghini,” my man commented in a dead-pan voice.  At Laura’s bar/alimentare on a Saturday morning the Italian men like to get into track suits, or worse, flannelette T-shirt and matching shorts.  Floppy flannelette shorts are seriously unflattering, but then we have to remember that we live amongst country folk; this is not Milan.

Flannelette shorts photo J Finnigan

Flannelette shorts
photo J Finnigan

Well, enough of that.  What has our handsome hero Silvio Berlusconi been up to?  O dio, the latest sensation is that SB probably paid ‘Ruby the Heartstealer’  between five and seven million euros during the Bunga Bunga period.  He still maintains that he only paid her fifty-seven thousand euros to ensure that she did not fall into a world of prostitution.  That poor girl, life can be full of disappointments, she probably expected a lot more…..

Well, I must go and join the men downstairs.  As of tomorrow it is head down as I have a deadline of 31 August for finishing my latest novel, ‘The Bolivian Connection’.  I have left my heroine Joanna Wilde, at a soiree and at least 80% of the guests are cold-blooded assassins!  Time to rescue her….

Have a good week.

Salute June x

PS Have you read ‘My Father, The Assassin’?  If yes I would really appreciate it if you were to pop back to Amazon and leave a review.  Grazie Mille. x

 

 

 

 

 

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Benvenuto to all my Lovely Followers,

Yes, its pretty warm at night now and we are at last throwing off the sheets and sleeping with the windows wide open.  Mosquito nets are essential, of course, that also help to keep out the giant hornets and lizards.  These are both fascinating creatures, but not when one is trying to sleep!

Simon Baker, aged 44, Ausralian Actor.

Simon Baker, aged 44, Australian Actor.

My poor man is struggling with a painful tendon in his heel.  Last week he popped into Guys Hospital in London to check it out and there wasn’t a lot they could do for him.  So some rest, some exercise and an ice pack.  Over coffee this morning at Laura’s Bar/Alimentare in Fiano, he was reading the La Nazione newspaper and commented “It says here that the Tartufo (truffles) from San Miniato (the original ancient capital of Tuscany) is said to be an aphrodisiac.”  Oh good, I thought to myself, if he’s thinking about sex, the pain in his foot my not be as bad as I thought.  Meanwhile, I am musing about who might play the male lead Dominic, in the film version of my book ‘My Father, The Assassin.”  It may prove difficult to get Daniel Craig (sighs) however, I do quite like the idea of Simon Baker, assuming he could beef his muscles up a bit.  What do you think?  My man interrupts my thoughts again, “See that huge fat guy who’s just gone out for a cigarette, he’ll have a problem with his weight if he gave up the smoking…ha, ha….”  I put on a serious face and looked away.  At the next table we are amused by Sig Rotund holding court with three local ladies, “He’s the Mayor of where he lives,” my man chortled.  Then in strut our too lovely lady carers from Georgia, arm in arm, in their brightly clashing market clothes and happy smiles on their faces.  Here in Tuscany, we have a lot of live in carers for the elderly, and often from the former Eastern Block.

“Are you going to mention in your blog, that I had lunch with the Countess of Wessex in London last week?”  He changes the subject.  ‘Well, of course,” I say, “along with thirty odd other ex-servicemen who were carefully selected from the Union Jack Club membership?”  “Err, well yes, I guess so,”  he smiles sweetly and I just love it when he does.  Yes, my man did enjoy a lunch with Sophie, who turned out to be very nice and sat at my man’s table for the main course, then moved on to have her dessert at another one.

Pashion Flower Photo P Finnigan

Passion Flower
Photo P Finnigan

Earlier in the week, I was driving through the tranquil Chianti countryside, which, as many of you will know is a crop farming area; mostly grapes and olives.  We regularly see dog walkers, but for the first time I came across a man walking a young cinghiale (wild pig), not on a lead, just happily trotting along inside a fenced vineyard with his man!  Things having now calmed down after the concert, I am also noticing the birds and wildlife again.  I suppose I never stop doing this, however, the last few days I have been acutely aware of the increase in the colourful bee-eaters, swifts and swallows.  In the garden we are enjoying a second round of wisteria blossom and new passion flowers – lovely.   On the lower terrace we have a little grapevine which is producing a lot more grapes this year, we are not sure why, perhaps it’s the incredible amount of rain we have had over the last month of so.

Grapes on the Lower Terrace Photo P Finnigan

Grapes on the Lower Terrace
Photo P Finnigan

It is now Monday morning and this blog should have gone off to you yesterday.  A raging storm is pounding the villa and the electricity keeps coming and going.  I made a list yesterday of things to do at my desk.  I may have to switch the computer off shortly, if the storm doesn’t get any better.  So, that means skipping a lot of that list until later.  But we don’t care about that.  Life eez good, life eez now and as my man likes to say, it’s the best option.

Did you hear that something has at last gone right for the gorgeous Silvio Berlusconi?  He has won his court appeal against his conviction for under age sex that would have put him in prison for years!  One has to remember that the young lady in question was seventeen at the time, which is under age here in Italy.  So, no doubt SB and friends will be celebrating with more bunga bunga parties, however, girlies make sure you can prove your age before you go through the door, he won’t take this sort of thing lying down again……

Well, enough of that and its time to get back to my work list.

Have a great week and see you at the weekend.

Molto Amore

June x

PS Visit my author page at http://www.amazon.com/author/junefinnigan and do drop me a line….

 

 

 

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Ciao to all my Loyal and New Followers

A Gift from The Frenchmen Phot J Finnigan

A Gift from The Frenchmen
Photo J Finnigan

I can’t think why it happens, but every time my man goes to London, my doorbell rings and there are two men standing outside the gate wanting to talk to me.  I am very security conscious, that is why I hang out of the first floor bathroom window to check who’s calling.  Now, these two were not up to the standards of the Armani Men that visited a few weeks ago.  T-shirts and shorts with a desperate look on their faces.  Mmmm, I thought, who are these suspicious looking characters.  Then the slightly taller one spoke in French.  I am a terrible sucker for the French accent (look up Laurent Dupont in my novel ‘My Father, The Assassin’) and immediately my guard dropped.  But wait, careful girl, I told myself, ask if they speak English.  So I did, and one did but badly, however, hearing that Frenchman trying to speak English set my knees wobbling.  “We are staying next door in the condominium and we have overslept.  Now we will not get to Pisa airport on time!  There is no phone signal and we need to ring Ryanair.  Can we use your phone?”  So, I open the front door and decide to deal with the Frenchies through my locked security gate.  “Er, we have these boarding passes but there is no phone number, could you ring the airport?”  So, as one does, I go up to my desk  and look up the number for both Pisa airport and Ryanair, then go back down with my Samsung phone so they can make a call.  Aarrrgh, heavy raindrops start hitting us, so I reach inside the front door for the golf brolly and cover the three of us each side of the gate.  “Sacra blue” the taller one hands me the phone and a message is asking whether we want Italian or English, I plump for English.  Then a recorded message is asking all sorts of daft questions, so I realise if I am to help the Frenchies I must make a tactical decision.  Either I take them up to my computer which I have recently moved into the bedroom for the lovely view,  or I try to transfer their flights myself and it is all in French, or I ask if they have a computer with them.  If the latter I would need to give them my password for my internet connection!  They rush next door and come back in the pouring rain with a hand-held computer and I decide that giving them my password is the lesser of three evils.  The shorter one immediately gets a link and they jump for joy!  They say that they have wives and children next door who will be so happy.  I say yes, I have a printer so they can email me their new boarding passes.  So off they go, and I am left with a prong of the brolly wedged into the side of the gate in pouring rain.  Dammit, I curse, bloody Frenchies!  So I leap the gap from the brolly to the door and press the release for the security gate and the brolly is free, but my feet are soaking wet…..  Fifteen minutes later I am handing them the printed boarding passes, so all was well.  The following morning I open the front door and there hanging from the gate is a bag containing a bottle of wine, and a very good one too!  They do say you should never trust a Frenchman bearing gifts, however…………….

June's fitness regime.

June’s fitness regime.

As most of you will already know, it is the run up to my next Garden Party Rock Concert and I’m really delighted to know that I will be meeting some of you for the first time that evening.  Last week I got together with Stefano my lead guitarist and Paola my backing singer, to sort out the keys for the five new songs in the repertoire.  My man will be attaching a new stage light to one of our trees, so the lighting should be far better this time, and we are turning the frame of the winter pollytunnel into a rug-covered bedouin type tent full of cushions and teddy bears for the small children to have fun in.  Our concert parties are very Italian and all ages are welcome.  If you are in Tuscany on the 28th June and would like an invite email me at june.finnigan@virgin.net.  Meanwhile, I am having to get myself fit in both body and voice.  As regards the former, I thought you might like a copy of my fitness regime.

Meanwhile, back at Laura’s cafe bar/alimentare, my man and I are enjoying our morning coffee.  “It says here, that a 102 year old has recently been operated on by a seventy-five year old surgeon!”  My man shows me the picture in the Il Terrano newspaper.  “Gosh, did the old boy survive it?” I ask.  “Yes, they both did….” he replies.   I laugh; my man does come out with some corkers sometimes.  I say that I am really looking forward to his sister coming to stay and that we get on so well, “That’s because you share the same nemesis” he grins and returns to his paper.  Then a great gust of wind hits us from the open door as a big muscley blond guy walks in wearing a sleeveless T-shirt.  “Gosh, did you see that” my man whispers, “His knuckles weren’t exactly scraping the floor, but nigh on….”  I clench my lips and try to look normal.  Then our local Pizza Restuarant owner walks in with a Japanese student who is here to study the art of making the perfect Italian pizza.  He did not have a word of Italian or English, however, we understood that he is going to be opening a pizzeria in Japan.  The mind boggles….!

berlusconi

Silvio being interviewed by Jeremy Paxman Photo Washington Post

So what of our Adonis Silvio Berlusconi.  The world press seem to be losing interest, but not the Italians.  Consensus has it that if SB was legally allowed to be in government, he would have been re-elected by now.  Did you see the interview he had with Jeremy Paxman?  It seems that JP is retiring and he wanted to go out with a really good interview, so he chose Silvio!

JB – Do you have a particular problem with Angela Merkel and is it true you called her an un………lard-ass?

SB – No, I have never had any problems with Angela Merkel.  In twenty years of politics I have never insulted anyone!

Then later in the interview on Beppe Grillo….SB said “His behaviour reminds me of some of the most bloody and dangerous characters in history.  He has things in common with Robespierre, Stalin and Pol Pot!”

So, I get it, Silvio never insults anyone, he just states what he believes to be the truth.  Interesting……..

Well, enough of that and its time to organise aperitivi in our very hot and sunny upper terrace with my man.

Thanks again for reading and do drop me a line.  Also don’t forget to visit my author site at http://www.amazon.com/author/junefinnigan

Amore June x

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Benvenuto to all my New and Loyal Followers

Tomak on his beautiful Royal Enfield Bullet. Photo J Finnigan

Tomak on his beautiful Royal Enfield Bullet.
Photo J Finnigan

We are just driving into our local village of Fiano and our journey is slowed by the put-putting of a chap in front on an ancient motorbike.  “Gosh that bike looks old, but it sounds lovely, don’t you think?” I ask.  My man is still trying to slow down to the pace of life back home after a few hectic working days in London.  But suddenly he is showing enthusiasm, rather than impatience, as we follow the bike and it’s rider into the piazza and park.  We get out of the car and realise that the rider is our Polish friend Tomak, who is riding his treasured 1960’s Royal Enfield Bullet, which he had waxed lyrical about the last time we had seen him.  So, here it was, the bike had come down to Tuscany from Poland and over many years via India and England.  We greeted our friend and gazed lovingly at the wonderful motor, the leather seats on big springs and the big wheels.  Tomak was off to a nearby town called San Casciano for a rally of sorts, and was stopping for coffee.  Unfortunately, the electrics needed some work and when he tried to leave a little later, it would not start.  Half an hour later, we said our farewells, and left him to it, smiling all over his face and him saying “This is all part of the fun of owning a bike like this!”  Mind you, we have never seen Tomak without his enthusiastic grin.

A few days ago, at five thirty in the morning, I was awoken by a horrendous cat fight below the bedroom window.  Thinking it might be Farty Barty I rushed to the window and spotted big black Tom squared up to Barty, who had scrunched himself between a potted plant and the wall of the house.  Big Tom is a wild devil of a male cat in this area, and all the other cats run a mile when he turns up.  So I grabbed a hard backed diary, and using a discus action, I hurtled it at the nasty little devil.  Amazingly, I winged him and he rushed away, stopping to look back at me with an evil eye, before disappearing off to find another victim.  I rushed down and let Barty into the kitchen and he had tufts of loose fur sticking out all over him.  But what did he do, he went straight to his food bowl and started on an early morning breakfast!

Zero growth figures for Italy. Il Terreno.

Zero growth figures for Italy.
Il Terreno.

As in every other European country, Italy is gearing up for the European Election.  The village has a big row of posters and two of the candidates have a big black crosses over their faces.  I find this very odd; to we English it gives the impression that it has been crossed out.  But no, it is the Italians idea that if it has a cross over it, that’s the one you will most likely vote for!  Whoever gets in, will be representing the poor man of Europe, based on the latest growth figures, or rather the serious lack of growth, in fact a fall below zero……

Rose in our garden. Photo P Finnigan

Rose in our garden.
Photo P Finnigan

Meanwhile, back in Laura’s cafe bar/alimentari, Sig Rotund arrived with one lens missing from his glasses, which our Moroccan street seller was very pleased about.  Despite the fact that he had sold the cheap original pair to Sig Rotund in the first place, it meant the sale of another pair.  This is the only time you will see our street seller smile, otherwise he has a seriously hung-dog expression.   We are seeing a lot of tourists now in the bar and it takes all my restraint not to pipe up and say, “Do you need any help?”as they struggle with their lack of Italian.  “Don’t interfere,” my man whispers, “It’s all part of the holiday experience  for them, and its funny to watch.  Particularly when they go away with all the wrong purchases!” We go home to the villa and reflect, and sit on the upper terrace surrounded by the most beautiful roses.  Can anyone name this one?

My man then changed the subject and said, on his last visit to London, he had met a very influential PR lady in the film industry.  He gave her my author card for ‘My Father, The Assassin’ as she would like to sell the film rights.  Personally, I think the character of Dominic Francis would be perfect for Daniel Craig.  Watch this space……  Visit my author page at http://www.amazon.com/author/junefinnigan

Silvio greets his fans in Roma. photo Angelo Carconi/EPA

Back in the glamorous world of Silvio Berlusconi, SB was being interviewed by Italian Radio 24, where he likened himself to Pope Francis.  The interviewer Giovanni Minoli asked if SB liked the Pope -“Yes, I really like him, he acts as Pope in exactly the way I would act (as Pope)….” He remarked cheerfully.   “Does that mean that Francis is a good Pope because he is like you?” GM asked.  SB was quick to reply, “No, no; I am good because I resemble the Pope!”

Then on the subject of the candidates for the European party to represent Italy SB said, “I think Beppo Grillo is a danger to Italy as he is an aspiring dictator…..”  Oh dio, so SB considers himself to be Pope like creature who hates dictators.  I can just see him practicing walking across his swimming pool, balancing a wobbly halo on his head.  Keep up the entertainment value Silvio, we would hate to lose you to the real world.

Well, over to you.  I would love to receive your views and comments.  And , if you have read ‘My Father, The Assassin’  I would really appreciate a review on either or both Amazon and Goodreads.

It is my mother’s 90th birthday on Saturday so I will not be sending you a blog next weekend.  I’ll be off to Devon then Cornwall, for a visit.

Have a great week and see you in two weeks time.

Amore June x

 

 

 

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Benvenuto to all my New and Loyal Followers

Over coffee in Fiano this morning my man let out a groan.  “Well, that just about sums up the Eurovision Song Contest!”  He thrusts La Nazione newspaper at me and there on the front page is the winner, a stunning drag queen in glittery dress, long dark wig and a full black beard…….mmmmm.  This is the sort of thing that makes front page news in Italy!

june at microphone

The Rock Chick Band Archive Photo

Yes, it’s that time of year again; the run up to my next Rock Concert.  This means lots of singing practice to get my croaking voice back into shape.  As a courtesy to my neighbours, I shut the windows and outer doors as the voice exercises I need to do, could have them ringing the police or ambulance if they were to hear me!  Meanwhile, my man goes out into the garden with Farty Barty the cat, or he shuts himself in his studio with his radio up full blast.  Now, I do not want you to think that my voice is not up to the challenge again.  Each year, it gets a little deeper which is apparently normal for aging Rock singers (e.g. Blondie), so I have to check with my lead guitarist that we are still using the correct keys.  We have added five new songs to the repertoire this year:  Paint it Black – Rolling Stones, Broken Crown – Mumford and Sons, If I needed Someone – Eric Clapton/George Harrison, Parisienne Walkways – Gary Moore/Phil Lynott and Woodstock – Mathews Southern Comfort.  My choice of songs are simply ones I love, I can manage to sing them and there are great instrumentals for an acoustic band and in particular, Stefano’s fabulous guitar playing.  If you would like a personal invite for the concert on 28th June in Tuscany, email june.finnigan@virgin.net

Earlier this week, my man and I went off to a posh clinic in Empoli, so that he could check out that all his vital organs were working OK.  I sat in a very nice waiting area, playing scrabble on my Kindle – as one does, and got chatting to a family who had taken a picture of a burning bus on the FPLI (the fast dual carriageway between Florence and Pisa).  Italians can be a bit on the gruesome side; just visit some of the religious art exhibitions or Greve in Chianti’s piazza for a nasty statue of a bleeding torso, to see what I’m talking about.  My man returned with an envelope containing pictures of his insides for taking to our local doctore, the rock music loving Flavio.  “Did you understand everything the specialist said?”  “I think so,” he smirked, “I may have a little stone on the kidney, which is nothing to worry about, or she gave me ten minutes to live…”  “Bastard” I hissed.

Back at Laura’s bar/alimentare in Fiano, there is a big stock of charcoal for the outside grills in all the local gardens.  This is also the time of year for the weekenders to arrive and to start firing up their barbies.  Our immediate weekend neighbours come up from Certaldo and cram themselves under a tiny car port to play ping-pong.  If I ever mention the Ping-Pong family, you will know who I mean.  Also new in the village, is a clever electronic hawk screeching machine which is designed to stop the birds nesting in the roof of the latest modern apartment building.  Amazingly, despite its volume, the locals continue their conversations as if it’s not happening! Oh yes, and our Moroccan street seller has brand new stock.  Everything appears to be in the original wrappers and not a clothes peg mark on anything!

Male  Redstart Photo National Geographic

Male Redstart
Photo National Geographic

Yesterday, Sunday, we met with lovely friends for a cocktail in the piazza at Montespertoli.  She is a glamorous eighty-nine and looks twenty years younger and her toyboy husband (a world-renowned photographer) at only eighty-three, still looks as if he could return to the game of Calcio Storica (historical rugby) in Florence, without a problem.  She was telling me that as an English women in her twenties, she arrived in Milan to dance with a ballet troupe and never looked back.  A fascinating and relaxing get together indeed.  We returned to our garden to be greeted by our new resident Redstart which has been acting very friendly and curious, just like a Robin.

Silvio Berlusconi

Silvio looks enthusiastic as he arrives for his first day of Social Work. Photo Oliver Morin/AFP/Getty Images

Meanwhile, the undaunted Silvio Berlusconi has started his four hours a week community service at a home for Alzheimer’s patients near Milan.  He has apparently spent ten days learning about the disease and may even help with one to one feeding of patients.  This will be a challenge, according to the head of a hospice, as the patients often have to be reminded that they are eating.  SB said, “I think in the end I will stay longer than I have to – I have a big surprise ready!”  Mmmm, does he mean that he may forget to leave?  He may be trying to forget that his political party Forza Italia is only third in the running for the European elections; poor Silvio.

Well, I must forge on.  I have a column to write and a working week in the business to attend to.

Have a great week and do get in touch.

Amore June x

PS Son’t forget to visit my author site at http://www.amazon.com/author/junefinnigan or to read the first four chapters of ‘My Father, The Assassin’ go to http://www.firstchapters.net

 

 

 

 

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Benvenuto to all my Loyal and New Followers

Male and female Bee Eaters Photo National Geographic

Male and female European Bee Eaters
Photo National Geographic

“My nose must be the fittest part of me, because it keeps on running!”  My man is trying to keep his sense of humour as he grabs another tissue.  The beautiful Acacia trees are dripping with blossom at the moment,  but  this does not help those with a tendency to pollen allergies or those with bunged up noses like my man.  There must be thousands of these trees growing wild in our area, and what with the heavily blossomed lilac and horse-chestnut trees, its like walking or driving through heavily scented temples.  However, pollen problems are forgotten as we watch a flock of gorgeous  Bee Eaters winging their way across the valley towards us.

Milko outside his Cartolibireria showing my books for sale! Photo J Finnigan

Milko outside his Cartolibreria showing my books for sale!
Photo J Finnigan

The other day, my man opened a new packet of Marigold gloves, to do the washing up.  Yes, we have a dish-washer, but it conked out after I put the wrong salt in.  The gloves were pink, which he does not mind as his view on life is that real men can wear any colour.  What he was not happy about was that the packet had two right hand gloves.  “Jesus Christ” he cursed, “We’ll have to go back to Milko’s and change them.”  My hands are not so sensitive; I never wear rubber gloves, so I offered to do the washing up.  Now you may remember that Milko runs the cartolibreria in our local village of Fiano and he has a lot more than just books and postcards.  Outside the door are rows of washing liquids, floor cleaners, mops, brushes and rucksacks.  “When we returned the gloves the next day, my man asked him if he had any boxes of left hand gloves, which really confused the poor sensitive man.  But then he laughed when he was shown the two right gloves and put an order in for some more.  It is rare to get what you want locally on the same day.  This particularly applies to the farmacia (chemist) where they only order one item of everything, everyday.  But you can be certain that the following day your order will be there.

My man went to visit his mother in Somerset last Thursday, so did not fly back until Sunday morning.  However, it was perfect weather and timing to enjoy an aperitivo in the Piazza and then on to lunch at C’era Una Volta in Lucardo.  This ristorante is very good for families as the kids love the fritters and pastas.  Our grandchildren can attest to that.  However, we have been invited to go to a newly opened vegetarian restaurant near San Casciano called Villa del Roseta tomorrow night, which will be interesting as we are always on the look out for new places to go.  I’ll let you know.

Last Sunday week, we see Montespertoli’s local octogenarian ‘Mafia Man’ leaning on his walking stick, his beige overcoat hiding probable armoury and staring down at the minions that were either bowing to him or picking up coins that he may have thrown casually to the ground.  He pulls his wide brimmed black hat down over his dark sunglassed eyes, and looks thoroughly bored.  Gone are his younger days when the women would rush to his side, just to be seen with him, now its just the local peasants that hang onto his coat tails.  He would make a brilliant extra in an Italian film.  The sun is hiding behind threatening clouds and we decide to head off to lunch.

Silvio in disguise Photo Reuters

Silvio prepares to go undercover
Photo Reuters

Meanwhile, the dashing Silvio Berlusconi, who has never met a mafia man in his life, forges on.  He has been scrubbing his fingernails as he is about to start his community work at an old people’s nursing home.  This was his choice of venue, after being sentenced for fraud.  Right now, all the female inmates and some of the men, will be having their blue rinses touched up and face packs slapped on.  We wish them well, and its a chance for Silvio to see how the rest of his generation lives……

Well, must forge on with ‘The Bolivian Connection’ and then back to the office tomorrow.

I  hope you all had a great bank holiday weekend.

Amore June xx

PS  Don’t forget to check out my Amazon author page at http://www.amazon.com/author/junefinnigan

 

 

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