My hand written A4 pages tucked into my diary

After taking advice from fellow blogger/writer Helen Yendall You can see her blog here  I have been trying to do morning pages. She got the idea from this chap here.

You are supposed go into action as soon as you wake up – as soon as you open your eyes I fear – three pages, of handwritten notes. It is supposed to clear your mind and then set you up for the day. Something like that anyway. I’m not particularly good at it because I never do the writing while I’m actually still in bed but get up first, let the dog and the cat out, feed the cat, feed the dog and put the kettle on…then I start the morning pages. You write anything/everything  that comes into your head. (stream of consciousness writing) It doesn’t have to make sense (a bit like this blog post really). I’m telling you all this because I’ve been doing it for less than a week and I think it’s good! It clears the mind of rubbish before starting the day properly, so, even if you’re not a writer it’s a good thing to do.

A few issues have come up:

1. It makes my wrist and elbow ache when I write by hand.
2. I think I write less than others because my writing is big and untidy.
3. It made me think about handwriting and letters and how sad it is that we don’t do it anymore.

Another author/writer/blogger, Sophie Duffy is transcribing a number of letters written by her great grandmother Mabs (see here) and it is fascinating reading, I love them. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to reproduce my emails, text messages or Facebook status in 120 years time.

I wonder how many people today find the time to handwrite a letter and send it in the mail. I’m sure plenty produce something for a special occasion; a birth, bereavement, marriage etc., and then often it’s only a card with a short note. Even postcards are sent less and less…so I believe, although I was left about eight of those in July to post on for some people who’d been on holiday here…I hope they arrived.

I’m going to say that I’ll try and produce one handwritten letter a month to someone. The trouble is I’m not very good at keeping my promises. ( I wonder if I’ll manage to keep up the morning pages?)

Confession here…..I’ve stopped going to the gym!! My friends said that I would and I hate to have proved them right. The problem was twofold. First my knee and my elbow both had massive attacks of bursitis and when I stopped going to the gym they miraculously recovered. Secondly, the summer came and it was just too awful going to the gym and being inside. So much better to be outside and go for a walk everyday. Sadly, I don’t manage that too often – particularly as the Italian weather has been a little…shall I say changeable…? Positively wintry at times over last weekend.

Winter Sky over Le Marche 3rd September 1014

I’m hoping it will be a great deal better next week as I’m expecting two special visitors from New York! La nonna è molto felice ed emozionato. (Granny is very happy and excited)  I have begun a little collection of toys…not nearly enough I know – still have a couple of days to shop.

Toys for my nipotina

Off to write my first letter now. Who will be the lucky (unlucky) recipient?

When I was a kid my mother sent the sheets to the laundry, washed everything else at home and hung on the line in the back garden. She would NEVER have put anything out in the front garden. I can remember helping her to use the hand wringer, pushing the clothes through and being fascinated by the drips that could be squeezed out even on the third time through. Oh dear, am I really that old?

When we first moved to Italy I was surprised to see so much washing visible to the public. It hangs from the windows, across alleyways, on terraces, balconies and even in the piazza’s on ‘clothes horses’ – and – they hang ANYTHING out. I know my neighbours underwear intimately and notice when it changes from long johns to Y-fronts, yippee summer’s here, sort of thing.

We have a communal area between our house and the one next door for anyone to use for drying. It catches the sun for most of the day during the summer months and some days, it can be dry and ready to wear within half-an-hour. I never use a dryer in the summer, I don’t have one anyway. In the winter months I nip down to the local launderette but only when absolutely necessary…otherwise, out it all goes, any time of the year when the sun shines.

Pulley system between high windows

I reckon my mother would be appalled because now I put all my clothes out on the line without shame, for the whole of Petritoli to observe. I must admit that when back in the UK and shopping in M&S for underwear I do consider who might see it and try to avoid anything too controversial. If at all worried I keep the ‘smalls’ to one side and find a space for them to be dried in private!

A LITTLE POEM JUST FOR FUN

Hanging out the washing, to dry in air and sun
Is almost verging, I would say, on my idea of fun!
There’s nothing like that feeling when you fall into your bed
And sheets are fresh and clean and crisp,
The scent of summer fills your head.

You lay beside your partner; you’re feeling good and clean
It’s kind of cosy, neat and cool, and perfect, it would seem.
Then the mood is shattered, air polluted, sheets destroyed
Someone has eaten gassy food…
He laughs, but you’re annoyed!

Check out my other blog shortstorypods.com

photo from http://biolifetherapy.com this is NOT the actual machine that Doc Holliday was promoting but it looked pretty similar

A couple of weeks ago I was cajoled into attending a demonstration by a man selling some medical equipment. It was a magnetic pain relief machine for use in your own home.

I had to go alone because The Man had made other arrangements, as they do, but I felt I couldn’t let the organisers down because often no-one turns up at these events and they had gone to a lot of trouble making nibbles etc., It was held in a basement room attached to a local bar.

It was due to begin at 20.45 but I know from experience that anything Italian never starts on time and I guessed it wouldn’t start until about 21.15

They took your name as you went in and asked, ‘who and where is your husband/wife?’ This was apparently a company regulation, because if you decided to sign up and buy one of these machines then both parties must agree.

Well, the punters were up in arms about this, a selection of comments follow:-

‘What if you are a widow? ‘What if you don’t want to come with your husband?’ ‘What if you are single’ ‘What if you’re gay?’ ‘What if you are widower?’ ‘You are discriminating against all these people, it isn’t right!’

The poor man demonstrating tried to argue his point but in the end gave up. Especially as it was obvious that some people were just saying they were married to each other to be annoying when in fact they were neighbours or had only just met – imagine that, a romance starting at a demonstration for a medical machine.

The poster said, VOGLIO VIVERE SENZA DOLORE? WANT TO LIVE WITHOUT PAIN?

I was beginning to feel a pain in my butt from sitting and waiting for so long in a hard chair for the demonstration to begin. People were still wandering in at 21.30. Eventually, he began. At a quarter to ten! He started to hold forth on the glories of his magnificent machine. I was immediately reminded of a Wild West Medicine Show.

There was NOTHING this machine could not cure.

Doc Holliday, (I rename the demonstrator) was having a bit of trouble getting the crowd to shut up and listen while he told us the benefits of this wondrous apparatus.

‘Please,’ he said,’ I’m trying to talk to you but you are very noisy, please listen to what I have to say.’

‘Hey, you’re in Petritoli now! We’re Petritolesi and we’re a noisy bunch! You’re not in Senigallia now with them posh lot!’ A woman shouted from the back. I thought things were warming up and the evening was getting very interesting.

‘How much does it cost?’ shouted a chap from the back.

‘I’ll tell you that later, first I must explain the workings and benefits.’

Doc Holliday handed out a laminated flyer, which listed at least 100 ailments that could be cured, including impotency. This caused an absolute uproar.

‘Where do you have to put the magnetic pads to cure impotency then?’ said the man on my row. ‘I wouldn’t want to put them anywhere near my coglioni (I’ll leave you to guess the translation). A cry of laughter from the audience went up and Doc Holliday flapped about wringing his hands. He decided the next best course of action was to give up talking and give a demonstration of the ‘cure all machine’.

An audience member was duly chosen. She qualified because she suffered pain everywhere and was willing to give it a go. She sat at the front and he plugged her in.

I don’t know if it was the lateness of the evening, the workings of the contraption or boredom but within ten minutes she was falling asleep as was I so I made my excuses and left.

I never did find out how much the machine cost.

I went to the gym yesterday and told Matteo that I wanted to take a photo of him for my blog.
‘You have WattsApp?’ he asked.
‘Yes’
‘I send photo, now!’
He quickly rushed to his smart phone and after adding my number said,
‘I send it.’

Matteo (publicity shot I think)

You like it?’ he enquired, a big grin on his face.

I’ll let my readers be the judge. It is a great photo, posed of course and imagine having ‘one you prepared earlier’ ready for any request that might pop up.

He didn’t look quite like this at 10 am on Monday morning I have to say!

If you’ve not read the previous post you might wonder what this is all about. You can check it out on the link below.
Photo To Follow