The Village
Not a place, a film. I saw the Village this evening. Very good. Worth watching. The ultimate reality show? Good question. Watch it and let me know.
A bug
Nope, nothing to do with PC's or even those flying things - this is one of those, or should that be 'some of those' darling little microbes which tend to send hoardes of the population to bed for a few days every year. The little blighters which got me left me feeling downright lousy - so bad, in fact, that I did something I very rarely do - I went to see the doctor. Well, feeling down over Xmas is not great, so attempting to kill the little bug**rs by artifiical means seemed to be justified. There was, and still is, the problem that my voice has been coming and going. This is not got for someone who attempts to eek a living out of teaching. Then there was, still damn well is too, this blasted cough. Much better thanks, now - at least it is not waking me up at four in the morning in an attempt to get me to deposit my lungs all over the floor - which is progress. The sore throat was a nightmare too and made coughing painful. Not good. And the darling little sore throat seems to be creeping back, for some reason. This means that the antibiotics which the Doc gave me have not done the job - so out with the home remedies. Water, honey, lemon and a nice shot of grappa. Even if it does not cure you, it knocks you out enough to ensure that you will get a reasonable night's sleep. Staying up far too late and scribbling a few words in my blog may also aid the sleep thing too, I suppose….hope. Cough, cough.
Merry Christmas
Well, better late than never….. I usually leave everything to either the last minute or just after the last minute and Christmas greetings are no exception. I finally got round to emailing a selection of virtual cards to people on Christmas Eve - about an hour before hopping in a taxi and heading off to the station to catch a train down to Genova. It was 'Nonni Shelley' or the 'Shelley Grandparents' turn to have us for the festive season, next time round, 'Nonni Sabbia' or the 'Sand Grandparents' will have the pleasure. What's with this 'Shelley' and 'Sand' grandparents thing? Well, our talkative little toddler has given his two sets of grandparents labels. The Italian gramps have a dog called Shelley - hence the nickname and the UK gramps allowed Marty to get nice an messy in his own little sandpit - which he had never forgotten. Two year olds seem to have rather good memories, or so it would seem.
Christmas Day was the usual excess of food and stuff and although I quite like the 'Cima' and fresh pasta, I found myself missing the traditional English turkey based Christmas feast this year, for some not altogether clear reason. I actually got a bit sick of the same old Christmas fare year after year back in the UK - which is odd, seeing as Xmas happens but once a year. Must be something to do with the speed at which time passes when you get older or something like that.
Marty got more than enough presents to last him until next Christmas and we still have not decided where we are going to put all of his new toys. He seems to be aware that Christmas is something a little different, but is still a little to young to grasp the concepts of nativities and Santa Claus. The absence of a chimney in our house will mean that we'll have to resort to some clever little story to explain just how FC gets the prezzies into the house. One of the joys of being a parent, I suppose.
Got zilch sleep over Christmas down in Genova - we were all cramped in one room and baby was demanding his mother's attention throughout the night. The sleepless night thing is not one of the best aspects of parenthood and does cast a negative light over the whole 'being a parent' thing for me.
Anyway, to those readers of mine who thoughtfully wrote me a few nice Xmas words and to any others who may happen upon my sporadic little blog. Merry Christmas to one an all of you and best wishes for the new year.
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Photos from Flickr
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