for my new blog ”The Perseverance – in Italy”
http://notsofancynancy.blogspot.co.uk/
This will be my carry on to my next step!
I am leaving London for Italy!
ciao!
Just had a good old chat with a 69 year old lady from the island of Dominique in the West Indies at the bus stop.
After we both had a collective whinge about the changeable weather, she was reminiscing about when she first arrived here in the 1960s aged 18!
She couldn’t believe how much England has changed since then.
In her words ‘Nobody wants to know you anymore, no one wants to have a chat at the bus stop, no one will borrow you a cup of milk and there are no parties on saturday nights anymore.’
‘People used to have sing a longs in pubs, parties in basements and everyone was hungry to know each other.’ she said with a naughty smile and a glint in her eye.
‘The good old days they were…well, it was nice talking with you.’
on the garden deck and i’m thinking ‘I wish I could time travel back to June 15th’
meanwhile back on the farm….the raspberry plot has doubled in size and one single solitary strawberry has blossomed into a big fat juicy jewel.
I’ve decided i am definitly solar powered. Exactly like the strawberry.
The return to work was filled questions about my travels and updates of the business. My heart though was still eating gelato in Palermo and gazing at the stars in Cala Nova.
Isn’t it a cruel game that our minds play with us, reinforcing all those memories into one solid yellow brick road.
I have revisited my bucket list and I’m deciding what to do next……..
6 shots of black sambuca and a brazillian wax later, i’m now enroute to pick up my keys.
Which i left at the salon.
Left because i was definitly on the swaying scale beforehand? or from post traumatic disorder syndrone after?
waxed in places i never even knew hair existed.
“i don’t like hair” my eastern european S&M wax mistress said.
We then discussed the finer points of ‘The Alchemist’ in between her frowns and my winces (silently mouthing FUCK)