Hide and seek, or something.

4.45am – I played hide-and-seek* with sleep…and lost.
Note for younger readers:

* Hide-and-seek: A game played outside where one kid closed his eyes while the other went and hid. ‘Outside’ is the generic term for out of the house, whether it was sunny, it rained or indeed snowed, it didn’t matter as long as you were home by dinner. It was also the reason why ‘the fat kid’** was an exception and not the rule.

** The fat kid: A term no longer used as a whole generation of kids now growing up rarely go outside and instead play on their computers all day and, well, get fat. The only computers we saw were on Star trek. Plus, it’s not politically correct*** to say such things.

*** Politically correct: A modern concept dreamed up by a few people that are scared of offending a minority of people but in fact end up offending the majority. For examples, see the British government’s fear of the St. George’s flag and the celebration of St. Georges day in general along with Italy’s Matteo Renzi ordering the covering of nude statues at Rome’s Capitoline Museum during a visit by the Iranian President Hassan Rouhani.  

Napoli coach Maurizio Sarri recently called Inter manager Roberto Mancini “froccio” (Eng. “poofter”) and that’s the only thing we heard on Italian news for 2 days. There are more important things to show on the news.  

In other words, world gone mad.

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Ode to Moka

In certain aspects during these last 12 years I’ve become ‘Italianised’ living here so close to the border.  When I’m back in the UK I dread hotel sachets of instant coffee and certain coffee-house chains, famous apparently for their ‘Italian’ coffees, serve me an espresso the size of a large glass of wine.  “No!” I want to shout.  I don’t however, I just sit there sipping and dreaming of my trusty Moka at home.  I like coffee, very much in fact but as I already have a sleep disorder I was advised not to drink it after 2pm.  However, when I wake up the first thing after splashing my face is the preparation of the Moka.  Then I can work.  Like, about now…

Once I was a fruit on a tree
Then they dried me, fried me
Made a coffee bean of me


Photo credit: markmiller from morguefile.com

Little floppy…

Yep, there’s a reason why that little floppy disk is at the top of the Word document and, guess what?  I forgot to click it.

Two weeks ago I’d a first draft of a flash fiction piece.  I then did a second draft, and dare I say it, an improved draft.  Today, 2 days after a spill on the motorbike and my ankle ligaments somewhat done-in, a storm and torrential rain raging over Lugano, I decided it would be the perfect day to give the second draft a look… a bit difficult when I didn’t click that little floppy disk at the top last time round.  My memory is not THAT good, now I’m darned if I can remember.

Save, save and save again!

Now I wonder if a gin & tonic will help…?