Our House

We've had an offer accepted on a lovely house round the corner from our current (rented) abode. Huzzah!

Thursday 24th August.
An interesting start to the holiday with me nearly missing last good bus to the train station, so I took a taxi and arrived in good time, despite the wonderful "public transport system" of Surrey. Enjoyed the quiet of an empty house, unfortunately I was out in the garden when Dad sent me a text message, and he was a bit irritated that the message hadn't got passed on, after Mum called him to check where he was. I might have had a problem if Dad hadn't been able to put me and Mark on the car insurance via the renewal number (closes at 8), rather than the customer services (which closed at six).

Friday 25th August.
Drove over to Dartford, got blocked off from the right junction once and briefly stopped by an accident, but thanks to that rare breed, a helpful van driver made good time, for the M25. Went to Hall Place with Nan, enjoyed the gardens and didn't get wet, in the evening visited the Forni household, saw Joanne and Charlotte, attempted to wind Charlotte up about the realities of laundry and ironing. Carlos came in later, rather tired, and probably retreated to bed before Abigail returned with her sleepover friend. We left and I got a nice night's sleep after watering Nan's plant pots.

Saturday 26th August.
Woke up early, 5:30 dratted "wake at dawn" biological clock, decided to tag along with Nan to Crayford helped Nan deliver a floral arrangement form the florist to her church, and then had an amble around the shops while Nan had her hair done. Found a bench to sit on to read for a bit, discovered that the thin layer of mud underfoot was more slippery than I had thought and nearly fell over on trying to get up, got mud on my hand, which may have prompted Nan to go to the garden centre. She bought 3 bags of compost and would have bought a pot but discover she didn't have her coupons with her, did and few other jobs for Nan, including hoovering the stairs and getting down the landing lace curtain for cleaning. Had a nice quiet afternoon in with Nan, and then drove back to Camberley, a bit of windscreen battering rain but otherwise an Ok trip back, despite muffing the exit from the M3 slightly, too used to getting off at the other side.

Oooh. Adrian, Emma and Nick are coming to visit. Hurrah!

I can't read my comments boxes at work, but as (somewhat inevitably) the commenters over at Mark Shea's blog have been arguing about evidence for the assumption, he's posted a little more, on that, if anyone's interested.

Mark Shea posts a snippet from his, as yet unpublished I think, book on Mary, and I post a snippet from his snippet:

I once heard George Weigel remark that John Paul II seemed to him to be the most fearless person he'd ever met. But the source of the fearlessness was not John Paul's experiences under Nazi or Stalinist oppression. It was, said Weigel, because John Paul had really internalized the fact that the worst thing that could possibly happen had already happened: God had been murdered—-and God had brought Easter out of it. John Paul II knew he belonged to a race that had murdered God. He therefore believed in the reality of original sin (which is why he never tried to suggest that we could create Heaven on earth). Indeed, he had personally experienced and witnessed some of the worst horrors human sin has ever wrought. But he also believed in something deeper than sin: the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary, by which Jesus showed forth how completely He could save the human person from the destruction of sin. He believed in the Assumption of Mary, by which Jesus showed forth how completely He could glorify the human person in perfect freedom and love. In a word, John Paul knew the true dignity both of our origins and of our destiny and refused to let sin blot out that fact about us. While he acknowledged the mystery of sin, he never let sin name any person he met—even those who tried to murder him. He knew that though sin corrupts our humanity, it did not constitute our humanity. And because he knew where we came from, he knew where we were supposed to be going, because by the power of Christ Jesus, one of us is already there in Heaven, sharing fully in the glory of Christ.

Sunday August 13th is Left-Handers Day.

A celebration of the minority of people who can literally claim to be "in their right mind".

Cleaned my rock collection yesterday, one rock looked spectactular in the bright sunlight, then the sun went in as a downpour started. At least the plants will benefit.

A small bit of good luck today, was taking a shower, phone rings, answerphone picks up before I even start to get out. No message left, 1471-ed, just a telemarketing call.

Been enjoying the brief respite after redesigning the price lists at work

I have been attempting to satisfy my inner geek by trying to rent FFVII: Advent Children from the local video rental place for the past few days. (No, I'm not going to provide them with advertising, if they don't have any films I want to watch available for three days in a row.) One copy was due back today, another is a over a week overdue, so I'll try again tomorrow.

I've having more success playing Puzzle Pirates (http://www.puzzlepirates.com/), it's mostly Tetris-y games, with a piratey theme, surprisingly fun.
It's free to play, but you have to pay to unlock a lot of games, although a few are unlocked depending on the day of the week.

Decided to carefully re-introduce real cheese to my diet, the dairy-free version is vile. Fed up of gluten-free museli, trying corn flakes.

My sister Vanessa and her husband Lorenzo are coming to visit me for a week!!!!!!!!!!
I'm really happy! It's their first time in England. I hope it won't be too hot as we are going to sleep all in my bedroom!

Thre is something wrong about me! I know this for sure. My family keep on telling me and so my friends. This morning one of the Libyans teachers came at the reception. She stood there with her friendly smile pointing at me and saying: " You!"
Me: "Yes? How can I help?"Her: " You!"
Me: :) at this point I could only smile.
Her: " You've got an arabic face!"
Me: still smiling
Her: " You 've got an arabic face!"
Me: I'm afraid I'm italian.
Her: "You 've got an arabic face!"
Me: "I'm Italian."
Her: " Are you from Bretagna?"
Me: "No, from Italy"
Her: "But your parents. Are they italian?"
Me: "Yes"
Her: "Mmmh You 've got an arabic face!"
Now, I had this sort of conversation before. I was in Tunisi, sitting at the table of the restaurant waiting for the waiter to come. He came and he started speaking to me in Arabic. I said in english that I wasn't Arabic, I was Italian. He said: "You've got arabic eyes, arabic eyes!"and he started speaking arabic again. For the second time I had to explain I was Italian. He wasn't convinced at all, he shook his head, he kept on saying "arabic eyes, arabic eyes" and he was waiting for me to speak arabic. I can speak english, badly but I can, I can speak french badly badly badly and spanish badly badly but I have to confess I'd rather speak Italian. It took him a while to understand but at the end he managed to take our order, still convinced I'm sure I was Arabic.
I lost track of all the times I've been told to be Arabic, Spanish, Morroccon, Greek and Columbian! My friends told me I have an international face?!?! You can't tell where I am from. Well, I tell you where I am from, I'm Italian, I come from a small pretty village, Offagna, on the east-coast and spaghetti runs into my veins !!!!!!

I'm ok really with this business of being mistaken for other nationalities, I really don't mind. I ve just had a boring day and that was the only thing worth mentionig. But still, it makes me think.
Why nobody ever pointed at me saying "You, you've got an italian face!" My parents are Italian as my grand-parents and my grand-grand parents. The only thing is that one of my gran-dad brothers decided to leave the family to go to Argentina. So I 've got relatives there, but it's different. Anyway I'm sure my dad is blaming his uncle for transmitting to me this gene called "desire to go abroad meeting different people and learning different things". I love differences. But still, I'm in England and I just had a bowl of pasta with grated parmesan( the real one!) I should dare more on the cooking front.

I think I'm lowering down a bit the level of this blog, at least the grammatical level. Apologies. Especially to you Mark. But you know, I'm Italian with possible Arabic, Spanish Greek and Moroccon ancestors in my family. My small brain is all confused and you know I've got a small brain.