On one’s birthday one should eat cake.
One should eat as much cake as one wants.
If this means eating mimosa, chocolate tartufi and rum baba whilst one is given incredulous stares from the other patrons one should not give a shit.
Much to daddy’s horror, B Girl and I have finally found an Italian singer we like. Fabri Fibra (turn up your speakers).
Normally our main objection to Italian bands is that they seem to have bypassed the punk era, they are altogether too clean and predictable. We like Fibra because he’s somewhat dirty.
In the beginning I thought this song was applause for fibre, as in All Bran, a sentiment I’d have to go along with, however fibre in Italian is fibre not fibra. Nonetheless we are loving the video, especially because there are some hot Italian guys in it and girls sporting leg warmers on their arms, (a look I was rocking some three years ago, but hey I’ll forgive them that).
anyway applausi, applausi, applausi per Fibra, Fibra, Fibra, Fibra (and I really mean that).
…to all mums out there. I’m finally starting to appreciate what it means to be a mother and I take my hat to you all.
These little coriander seedlings were my gifts to my mother in-law and nonnas in-law. This is the kind of thing that would make my mum cry, but because she’s too far away to get a seedling I’m growing one especially for her to eat when she arrives in July. Happy mothers day mummy!
(yes alright I admit it I do call my mum mummy)
This was my gift from B Girl via Stef. Isn’t it incredible how they managed to find something that is so perfectly me? What with her being only 10 months old and him being a man, it is truly, truly astonishing.
Yeah right, don’t make me laugh! You so know I had to go choose this myself. (rolls eyes several times)
I’m talking sunburn not tattoo.
Its the start of May and, despite the heat, the beach is still deserted. B Girl and I pretty much had it to ourselves. You wouldn’t believe how much it changes and that’s why I’ve added a new feature in the left hand column. Now you can watch it turn from blissfull haven to Dante’s inferno with me.
p.s. please don’t mention the tattoo to my dad.
Va bene kind of means good and I use it ALOT. However now I stop to think about it there’s a possibility I might be over using it.
For example this is me today:
Would you like a bag?
Can I help you with the pushchair?
and the baby? (I get asked this about 20 times a day)
sorry there are no prawns left.
Would you come to a mass on Sunday if it’s in English? (don’t even ask)
yes, good (truth – no, good)
How are you?
It occurs to me that I’ve become that idiotic foreigner who says please thank you when they just mean please
In the land where cake is king for breakfast (I kid ye not, they do not eat toast and marmite here) a girl has to take drastic measures when dieting.
Hence this random post about sod all. Today is clean my room day, I want you to see the huge pile of clothes that has found it’s way onto my bedroom floor.
…and these are my lovely, lovely basil and coriander seedlings. Stef killed most of them one night when I asked him to water the plants and he gave them about a teaspoon of water. These are the only survivors.
Root (rolls eyes) for them with me…