Lift off

It's about time that I tell you some more news about my book. I already informed you that it'll be out for sale by early May, which is actually within a week or so. My editor's publicity machine has been doing overtime lately and you can already find my book on all of the major book websites in Flanders and the Netherlands. But that is not all. Apparently there's a big interest from journalists and therefore my editor asked me to return to Flanders for a couple of days to do some interviews. 5 journalists have already confirmed so the 17-19th of May will be quite hectic for me. I don't know yet from which newspapers or magazines they are, but it's not unlikely that they are major ones. I'm beginning to fear that things are slowly beginning to run out of hand. The fact that the director general of my publishing company told me that she wants to take me out for dinner doesn't really help to take this feeling away either! There used to be a time when I was always trying to be at the centre of attention, merely because being autistic I didn't get any attention from the other children and also because I didn't know how I could claim my "normal share" of the common attention. Most of the time, however, this brought me into a lot of trouble because my ways of seeking attention were far from the generally accepted ones. It was (and still is) so very hard for me to figure out what is "generally accepted" anyway. So after more than 40 years and a serious breakdown I'm now more inclined to stay out of the floodlights. Oh holy coincidence... it's now that the attention is suddenly coming my way without me asking for it! How strange life can be, can't it? 

And now I still have to tell you the best bit. My editor just sent me a review of my book by nobody else but Dirk Verhofstadt - yes, the former Belgian prime minister's brother. I'm not going to translate all of the review because it's simply too long. Let me just say that it was stunnigly positive! A few excerpts:

"... the author draws a profound image (of autism)..."

"... to create a coherent picture of what autism is, something in which the author masterfully succeeds."

and especially this one:

"Some of the pieces have been written exceptionally well and even remind me of "Kleine Dagen", the book which won Bernard Dewulf the Libris Prize 2010" (one of the most important literary prizes in the Flemish/Dutch language)  

Mr. Verhofstadt is even organising a public presentation of my book, under the auspices of the Flemish Liberal Party. Taken aside the without any doubt political aspect of this presentation, it will most certainly be a wonderful promotion for the book itself. I will have to answer questions and then Marleen Verpoorten, the former Flemish minister of education will speak about her ideas to improve the integration of autistic children at school. Afterwards there will be a reception and book sale (with autographs?...). 

Well I'll be... Phew... 

Reconciliation?

I've already elaborated a lot about the various courtcases Christine and I are involved in for the moment. It's a bit cynical because all we wanted when we moved to Italy was to lead a quiet and more secluded life and we didn't want any trouble with anyone. Alas, fate decided otherwise. Sometimes circumstances can force you to accept something you had preferred otherwise. In our case, the attempted rip-off by our ex-geometer and contractor. Last Thursday our sollicitor had organised a meeting at our house to bring all the parties round the table. It was something I didn't look forward to at all. There used to be a time when I could face a possible conflict situation with my head up high, as my former colleagues might remember. It was a very good front because in reality I can only run away from conflicts. These days the front is gone and running away is all that's left for me. Fortunately there are still Christine, our brilliant sollicitor and the expert she hired to assess the works carried out to our house and the damages that appeared afterwards. So I held myself together and watched the scene from the background. And it was a very nice scene indeed.

First our solicitor arrived together with Alberto, the expert, and we went through a couple of the details that were to be discussed. They agreed that for the works carried out so far we had already paid more than enough and that this would be the position they'd take against the others. Christine greeted them first while I was still creating some sort of order in the house. When I came out a couple of minutes later, Christine suddenly held a paper in front of my nose and asked: "is this my signature?" It obviously wasn't. It was like if a five-year old had written it... on the "Safety report for the building site". This is a document that should have been produced long before any of the works started and which we had never seen in our lives! "And this", Christine asked, "is this perhaps my signature?" No, again it obviously wasn't. "And this?" Again clearly not, although the last one was forged a lot better than the two previous ones. So apart from the building permit, Danilo had suddenly forged another three vital documents which he had "forgotten" to produce. Obviously responding to the request of our expert who hadn't found these vital documents in the files of the commune's administration. It was a very nice start of the event and things would only get better. Soon afterwards they arrived. Nasty Little Man Nezio leapt out of his truck and barged towards our terrace with his big belly high up in the air. His fat head resembled to a red balloon that was about to explode. He was after his money and his gestures didn't leave any room for doubt about that. Then we saw a rather unexpected little car drive up our entrance lane: a flashing yellow Fiat Panda. Not the sort of car you'd associate with a solicitor of the Danilo-clan, to let alone Big Bad Wolf Danilo in person. Then again, you may recall that in November 2009, when the works to our house had only just started, Danilo drove his brand new VW Golf off a cliff and was lucky to escape alive. Afterwards we heard about his drinking problem and when I saw him crawling out of the vehicle it was obvious that the serious overconsumption of alcohol had taken its toll. He was no longer the stylish and extravagant man we had got to know in the beginning and who had been able to completely fool us in this adventure. He had become an old man, his hair still long but thinning and very untidy. His overall looks were shabby and the wrinkles on his pale face had become deep, black grooves. The evil sparkle in his eyes had remained though and made us aware that he'd not be easy to deal with. This man was highly experienced in this sort of thing - he's probably been ripping people off since childhood - and he feels very secure because of the power he and his family enjoy in the area. Our two ex-solicitors, among which a very famous and respected one, had already wetted their pants, as a matter of speaking, when they heard about who we were up against. Danilo strolled calmly towards Nezio and us, sat down on one of the rocks bordering our terrace and grinned. He didn't say a word, but just sat there. Out of the same car stepped the family solicitor - Danilo's nephew. He was exactly the sort of solicitor you'd expect to defend a family of mobsters: slick, black suit and tie, unshaven, enormous black sunglasses (which he never cared to take off, even though there were more and more clouds in the sky) and a toothpaste smile. He presented himself and firmly shook our hands. The game was on...

Sabrina, our solicitor, was not impressed at all and decided to take the bull by the horns. She made a brief account of the problems and proposed that we'd rather come to an agreement because going to court wouldn't be good for anyone. She stressed that the works that Nezio started were still far from finished and the we had already paid him x Euros so far... "Period!" 

- "Period? Whad do you mean... Period???", Nezio immediately intervened. Steam was blowing out of his ears and nose. 

- "Yes, you heard. Period", Sabrina repeated. "Let's take the entrance lane, for example. You charged my clients a whopping €5.000 for turning it into a decent road. Look at it. Do you think that it looks decent?", she asked, pointing at something that rather looked like a tractor trail through a field. 

- "It was decent when I left!", he shouted, "It's because of all the trucks and machines that came afterwards that the road is now in such a bad way!"

- "So, do you say that your concrete and materials arrived by aeroplane?", Christine wittingly asked. Nezio grunted furiously.

- "It is obvious that this road was not built properly", Sabrina went on, "and if necessary we'll have a court expert examine it. Would you agree to that?"

Nezio didn't say a word. 

- "Right then, let's talk about the water problem", Sabrina said. Nezio shouted that he had carried out the drainage works correctly and that it was the fault of everyone who had continued after him that the drainage didn't work properly anymore.

- "They've damaged my tube!", he shouted.

- "Even if that's true, are you saying that they also raised the level at which you've laid the tube by half a metre?", Alberto intervened, "We've made a hole behind the house and found that tube of yours... only a foot deep, without protecting cloth, decent foundation or a sufficient layer of pebbles on top." 

Nezio was about to burst. His head turned all purple. In rage he steamed to the back of our house, followed by Alberto. We couldn't hear anymore what they were saying but Nezio was shouting in the sort of frenzy of a madman. In the mean time Danilo and his sollicitor were standing a bit apart and were whispering to eachother. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but I did hear one sentence the solicitor said about Sabrina:

- "She's right, you know."

When everyone had calmed down again, Sabrina made her final offer to Nezio. 

- "Or you agree that my clients have paid enough and we leave it at that, or we go to court. But be advised that if we go to court, an expert appointed by the court will investigate the works carried out with a miroscope. Every inch of concrete, every stone you laid... and will compare this to the figures in your calculation. You do understand this, don't you?"

- "Your clients agreed to the price proposed by my client", the other solicitor said.

- "You know very well that this was only an estimate", Sabrina replied, "and that these prices should always agree with those laid out by the Chamber of Commerce. It is the duty of the Director of Works (meaning: Danilo) to verify that these prices are in agreement with the legally established ones and to defend his clients against the contractor if they're not!" 

Danilo didn't move an inch.

"So, Nezio, do you still want to go to court?", she repeated her question.

Nezio hesitated a second. His whole body trembled and he stared at the ground.

"Yes", he stuttered, "let's go to court then."

"Allright. It's your call. And remember that we'll then also have to send a convocation to the Director of Works because he didn't properly supervise the works, as is his task, and that he is also responsible for the damages."

Danilo was still sitting on that rock, behind Sabrina's back. He looked at her with his evil eyes and smiled in a very vile way when she said this. As if he accepted the invitation. "You go ahead... Let's see if you dare..."

Sabrina on the other hand only just got started. She then mentioned other damages, like not being able to open our B&B.

- "Thanks to you, my clients already suffered a year's delay for the opening of their B&B (the contract stipulated that Nezio had to be already finished by December 2009!). If you pursue this courtcase there will be a lot more delay involved and of course we'll ask the reimbursement of these damages!"

I hadn't thought of that, but a quick calculation told me that we'd be talking about tens of thousands of Euros in damages! 

The meeting ended in a stalemate. Nezio would go to court and Danilo would hold on to his courtcase (which is due to have a first session next month). Although we're dead certain that their solicitor is getting more and more reluctant to take this road. Alberto showed him the damages to our house and they're pretty impressive indeed. At places the plastering is coming off and algae are beginning to show. Also parts of the floor in the corridor is covered in patches of chalk. Didn't Nezio say that water didn't get through the floor or something? And didn't we already mention the detrimental effect of water in the floor to the efficiency of our floor heating? The solicitor didn't say a lot anymore indeed. But we realise all too well that Nezio and Danilo are way too stubborn to give up their claims. Nezio because he's too stupid and Danilo because he's too confident. About this self-confidence, just to show you; when they left, Danilo had the bloody nerve to shake our solicitor's hand and to tell her "You've said that very well".
How about that???

So, there we are. In fact, we're almost hoping that they'd go to court because we are now confident that we're having a very strong case. Much stronger than we had ever imagined. We've found an excellent solicitor who'll do everything in her power to defend us. And a very good expert who easily overthrew all of Nezio's claims about a job well done.

To be continued...

  

A welcome guest

For about a week or so, we've got a new guest. No, not in our house, but in our garden. It's... a nightingale! And he doesn't just sing in the evening or at night, oh no, even during broad daylight he bursts out in a wonderful song for Christine and I to enjoy. Or to repel his neighbour which we can hear a bit further in the woods. Yes, there are at least two of them around! Yesterday morning we heard him quite near and we went looking for him. And there he was... hopping about in the lower bushes whilst whisteling and squeeking as loudly as he could.

In the evening I tried to make a recording from our study. Unfortunately he was a bit further away so I had to filter and boost the recorded audio file a lot. So don't think that you can hear aeroplanes all of the time in the background... it's the unfortunate effect of having filtered as much of the noise away as I could. But in the end his voice sounds very clearly on the recording so you'll have an idea of what we can enjoy nearly all day and all night long! :-)

http://dl.dropbox.com/u/24841015/Nightingale281.mp3

The website is on-line!!!

At last... I did it!!! The website for Christine's B&B is finished an on-line. Please feel free to visit it and I truly hope that you would pass the link on to as many people as you can... highly appreciated! (and comments would also be more than welcome of course...)

http://www.bb-lastella.it/

Ladies and Gentlemen, the Observatory is finished!

I did it!!! My little observatory is finished and it fills me with a lot of pride. It's one of the few things that I started and also finished. I'm always so full of ideas but usually get bored halfway through and abandon the project. But the call of the stars must truly be so strong that it pulled me through the hardest bits. On the other hand, once I get started with something that I like, I don't feel any fatigue anymore and if it didn't get dark in the evening I could have continued working on my shed until I'd fall asleep on the ground, without eating or thinking about anything else. "Very few but incredibly strong passions", they say about people with autism and this must really be true because it's all me. Well, I hope you like the result and that one day I can show you the beauty of the heavens because most people have forgotten about that and only rarely look up anymore. Of course we have to blame streetlighting for that as well because there are hardly any places left where this beauty can still be admired in its true splendour. Streetlights... the most useless invention of man if you ask me because coontrary to what many people believe it makes the streets LESS safe for traffic or against burglars, while consuming billions of € on electricity every year. How about that for CO² emissions!You don't believe me? Here are a couple of pictures to prove it! Below is a picture of totally dark crossroads. See how easily you notice that a car is approaching from the right...

Or how easily you notice a pedestrian (wearing a reflective vest)...

Compare this to illumlinated crossroads. Do you still notice the car coming from the left that easily?

And what about burglars? Streetlights provide them with just enough light to do their business without having to use a torch, but also offer them enough shadow where they can hide. The following picture was our backdoor in Belgium, illuminated by a one of these bloody halogen streetlights... When a burglar needs to use a torch in total darkness, I don't know, but according to me he would stick out like a sore thumb, wouldn't you agree?

Anyway, enough about that. I know that I can go on and on about certain things up to the point that everyone finds me bloody irritable. So at last, here are the pictures of my new observatory... :-)

The Carù National Observatory - Progress Report

The last couple of weeks have been blessed with excellent weather... 28°C in the shade... a golden sunshine... Ah, it's summer!!! :-D This meant that after my sister-in-law and her family had left I didn't have any excuse anymore to delay the construction of my little observatory-house.

First I made a structure of wooden girders. It was quite a daunting thing to do as there was quite a bit of wind at the time - unusual over here - and the top of the house is 3,5m above the ground. Moreover, I had to do it completely on my own. But I kept repeating to myself that "there's nothing a man can't do" and in the end I succeeded. And before I get any complaints from the ladies, yes... perhaps there are things a man can't do. But when you're 3m up a ladder, balancing against the gusts of wind and trying to hold these heavy girders whilst bolting them together, you need to say something like that to yourself in order not to wet your pants. :-D

Here the structure was nearly finished:

And then I started with the roof. The sky was still a bit threatening with rain the first couple of days and therefore I didn't want to take any risks with the wood I had just bought. With the roof finished I could safely store all of my stuff.

But in the end it only rained a couple of drops and the sky quicky cleared. I then started laying the brownish roofing tiles...

And here's the finished roof. I'm quite proud of it actually! :-) 

At the time of writing all the walls are already finished and all I still have to do is putting the doors in place, but I haven't taken any pictures yet over the last two or three days so you'll still have to wait a bit to see the final result. I've also already painted everything with a second layer of a special, whitish wood protector (a first layer had already been done by the factory where I bought the wood), so I'm ok for the next 5 years or so. In the mean time, Christine has also already decided on the climbing rose she'll put against the little house. For the experts, it'll be a "Kifts Gate" rambler which is a really wild rose that'll cover the entire house in no time. That being said, Christine was full of admiration for my work and if she says that, it has to be true... :-) 

The booking office is now open!

Again, I'm so sorry that I'm not regularly updating this blog at the moment. Not only are we so busy with finishing or house, but on top of that my computer's crashed and I can't find my Vista DVD anywhere... (it must still be in one of the cardboard boxes from the move, but where???...) I currently have to revert to my laptop which doesn't contain all of the pictures but it's better than nothing. So, here we are... Christine's B&B is ready for you!!! :-) Please, let it be known to everyone who's looking for a break from the everyday rush. In the Italian mountains there's a lovely B&B where you can relax in the middle of nature and, of course, with an excellent service! :-D Unfortunately, the website isn't on-line yet (stupid pc... grunt...) but here are already two pictures to show you what we have on offer...

There's just one room, specifically targeted at couples or two friends who want to get away from it all and therefore you will enjoy our full attention and the house is all yours. BTW, in the latter case we provide two single beds... ;-) 

I don't think I have to show you any more pictures of the view from our domain because this blog is already full of those. But ok, here's one more...

More cupcakes!!!

And what were the girls up to when Patrick and i were doing our "macho" stuff, you might ask? Well, Christine taught them how to make cupcakes with a creamy heart and coloured sugar-icing on top including lots of figures also all hand-made out of sugar. You can tell they enjoyed it, can't you?...

Here's the result of a whole afternoon's work. I can assure you that they tasted deliciously, especially after the mountain hike Patrick and I had done... :-) Although it was kind of a pity having to eat them, wouldn't you agree?

The Pradarena Adventure revisited!

Patrick, my brother-in-law, has a rather adventurous nature. And even though he thoroughly enjoyed staying at our house and just being in the middle of nature and its overwhelming silence, he was looking forward to a bit of a challenge after a couple of days. So I proposed that we'd drive all the way up the Pradarena pass and see how high we could get from thereon. The ladies were terribly busy doing "ladies' stuff" (of which I will report more later on) so there was nothing that could stop us. We jumped into his car and drove off, hungry for the ultimate thrill.

The road towards the pass was perfectly clear and the sun was shining as brightly as always so we didn't encounter any real problems getting up there. But the higher we got, the more we couldn't stop noticing the enormous pile of snow on either side of the road. Like white, concrete walls that became at times higher than the car itself. Perhaps they provided the ideal surface for a fanatic skier, but as we hadn't brought any skis with us, or not even a pair of snow shoes, the thrill suddenly appeared a bit bigger than we had anticipated. There, high above us, I saw the "Monte dell'Asino" ("the Donkey's mountain") where I had hoped we could climb onto, like I already did last September. But with this enormous pile of snow, this began to appear impossible. Anyway, we're two strong lads and not easily intimidated. We would at least give it our best shot!

Once we arrived on top of the pass, we saw a group of other adventurers like us. But at least, they had been smart enough to bring their snow shoes with them and they easily marched off into the woods that lead in the direction of the mountain top. We were just standing there with ordinary hiking shoes. Hmmm... let's give it a try anyway. We've driven all this way up here, it would be a pity not at least having tried.

Surprisingly, the snow was that thick that it supported us quite well. Every now and then we sank into it up to our knees, but on average we managed quite well to walk on it. There, in the far distance, two hundred metres higher than where we were standing, we could see the top. We just had to do it! The trees suddenly stopped and we were all alone from thereon, with just this big white carpet stretching out in front of and above us. It was heavy work because ploughing through the snow is still something else than just walking uphill. Then again, it wasn't too hard either because the snow provided us with solid steps to climb on. Halfway between the tree line and the top we arrived at the weird pile of stones (see previous Pradarena post) and we took a brief rest. Already there we felt like being the kings of the world and although the sky was a bit less transparent than last time I was here, the view was still spectacular. And you could hear... absolutely nothing. Not a bird, not the slightest breeze... absolute silence.

After five minutes or so we continued. We could see the top and we were going to make it. We just had to. Still fifty metres left to climb... forty... thirty... We rushed forward, powered by adrenaline and the promise of the ultimate sensation that lay ahead. So close you could almost grasp it. And finally... we got there. You can see how proud we were, can't you?

The amazing panorama immediately took our breath away. Click on the following link for a 360° view, from northeast to northeast...

https://dl-web.dropbox.com/get/Pradarena/Panorama%20%28small%29.jpg?w=b4e4a516

Unfortunately, the wind was freezing up there, so we didn't stand there for long. A pity we hadn't brought any big plastic bags or something to slide all the way downhill. We had already done this in our field and it was great fun. But this would have been one hell of a ride! :-) Anyway, we leapt and stumbled down through the snow as if we were still kids. Boys will be boys or something... Well, at least we felt pretty much alive. Yes, you only live once and that day we truly took everything out of it that we could.

One last picture before we would disappear into the trees again...

Mr. Apennines

These days teaching English isn't going well for me anymore. It's rolling like a train! After the first school there soon followed a second one, where I now go to every Saturday morning to teach for four hours. And I've also already given two hours of "trial" lessons at a third school. The teacher there said she would also be very happy to have me to assist her, but I'm afraid that this school doesn't have the budget for this school year. Perhaps next year then? And two days ago I was contacted by school number four. This school (in the town of Ramiseto) in fact falls under the same management as the first secondary school where I now teach (in the town of Busana). It was the original intention that I would teach at both of these schools for a total of sixteen hours for the rest of the school year. But then I got the unfortunate message that the Ramiseto school had already found someone else in the mean time and so the sixteen hours were split between me and the other English mothertongue teacher. However, the real (Italian) English teacher of the Ramiseto school has now contacted me in a kind of panic. It seems that the English lady who signed up for the 8 hours there, suddenly doesn't want to come anymore and she begged me if I could take over in stead. Which I obviously gladly accepted. I found it a bit shocking that when you've not only given your word to a school, but when you've also signed a contract, a so-called "teacher" says after only one or two hours that she's not interested anymore. Not only is she letting the school down, but more importantly the kids who are so eager to learn because they realise all too well how important English has become. A real shame, that is, but on the other hand it's all the better for me.

The Italian teachers already told me how difficult it is to find an English mothertongue teacher because most of the English are either not interested or give up after a brief period. On the other hand I can understand this because teaching has to be in your blood. It's not without reason that so many teachers get a burn-out after ten or twenty years. It's very energy-consuming and at times it can be frustrating as well. But in the end, when you've managed to get something across and you feel the appreciation of the children (sometimes even with applause!), it's ever so rewarding. Yes, to my own surprise, teaching must truly be in my blood. Then again it's not so big a surprise because when I was a teenager I already taught Astronomy to younger children at the Urania observatory in Hove, near Antwerp. I really loved it back then, and today I love it just as much.

I also try to make my lessons a bit funny and to include as much interaction as possible. After all, the most difficult bit is to get the children to speak so I try to "force" them a bit. Either with the aid of games like "who am I", word riddles, bingo etc, or role plays. Lately I made a whole Powerpoint presentation about airports, from check-in to boarding and everything in between. At the end, I invited one student to be e.g. the check-in lady whereas another student had to play the passenger wanting to go to Chicago. In order to spice things up a bit, I joined the passenger queue, holding a big student's desk. I explained - and very nicely too - that I wanted to go to Chicago as well with my precious table. The check-in lady then had to try to explain that it was too big and too heavy and that I had to pay an overweight fine. Which was obviously a very unpleasant message for me so I insisted she'd call the manager. And so on... Or when we played the security screening, I suddenly became John Wayne with his gùùùn (trying to imitate a heavy cowboy's accent). And I just walked through the beeping security monitor without a care in the world. "Oh... this gùùùn? That's only for shooting pigeons. It's completely harmless..." :-)

Only the "crown jewel" is still missing on my list of schools and that is the higher secondary school of Castelnovo ne' Monti, where all the kids of the whole region go to as from the age of 15. I already had a chat with the (very friendly) Headmaster who was so sorry to inform me that she had already found someone for this school year. Indeed, just before Christmas the original teacher suddenly left for England (there you are...) but they had immediately contacted the local ministry of education in the city of Reggio Nell'Emilia and they had already found someone for them. Nevertheless the Headmaster kept repeating that I had done a very good thing by presenting myself and she definitely gave the impression that she was most interested. Perhaps for next year? A nice thing she told me was that she's a close friend of the Busana English teacher, who will undoubtedly tell her about my exploits and make some very good publicity. In the mean time I can also already present a very nice CV with references from three different schools and, of course, my TEFL licence. I WILL add that school to my list as well. It's only a question of time... hehehe... :-D

Our first visitors!

Phew! What a couple of weeks these have been! My sister-in-law and her family, including two wild girls of 11 and 14, came to visit us and the B&B part of our house was still far from finished. Actually, it was still closer to "derilict" than to "habitable". Only a concrete floor, dust and dirt everywhere, no doors, no bathroom, scattered cardboard boxes and other stuff of which we didn't know where else to put it...

So when they announced they would like to visit us, we kind of went into overdrive. I need a bit of pressure in order to get going, but this was close to madness. In a matter of weeks we had to decide about which wooden floor to put on the first floor, whether we were going to use the same tiles for the guests as in our bathroom, which bed we would order for the guests, which doors we would choose, find nice second-hand wardrobes we could restore and to do all of the actual work. In the end, we didn't really make it. The doors couldn't be ready in time (in spite of big promises), the flooring company hadn't ordered enough wood and Dopey Dwarf, the magic plummer, had made a total cock-up of the guests' bathroom. Some of the plumming had been put too deep into the wall, making it extremely difficult to connect e.g. te tap for the sink. Or the two exits on which I had to connect the shower tap were too far apart by almost a quarter inch. In the end, we hired some help with placing the tiles because we couldn't manage ourselves anymore. By the previous Sunday, when our family arrived, Christine and I were both knackered. Exhausted to the point of collapse. Fortunately Cosetta, our Italian mum, lent us a hand with the enormous cleaning job. Christine had also had to finish the plasterwork on the stairs which had created a mess you wouldn't believe. Even Thomas was surprised about it! :-)

But in the end she's done a cracking good job. I'd dare challenge all professional plasterers to do it just as well.

When my sister-in-law and her family arrived and saw our guest room, they were speechless. Even though there still weren't any doors and the toilet still has to be glued to the floor. No, not bolted because otherwise we'd probably pierce through the floor heating tubes! ;-) So it would just be a question of sitting on it very carefully. Hehehe... I'll post some pictures of the result later. Let me just conclude that they had a wonderful holiday here in Italy and that we all throughly enjoyed the warm sunshine during the outdoor lunches...

And a last picture of the two sisters...

Courtcase number 3!!!

We're going for the record!!! :-D 9 months in Italy and I'm already involved in 3 courtcases! I dare anyone to do better, hehehe!

It was to be expected that Nasty Little Nezio would go sulking and moaning with his sollicitor, not coincidentally Big bad Danilo's little nephew. This courtcase isn't cast in stone yet. For the moment his sollicitor has only sent us a very polite registered letter, asking us to pay our good friend Nezio 37.000€ plus 200€ for "sollicitor's intervention". Failure to do so within two weeks will result in further legal action. This figure is, of course, vastly exaggerated and is based on Nezio's calculation, totally neglecting the fact that Nezio can't count. If you subtract the things he counted twice or the works he had planned to do but hasn't carried out, the total is already down by a third.

Unfortunately for Nezio, I don't think he has already informed his sollicitor about the "slight" water problem we're having. It's only a minor detail, I know, but nevertheless I think that his sollicitor would like to know about it. So our sollicitor will take the burden off Nezio and inform him herself with a very kind reply letter. She will also include the expert's report that will soon be finished. The expert eventually found the drainage tube, just put in the ground like that without any cloth to keep the holes in the tube from being covered in dirt. The tube was also laid at a measured depth of... 30cm, whereas our foundations go down as much as 70-80cm. And this measurement was carried out somewhere half way. Since this tube is supposed to be laid in a slope, we can only guess what the depth at the beginning would be. According to the expert there is no doubt where the water in our walls originates from. The problem now is that since we had a wall constructed behind our house to stop the hill from crumbling down, there is no more room for a crane or bobcat to make excavations behind the house. Whoever is going to repair the damages will probably have to dig by hand. Through thick clay and rock.

But I haven't told you the best bit yet. A couple of days ago, we received a visit from the local stone cutter. He's a very friendly man but he had a very delicate message. He had already been asking our good friend Nezio about the money the latter owed him for the external window sills on our house (which had already been installed in autumn 2009). And do you know what Nezio told him?

- "They refuse to pay me so if you want your money you'll have to ask them!"

So that's why the poor stone cutter came to visit us. We explained that we indeed had paid Nezio. We've paid him about 3/4 of the total amount due and we've certainly paid him for the works carried out over a year ago. And then we've showed him our internal walls. The man's eyes opened so wide that his eyeballs almost popped out. He immediately understood what a nasty trick Nezio had played on him. He also showed us the total amount due. It was about 600€. This gave Christine a shock and when the man had gone, she immediately leapt upstairs to find her notes. In Nezio's estimate, he claims that the materials for the window sills, installation excluded, amounted to almost 1.150€! Nearly twice as much! We had already found a couple of serious discrepancies between Nezio's price for the materials and their real price. But this was obviously a rip off.

So, what are we going to do? We are going to the stone cutter and pay him his 600€. Not only will it make this man very happy, it'll also be another blow to Nezio because we can then subtract another 1.150€ from his bill. "Ah... of course, because we've already paid for the window sills! You asked the stone cutter to send his bill to us, didn't you?"

Oh... I'm really beginning to enjoy this! :-D

The Carù National Observatory

Hahahahaaa... Spring is in the air, the sun is shining brightly, the birds are singing... My whole body is awakening and above all, the part that wants to... construct something! And let us hope, without cutting in my hands this time... So, what could I make? A whopping 25" telescope? Ai... Christine throws the frying pan at my head and only misses me by a hair. OK, I cancel the telescope... for now... But what else could I do then? I've already finished the henhouse. The porch next to our house perhaps? Forbidden because Christine says that needs to be done "professionally", and she's probably right. What could I do... what could I do... my hands are itching...
- "Hey! Where are you going to?", Christine shouts at me.
- "I'm going to construct an observatory!"
- "But... an observatory??? And where exactly???"
- "Right there!", I say with a lot of pride in my voice, pointing at the top of the crest in our field.
- "There???", she responds in horror, "Straight in the middle of the view from our terrace??? No, it can't be true!"
- "But where do I have to make it then?"
- "A lot further away from our house! A lot!"
There's nothing more to do. Whatever Christine says is law. I walk about twenty yards further into the field.
- "Here?"
- "No! Still way too close!"
- "But... if I go even further, I'll be in that wood over there!"
- "That's fine with me!"
At this point there is a slight argument which I won't mention here because it is not intended for the faint-hearted. And because we're still "Belgians" (for the moment still), we make a compromise that is no good for noone but which assures a kind of armed peace. I can construct my observatory where I'm standing, and she can put a large tree in front of our house. You can imagine that I have always violently resisted this tree when I still wanted to observe the heavens from in front of our house. But since I can soon look at the stars from my observatory in the field, this tree doesn't matter at all to me anymore.
- "And you can put a nice climbing rose against my observatory. That way it'll not disturb the view as much."
Ah... I'm so brilliant, aren't I? I know exactly how to move my dear wife in the right direction.
- "OK... allright...", she says with a bit of doubt, "but first I want to know how much it will cost."
So, I start making a plan so I can give her an estimate:

On this page you can see the front of the observatory/shed, with a big double door 1,6m wide and 2,3m high. Big enough for my future 25" Obsession telescope. But Christine doesn't know that yet... :-)

In order to lower the cost even further, I've already begun to make a foundation which will cost us nothing at all. After the restoration of our house there was still some cement and sand left and in our field there was an entire pile of old terracotta tiles which we can't use anymore in the house itself. But they'll make an excellent observing terrace. I would have preferred to make it in wood, like teak or bankirai, because wood doen't absorb the heat as much and will create less turbulences inside the telescope. But this owuld cost us a fortune and above all, I'm having serious doubts about the origin of tropical wood.
So I started putting a layer or two of tiles to stabilise the ground a bit:

Then, I made the final layer on a dry mixture of sand and cement:

This is where I am at the moment:

Oh... I just can't wait to put my telescope there... :-)

Next week I hope to be able to get started on the shed itself but it's going to be bad weather for the next couple of days. Soooo frustrating...

We've won the first battle of the war!

"When will I get my money?"

It's last Thursday evening. Christine and I were enjoying a DVD, when all of a sudden Christine's mobile bleeped, indicating that she had received an SMS. Oh dear, Nasty Little Nezio was after his money again. Hadn't he warned us that if he hadn't been paid by the end of December, he'd take "further steps"? Well, if "further steps" means sending us an angry SMS every once and a while... that's ok with us. :-D We're actually beginning to find it amusing. At first Christine thought it wise not to respond. But then she changed her mind and wrote:

"When you'll finally reply to our sollicitor's letter."

By doing so, she thought she could kill two birds with a single stone. One, to shut him up for good, and two, to have him put something on paper we could use against him. Ah... isn't she a genius?

"So... is this how you want to play it? I thought that Danilo and I had come to visit you in order to work something out!", he still replied.

But we left it at that. The DVD was far too exciting and his text message was only a bad joke. It hardly brought a grin to our face. "Work something out"... huh! Did he really mean that? He's even more daft than we imagined. And that was already very high on the fruitcake-scale! Besides, our funny friend Nezio still hasn't got a clue about what else we have in store for him. Our sollicitor had already contacted an expert to come to our house and have a look at the damages. About time too because the water problem is getting worse. The man was shocked by what he saw and didn't leave a shred of doubt that it is caused by bad or non-existent drainage.

"I'll come back within a couple of days with my wife, who also is a geometer, to take some pictures", he said and advised us: "Don't pay a single penny to anyone for now!"

Something which we weren't going to do anyway, so we liked his advice very much. He also asked us to make a hole behind the house so he and his wife could see actually how deep this so-called drainage was laid. I was about half a metre down when I found this:

You can see that I arrived at the gravel with which the "drainage" is covered. And with the gravel I found something which can rightly be called an underground lake. The more I removed the gravel by hand, the more standing water I found. Obviously this is the ground water level and when this level rises during moist days, it enters our foundations. When we've had a dry period such as the past two weeks, the level drops and our internal walls dry up again. Obviously, the "drainage" doesn't work at all! We have this Nasty Little... and Big Bad Danilo by the $ù=#(µ!!! The way things are looking now, it seems to become more likely that Danilo and co will have to pay us a lot more in damages than what they are still claiming from us.

When our sollicitor came to visit us with the expert, she even had more good news for us. The Rovigo judge has concurred with our argument that he isn't competent in this case and that it should be transferred to the court at the buyer's residence. He'll make his final verdict on... THE 12th OF DECEMBER!!! Well, err... if you must... :-D It's that 80-year old animal-mistreating bitch that's after her money, not us. We can wait... and wait... and wait... And so can little Flora! :-D

Back to school

This must be the first of September, the day that in Belgium the schools reopen after the summer holidays. The sun is shining brightly in the deep blue sky, but it's a bit chillier so this must be autumn indeed. I put my school books in my bag, together with a new pen and a new notebook, give Christine a last hug, and off I go. Back to school...

I arrive at ten 'o clock, perfectly on time (yes, today there are special hours...) and one of the assistents immediately directs me to my new class, being the third grade of the "scuola media". That's a bit disappointing because I had hoped to still have a bit of time to adjust myself to my new life at school, but unfortunately I wasn't granted any respite. I was pushed into the lion's den right away. The worst thing of it all was that this time I wouldn't have to sit in class, where I could blend very well into the background. No, this time I'd have to stand in front of it! And from personal experience I know very well what a handful 14 year-old kids can be. Then again, they say that poachers make the best game keepers so if that were true I should be more than allright. :-D Mara was already standing there too and she immediately pointed at the centre of the stage, meaning that I should do the main act this morning. That's what I was already afraid of, but I didn't have any choice. Twenty pairs of eyes were staring at me with big interest (perhaps the kind of interest cats display when they're looking at little birds?). I took a big sigh...

- "Goodmorning! I'm Peter!"

- "Goodmorning Peter!", all the kids shouted back at me most enthusiastically. Hmmm... that already went well, didn't it?...

I briefly introduced myself and then asked all of the children to introduce themselves too. I added some extra questions like "Have yo got any brothers or sisters?" or "What are your hobbies?" so that nobody would get away as easily as to just state their name. Then the tables were turned and the students were allowed to ask me as many questions as they liked. To my surprise I was quickly getting the hang of things and it felt again like more than twenty years ago when I was teaching Astronomy to children of about the same age. I truly enjoyed standing there in front of the class. Perhaps it was partly because of my urge for attention, something my disability often provokes and usually to my detriment. But mostly I felt glad that I could do something for those children. To help them and possibly even to give them a brighter future because obviously a decent knowledge of English will become ever more important. It's such a rewarding experience... Perhaps I also have to admit that due to my disability, deep inside, I have always remained a bit of a child, which in this case would be an advantage. It makes it easier to relate to the children, and vice versa. Yes, I truly felt that they considered me as "one of their own" in stead of "one of the teachers". The hour flew past and in the end the children all stood up and gave me a warm applause. I humbly bowed at such a token of appreciation. I felt deeply moved...

In this class there were a couple of children who were a bit behind of the rest. Some of them because they're a bit slower and need an extra bit of attention; but one had only just arrived from Macedonia and one even from Brazil. The Brazilian boy came to Mara and me in order to ask if I wouldn't give him a couple of private lessons because he was so eager to learn. I discussed this with him, Mara and another teacher who's responsible for looking after the kids who need the extra attention and I said that if there would be four or five children interested that I could do this for only a few Euros per lesson each. To me it doesn't matter if I have to spend the hour in front of two or five children, and five still isn't too much so that not everyone would get the personal attention required. All we still need to look into is a venue because Busana is more than a half an hour's drive. Perhaps if we could find something half-way we could go ahead with the idea.

Mara and I were about to say goodbye when I looked into the classroom of the second grade. All of the children were looking at me through the open door and making gestures like thumbs up and funny waves. I asked Mara if she didn't want me to briefly say "hello" to those children as well. And she immediately replied that it would be a wonderful idea. So there I went again. I immediately noticed that the class of the second grade was a lot more "lively" than the third, where most students were a bit shy. Not in this class! There were three or four real rascals here, but the "nice" kind though. :-)

- "If you could already introduce yourself", Mara suddenly told me, "then I can pop out for five minutes or so because I have to do something urgent."

- "Huh???"

There I was... all alone at the mercy of these children. After five minutes she indeed returned, briefly, just to see that I was doing allright and then leaving me alone for the rest of the hour! Well, there was absolutely nothing to be worried about. I introduced myself and they did the same. Then they started asking me questions. Lots of questions. Whether I liked "womans". I corrected the smartass and wrote "women" on the blackboard, stressing its correct pronunciation. I asked the entire class to repeat and they happily did. "Women" rolled like a thunder throughout the school building! I replied that I liked one "woman" in particular and again they enthusiastically repeated me. Then I threw the ball back at the smartass and asked him whether he liked women.

- "Yes!", he said, "Pamela Anderson!" :-D

- "But... she's old!", I replied, "she's even older than I am!" And then I mimed what happens when you've had a facelift and you're having trouble laughing. The kids thought it was hilarious. Obviously I wasn't going to demonstrate what else dear Pamela had already had lifted... :-D

Throughout the question session I also got to explain the expression "used to". Which turned out to be most helpful during the rest of the class because when someone asked me whether I liked Michael Jackson, I could explain that he used to be a singer. But not anymore. Because he's... dead (making cut-throat gesture). Obviously none of the kids were going to admit that they ever used to play with dolls or teddybears, although one of them was ready to admit that he used to play with Lego stones. "But not now!!!", he immediately added, "I'm playing with a Playstation now!" Well, they thought it was funny to hear me confess that I used to play with Lego as well...

Again the hour was over when I though it had only just started. The kids applauded even louder, if at all possible, than those of the third grade and they were begging me to stay. Mara came in and explained that this would not be possible. She had asked the head master for a few hours for the second class also, but the budget wouldn't allow it. After all, it's only a small school. I proposed that I would do the second class for free then. After all, what's most important for me is to give something back to the community, for as much as I can. This experience was so rewarding that I truly wouldn't mind doing it for free. And if I could do it on the same day as my lessons for the third grade, so much the better. Mara promised she'd take my offer back to the head master and let me know. Although she added that it may create a legal problem because normally, as a "third person", there are strict conditions before someone can stand in front of a class. But about twenty minutes later she already called me to say that the head master had agreed and that he wanted to thank me for my generosity. Well... How about that?... Again, I felt so deeply moved.

So that's it. I'm going to be an assistant English teacher at the Busana school and next year my hours will probably be doubled. But that's not all. In the evening I got a call from Cosetta's aunt, who used to be an English teacher but who's now slowly retiring. Whether I wouldn't be interested to take a similar position in a school in Casina. Of course I would! Five minutes later the head master of the Casina school called me to offer me a twenty hour contract! The nice thing is that it would be four hours for five saturdays in a row, saving me a lot of driving over and back. Tomorrow I'll be going to Casina to meet the head master and to discuss the details.

Slowly things are moving, aren't they? Oh... I'm so happy... :-)

Teaching English - Part 2

You'll remember that half-December I received a phonecall from an English teacher of a local secondary school, offering me a part-time job? Well, from thereon I hadn't heard a peep anymore. Slowly I began to wonder whether it had all been merely a dream and I was getting a bit disappointed. I had been looking forward to this opportunity so much... Anyway, I wasn't going to give up that easily and last week I drove to that school in person in order to find out if the offer was real and if it was still standing.

The school is situated in the lovely little town of Busana. In direct it's only a couple of miles from our house. But unfortunately there isn't any direct road and in all it took me over half an hour in order to get there. That's because I have to cross the Secchia valley and there are only two bridges nearby, both of which take me to a totally different direction. But the sun was shining brilliantly again (actually, today we've got 25° in the sun!) and the road is just stunningly beautiful. When you're used to the nice, straight roads of the Flemish countryside, these winding mountain trails may come as a little shock. At first they seem tedious and nerve-wrecking. But as soon as you discover the beauty of the landscape you're cruising through, it becomes a totally different story and half an hour seems to go by in a whizz. The school is a reasonably modern building in red brick and all seemed perfectly quiet. I parked the car and walked to the entrance, where a man kindly greeted me. I explained who I was and asked if the job offer was still standing. The man turned out to be the head master and he told me that only Mara, the English teacher who had phoned me, would be able to tell me. He confirmed that there was indeed a project going on where they would ask a native English speaker to assist in class for a 16-hour contract, divided between this school and their subsidiary in Ramiseto. He gave me Mara's phone number and urged me to give her a call the following day, as she wasn't present at school at the time.

And so I did. Mara turned out to be the same enthusiastic person I spoke to over a month ago and I stressed how much I would love to take the job. But... there had been an unfortunate coincidence. Her Ramiseto colleague had already offered the job to another English speaker, without having informed her. But on the bright side, she would try to divide the offer between the two, so I'd get 8 hours in Busana and the other person 8 hours in Ramiseto. It only seemed fair that way. She also asked me to drop by at her house to discuss the matter in greater detail.

When I arrived, Mara was already waving at me from the door. She greeted me like if I was a king and kindly invited me in. She asked me about my past and about our decision to come and live in Italy. From her side, she told me that she had graduated from University twenty years ago and confessed that her English had suffered a lot since then because she hadn't had any serious conversations in this language anymore. As a student she still regularly visited London. But after that she had always remained in Italy. She also confessed that with the children in class you could still easily get away with an error but she realised that this was not the proper thing to do. I was very impressed about that because at least she admitted that she had a problem and was prepared to do something about it. Much unlike the teacher of the boy I'm still giving private courses to who insists that you have to pronounce "key" as "kay" and when asked "How are you?" you should just reply "Fine" and that "I'm fine, thank you" is actually wrong! Mara also told me that since my visit to the school the teachers are constantly talking about me and they would be so happy if I were to take the job! :-) So the first impression I made must have been quite positive. I also explained some of the ideas I had about teaching the children, with the aid of games such as trivia, "who am I?", snakes and ladders, role-playing games etc. and Mara was thrilled about this idea. In the end, she asked if I wouldn't be interested in giving a small refresher course to her and anoter colleague of her, which I gladly accepted.

So now the contract is signed. I officially have a job! :-) Oh... there was just one minor misunderstanding... It's not 8 hours a week. It's 8 hours for the rest of the school year, so only one hour a week from the beginning of March onwards. But that's allright. It's a start, isn't it? And most probably I'll get the Ramiseto class as from the next school year as well.

Mara urged me to go and talk to other schools as well, which I did. I already went to Carpineti's secondary school and also there I received a very warm welcome. Especially when I heard the primary school children practise the English alphabet out loud and commented to one of the secretaries how good they were at it. The secretary immediately went upstairs to the children and came back down with a little, black girl by her hand. The girl was obviously shy and held a big plastic bag full of sweets firmly against her chest. Oh... she was so adorable, with her hair tied in all these little tails. I asked her how she was (in English) and she replied with a frail voice: "I'm fine, thank you". Then I asked her about her name and she said, so faintly I could hardly hear it, that her name was Deborah. Then, she offered me the bag. I said (in total amazement) "Oh... is this for me???". She nodded. So when at the same moment the head master asked me to step into her office for a chat, I was still holding the entire bag of sweets. That should've gone down well as a first impression also. :-D In the end, I returned the bag because I wouldn't want to rob these little children of their sweets of course.

One thing's for sure: I'm definitely going to find my way in my new home country. Not that I intend to work full-time again because I've learnt the hard way that this will be impossible for me. But I'm still going to contribute to society as much as I can.

The Italian judicial system

Yesterday was a very big day for us, and more specifically for our little Flora. We were summoned to go all the way to Rovigo, a two and a half hours' drive, because the judge wanted to see me in person. You may recall that the malignant cow who sold us little Flora was a bit upset about me asking (and receiving) my money back through VISA because to me (and also to VISA) it was a clear case of internet fraud. The most important victim of which was a poor little kitten, almost starved to death and with a severe infection on her lungs, nose and eyes. "Well, if half of the truckload of kittens coming from Hungary dies, that's just too bad. As long as enough survive which I can sell for an exuberant price via our fraudulent websites". Yes, you read it right. In the mean time I've discovered no less than four different websites, possibly more, all from the same vendor and all showing the same, heartbreaking pictures and clips of the most adorable pups and kittens. I've decided to name and shame them after all, hoping that this message will spread and that this horrific animal trade will be rooted out. Idle hope, I know, but doing nothing would be even worse, wouldn't it?

http://www.vendita-cuccioli.com/

http://www.venditacaniegatti.com/

http://www.venditacuccioli.com/

http://www.vendita-cuccioli-caniegatti.com/ (now all of a sudden closed)

So as I was saying, Christine and I drove all the way down there, to arrive at the local courthouse. "Courthouse" is in fact a bit exaggerated because it was just the first floor in what rather looked like an appartment building. The only things that betrayed its true nature were the Italian and European flags which were proudly decorating the façade. By the front door we saw Floriano, one of our two sollicitors, making a call on his mobile. We had been a bit surprised that both of them would be present here because also for them it was a long drive. Well, as long as the other party will be paying the bill... :-D Sabrina, our other sollicitor, warmly greeted us when we arrived on the first floor and explained that it was better that they'd also appear in person, rather than to hire a local sollicitor for this session. The judge had after all summoned both parties "in person". Then again, we were in for a little shock. The corridor on the first floor was absolutely packed. Sabrina told us that our case was number 66 in line, whereas they had only just begun case number 34! We had anticipated on a little wait, even though the invitation had carried a specific time. But the way things were going, we would be standing here until nightfall. Oh bother... Sabrina tried to console us by telling that this is mostly what a sollicitor's life in Italy is all about: waiting. By a strange coincidence, the police had chosen the very same morning to present all of the pending fines to the judge. In Italy there's no such thing as a "police judge"; a person who only deals with traffic fines and incidents. All traffic cases are presented to a common civil judge, who in this case happened to be ours. And it goes without saying that all of these fines took presedence over our case. Grumble... The only wicked sort of amusement we got was staring at the faces of the people coming out of the judge's office. Most of them looked as if they'd just done the latrine's job in a major pig stable. Their noses pulled up high and their mouths closed so hard that their lips went all white.

We had been ordered to be there at 11:40, but by 01:00 we were still standing there, together with a whole bunch of other people who still had to present their civil case. The judge, obvioulsy concerned about his lunchbreak, then ordered all the remaining people in at once. It didn't look very good but Sabrina and Floriano assured us that they would press the judge to still hear our case. After all, we had come all the way down here on his orders. Alhough Sabrina wondered how the judge could still be all ears to our story if he had just had a hell of a morning with about 70 traffic cases to do.

The judge's office was, well, like a normal office. It certainly wasn't the sort of court hall that one could expect. Needless to say that when all of the remaining people were in, there was hardly any room left to breathe. The judge put the files of all of the remaining civil cases on a big pile on his desk and started to call all of them, in order to see who was still there. About half of them turned out to have already gone out for lunch! The remaining half were then divided between urgent and not so urgent. Meaning, to be postponed until March or some even until September! "My agenda is totally full", he apologised. Well, if it had to be September also for our case, personally I wouldn't mind. It's that wicked bitch who wanted her money, not me. Although we're still hoping to have all of the veterinary expenses refunded of course.

With those non-urgent cases out of the way, he still had half an hour to deal with all of the rest. "I'll continue until half past and that's it", he said.

So all of us had to go out again and wait for our turn. In the mean time Sabrina had already pointed out the vendor's sollicitor to us. A nasty old, little man; exactly the sort of person who'd make the kinds of remarks that we found in his reply to our defence. But there was another interesting detail: the vendor herself hadn't shown up, even though also she had been summoned. This normally shouldn't go down too well with the judge. I had been looking around to all of the women I saw, wondering who it would be. She certainly wouldn't be very young because setting up the whole animal trade business would take a certain amount of time. And it had to be a person without a heart. I can't imagine any other person doing the things she does for a living without the slightest sense of remorse. In the end I asked Sabrina if she could find the lady's age in the file. And indeed she could. Apparently, the vendor was born in... 1931!!! That bitch was eighty years old!!! Sabrina grinned that she'd probably provided her sollicitor with a medical note so she wouldn't have to appear. I said that perhaps they'd have to wheel her in on a wheelchair. Christine on the other hand wondered how such an old lady could still be running such a big business. Obviously she'd still be in charge on paper but leave the running itself to someone younger, like the nasty man who had delivered our Flora. In any case, even if she'd only be responsible on paper, that's exactly what she is and she'll have to bleed for what she did (and is still doing to other unfortunate animals).

Finally, at 13:25, it was our turn. We all went in apart from Christine. The case was started against me personally so she wasn't allowed to take any part. The judge began by saying that this was a "compromise" meeting. Sabrina immediatly intervened that if this were so, we hadn't been informed about any possible "compromise" by the other party. The judge said that in that case he'd propose fifty-fifty, which neither I nor the nasty sollicitor could accept.

- "If that cat were really half-dead as you claim, then why didn't you inform my client about it?", he said in a very arrogant way.

- "As a matter of fact I did", I replied, "I've tried to contact her for days on end!"

- "That's a lie", he said.

- "No it is not!", I replied and Sabrina added that we have copies of the e-mails to prove it.

The nasty sollicitor went on and started speaking to the judge.

- "That man", pointing at me, "just wanted to buy a cat from my client without paying 5 bloody Lire for it! If he's truly so unhappy, then he should give the cat back."

I was perplexed. How low can anyone go? As if Flora is just a stupid cupboard! A heartless stone which you can chuck away if you grow tired of it! This was indeed the "compromise" he proposed.

- "And what about all the medical expenses then?", Sabrina also mentioned. The other sollicitor didn't care to reply. Sabrina took the conversation back to the heart of the matter we wanted to discuss here. The European consumer's law stipulates that, unless otherwise agreed, any dispute following a purchase should be treated by the court at the buyer's residence.

- "Can you believe that?", the nasty sollicitor intervened, laughing and looking at the judge, "They'd want this case to be treated in Belgium!" He shook his head in mockery.

- "Or in Castelnovo ne' Monti", Sabrina went on without paying any attention to that prat, "the court where our client now resides."

The judge, clearly tired and unmotivated, said that he wouldn't take any decision now and that he'd let us know. He typed the names of the people present in his computer and added a note about our sollicitor's claim about the transfer of competence to either Belgium or Castelnovo. He would let us know as soon as possible. And we were sent out again.

Now we'll have to wait once more. Probably for months, but I don't care. Sabrina said that technically the judge wouldn't have any other choice than to declare himself "incompetent" in this matter and to pass the case on to Castelnovo. This would already be a big blow to the vendor. Sabrina added that she'd then have a word with the Castelnovo judge, apparently a good lady with a heart for animals, and that she'd have high hopes. Although she warned us that the Rovigo judge might still decide to keep the case at his court and that he may summon me again. Perhaps - if he's really stupid - to treat the entire case and at the end declare that he's incompetent after all so the whole thing will have to be done over again by another court. It's like looking at teabags for the moment.

But in any case, I'm not afraid. And above all, NOONE will ever take our Flora away from us. Even if we have to send her temporarily to Flanders or whatever. She's OUR little baby now and we'll never allow anyone to take her away. We love her with all of our hearts and she loves us back at least just as much. Every evening while we're in front of the telly she comes jumping on our laps, rolling about and thoroughly enjoying our caresses and the brushing of her tummy with a special cat brush. Oh yes, she definitely loves her daily beauty treatment! :-) And isn't she a beauty indeed?