Saturday, July 31, 2010

The Nasty Little Man - 31 Jul 2010


Once upon a time, Little Red Riding Hood walked to the vast Forest of No Return. She wanted to buy some real estate there because she had enough of the big, wide world. She leapt and jumped along the path through the forest, looking for the palace of her dreams. Then, she heard a rustling sound in the bushes. Carefully she stepped a little closer to see what was hiding there. All of a sudden the Big Bad Wolf jumped at her from behind a tree.

- “Hahaaa”, the Big Bad Wolf roared, “What’s up, Little Red Riding Hood?”
Little Red Riding Hood wasn’t impressed at all by this sudden appearance. In fact, she thought the Big Bad Wolf looked pretty cool with one part of his shirt dangling out of his shorts.

- “I’m looking for a new home because I’ve had enough of the big, wide world ”, Little Red Riding Hood replied, “can you please help me out?

- “Sure I can, sure I can…”, the Big Bad Wolf said, “I know just the place for you!”

So he took her to a very very remote spot, well hidden on a crest within the forest. The place was absolutely fabulous and Little Red Riding Hood immediately fell in love with it. Yes, here she could be truly happy. There was just one little problem, though: she was looking at a ruin, not the palace she’d been dreaming of.

- “What do you think of that, ‘ey? Isn’t it a dream?”, the Big Bad Wolf said.

- “I don’t know... Just look at it… It’s completely derelict! It’ll need a lot of work before I can finally come and live here.”

- “Don’t you trust me then? Truly, I swear to you… I know just the right man to do it and it’ll cost you close to nothing.”

- “Allright then, it’s a deal. Take me to this man of yours.”

So the Big Bad Wolf took Little Red Riding Hood to the Nasty Little Man. He and his seven dwarfs would turn Little Red Riding Hood’s newly acquired ruin into a palace. And so the works started. In the beginning all went well. But then Little Red Riding Hood discovered a couple of flaws in the contract with the Big Bad Wolf.

- “Where’s the sewer?”, she suddenly asked.

- “A sewer? Well… there isn’t any of course!”, the Big Bad Wolf replied.
- “Then how am I supposed to go to the ladies’?”

- “Err… You could always go behind a tree?”, he uttered.

- “And what about insulation? I don’t want to be cold during the long and harsh winters.”

- “Insulation??? Are you joking? You don’t need any insulation over here!”, the Big Bad Wolf laughed at her.

Little Red Riding Hood found this a bit suspicious so she called Mr. Owl, just to be on the safe side. And Mr. Owl told Little Red Riding Hood that she did need the insulation. And that she did need an extra support in concrete in case the Big Bad Wolf’s brother (the Wolf of the Three Piglets) would come to blow her house down. And that she did need protection against the snowy mountain behind the house so it wouldn’t fall down on her. And he also informed her that the Big Bad Wolf had never asked him the official permission to start working. After all, Mr. Owl was in charge around these premises.

Little Red Riding Hood became angry. Very angry!

- “You’re fired!”, she shouted at the Big Bad Wolf.

The little eyes of the Big Bad Wolf narrowed. He started grinding his long teeth. His stinking breath blew mercilessly in Little Red Riding Hood’s face.

- “Oh really?”, he growled, “I warn you, girlie… don’t you mess with me! We had a contract, remember? And if you don’t obey me I’ll have you for supper!”

But then something happened which the Big Bad Wolf hadn’t anticipated. Little Red Riding Hood suddenly became taller… and taller… Her whole appearance changed. Her face became purple. Her eyes turned from bright blue into flaming red; casting little bolts of lightning at him. Before the Big Bad Wolf realised what was going on, Little Red Riding Hood had changed into the Evil Witch. She pointed her bony finger at him and hissed:
- “You were going to warn me about… what exactly?”
- “Rrrrribbit!... Rrrrribbit!...”, was all the Big Bad Wolf could utter when he discovered to his astonishment that the Evil Witch had turned him into a fat frog. “Rrrribbit!...”

The Evil Witch now looked at the Nasty Little Man, who was about to hand over his final bill to Little Red Riding Hood. Timing had never been one of his strong points. The piece of paper fluttered in his greasy hand as all of his body started shaking of fear. He was into great difficulties. Not only because he didn’t fancy being turned into a frog as well, but also because he still had to pay a twenty-percent under-the-table commission to the Big Bad Wolf. Or rather make that, to the fat frog. As harmless a creature the Big Bad Wolf may have become, he could still sing to Mr. Owl about some illegal practices the Nasty Little Man had carried out.

- “Rrrribbit!...”

Sweat dripped in big pearls from the forehead of the Nasty Little Man. His piggy eyes stood open wide. How could he possibly escape unharmed from this terrible position he found himself in?

- “Let me see that bill”, the Evil Witch said with a tone that was halfway between frozen nitrogen and sugar floss. For heaven’s sake, she even smiled at him! A smile like a kiss of death. Trembling he handed over the piece of paper to the Evil Witch.

- “Err… you’ll see… it’s all there…”, he stuttered.

- “I can see that”, the Evil Witch said, “you'd have me pay twice the price for a layer of concrete.”

- “Honestely… err… Ma’am, that’s the price the vendor’s charging me.”

- “Is it really? Then the vendor mustn’t like your ugly face very much because he said that for me the price would only be half of what you wrote here!”

- “Oh, but in that case, we could fix that, couldn’t we?” The Nasty Little Man was fighting for his life. He quickly scrapped the original figure and changed it into a more decent one.
- “And what do we have here?”, the Evil With continued, “Three goldpieces for installing a scaffolding? You cheeky bastard! It was I who put that scaffolding there!”
- “Yes indeed you did Ma’am, but… err… I still have to charge you for it, don’t I?”

- “Charge me for it???”

- “After all, it is my scaffolding and I had to pay for it, didn’t I?” The Nasty Little Man had never been any good at improvising, but what else could he do?

- “So you’re charging me three goldpieces for having installed your scaffolding? For that price I could've bloody bought myself a brand new one!”

- “It’s only a minor detail, now if…”
- “No! I’m not paying that! Next item…”

- “Allright.”

- “Pouring concrete on my terrace… two goldpieces…”

- “Yes? Is there anything wrong with that, Ma’am?”

- “Yes there is.”

- “Oh? And what may that be, Ma’am?”

- “You didn’t pour any concrete on my terrace. I had someone else do it.”
- “I see… Yes!!! Now I remember! What are two goldpieces anyway? Let’s just scrap that, shall we?… There you go…”

- “And now the final bit!”

- “Yes?”

- “The discount for all the work I did.”

- “Discount, Ma’am? For… your work???”

- “Yes. Three months working for you and I’ll only count eight hours per day (in stead of the ten or twelve I did) and I’ll also forget about all of those Sundays, allright? And to do you an even bigger favour, after all I’m a poor little lady and I’m not as strong as your seven dwarfs, I’ll only count half of the price you pay your dwarfs per hour of labour. So we arrive at… The round sum of…”

- “Yes???”

- “Four goldpieces!!!”, the Evil Witch exclaimed.

- “What??? Fff… Fff… Fffour ggg… gggoldpieces???”

- “Didn’t I just do you a big favour here?”, the Evil Witch said with the most soothing voice imaginable.

- “Four goldpieces??? For you watching me do all of the work???”

A sudden silence fell over the forest. The Nasty Little Man could not believe that he had just said that. Was it because his dream of a new Audi Q8 was evaporating in front of his eyes? Or was it because a warty, fat frog was biting in his buttocks?

- “Rrribbit!”

The Evil Witch was stunned by so much arrogance. She pointed her finger also at him. The Nasty Little Man stiffened of fear. But yet his pride did not allow him to apologise for the foul thing he had just said. His pride also made him fail to notice that his legs started shrinking. More and more until his feet were touching his fat belly.

But to his great relief, the magic had drained all of the Evil Witch’s powers. Also she started shrinking and eventually she became Little Red Riding Hood again. Tired but very much relieved that it was over, she turned her back at the Nasty Even More Little Man and started walking away. In the mean time, the Nasty Even More Little Man had regained his confidence because the Evil Witch had gone and only a frail little girl remained. He started shouting at her. Albeit not with his usual grumbling voice. Together with his legs, his voice had shrunk as if it had been puffed up by an amount of helium sufficient to blow up three medium-sized blimps.

- “And what about my money? I want to see my money now! Hey!!! Don’t you dare walking away from me! When will you give me my money??? I also have to pay a twenty-percent comm… Auch!!! You stinking frog!!! Get off me!!!”

- “Rrribbit!!!”

- “Hey!!! Where are you going??? You’ll hear from me in September! Do you hear? You’ll hear from me in September!!!...”

The Nasty Even More Little Man’s voice faded in the mist that began to cover the trees. Little Red Riding Hood was glad that it was over. A smile returned to her face and the roses started growing on her cheeks again.

- “Yes… come back in September”, she laughed… “If you still dare…”

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Please don't forget about us!!! - 25 Jul 2010

When reading my previous message, you might forget that we have three other "babies" running around too. And "babies" is indeed the correct word because all of our cats need a lot of care and attention. Take Canelle, for example...


She's already quite a lady with her eight years of age. But nonetheless she's very shy. Which is quite obvious after all that she must have been through. Christine used to be a member of the Belgian Animal Protection Organisation and every now and then she received a magazine, packed with one sad story after the other. And there she was. The note next to her picture said: "thrown out when the baby arrived". We were absolutely gutted when we saw her lying there in the asylum, on the top shelf, far away from the other cats. So for two years and a half already she's part of the family. She's still a loner and hisses and claws at the others when they're getting too close. But on the other hand she's so very affectionate. Drooling by the gallon every time she's caressed. We often wonder what kind of a monster someone must be to have left her behind just like that.

Next is Blu. She was the "replacement" we received from the breeders of our beloved Ciuffa, a 9-month old kitten that died of the dreaded Feline Immunodeficiency Virus over a year ago...


Just like Ciuffa, she's not just "a" cat. Oh no! She's 100% genuine nobility with her Norwegian Forest Cat pedigree. There you go! Why pay so much money for a "cat", just to have a pedigree, you might ask? Well, at first we were also wondering. But now we're absolutely convinced that there is much more to the true Norwegian Forest pedigree than their enormous size, their lovely, long fur and the big, fat tail. These cats have - in four words - the most adorable character. They're so kind, loving and have no aggression in them whatsoever. Even though Blu likes to hiss at Flora every once and a while; just to enforce her "elderly" status. But for the rest, there's no cat in the world who'd give so much true love. Apart from little Flora perhaps. She does't speak very much, apart from a faint squeek every now and then. But her green, almondy eyes tell you more than a thousand words. Predominantly: "I love you". And what about Thomas, you might say?...


Well... Thomas is just... Thomas. Named after the youngest son of a close friend of ours, he's the coolest and most relaxed tomcat around. Hardly a year old but already the leader of the pack. We got him so Blu wouldn't be lonely anymore. After all, Canelle tends to avoid the company of the others and Norwegians are by exception very sociable cats. It worked out just fine. Even if it meant that we had to drive all the way up to one of the most remote places in Holland. It was more than worth it. He has a quality you may not immediately expect from a tomcat, but he's a keen... talker! He constantly goes about, babbling and purring to everything and everyone. Soooo cute! He's very fashionable too. Every day he finds something different to decorate his black and grey fur with. Yesterday it was a long, bright-yellow leaf with a piece of twig that he had stuck behind his left ear. Today, it was a big ball of hair and dust that he had attached to his big tail. Waving it about and shouting "Cooie!!! Look at me now! Don't you think I'm the prettiest boy on the planet?" It took some time to convince Flora of that fact. In the beginning she found him a bit too posh and pushy; always babbling at her and declaring his love and devotion... But now they've become inseparable. If you see one, you're likely to find the other one too.

Truly... one, big, happy family...

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Flora's poem - 21 Jul 2010

I was born in Hungary. I didn't ask to be born. But you absolutely wanted me to, although I don't understand why. You didn't play with me, even though I like to play so very much. I came to sit on your lap and rolled over and back to show you my appreciation because you had decided to let me live. I meowed and gently tapped with my little paw on your face. I jumped with joy all across the room. But you didn't take any notice. I'm supposed to be a Maine Coon kitten and therefore my long fur needs a brush every once and a while. Something you never cared to do. Until my fur was full of knots and I shivered because I had nothing to protect me against the harsh winter cold. I cried, but you never listened. I was hungry, but all I got were a few leftovers. And still, I loved you. And I remained eternally grateful because you had decided to let me live.

And then one day, you sold me to a ruthless man for a fistful of money. You put me in a cage, together with all of my little brothers and sisters and let that man throw us in a lorry. A lorry full of little, hungry and thirsty kittens like me. I begged you not to let him do this. I begged you to let me stay. I'd be a nice girl and I wouldn't complain about anything. But you didn't listen. You were counting the few Florints in your hand and didn't look back at me anymore. The big door of the lorry closed and everything became dark. A darkness filled with the incessant cries of dozens of little kittens. I was so scared. I wished so hard that this was only a bad dream and that I would wake up in your arms again. But every time I opened my eyes I could only see the many cages filled with other kittens who shared my fate.

The journey was long. Very long. The air was filled with the stench of our poo and pee because noone brought us a box with cat litter so we could do our thing. We didn't get any food or water either. For some of my unfortunate brothers and sisters, the suffering had been too much and they gave up. Soon, a different and much more horrible smell mingled with the foul air in the back of the lorry. And everything remained dark. The lamenting faded away. As did the life in my veins.

When I was about take my last breath, the lorry was opened. The light was blinding and I opened my eyes in spite of them being nearly glued shut with pus. I didn't have the strength anymore to resist but nevertheless the man dragged me out of my cage by the skin of my neck. Even though that hurts so badly. For a glimpse I saw the devastation in the back of that lorry. I wish I hadn't looked. The man put a cold hose on me to wash most of the dirt off. My whole body trembled. I barely weighed 60% of what a kitten of my age and race should. Could you, a man of 80kg, imagine that you'd suddenly weigh 48kg anymore? Even worse, since I'm a kitten, I desperately needed food for my development because that's something I would have lost forever. And yes, you did give me food. A few scraps and some kind of stinking jelly that you wouldn't even feed to the rats. But again, I didn't complain. I even pointed my paw at you because I believed that also you are good and that you'd want me to be your friend. But you ignored me and left me in a small cage in a strange building. Yet, I was grateful. Grateful because the cage you had put me in was bigger than the one in the lorry and at least the air wasn't as foul. Yes, I was most grateful to you.

The night was long and cold. To my surprise, after this one night you already came for me to bring me to yet another destination. I wanted to see a vet because I didn't feel very well. I was so hungry. But all you did was printing a self-made note saying that a vet had declared me as healthy as a horse and signing it under the pretext that you're a vet. You shoved me in a small bag and threw me in a van.

The journey was again long. But fortunately not as long as the one you had made me undergo when you had come to drag me away from my mother. I shivered of fear and exhaustion. I made myself as tiny as possible in a corner of this bag, hoping that noone would notice me anymore.

You stopped the van and waited. Waited for over an hour. You were tired of driving and even though you had been paid to deliver me at my new destnation, you prefered that my new owner would drive through the snow in order to collect me. My new owner was called Christine. How could I ever imagine that fortune would turn so dramatically in my favour. Christine was nice to me. She smiled at me when my frightened eyes looked at her from the corner in my bag. She said gentle words to me and even caressed me on my little head. When we arrived at her house, she immediately saw in what state I was in and she did everything in her power to make me feel better. She called me "Flora", a name which I liked a lot. At least once every week she drove with me to the vet for a check up. She did make me swallow these nasty little pills. But I realised it was for my own good. I also got to know her husband Peter. Yes, I had found a new mum and dad. I even received two sisters, Canelle and Blu, and one brother, Thomas! Sisters and brothers with whom I could play the whole day long. I had finally found a place full of love. A place where I could be happy. And I showed them my appreciation in abundance. I started playing again; something I hadn't done in a long while. I started feeling better and gained a lot of weight in just a couple of weeks. I happily chased my little, green ball and made surprise attacks on the "mice" that were hidden under the large piece of cloth that Christine had given me as a present. Peter was so furious about what you had done to me, that he immediately claimed the small fortune back that you had made him pay for me. And even your bank agreed that you had committed fraud and immediately withdrew the small fortune from your account again to return it to Peter.

This made you mad. You wouldn't listen to reason. Your ego was so large that you believed that you had done nothing wrong at all. You were so mad that you went to court to complain about how unreasonable Peter had been with you. A courtcase that is still pending, but for which Christine and Peter are no longer afraid.

In your rage, have you ever thought about me? Have you ever wondered how things are going for me right now? Have you ever considered that the suffering you caused will have its effect throughout my entire life? Last week, my nose started leaking again and my breathing became once more difficult. So Christine and Peter took me to another vet yesterday in order to have a second opinion. On the x-rays you could clearly see that the infection on my lungs for which you are responsible has grown dramatically. The antibiotics with which I was treated last month, had only had a very limited effect and now the infection has developed into a full-size pneumonia. Soon, Christine and Peter will bring me to a specialist who'll have to take a sample from my lungs in order to determine whether it's a virus, resistant bacteria or fungus causing the disease.

But one thing's for sure. I'll keep on fighting. See... I'm still running about as if nothing's wrong with me. I'm still hissing at Blu and clawing playfully at Thomas' fat, black tail. Christine and Peter have lost three cats in less than a year. But they're not going to lose me. I truly realise now how beautiful life can be. I enjoy it way too much in order to let go. I've forgiven you for everything you've done to me. I consider it as the necessary pain someone has to undergo in order to find true happiness. Why can't you just be happy for me then?


Sunday, July 18, 2010

The strole around our garden - 18 Jul 2010

Welcome to the guided tour along the Peter & Christine estate. Please follow the guide and do not step outside of the dedicated path. Thank you. Here you can see our house. It's nearing completion and when the windows will be in place next week, it will most certainly already look a whole lot different, wont' it? But Christine... where are you going? You're not going inside now are you? You're supposed to show mama Cosetta and friend Fiorella all corners of our estate! So put yourself together! I know that it's hot out there but come on... here in the mountains it's not nearly as hot as in the cities below! It's a mild 32° and a gentle breeze makes it more than bearable, even under the merciless midday sun.


Ah... ok... off we go into the large field in front of the house. We turn back one last time and please hold your cameras at the ready... there's a splendid view of the house coming up...


We continue west along the edge of the field. Can you see the woodlands in front of you? They're ours. To be precise, just the front part that is, which is bordering our field and going downhill in southerly direction. Not the forest on the hill just behind it (left on the picture)...


Here you can see it a bit more clearly. The woods on the foreground are ours, the ones on the hills in the distance are not...


We now take a small path on our right, in between the trees, and arrive at another, smaller field. This field isn't ours but the woods to your left are. They extend as far as the trees you can see about 50 yards further. In these woods there's not only a large variety of trees, plants and wildlife. You can find tasty mushrooms there (given that you know which ones to pick... :-) ), berries, beautiful flowers, wild little strawberries which are just packed with flavour and... if you know how to find them... delicious truffles!


Allright allright... We know that you're just tourists and that obviously you hadn't thought of wearing a pair of decent walking shoes when you came to visit our estate. So we'll skip the trail through the woods and head back for the main field. East, in the far distance, you can spot Mount Valestra, which is quite near to where mama Cosetta has her B&B... the place where we got to know this magnificent part of Italy...


Mind where you're going!!! I warned you that you were not to walk outside of the dedicated path! You nearly stepped on this beautiful flower which grows so lonely in this vast meadow...


South it goes... downhill. At the southwesterly edge of the field there is yet another path in between the trees which leads to another field...


Just look at that! The three mountains which dominate the area: (from left to right) Mount Prampa (1698m), Mount Cisa (1698m) and last but not least Mount Cusna, with its 2120m the second-highest peak in the entire Appennines. Do you see that large bush on the foreground, straight in the middle of the picture? That's more or less the border of our estate. It cuts the field in two from roughly east to west...


We're now going back to the house. By the way, all of the woods you can see on your right (east, southeast and south) plus the woods on the hill behind our house (north) are ours too. But they're not easily accessible and on top of that they're going rather steeply downhill on the south side. So we won't bother you tourists with a slightly adventurous journey through the wild and rough. I'm sure that you've seen enough as it is for the moment.








Oh... and please don't forget the guide! :-)

Friday, July 16, 2010

The land of fairytales - 16 Jul 2010

Today, I'd like to take you to the land of fairytales. The land where every new day brings about a new set of shades. Where every day the light is different and the distant mountains appear in a way like you've never seen them before. Where behind every corner nature has yet another surprise in store for you and you're obliged to halt your journey in utter astonishment. "Look at that!!!...", I said to myself when I turned my Vespa into one of these little, winding roads along the green Emilian slopes...


The sun was setting. It's evening dress painted the scenery in a flaming sort of orange. Dark smoke blew forth as it fell closer and closer to the horizon.


Eventually, it couldn't resist gravity any longer. One last ray shone across the mountaintop before it disappeared into the night.


The night which totally erases the beautiful painting, after which the master artist begins totally anew. With a new set of colours and brushes...



It's in this land that Christine and I now live...

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Tribute to genuine craftsmen - 14 Jul 2010

Yes, they do exist: people who still take their work seriously and try their utmost to deliver a job well done. And we've found them! Take our new contractor for example. The electrician. Or better still... the people who've done the internal plastering and the sub-floor. We wanted to use as many natural and authentic materials as possible. And these guys have really amazed us. The plasterworks are truly a masterpiece and it would be a pity to put paint on them. Within the plaster there a millions of tiny pieces of local stone ("sasso") which give a beautiful effect. Just like it was done centuries ago. All people who've already visited our house agreed that it's a wonderful sight and our new geometer absolutely wanted their contact number.


Not surprisingly we wanted to hire the same guys to lay the sub-floor upon which the pavement will be put later on. Like I already mentioned, this particular firm uses a terracotta based substance, rather than the concrete sub-floor that is usually used. Yes... it's twice as expensive... Not really the sort of thing you'd normally choose when your financial situation isn't all that brilliant. But this terracotta mixture is in fact the same as the one the Romans already used for their floor heating 2000 years ago. After all, terracotta conducts heat many times better than concrete. This means that for starters we'll not nearly have to spend as much on central heating and that we'll have a return on investment in perhaps a couple of years already. But it also means that the central heating will have an even more pleasant feel than with normal floor heating.

But two weeks ago... disaster struck. Christine had already been pushing them to come as quickly as possible since they had been deferring their work for already quite some time. We were actually heading towards a tough choice. Either waiting even longer or hiring someone else and settling for the "normal" concrete. Unfortunately in our region noone else offers the same terracotta sub-floor. Christine tried to call them one last time and to our horror they had very bad news for us. They were already involved in a very big building project and they were under a lot of pressure to finish that before a tight deadline. It had become impossible to fit us in before September. Christine and I were devastated. Our wallet perhaps a bit less so. But we had such high esteem of these particular workers and their products that it would really be a pity having to revert to "normal" materials and - who knows - people who didn't take their work as seriously.

And then... the phone rang. It was the foreman again. And this time he had just wonderful news! The sort of news which would actually make one believe in divine intervention (although almost but not quite to me... hehehe...). A serious problem had occured at the big building project and the works had to be stopped for four days. Just enough time to do the job at our house!!! Hurray!!!

These guys actually come from the city of Modena, which is almost an hour's drive away. When they had come to do the plasterworks, they had rented a small cottage in our village for the period of the works. After all, this would save them a lot of time and in the current summer heat it's much more pleasant over here in the mountains. Can you believe that they worked from early morning until 9 'o clock in the evening? When they returned, Christine treated them on her famous pasta with broccoli and Gorgonzola cheese. In order to give you an idea about how close friends they've become in the mean time, the foreman confided that when he had to tell Christine that they weren't able to make it, he had burst out in tears. Where do you still find this kind of commitment? We feel so very fortunate!


The process of laying this terracotta sub-floor is quite similar than that of a normal concrete floor. First some patches are put all across the room to establish the exact hight. (You can also see the tubes of the floor heating on the picture...)



Then the terracotta mixture is sprayed through a hose and levelled by hand.


And here's a picture of the result. It's so beautiful that it's almost a pity that it still has to be covered with a pavement. By the way, the pavement will also be made of real terracotta.


It doesn't just look nice, there isn't any odour from solvents or other nasty products that are used in the "normal" concrete mixture. This is a 100% natural product and you can feel that right away. Now... the pavement...



Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Teaching English at last??? - 13 Jul 2010

I already told you that I would try to earn a bit of extra money by teaching English. Within the limits of my ability, that is, because working full-time has become out of the question for me. And I've also already inquired what is legally possible of course because I wouldn't want to risk losing my pension.

Since I haven't heard a peep from the Castelnovo ne' Monti council anymore, I went back there yesterday in order to ask if they had already considered my proposal. Eventually I got to see the head of the department of education and to my disappointment he wasn't all that enthusiastic. Although after I explained that all I needed was a classroom and some publicity from the commune, he already seemed a bit more interested. Especially when I said that if there would be, let's say, 10 people subscribing to the course, I could offer it at only a few Euros per lesson. So in the end he did take note of my name and number. On the other hand, he mentioned that there already existed a private school in the commune which offered English classes to children and adults. He gave me the address and said that I would find the contact number of the head teacher there. So off I went, to the "Euroschool".

When I arrived, however, the office was closed. Not surprisingly because after all it's the summer holidays. But nevertheless I tried the mobile number which I found on the door. I got to speak to a very nice lady who happened to be... thrilled because of my call. She said that she had been looking for a teacher already for quite some time and that she wanted to meet me. "Would tomorrow be ok?", she asked. "Sure, I'm always available", I replied. "But... you told me that you're at the office now, right? Would you mind waiting 15 minutes? I'll come down there as quickly as possible!". How about that? 15 minutes later she arrived indeed and greeted me like if I were a king. She said that I was "the cheese on the pasta"! :-) It's her intention to expand her school because demand for language courses (and especially conversation) is huge and there are no opportunities at all, unless you're prepared to travel to Reggio Emilia or Sassuolo, 45min away. She was already planning some summer courses so I may be able to start as a teacher much earlier than I expected. Again... given that this would not be a problem for the Belgian social security. On the other hand, I've always been fair with them and I do hope that they understand that my condition does not allow me to do a full-time job anymore. Still this wouldn't impede me from contributing to society at my own pace, would it? Even if it's for just a couple of hours per week, I wouldn't be as much of a burden to society anymore, now would I? We'll see. The lady was also going to make some inquiries with her accountant in order to see how I could fit in. I'd probably need a tax registry number too because I would be hired as a freelancer. Which actually suits me fine. A couple of hours here and there... Just perfect!

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Married for 10 years! - 10 Jul 2010

Yesterday was the remembrance day for us being together for 11 years and... married for 10! So this called for a bit of celebration. More important still, it's quite a coincidence that our 10th wedding anniversary was at the same time the first we got to celebrate in Italy. The end of a decade, but the beginning of many more to come in our newly found paradise.

So I booked a table for two in a cosy little "Osteria" in Castelnovo ne' Monti. The place is actually owned by two lovely ladies and we've already taken a couple of the workers there in order to thank them for the wonderful job they've done. Indeed, many of them have become really good friends and in return, they've often gone the extra mile to deliver a perfect job. But more about that later.

When I made my reservation, I already asked the lady whether she could not do something special for this special occasion. It didn't have to be much; just a small attention in order to wow Christine a bit. Nevertheless, even I was quite touched when I saw the lovely composition with a rose and long grass with which the ladies had decorated our table. Yes, this evening would definitely be filled with magic.
The food was just superb. In fact, the entire map sounded so incredibly delicious that it took us quite some time to make our decision. And the service... well... I just can't find the right words to describe how kindly we were treated. Christine immediately agreed with me that this little Osteria will be our place to be for these special occasions in life. And just when we were both carried away by a dream about eternal happiness together, the two ladies arrived with the dessert. We both received a glass of an excellent, white dessert wine and... look at the cake they'd especially prepared for us:



And you wouldn't think that I'd let this moment go by without taking a few pictures of ourselves, would you? :-)






I'm sure that you'd agree... We look absolutely happy, don't we? And indeed we are. We are so very much. In spite of all the difficulties we wouldn't hesitate a second to take the same decision about moving to Italy again. It was our destiny to do so and here we've truly found the happiness and peace we both needed so very badly.

And oh... did I already mention that the wildlife here is just stunning? At night you can hear the wolves, owls and... yes yes... nightingales. There are badgers, ferrets, wild boars, deer, magnificent birds of pray and so much more. And yesterday evening, after driving home from this wonderful dinner, we spotted a family of foxes along the road. The cubs quickly hid in a drainpipe, but the mother (or father?) kept anxiously running around our car, probably to protect the cubs. I managed to take a picture of her, although it wasn't easy because I had to be quick. And yes, our chickens will not really appreciate the presence of foxes. But that's just the way nature is. It's just perfect.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Squirming and worming - 04 Jul 2010

Last Friday we received a registered letter from the local council. It stated that since our "director of works" (i.e. Danilo) has resigned from his duties (in April), all structural works to our house have to be stopped immediately.

Well, isn't that a pity? The structural works to which the council refers (i.e. our original building request dating from September last year) have already been completed two months ago! So to us this letter is kind of a joke. :-D
All in all we actually see it as a sign that many people are indeed backing us up. This letter was probably "delayed" a bit until it was absolutely certain that it would no longer have any effect on us. Or until Danilo came to complain for the umpteenth time and he no longer be ignored. It doesn't matter anymore. Even if they'd send an inspection team to our house, they wouldn't find anything illegal. The terracotta sub-floor they're coming to lay next Wednesday is no part of the original request for the structural restoration works. And neither are the tiles, the new windows and doors. And then the house will be habitable!!! Hurray!!! :-D

Friday, July 2, 2010

Insurance or no insurance? That's the question! - 02 Jul 2010

The beauty of the “Unified Europe” is that people can migrate freely in it without any hassle, petty administrative rules or insurmountable problems. So far the theory; now back to the real world. In Belgium one does not need a license plate for a 50cc Vespa scooter. In Italy you do. Well, if it’s only that, you might say. Indeed, getting the license plate for my Vespa was relatively easy. Two visits to the vehicle registry office of Reggio Emilia and I was happy to receive my brand new plate. So far so good. However, since my Vespa was from now on registered in Italy, my Belgian insurance was no longer valid. No problem. Christine and I went to the first insurance office we came across in order to ask for a price offer for both my Vespa and her car. The answer was:
- “Impossible. Before we can make any offer, you must present to us the official document from your former Belgian insurance stating your bonus-malus category.”
- “But surely, if we tell you that we’re in the lowest category and that we haven’t had any accidents for the past 20 years, you must be able to tell us more or less how much an insurance with you would cost? It’s not like we’re already signing a contract, is it?”
- “No. Not without this document!”
Christine grabbed her phone and called our Belgian insurance agent. He said he could produce a statement saying that we’re very decent drivers and send it by fax”.
- “That’s not good enough”, the Italian agent said, “I need the original copy.”
- “But we won’t receive the original copy until we’ve returned our Belgian license plate! So, what should we do in the mean time? We can’t drive around without plates or insurance, now can we?”
The man’s stunning reply was:
- “Well, you can always go by bus?”
We left the office totally devastated. A bit further down the road there was another insurance broker, but we got exactly the same story there. Be it that this lady eventually did produce a simulation based on our claim that we were in the lowest bonus-malus scale.
Eventually, we returned to the first broker (who had - to be honest - produced a quote for insuring my Vespa based on me being a “new” driver and who turned out to be quite a bit cheaper than the others). In the end, for a Vespa the difference between the starter bonus-malus category and the best category wasn’t all that high and I wouldn’t pay a lot more than I did in Belgium. Our Belgian insurer had in the mean time also gone at great lengths to send us some documents which we could use to convince his Italian counterpart. As far as Christine car’s concerned, we still want to wait a while because she still wants to return to Flanders for a week or two in September. Apparently the Swiss customs are peculiarly picky about Italian license plates. But we’re certain that eventually we can arrange everything. In the mean time, we can already drive around on my Vespa along the beautiful Emilian mountain roads. Which we’ve already done in abundance over the last week. In this kind of weather, there’s no better and enjoyable way of transport around here. The Vespa is just made for these winding roads through the forests and across the hills (downhill that is – uphill with two persons on the scooter is more like a stationary view of the local scenery), where you can expect yet another spectacular view after every curve.

All in all, it’s perhaps all of these administrative problems that make the difference between the people who can make their dream to move to a new life come true and those who can’t make it. I can very much understand that many would already have given up by now. But I have to give Christine all the credit here because due to her perseverance, we’re still here, stronger than ever. And we eventually WILL make that dream come true. You can rest assured of that!