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Benvenuti to all my lovely Loyal and New Followers

A sneaky photo of the lake in the Palace gardens.   Photo P Finnigan

A sneaky photo of the lake in the Palace gardens.
Photo P Finnigan

"What!  Move so that you can lay the table!  No chance."  Farty Barty. Photo P Finnigan

“What! Move so that you can lay the table! No chance.” Farty Barty.
Photo P Finnigan

“A snog a day, helps you blog away!”  My man is looking over my shoulder and nuzzling, whilst reading this blog.  “Hey, so now you are a poet!” I laugh.  “I have my moments,” he grins.  He is quite full of himself at the moment, having gone to Buckingham Palace for a garden party during the week, with ‘The Not Forgotten Association’ and in the presence of HRH The Princess Royal.  The society assists disabled and injured ex-service people and provides lots of entertainment venues.  Fortunately my man came out of his years as a Royal Marine Commando unscathed.   He thoroughly enjoyed himself and the afternoon tea in a grand marquee with traditional strawberries and cream.  Meanwhile I was stuck back here in the beautiful Chianti Hills, having to gaze at the fabulous view with a glass or three of Chianti, with grumpy Farty Barty for company.

Stefano on Lead Guitar Photo Chiara Benelli

Stefano on Lead Guitar – Italy’s George Harrison
Photo Chiara Benelli

We are just six days away from the Rock Chick Band’s fifth annual concert and last Monday we did a lengthy rehearsal sorting out the keys for the five new songs in the repertoire.  We decided to drop that great glam rock song ‘Poison’ by Alice Cooper as we just could not find the right key for my voice.  Instead, we have added back in another favourite of mine ‘You took the words right out of my mouth’ by Meat Loaf, so my man will be back on stage doing the intro with me.  You remember “Will you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?”……….. yes, that talking bit. Great stuff.

By the weekend we will have a villa full of house guests and the first one arrives on Tuesday in the shape of my beautiful sister-in-law, whom I could not manage without this time of year.  She’ll be making sure the pots in the garden are all refreshed and that it is looking as gorgeous as last year.  Then Friday and Saturday morning three more friends will arrive, one of which I haven’t seen for fifty years.  It will be an amazing reunion.

The lovely Benedetta with baby Alessandro in her tummy. Photo J Finnigan

The lovely Benedetta with baby Alessandro in her tummy.
Photo J Finnigan

On Thursday morning I joined Benedetta at Laura’s bar in Fiano to drink my coffee, as she was sat doing some paperwork at one of the tables.  The bar was full of noisy Italian tourists wearing crazy t-shirts.  An argument was going on over calcio (football).  The locals all support Fiorentino (Florence) whilst two rogue members of the group favoured Juventus!  Then a handsome young male apparition cruised in, wearing an orange blazer, white mules without socks and cream chinos.  He was a stranger, so the local contadini (country folk) stopped talking and stared for precisely one minute then carried on arguing.  I stared too, but for rather more than a minute!  Meanwhile, the old boy who was reading the only non-sporty paper, was being pressurised to hand it over by a younger man who stood right behind him breathing down the poor man’s neck.  The old boy gave in, just like the slow driver moves to the side of the road to let the fast driver overtake to get him off his back bumper!  So Italian.

Come the weekend, back at the villa, we were dealing with heavy rain and thunderstorms that inevitably caused short electricity cuts.  When this happens, the pump that brings the gas into the villa, cuts out and we have to go and rev it up again out in the garden.  We know this has happened when one of us is naked and trying to run the hot water in the shower and the other is not dressed yet.  So the latter goes out to the garden, opens a little metal door in the wall and pumps away at a brass knob.  Meanwhile the naked one has climbed into the boiler room to check that the gas is flowing in again.  Then its a shouting session, “Is it OK now?” “No keep pumping, hang on yes its OK.”  “Sorry I can’t hear you!”  Naked person goes to the window, “I said its OK now”  Pumping person scurries back in having been caught in a shower of rain!

Now in light of the coming events, I hope you will forgive me if I do not send you a blog next weekend.  The following weekend, of course, will be very newsy indeed and I hope to post some great photos of the band.  I shall be all dressed in black this year, a little more rock chick than last time.  Look out for your invite reminder if you are on my guest list.  If you are not, will be in Tuscany and would like one, drop me an email at june.finnigan@virgin.net.

have a great fortnight and don’t forget to check out my books at http://www.amazon.com/author/junefinnigan  I’ll update you on the gorgeous Silvio Berlusconi next time.

Salute June x

My Father, The Assassin.  Book one in the series.

My Father, The Assassin. Book one in the series.

'The Bolivian Connection'  Book two in the series.

‘The Bolivian Connection’ Book two in the series.

 

 

 

 

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