Mama Fairy gets busier

This year we decided to give the girls a small weekly allowance,just to start giving them the value of money.The idea is to make them understand the value of things and how hard is to earn them. Since they have this little amount of pocket money they decided to buy each other a birthday present.Something small but, it’s the gesture that matters.Next Tuesday it will be A‘s birthday and CG got her a present .A funny penn shaped as a reindeer wearing boxing gloves .The peculiarity of the pen is that if you push a button in the back the arms stretch like she is punching.Perfect gift for her sister indeed.Unfortunately today when we take it out the bag to wrap it we realised it was broken.One of the arm broke.I tried to fix it with super glue,my solution for pretty much everything that breaks but, it didn’t work.Desperation covered CG face,not only she didn’t have a present for her sister but she also wasted two euros,thai is more than half of her weekly allowance.Poor thing!I offered to bring her to buy an other present and also to refund her of the two euros already spent.Not because I am an incredible generous mother but because I know I drop the bag with the pen in it and,may be, I have some responsibility in the breakage.
We didn’t go back to the shopping center but we decided to go instead to the village toys shop.To be honest when it comes to buy toys I always go to the big chain shops as there is more choice and lots of offers but this little shop is the kingdom of the toy gadget.A is the queen of any sort of gadget so, no better place.On the contrary of what you would expect then, the shop is not even dear.It is small and with not much to offer at first sight but, once you start looking around more carefully, you will always find what you want and much more.It is a toy version of the little shop of horrors:you know when you go in but never when you get out and with what.

The Little village toy shop also sell fairy doors and a multitude of accessories to decorate them.CG,after doing her maths with the money she has saved and the current week allowance she is still entitled to,couldn’t resist the temptation of buying a new fairy door plus a welcome sign, a new letter box and a giant mushroom to embellish the whole new set up.I tried to object that they both already have a fairy but what I didn’t know, it was that apparently you can have as many fairies as you want as they all have different roles.Obviously I didn’t do my homework well and,maybe, I should have read the fairy book myself before giving it to her!Mama fairy has definitely still a lot to learn!

CG has been busy most of the morning coloring the new door and the accessories.The plan was to put this new door inside her bedroom. I can see instead, it has been placed outside with the other two. Someone must have convinced her to share it.The same someone won’t be happy when she will be told that sharing the new fairy door means sharing its purchase as well.I will wait few days. If the door will be moved in CG ‘s bedroom it will mean that, for A, preserving intact her little fortune had still more appeal than gaining a new fairy.
In the afternoon I have been asked to bake fairy cupcakes….:What else.
As I have nothing to do,(except ironing,cleaning,changing all the bed linen in all the beds,walk the dogs,start tidying up for nona arrival on Monday etc etc),I bake.The girls helped…..but of course when the fun part is over they ran.

Tonight when i went upstairs for the goodnight kiss and, mainly to threaten them to be quiet and retire in their own bedrooms, I realised a note has been left outside the fairy doors along with three cupcakes.
Just the time to go brush my teeth ,before going back downstairs to watch some tv and, when I came out from my bathroom, the giant dog is looking at me with big guilty puppy eyes while his stepsister is licking her whiskers.It didn’t take a genius to understand what happened there.The cupcakes went straight into their belly rather than into the fairies’s doors.Not long before the girls realised what happened too.It took just the last trip to the bathroom before switching their lamp off for good:”Mama.Kurt and Clara ate the cupcakes”.”Yea,well what would you expect?!”.No, i didn’t say that.I am not that cruel.I just thought of doing it.”I will get an other tree and keep the dogs away”.That was my politically correct answer…..said of course in that sweet patient tone that only a mother can fake so well.I replaced the cupcakes and I made sure the dogs stayed downstairs with me for the rest of the evening.

Before going to bed I usually let the dogs out. Tonight is no exception.While they are outside in the garden I go up and,after making sure the girls are fast asleep, I take the cakes and the note and bring them into my bedroom.
Like in a dream,at the end of another long and eventful day,I can eventually enjoy the warmth of my bed and the feeling of the freshly changed bedlinen on my skin.Nothing is more luxurious than the first sleep in a clean bed:The smell of the fabric softener,the crisp of the clean cotton,the total absence of dog’s hair.
I am back in my role of mama fairy.I am sitting on my scented bed enjoying my fairy cupcakes.,I wont deny a bit of guilty out of the amount of calories I am stuffing myself with but,every mama fairy has to do what she as to do.Being a mama fairy requires sacrifice sometimes.

Fairy cupcakes,apple spice tea, a pen and a notebook to write a reply note.A little note to introduce myself as Henrietta.Henrietta the pet fairy.Henrietta the happy neighbour of Poppy and Elda.

Spinning around

Half an hour on my on and in the silence since ….when……?3 weeks?I am sitting inside my car waiting for CG to finish her fiddle lesson.It is been 2 days I am trying to write something but it was too late at night and Orfeo had the best over me .Monday we took it easy but then I had to catch with everything I planned to do last week but,for obvious reasons ,I didn’t.

I have been like a spinning top all week :inside the house and out.So many things to do and not so much time.The traveling husband is not a too bad patient but he is a patient.He need care.He needs to be fed and not only at dinner time but at lunch time too.I won’t hide this is highly destabilizing my routine.I swear I will complaint no more about the hassle of preparing lunch boxes for the three of them every day.No,I am actually joking:I will still moan about it.It is a task that I diligently perform Monday to Friday but some days I would rather shoot myself in my feet then doing it.Or that is when I have to hung or fold the laundryThose are actually others daily duties that I equally despise.I am afraid this ,also prove that mathematic is not my strength subject.Never was and never will be:if I have to shoot my feet for any of each task ,above mentioned and despised,I should in fact have three feet.I am a very ordinary woman instead.I only have two feet:one each leg!

I have been a spinning top inside my head too.Not only because my mind was overflowing with things to do that I have to categorize and order based on priority and dead line but also because my mind was overwhelmed with worries about my husband well being.It seems now,that there is an infection in the wound.Nothing we can really do about it till tomorrow,when the stitches will be removed and we will see for sure what is going on.I am rushing from thought to thought and from place to place. It is Thursday night ,I nearly made it through the week.I know I won’t sleep well tonight because I will be dreading tomorrow morning,what the doctor will say.

The to do list is nearly all accomplished. November is usually already a busy month without any emergency surgery.A ‘s birthday is next week.There is a party to be organized and presents to be bought.We never give our kids presents for their birthdays,our present is their party.They are anyway receiving so many presents that they really don’t need more.The presents I have to buy are the one on behalf of the grand parents ,the great grandparents and their aunt .This is much easier then shipping them or bringing them over .If Nana comes over we pretend she carried them with her ;if she doesn’t I just pretend they arrived by post .November is also the birthday month of my grand dad and my aunt so I need to take care of their presents too.Buying them and shipping them a bit in advance so that they will have them in time.Of course a couple of school mates have their birthday in November too:more presents to buy and parties to attend.

Last but not least of our task for this week was the shoe box appeal.Our school does it every year.It is not compulsory but since the girls started school we are doing it .Last year we were too late to leave our parcels in school and we had to go all the way to Dublin to deliver our boxes.The dropping place was an old bus not in service,very original location.At the end it was a sort of adventure and an excuse for a girls treat in town.They are now old enough to participate at the preparation of the boxes and to understand the message and value behind it. I like them to be aware they are lucky to have what they have and to live where they do.I don’t want them to be paranoid but I think they must be aware of the different situations in the world.I know many people think this kind of initiative are spoiled by financial interests and the actual recipients of our charity will be never reached but, we have to trust somebody or we will never do anything for anybody.I am trying to rise my girls with compassion.I am trying to teach them compassion and this seems a practical way to do it.We pick together what to send and they have to buy a treat for the receiving kids with their own pocket money.Something they would like for themselves:something they decide to give rather then to keep.Something small,it doesn’t matter ,it is the gesture.The first time I asked them to do that I wasn’t sure about their reaction.I was wrong.They understood exactly what I meant and why I was asking them to doit.No objections were ever made.Since the beginning they gave willingly.They are not saints and they can be very possessive of their things but,this is different.I will be honest,this makes me proud .It makes me feel successful as a mother.I know it sound presumptuous but,looking at them wrapping happily their boxes and feeling good to do some good,tells me I am passing them some values.It tells me I am on the right path to teach them compassion.

I am driving home.Only CG in the back seat.She is telling me the latest notes she learned at fiddle lesson.I am already thinking the agony for my ears when we will get home and she will start practicing.The sea is at my back.The green fields are surrounding me.The sky has that unique light only visible just before dusk:no dark ,no bright.It was a lovely day,the sun shine through all day.Some clouds started to populate the sky only now.I have a big agglomeration of them in front of me but they are not white ….they are pink.They are like an enormous Aladdin’s rug made of cotton balls stitched together.I am driving up the hill.The impression is that I am driving into them.It is a spectacular view.A view that for few minutes makes me forget about all the things I still have to do.A view that for few minutes stop my head from spinning and freeze al my worries.

The rudeness of redness

Monday,eventually.I never thought to say that in my life but I am glad it is Monday.I am glad it is this Monday..
“Manic Monday” the Bangles used to sing.”Ordinary Monday”I happily sing .

The alarm clock rings and I am just happy is a back to normal Monday.Girls are back to school;I am back to my yoga;the dogs are back to their long morning walk on the beach.All the afternoon activities are back on too.There is only one thing out of ordinary:the travelling husband home all day.That, it is actually a pleasant out of ordinary thing.No more tedious drives back and forth to the hospital.He is home,safe and well….ish!
We made it to the afternoon with no unexpected events.Except the WiFi that start acting as crap as ever and a couple of nasty phone calls with the provider company but,this is material for an other post.

I am driving the girls to tennis lessons.I am rushing through randomly paved country side roads full of bumps and holes.The sun is very shy.It can’t properly make its way through the clouds.With the complicity of the autumn wind the grey sky make me feel the drop of the temperatures quite drastically.It is cold.It is a typical november day,with no rain.While still in the car A suddenly asks: “Is it true that writing in red is rude?”.I had to make her repeat the question twice not sure if I heard correctly.Once I realized I did hear it correctly, I had to ask her to repeat the question again.Only this time I was looking for inspiration because I couldn’t understand what she meant.CG, probably seeing I was totally lost,jumped into the conversation saying that it is rude indeed.Accordingly with the social requirements she was taught from who knows who,in fact,the red pen is used in kids birthday party invitation to ask to do or not to do something and by the teachers to mark mistakes in the homeworks.It can also be polite if used to write compliments like “well done” or “good work”in the homework but,only the teachers use it that way.I won’t hide I was even more confused then.A throw herself back in the debate and says that one of her class mate said it is rude to write in red because it is like shouting.At this stage question marks where populating my brain and going to show up in a long line on my forehead imminently.She keeps talking and says her teacher also said it is rude to write in red.Now,whatever the teacher said and whatever they understood I had to say something.Not only because red is one of my favourite colors but also because I refuse to be an accomplice in this ridiculous conspiracy against colors.Calmly and trying to keep my eyes on the road,I unveiled the ugly true:they were all nonsense.If someone is wondering about the appropriateness of the word”nonsense”,referred to something said by the teachers,(that I swear usually always back up),I specify that I said I was going to tackle the matter calmly not in a politically correct way.There is no such a thing of rude colors,i said.I explained that they are not allowed to write in red in their school copy books only because red is the color of the pen that the teachers use to correct their work.If they were using a green pen,they wouldn’t be allowed to use green !I remember, when i was in school myself, my teacher used to use the red pen only to mark mistakes.The black one to praise the good work.Back then there was actually the association between red and bad but,certainly no rude.My daughters’ teachers use the red pen for everything indistinctively:good or bad comments.No room for rudeness whatsoever in using the red I would say.As much as i love their teachers i don’t agree at all with this diminishing of the red pen.This time they got it all wrong.Just say to the kids they are not allowed to use it because it is the color used to correct the homework but,don’t call it rude.I thought it was a very curious choice of words actually.A very curious argument to bring in a class of 3rd and 5th graders indeed.Curious and misleading It is an approach that kind of making me go back in time.It is spontaneous the association with when,back in the days,lefthanders were forced to use their right hand because the left one was the hand of the devil.I wonder what could have happened if someone was caught to write with their left hand and a red pen:instant guillotine i guess.

I grew up wearing dark blue,dark green and black.A bit of brown was allowed too.Once in my thirties I discovered the colors and their power.The magic they can work on my mind and mood is amazing;or is my mind and mood playing trick on them?This is a million dollar question.Did the discovery of colors change me or did I discover the colours because I changed first?I think I know the answer but it is not important here.What is matters is that I like colors and the infusion of energy they give.I am trying to pass it over to my girls.My mother used to say they were very colorful.She mainly referred to their clothes and I was not sure it was meant as a compliment.I used to replay that they are kids and kids must be colorful.My kids are still colorful and she gave up commenting.Last time I was in Italy in winter time,my attention was captured by the fact that most of the kids around were dressed like mini me of their parents and they were wearing any shade of grey and black because, those were the colors that the fashion dictated for the current season.I then decided that my mother’s comment about the colourfulness of my girls was a compliment.A compliment indeed ,as they are colorful as much outside as inside.When they will be older they will start picking their own colors and will start experimenting with colors: there might be a dark fase(I had it),a hippish fase ,a whatever else fase.It will be their choice.It will be the reflection of that time of their life and it will be ok.For now they are still too young.They are “just kids”.They have to play and enjoy life as kids with their own identity.A kids’ identity.They need brightness,happiness,lightheartedness.They need to taste all the colors of the world so to be able to choose the right ones for them in the future.I am determined on this one:I won’t play along with the “rude red theory”.I knowingly opposed their teachers and as ultimate act of rebellion I did sign their homework journal with a red pen!

“Manic Monday” the Bangles used to sing.”Ordinary Red Rebellious Monday” I sing.

Dark rituals

Driving in the dark always had some fascination to me.To be totally honest, everything in the dark acquires some charme.In my mind dark is equal to warm and cosy.Warm lights and candles lit inside the houses.May be a fire on too,illuminating the room and playing his music made of crackling pieces of wood. What I like most of Autumn is the embrace of the nightfall that comes early in the afternoon and infuses every ambience with calm.I feel entitled to slow down when dark comes.My state of mind automatically switch from the hecticity that characterised the whole day to a soothing pace.My mind is at peace and as much contradictory it can sound I am more productive because I am calm focus and relaxed.I do rush no longer.Many complaint that the arrival of an early twilight depresses them.Not me,on the contrary.Dont get me wrong.I love summer evenings when day light is up until late. It is fun and invigorating but it is not warm and cosy and, after months of that I need darkness.I suppose the secret is that we are so lucky to have them both: so to never get bored of one or the other.That is probably why we have the cycle of seasons.Universe and Mother Nature are perfect in their structure.We too often forget this.We can only enjoy the light because we also have the dark.We can only enjoy the good because we also have the evil.

I am driving to the hospital on my own tonight.The girls are back at my darling neighbour .I didn’t give her the whole week end off after all .Buying her a present is in my to do list for next week.She well earned it.The traffic is no bad at all.It’s saturday night and I was not expecting anything else.What I was not expecting was the army of teen ager greedily experiencing their first taste of “nocturnal”freedom.The village’s road is dark and they are walking on the side of the road.Most of them wearing nothing reflective and on the wrong side of the road.I take a turn and a bunch of them suddenly appears in front of me.I would like to turn down the window and shout them to go on the other side of he road:”did your mother not teach you to always walk on the opposite side of the cars?For foke sake you are countryside kids…you should know better”.I also think about using my horn but then I live it.I think that A will probably be doing the same in few years.A scary image fills my head but then I think,she wont.She will remember her mother’s swearing at those who don’t respect the roads rules endangering themselves and others and she will be smarter. She will walk on the right side of the road.

I am nearly at the hospital waiting for the traffic light to become green and the moon stood in front of me.Shine and low,nearly reachabe.It is a full moon and tonight light mist makes it look like there is a thin veil covering it.It is a paint;a poster of a old black and white movie.It is beautiful,I only hope it will let me sleep.I never sleep well when there is full moon.I suppose this time it won’t make much difference because since the traveling husband is in the hospital my sleep is not the best.
The hospital is quiet.So much crowded it was yesterday and so much quiet it is today.Week end is week end,also for the most loyal visitors…except for a loving and caring wife of course!He was in bad form yesterday but today he seems a bit better and the temperature went down.I guess the first two day he was too good.Probably because still staffed with heavy painkiller.Recovery wont be that brief.

I leave the hospital slightly more reassured about his health conditions.I am driving back home.I am passing a residential area.I find the row of red brick terraced house, with their multicolour doors,particularly pleasant to look at.The lights are on and from the road you can see inside the windows.I like to peep.I wonder who lives in there;what they do;are they happy?What is the story behind that painting hanging over the mantelpiece?Has it been inherited?Has it been bought in some antique’s market or has it been painted by the lady of the house? When it is dark outside and the warm lights inside are visible,a feeling of cosiness embrace me fully.I can’t stop looking and wondering with my thoughts.It is an irrepressible impulse.I am not nosy, I just have an extremely romantic vision of the concept of “home” and when dark comes I unleash my fantasy so that it can play with it.As I said before in other posts,I am a nester.An incurable romantic nester.Nothing I can do about.I then ask myself if the ones who look at my house from outside will think and feel the same.Hopefully yes.I want to emane cosy feelings too for my spectators.Unfortunately, this habit of mine of peeping inside the house and wonder with my mind, is a very dangerous one while driving.Big horn from behind:the traffic light is green and I am not moving:”of course I am not moving. have you seen that living room?”.I am afraid the driver behind me is neither a nester nor a mind wanderer.I engage the gear and go.I am mortified:I am usually the one who bip at traffic lights.Unnecessary to say that after this I will think twice before doing it again.I feel pressure now.I start speeding just to show the bossy non nester driver behind me that I am not a slow driver.I delayed to go at the traffic light not because I am an incompetent driver but because I am a distracted driver:I was lost in someone else’s home and in someone else’s life.In my defense,I specify that I wouldn’t be bother to get lost in someone else’s “house”,it must be a “home”.Every home is different.Every household is different.There might be similarity but every home plays by its rules.In every household there are habits,rules,routines and, most importantly ,there are rituals.Rituals are built up in years and years.They are built out of complicity and love.They make a home,a household,a family and a couple unique.The little daily rituals hidden behind closed doors are not boring routines.They are the essence of being harmoniously together.

I am home.I am finally curled up on the sofa still infused with warm and cosy sensations from my road trip through lit windows.My lap top open in front of me. A vanilla bean candle burning on the table. A nearly empty glass of japanese whisky in my hand.Its fire in my stomach and its bitter aroma still in my mouth ,fusing with the sweet taste of some chocolate,dark:what else!
This is my personal saturday night ritual.

Me,the router and the boost.

The traveling husband is bored:unmistakable sign of getting better.I am not and neither is my darling neighbor who is minding my girls every night.Four years in the same street and we have never seen so much of each other…not even her dog comes to the door barking and wagging her tail anymore.Yesterday evening we rang the bell but got no answer .They were all in the back garden and couldn’t hear it.The front door was unlocked and we let ourselves in.Darcy,the dog,came to us and didn’t even attempt a warning bark.She just looked at us with resigned eyes: “Oh, you again.Yea,right, come in.Make yourself at home”.
Today I am only going once to the hospital.I will go tonight with the girls.The travelling husband he is feeling better and can walk down to the cafeteria.Just one trip to hospital means that this morning was the morning for relaxing and chilling for the first time in days.For the first time in days I didn’t have to rush to walk the dogs,drop the girls somewhere, drive to the hospital, drive back from the hospital, collect the girls,feed them,leave them at my neighbour’ s doorstep,drive back to the hospital and back home from the hospital, collect the girls from next door and go home to sort the laundry and whatever else before crashing into bed.Today no.Today I wanted to take it easy and slowly.Wondering in my pj from room to room ,ideally with a chai latte in my hand.

Unfortunately the evil router stood between me,my lazy morning and my chai latte.The house broadband is very slow and the signal is very poor.It was not always like that.The service started to go bad before summer.In the last weeks the situation degenerated to a point that I am mainly using the 3g on my phone.After ringing multiple times the provider I decided to follow their advice and buy a wifi booster:internet will still be slow but at least the signal will reach every room.Yesterday afternoon,on my way back from the hospital,I stopped at the shop and bought the booster.When I enter the shop and asked the guy what i needed,he looked at me and asked which provider I was with. Once he knew,he looked at me with disappointment and asked if I was in a contract. When I said yes he started to shake his head and gave me patronizing smile like: “who does that?nobody does contracts anymore!” . I felt like an idiot and tried to justify myself saying I was only in a 12 months contract and just have 4 months to go.He was not interested.I was just another “woman” who doesn’t understand a thing about technology .I couldn’t stand it any longer,it was humiliating.I grabbed the boost box from his hands and run to the till.

After I came back from the evening visit and sent the girls to bed, I unboxed the router boost and connected it.Well,supposedly connected it. “Easy wifi boost”, it says in the box… difficult can it be?Much more then what it says in the box,I say!Exhausted and as nervous as I had sat on a cactus I went to bed with my ipad.The moment of true:the boost was not really working and internet was as slow and poor as ususal.To be completely honest.I had my doubts about the boost setup.The router port where I should have plugged it in according to the quick setup guide was nowhere to be found in the back of my box.Going back to the shop and saying to the guy I am actually even more idiot then he thinks because I also bought the wrong boost was obviously out of question.I simply used my fantasy and plugged it in a random port with the colour I liked the most.It was late,I needed to sleep.I eventually gave up for the night and went to sleep with the usual nonsense hope that, may be, in the morning everything will miraculously work perfectly.

Morning time it is:coffe,updates from the travelling husband and back to the boost setup.The instructions guide was ridioulous.You must either be an electrical engineer or you must have done it before to understand what to do.I decided to check online and with three youtube tutorial open and running simultaneously I made it.”Easy wifi setup”,exactly as it says on the box.I have now a decent signal everywhere in the house.One hour later,I still have the signal but no internet. The odyssey on the phone with the help center starts.Of course the operators are all busy but the callback should not take more them 15 minutes.I leave the call back request and 20 minutes later I receive the call.I am annoyed.I explained the situation.They reset the router (for the third time in 4 months).Now it should work except it doesn’t.I ring again.An another call back.Andrew the operator is very useful.He,not only resets the router but,also changes its name and the password so that now I have to reconnect every device in the house(tablets,phone,printer ,sky box etc etc).It took me nearly an hour to do that but it worth it.Internet is actually working at a decent speed now.3/4 of my morning went already.I go to take a shower and get dressed.I came down and go online to buy a present for my grandma.It’s a quick purchase.I know what I want to buy,I go straight for it.I pick it and check out.I click for the payment and internet froze.My left eyebrow starts vibrating and my temper starts raising.An other call to the technical support and an other call back request.An other 20 minutes to wait.Denise called me back.She is very calm and professional.Kind too.I can’t be using my bitch tone,even if I would be more then entitled to.She is too nice.I nicely explain what the problem is and what the previous operator did.She checks everything.She did reset the router(again) and ultimately changed I don’t know what.Apparently we were receiving a too strong signal for our line.

930pm:Internet is still working and quite fast.May be this time we did it.Miss Denise saved the day!

A Halloween to hell and back

I-am eventually back after days of no written activity.Plenty of other activities,actually and unfortunately. A lot happened since Sunday:Do we wanted a scary Halloween?…We had it.

On Sunday evening,like tradition wants, we hosted the Halloween party.It was a very fun and successful one.It could not be otherwise with the guest list we had.The big Gatsby and his Daisy were there;Ozzie Osbourn accompanied by a dead angel;Ace Ventura came with a sexy mummy and,of course,MR Dead and Count Dracula.Captain Hook and his army of little multicolour skeletons too.The bloody hosts did well and their guests enjoyed themselves and left happy.May be the bloody host did too well with food and wine as he felt sick all Monday:indigestion,what else.Much else it was instead.

The ambulance came around 4.30 in the morning and the bloody host,aka the travelling husband,had an emergency operation with multiple complications.It was the first time I called an ambulance and I thought it was like in the american movies:quick and efficient .It was not.First,if you think they get your address automatically from the number you are calling,forget it.They dont.You have to tell it and spell it for them.Second,it is not that quick,i had to ring twice.Eventually the paramedics arrived and with imperturbable calm went upstairs ,checked on him and carried him in the ambulance.All this also finding the time to compliment me on my Halloween decorations and to ask me where I bought my pumpkins’ accessorise.” who the f… cares about the decorations.take them husband is upstairs convulsing”.Did I shout it at them ?I don’t remember,sure I did think it .So he went and i stayed at home with the girls,waiting for updates and ringing the A&E every 45 minutes.By the time the girls were up we knew what it was,we knew he needed surgery. My kind neighbor offered to mind them during the day and evening and a friend offered to bring them trick or treat.I was worried: I was worried for my husband(no i was actually terrified for him) and I was worried about how to break the news to my daughters that,miraculously,slept through the whole happening.Or at least that we thought.A can be very very anxious.As soon she came down for breakfast I told her what happened and how I organized the day for them but ,she knew already.She heard me on the phone when she woke up to drink some water during the night but didn’t come out to not add more distress.Wow, mama fairy lost her marbles at the end and didn’t really keep calm as she thought she did. Also,apparently,we had a circus of light outside the house very hard to miss. And that is how my lovely neighbor was already in my kitchen making tea at 5 am.When I eventually made it to the hospital I got to speak to the surgeon who explained what it was and listed all the possible complications.Of course that was the worst case scenario.”They have to inform you about it to cover their back”,said the traveling husband who was not convulsing any more thank to a drip of antibiotic ad pain killer.”Right,will that make me feel better or not?NO!”,thought between herself and herself mama fairy.
The longest afternoon of my life was ahead of me.I left the hospital around 2pm and due back around 6pm when the operation should have been long finished and the patient should have been in his room. That didn’t happened.All that worst case scenario mentioned earlier happened instead and the surgery was longer then expected.The travelling husband surgery is a perfect by the book case of everything that can go wrong with a perforated and burst appendix.The 11 stitches on the open cut and the hole for the drainage will remind him of this for a while but,because we always look at the glass half full,it also gave him his 15 minutes of fame.Tomorrow morning, in fact, he has been asked to go to a medical class to speak about his surgery.Wow…..what else can i say!

Thankfully,everything went well and it seems now he is on the mend,but the fright and the thoughts you get in these situations stay forever,I guess.No, of course I didn’t need something like that to remind me how lucky I am or how much I love my husband but ,surely,something like that reminds you that sometime it is ok to live by the moment because you know where you are and who you are with today but,tomorrow,everything can change and with no warnings.If we waited few more hours I wouldn’t be here writing about this and trying to find the ironic side of the whole story.We did the right call at the right time.I can’t not to think that,may be,it was a test and we better don’t screw it.We have been blessed and spared:we better don’t waisted the chance to live fully and gratefully.May be this is what situations like this are supposed to teach you.Big dilemma is:will the moral teaching stay or we will forget about the whole thing in a short time and go back to ignore the biggest gift we have been given?A life to live and someone to love?

The night of the Halloween disco.

Real, Surreal and Unreal this is the time of the year when all these dimensions merge together.
It is the night of the long craved Halloween disco.Because I am supposed to collect my friend’s kids I take the back road instead of the coast one.I am driving in the pitch dark,my hands covered in blood(fake blood that, no matter what you use, it stays on your skin for days.)I am a bat tonight.A simple mask, black and purple,painted on my face and a hairband with little fury bats sticking up and wiggling at every movements of my head.I soon realised that I should have taken it off for the drive.The two little fury creatures,in fact,keep catching themselves in the car’s roof. I try to adjust the position of my head.I lowered and stiff my neck as much as I can.I am profoundly grateful for the side mirrors as I can’t turn my head. On the back seats I carry a zombie with a knife stuck in her head and a dead dancing queen with bright fuchsia huge curly hair “giggling”at every bump of the road.My walking dead passengers start arguing:the zombie girl complains against the dancing queen who apparently slaps her with her wig every time she moves.I pull over.I threatened to let them on the side of the road and then we proceed to efficiently and pragmatically sort the quarrel out:no harm can be done to an already dead and resuscitated person, there is no ground for complaint.We are back on the road and, officially late(disco starts at 7pm but I am supposed to be there a bit early to prepare my workstation).The dancing queen screams,her zombie sister follows:”watch out”.My foot goes heavy on the brake.The tyres make that unmistakable grindy noise due to the their friction on the graveled road .Just in front of the car, in the middle of the road, there is a dog.It is black like the night and sure not a stray one.It looks well looked after and has a collar on.I get out the car but when I try to approach it runs back in the field,alive and safe.We are back on the road…again!
My friend rang to say I don’t need to collect her girls as they are running late and are not ready yet.I will only be required to give them a lift back home .We made it to the disco and not even that late,until, of course ,we waste 5 minutes to take a well done selfie of the three of us.It not for the sake of pure vanity. We want to send it to the travelling husband who,is still waiting to board his airplane in Rome.Tonight I am on cash duty.I will be at the entrance selling the tickets and making sure everybody pays and ,most of all, making sure that nobody leaves unaccompanied.I say my workstation is a pretty good one.I will be able to see all the costumes and I will be spared the “inside room”:Loudly noisy,dark and sweaty.I don’t have my mother very sensitive sense of smell but I easily pick the smell of humanitas this events usually trap.Not to mention the smelly hormones released from the kids in 5Th and 6th year.I have enough with the gymnastic place.

Little digression:CG is no sporty at all.She ,in true, likes swimming even if it came a very long way.She only does tennis because she has to but,she loves gymnastic.She never complaints to go;she goes in happy and comes out happier.She learnt nothing so far(she is doing it for 3 years)but she loves it so …..what the hell:who cares,I let her be and do! The problem is, the gym is smelly.Very much smelly!I always make sure I don’t get there too early either to drop or collect her as the smell of sweaty feet that welcomes you as soon you open the front door is unbearable.There are diligent parents staying there to watch their kids for the whole hour and, I still can’t really understand how they do that:Would they spread the inside of their nose with vicks vaporub before they go in ?or they are all suffering from congenital anosmia?

Now,the little smelly digression is over.Let’s go back to the disco.7 o’clock:let the fun begins.I sit back and start to welcome the spooky paying audience.I am trilled by the fantasy of some of the costumes and fascinated by the skills of some of the parents on making them.I sell tickets to lots of skeletons,a lightening with his partner the cloud.Dead school girls is a very popular trend.Narnia comes in too,followed by a little army of minions and few princesses as well:some dead some pretty much alive.Georgie from IT is my favorite. Disco will be over at 9 pm.It is now 8.30pm and I suppose nobody will come in again.I lock the till and go inside.Thanks God windows are open.The dj is actually pretty good this year.Kids are wildly running, dancing and playing .It is a very happy mayhem in there.”Thriller” is playing.!10 minutes to go,the parents join the dancing floor.Some of them in fancy dress,some of them no.Last song on.The big final:Real, Surreal and Unreal merge together on the note of “Time Warp”from the timeless Rocky Horror Picture Show.

The disco is over and we are back home,showered changed in our pjs and in bed.Tired but satisfied. It was an awesome evening:another successful Halloween disco.

I am sipping my apple spice tea in the warmth and quiet of my bed(dogs are obviously at my feet)and I think at how lucky these kids are.They are building happy memories that will stay with them forever .I feel admiration for those parents who worked on the costumes,keeped up the spirit and happily sacrificed their friday night.
I feel sad for those kids who dont dress up because it is not cool! I would like to shout at them: “be kids as long as you can.Dressing up it is cool.It is your chance to be whatever you want.”.I would like to shout to their parents to not allow their kids to grow faster then they have to.That is not cool.Free the imagination and be spontaneous that is cool.
This is the end of a Truly Madly Ordinary Halloween disco night.