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Posts Tagged ‘J W Finnigan’

Frenchmen Bearing Gifts, a Japanese Pizza Maker and Hot Sun in Beautiful Tuscany

Posted in Life, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 8, 2014| 2 Comments »

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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A 90th Birthday, Real Ales and a return to Beautiful Tuscany and the Wine Fair

Posted in Life, tagged , , , , , , , on June 3, 2014| 2 Comments »

Welcome to all my lovely new and loyal followers

Panic over, my new computer suddenly spat into life after I held my finger firmly on the start button for ten seconds!  So here I am, breathing a huge sigh of relief and writing to you.

Me and my mumon her 90th birthday Photo Jane Stobbs

Me and my mum on her 90th birthday
Photo Jane Stobbs

Now, I know you only want to hear about our comings and goings in Tuscany, however, if you can just give me a few minutes of your attention, I will fill you in on my visit to England to celebrate my mother’s 90th birthday.  The previous night I stayed with my mother-in-law in Somerset who is nearly eighty-nine.  We converged in the kitchen early the next morning and she said, “Oh, its you June, I knew someone was staying but I could not remember who!”  So it was no surprise when later that morning, my sister-in-law and I arrived at my mother’s house and the old dear opened the door and said “Oh, you look just like my daughter June!”  I am your daughter June,” I replied.  “what are you doing here?” she asked.  “I’m here for your birthday mum, you are 90 today…..”  “Goodness gracious, is that right, well you had better come in then…..”  At tea time, I caught a train from Exeter to Cornwall as I was visiting an old client who is now in her mid-eighties.  I arrived at my hotel and she did not answer her phone.  I then found out that the poor thing was in hospital in Plymouth and I rang her there.  “Oh, hello June, are you in Italy?”  “No, I am at the Port Gavern Hotel just down the road from your house; I came to visit you.”  “Oh, I had a fall you know, I had forgotten you were coming……”  So I kicked my heels around at the Port Gavern for two nights and found that it had been taken over by new owners.  All the locals had left the bar in disgust and taken their dogs with them.  So I perched on a bar stool talking to Terry the lovely barmaid and a couple of visitors from London.  Nobody remembered me there either, despite my having stayed four of five times, and believe me I am not a quiet person.  However, whilst I no longer drink beer I was delighted to see a row of real ales: Tribute, Timothy Taylor, Betty Stogs and my favourite Proper Job.  My man would have been drooling if he had been there, and I really wish he had been.

So, thank god, I returned to beautiful Tuscany where I was delighted to read in the news that, despite the Italians often being accused of racism, a group of black african war orphans had arrived to join their adoptive Italian families!  This was quite simply heartwarming and I felt the tears pricking at the back of my eyes.

Six foot high bottle of wine at The Wine Fair Photo J Finnigan

Six foot high bottle of wine at The Wine Fair photo J Finnigan

Meanwhile preparations for the annual Wine Fair in Montespertoli had been in full swing, so when my man and I arrived for aperitivi before lunch on Sunday, we were greeted by a marching medieval band and loud Italian pop songs belting out of loudspeakers.  all the usual vineyards were represented under their white awnings around the main piazza, along with the rather trashy street sellers selling brightly coloured plastic toys and balloons.  It is rare to meet drunken Italians, but there were quite a few, including certain friends of ours, who had obviously got started on the wine tasting at first light!

Farty Barty and Farty Bartina

Farty Barty and Farty Bartina Photo J Finnigan

Oh yes, I must give you the latest on Farty Barty.  He has brought a girlie cat home to share his food!  Can you believe it, he is six years old and has never done this before.  She is quite confident, skinny and feral.  Probably no more than six months old, so could be his daughter…  We are calling her Farty Bartina.

Well, I will check out the latest on Silvio Berlusconi and report back to you next weekend.  He’s probably meeting a few like my mother in his current occupation.

 

Have a great week.

Do drop me a line.

Amore June x

PS Check out my Amazon author site at http://www.amazon.com/author/junefinnigan

 

 

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A Royal Enfield Bullet, a Cat Fight and European Elections in Beautiful Tuscany

Posted in Life, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 19, 2014| Leave a Comment »

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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Singing Practice, Ten Minutes to Live and a Redstart in Beautiful Tuscany

Posted in Life, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 13, 2014| 2 Comments »

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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Acacia Blossoms, Marigold Gloves and Mafia Man in Beautiful Tuscany.

Posted in Life, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 5, 2014| Leave a Comment »

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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Easter Day, Stylish Outfits and the Invasion Starts in Beautiful Tuscany

Posted in Life, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 27, 2014| Leave a Comment »

Welcome to all my Loyal and New Followers

Fiorentino in strange crouching position. Photo Official Website

Fiorentina in strange crouching position.
Photo Official Website

Easter morning in our local village of Fiano and like every other self-respecting Italian, Laura has closed her bar/alimentari for the Festa.  So we repair to the other bar, Caffe La Piazzetta, in the piazza where it is sunny enough to sit outside and watch the world go by.  The village was very quiet, even subdued, then the man reminded me that the Fiorentina (Florence) football team lost their match the day before.  The football results always affects the mood in the village.

The tourist invasion starts at Easter and the advance guard were five Russian men at a nearby table.  I studied these characters and noted that the leader was a bit of a loudmouth.  The others consisted of a humorist, a silent old boy, an idoliser and a bored one.  The latter went into the bar and came out with some hair of the dog to try to liven things up.  I gazed around the piazza, which is really a car park.  The big horse-chestnut trees were sprouting their first blossoms and what with the wintered in brollies now being up, it was all very relaxing.  Then I saw my man stiffen as four aliens arrived in bright skin-tight dayglow outfits and oval hard hats, floating on bicycles.  Their strangely clad feet made tapping noises as they walked into the bar, to check which planet they had landed on.  They did not stay long, and left sucking on tubes stuck into plastic bottles.  My man shook his head, “Ha, look at that, only pansies have mudguards on the back of their bikes….”

Buratta con Verdura Grilliata

Buratta con verdure Grilliate

Later, over lunch at ‘C’era Una Volta’ in Lucardo, the ristorante is full.  Paolo had saved us our favourite corner spot so that we could people watch again.  “Gosh, look over there, the last time I saw an outfit like that it was worn by  a member of The Who Band in the early 70’s,” my man hooted.  He was right; a beautiful purple trouser suit with flared trousers, black shiny cuban heeled ankle boots and a matching scarf thrown around the neck.  Make-up had been carefully applied and the hair was big and sprayed carefully into place.  The eighty plus year old Nonna was stunning.   “To your left June…” my man was nudging me, “Those two are the Italian version of Absolutely Fabulous!”  I tried not to laugh out loud, as he was spot on again.  Patsy and friend (please remind me of the friend’s name) were posturing two tables down to my left.  Hair and faces were almost identical to the TV stars and the clothes were so seventies.  I was starting to really enjoy myself.  I dug into my wonderful dish of Buratta con verdure Grilliate and sighed with contentment.

Earlier, over cocktails in Montespertoli, we had spotted a thirty something male with a pony tail in silver lame suit and black silk scarf, several smart jacketed ladies in tight jeans, leopard skin stilettos and matching handbags.  And the Crew-Cut Family, all ladies and three generations walking in twos, arms linked with matching black crew-cuts.  The parade from church is always fascinating.

Easter Monday, the family invaded and our granddaughter stayed on for two nights.  The grandson was recovering from a bout of asthma, so went home with Mum and Dad.  He is fine now.  My Man went to London on the Tuesday so my beautiful nine-year old granddaughter and I, had some quality girls time and far too much chocolate!

Silvio gaffes again photo Huffington Post

Silvio gaffes again
photo Huffington Post

Oh dio, Silvio has gaffed again.  SB has provoked outrage, in suggesting that Germany did not acknowledge the existence of World War Two concentration camps!  Some say it was a swipe at his old foe Martin  Schulz, the German president of the European Parliament and the centre-left candidate to lead the EU Commission.  The two previously came head to head in 2003.  SB said that his own centre-right party would pick up around 20 percent support in the up and coming elections in May.  SB claimed that his original comments in 2003 were not meant to be insulting, suggesting that MS might like a part in a film, thinking of ‘Hogan’s Heros’ and the part of the stupid guard, Sergeant Schultz!  He had thought MS would have been flattered…….!  Oh Dio…….

So, its back to the drawing board for SB and the novel for me.  I would love to hear from you, so do drop me a line.  If you would like an invite to my Tuscan Rock Concert on 28 June email june.finnigan@virgin.net

Salute June x

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

 

 

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Armani Men, Easter Preparations and a Crotchity Moment in Beautiful Tuscany

Posted in Life, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 24, 2014| 3 Comments »

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

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 flock of common Italian men, one with olive branch. Photo J Finnigan

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

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 crotchity moment for Silvio Photo Il Terreno

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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The First Cuckoo, Barty to the Vet and a Snippet in Beautiful Tuscany

Posted in Life, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 7, 2014| 3 Comments »

Ciao to all my lovely Loyal and New Followers

The Common Cuckoo

The Common Cuckoo Photo Wikimedia

On the  first day of April, and right on cue, we heard the first Cuckoo of the year.  Then, on the way back from coffee a swallow swooped over us and out across the valley.  So we are now certain that spring has arrived.    Later, I was delighted to see two wood pigeons building a nest in one of the fir trees surrounding the villa.  I just love that sound; doo-do0 doo doo-doo, doo-doo doo doo-doo.  I rushed into the kitchen and found my man, “We are going to have babies!” I announced.  “I bloody well hope not, not at our age…! He groaned.  “No, no, baby wood pigeons silly!”  “Oh, of course, how did I not guess the first time, baby wood pigeons…” he sighed.

The stunning Copper Carnival, one of our new garden plants. Photo j Finnigan

The stunning Copper Carnival, one of our new garden plants.
Photo j Finnigan

Despite the weather warnings from the farmers, we have bought more plants for the garden pots at the market in Certaldo.  Our lovely plant lady popped in some freebies as well, as we are such good customers.  By next weekend we will be very ship-shape and ready to show off the garden in all its potted glory.

Meanwhile, I mentioned to my man that Farty Barty the cat was due for his first jab in April, and he had a swollen front knee.   He is very good at sensing when this is about to happen, will disappear for up to five days, and then come in starving in the evening when the vet is closed.  But this time we managed to fool him and got him off for the jab and some antibiotics on Friday morning!  The

Farty Barty preening after his visit to the vet. Photo J Finnigan

Farty Barty preening after his visit to the vet.
Photo J Finnigan

vet said, oh, but he’s not due for a jab until May.  “You’ve got your Marzo’s and Maggio’s confused again,”  my man groaned on the way home.  “And that swelling is no worse than ones he’s had before and we just got charged 30 euros for the visit!”  Then we went to the farmacia (chemist) for the antibiotics and they cost another 13,50 euros.  Meanwhile, Barty has disappeared without trace.  If you spot a grey tiger cat, who swaggers  like John Wayne, let me know.

Back in our local village of Fiano, Paolo from ‘C’era una Volta restaurant’ waltzed in to the bar (yes he has a funny sort of dancing walk) to buy his bread, looking very bronzatta after ten days lying on a beach somewhere in the Indian Ocean.  We are glad to see him back, as we have taken to having Sunday lunch there of late.  On Wednesday the Sister and Niece returned to England and were disappointed to have found him closed when they were here.

Last week I promised to let you have a snippet from my current novel ‘The Bolivian Connection’, which is in progress.  So, here it is:

Chapter two;  Joanna, our heroine,  is relaxing in her farmhouse garden in Devonshire with a glass of Pinot Grigio and her black Labrador Dippy…..

‘I do not know how long he had been standing there. I sensed him before I saw him. There had been no sound of a car or footsteps on the gravel drive. The air had become very still, just like the lull before a storm. The birds had stopped singing and the gentle breeze had gone. He moved then, reaching inside the gate to untie the string, his face breaking into a crooked smile. Dippy had not moved and neither did I.  My half-brother raised his hand in greeting and started walking slowly across the lawn towards me.  I had no idea who he was.  A youngish man, perhaps in his twenties, smart dark suit, black shirt, and matching tie. Shiny expensive black shoes, black hair greased flat to his head and curling at his neck. His crooked smile revealed a gold tooth and he looked foreign, possibly Spanish.’

Maybe a little tweaking, but hopefully that’s wetted your appetite and it also reminds me that its gone two o’clock and I’ve missed lunch……

So I’m off to have an aperitivo in the little bit of sunshine that is peaking through the heavy clouds.

Have a great week and I’ll update you on the continuing adventures of Silvio B, next time.

Amore June xx

PS Here is the link to my Amazon author page:

https://www.amazon.com/author/junefinnigan

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Wrong End of the Incense Stick, Removing the covers and Glorious Sunshine in Beautiful Tuscany

Posted in Life, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 31, 2014| Leave a Comment »

Benvenuto to all my Loyal and New Followers

We have lived in Italy for nearly ten years and have learnt the language gradually over that time.  However, no matter how confident one can be, never underestimate the misunderstandings that can occur when listening to an Italian speaking rapidly in dialect, while thrusting a piece of paper through the gate.  I heard the bell ring and my man answered the door.  The conversation was floating up to me in bits, but I distinctly heard him say, in Italian of course, “I won’t be here, but my sister will be.”  Standing at the top of the stairs I enquired of my man, “who was that then?”  “Oh, it was a nice man with a leaflet about a church blessing that’s being held at the church on Thursday, when I’m in London.  I told him that my sister, who is Catholic, would be here and that she might like to go.”  Sadly, our local church has been closed ever since we moved here and we had heard that it sometimes opens for one day, once a year, so we guessed this was it.  We are not church goers, however, this was an opportunity to see inside!

canstock7799636

Confused Roman Catholic Priest

On the Wednesday, my man’s sister arrived with our niece for a weeks holiday.  The following morning, at a quarter to the designated hour, the doorbell rang.  My sister-in-law could not work out how to open the door, so I hung out the front bathroom window.  Smiling up at me from outside the gate was a Roman Catholic priest in his flowing robes and purple sash, clutching his trusty bible.  Standing next to him was the elderly chap who had delivered the leaflet.  “I have brought the Father to bless the sister,” he shouted confidently.  “Sorry, did you say bless the sister?” I queried.   “Yes, the sister is Catholic, your husband said we should call!”  So, as you can imagine, I tried to explain that there had been a misunderstanding and that we had thought the church was going to be open for a service.  “No, no,” the Father was smiling,  “we are only in the village to bless the sister…..”  Of course, I apologised for their waste of time, but then the Father said, “What about you?  Perhaps you would like a blessing….” His smile was withering.   “Err, I’m not Catholic, I’m Methodist.”   He shrugged,  “Your religion is similar, I can give you a blessing!”  Finally, they realised that I was a hopeless case and bade me good morning.  However, I did feel bad, and perhaps after all I should have let him in to ‘Bless the Sister”, but it’s too late now…..

Spring flowers with fallen olives Photo J Finnigan

Spring flowers with fallen olives
Photo J Finnigan

Meanwhile, the garden is heaving with spring growth.  Jasmin, wisteria, primroses and pansies.  our lovely plant lady was back at the market in Certaldo, so we were able to get those much-needed plants for the spring pots.   We also removed all the covers from the delicate plants, then were told in the village that the farmers were anticipating a two-week cold snap in April!  But it’s so lovely to have everything uncovered, including the orange trees that are heavy with fruits.  Sadly, our potted Kumquat tree looks ill, so I have pruned it down and have my fingers crossed.  Wintering under the covers was a big fat locust, which flew off in disgust.

The Sister posing on vintage Vespa at Osteria la Gramola Photo J Finnigan

The Sister posing on vintage Vespa at Osteria la Gramola
Photo J Finnigan

Well, it has been a busy week, trying to work, write and entertain all at the same time.  Supper at our daughter’s house, Sunday lunch at a favourite restaurant called La Gramola in Tavernelle, and lunches in our sunny garden.  The ‘sister’ and our niece enjoyed a visit to Siena last Friday and are off to Florence today.  So I have a little quiet time to finish this blog and get it off to you.

Due to the limited time, and it being Monday, I will update you about Silvio next week and, I know, you are still waiting to receive a snippet from my current novel, ‘The Bolivian Connection”.  Next time, I promise……!

Have a great week.

Amore June x

PS Here is the link to my Amazon author page:

https://www.amazon.com/author/junefinnigan

 

 

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Squeaky Tractors, Bonfires and Giant Emperor Moths in Beautiful Tuscany

Posted in Life, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 24, 2014| 2 Comments »

Benvenuto to all my loyal and new followers,

The valley below our villa Photo J Finnigan

The busy valley below our villa
Photo J Finnigan

“Did you call me to attest to your insanity?”  My man is staring up at me from the garden, whilst I am hanging out the studio window with a hoarse throat.  “No goddamnit” I croak, “I wanted you to remind me what it was you said to your London friend, when he asked you what ‘the sounds of Tuscany’ were.”  “Oh, yes, squeaky tractors of course.”  Well, it depends on the time of year, however, at this moment in time my man is right.  Ancient squeaky tractors are currently rattling their way up and down between the vines, rotovating the soil.  this goes on for quite a few weeks, whilst imported workers are trimming and tidying the vines.  Meanwhile,   the pruned branches from the olive trees are being dragged into piles and burnt.  So the air is rather smoky at present.

Last weekend in Fiano, Benedetta had gone off to the coast to celebrate her twenty-third birthday, so her mother Laura was holding the fort at the bar/alimentari alone.  Over coffee there, I told my man about the quotes I had had for translating my novel into Italian and that they were all very expensive.  I explained that I had been asked for the number of ‘characters’, rather than words, and wondered if they included the spaces.  “Ha, I’m surprised they didn’t want to weigh the book, they weigh everything else here!”  he groaned.  You may laugh, but what my man said is very true.  If you order a sandwich, the Italians slice the bread and weigh it, slice the cheese/ham and weigh it, and weigh tomatoes and/or salad before slicing.   So, back to the book, I may have to postpone the translation, until I make a lot more royalty money from the English version.

Yesterday, our beautiful nine-year old granddaughter arrived to stay overnight, whilst her big brother went down to Perugia to play rugby with his team from Siena.  Sadly, the result went heavily against Siena this time.  Our girl introduced her granddad to a new game of cards, which they are currently playing at her school.  There was a lot of shouting, laughter and slapping of hands on the table.  “What’s going on?”  I enquired.  “Oh its this game called Manaccia” my man replied, “It’s a bit like snap with attitude!”  Earlier in the morning, we had dropped down to Certaldo to buy Primula and Pansies, but were disappointed because our usual lady was not in the market with her plant stand.  However, all is not lost as  we managed to get some plants in Montespertoli this morning.

Giant Emperor Moths on Garden Lamp Photo P Finnigan

Giant Emperor Moths on Garden Lamp
Photo P Finnigan

My man called me down to the garden a couple of days ago and  I was amazed to see two, probably newly emerged, Giant Emperor Moths hanging off the bottom of one of our garden lights.  This light stays on all night, so they probably had toasty warm feet.  Fabulous, and my man managed to capture this picture for you all to see!  I must say that all the signs are here now for the end of any

The first baby fig of 2014 Photo P Finnigan

The first baby fig of 2014
Photo P Finnigan

cold weather; ants, flies, dragonflies, butterflies flitting and dancing together,  six bats emerging at dusk and the first baby fig on our tree!  However, it’s a bit chilly this morning….

Enter, the much adored Silvio Berlusconi.  Oh no, things are sadly on the downward slope for SB.  Italy’s highest appeal court has upheld his two-year ban from

Silvio swallows the pill. Photo Indiatimes

Silvio swallows the pill.
Photo Indiatimes

public office, after which he ‘auto-suspended’ himself from the ‘Federation of Knights’ ahead of a meeting, where he expected to be stripped of the title.  Described by many Italians as ‘Il Cavaliere’, he will now have to get used to being simply Mr Berlusconi!  Meanwhile, he has scotched rumours that his children will stand as candidates for his party Forza Italia in the EU elections.  What to do next, that is the question?  When you are the sixth richest person in Italy, one’s choices are very limited…….

Oh, I nearly forgot.  I promised to send you a snippet from my new novel ‘The Bolivian Connection’ to be published later this year.  I will send you a taster mid-week as I am now under pressure to get on with the day job.  Nevertheless, life eez good, life eez now!

Have a great week.

Amore June xx

PS here is the link for my Amazon Author Page:

http://www.amazon.com/author/junefinnigan

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