So we’re having some lovely time back in SW London enjoying the incredible summertime in the beautiful open spaces around here with our very lovable youngest grandson. Today it was Marble Hill gardens, home to one of George III’s many mistresses, though she’s long gone of course. There’s the House Festival happening there tomorrow , which is incredibly trendy, headlined by The Pet Shop Boys and Chaka Khan (we know how to get down with the kids in the borough of Richmond you know) and we watched all the trucks and stuff moving in – the little fellah’s big into lorries and diggers – from the comfort of the fenced children’s garden. We had 3 hours of blissful grandparents/kids stuff. Our little lad was as good as gold. Continue reading
Well I haven’t posted for a while – I can’t believe I’ve let the departures of Clarkson and Blatter (almost) pass without making comment on the toe-rags. But there you go. Anyway we’re here in Italy staying with our lovely neighbours and friends B&F as we check over our house after nearly 3 years away. It’s not a pretty sight but we hope that my recovery is strong enough now for us to tackle getting the place repaired and straight again.
Ah remember when life was full of hope and expectation? Apparently smiley Ed was writing his thank-you-for-the-keys-to-No-10 speech when those amazing BBC exit poll figures came out on election night forecasting a strong win for the Conservatives. It seems incredible now but all the smart money was on Miliband being invited by HRH to head up a coalition Government with the SNP. I’d love to know what happened to that draft.
Well a truly interesting day. I picked up a message this morning from WordPress, the platform providers for my blog site, that it’s exactly 8 years since I started writing and ranting as Pasta Paulie, when we moved to Italy. Blimey. Around 845 separate posts, something over a million words and almost 280,000 visits later I’m still doing it and a few people still check by – thank you so much for your perseverance folks. I’m now writing for a living as many will know – you’d have thought I’d have run out of opinions by now. No chance. Continue reading
Now what a lovely sight eh. This shot of the beautiful flowering cherry tree right outside the front door to our building was taken about two weeks ago. Imagine walking outside your front door in the morning and seeing this magnificent blossom. Ah who doesn’t love the spring eh?
Did you hear the very sad news this week about the French chef who committed suicide following a restaurant critic’s savage reviews? It turns out he simply lost the huile d’olive. Thank you I’m here all week….sorry, but it’s the best joke about olive oil that I know. Anyway what’s the point? Well, although my good friend Simon told me that gag some time ago, I happened to come across someone on the internet this week who was being honest enough to admit that he just didn’t get the joke. And…?
I’m a big fan of the cheap and cheerful competitive home dining/home styling/home catering tv formats like Come Dine With Me, Dinner Date, May the Best House Win and Four in a Bed. Things have moved on since Changing Rooms and Can’t Cook; Won’t Cook where the focus was on the designers and chefs. Now the focus is on the ordinary folk hoping to prove their B&B or home or cooking/hospitality/dating skills are the best. Of course the delight is not finding great culinary, courtship or business expertise but in coming across some of the funniest and most delusional people that hopefully you’ll only ever meet through the medium of tv.