What does the aching divorcée writer living in Italy do on a public holiday? She provides sunny weather, a good humous (What is this made of again? Did you say chick peas?), cherries from the tree, comfortable woven plastic IKEA chairs.. and feeds her ex-husband's siblings and offspring. Very extended family.
Yesterday being La giornata della Repubblica all activity (except my neighour on a tractor spraying copper sulphate on his vineyards in anticipation of further rain dammit) ground to a halt and our President Sig. Giorgio Napolitano (whose dishes I washed while a skinny unmarried au pair on the island of Stromboli and don't expect this to be the only reference to my only political experience in Italy) gave his regular speech which I listened to while out buying petrol.
But back to publishing. While my lovely book waits for further attention and my life eddies on into springtime - love and shoes, or shoes and love? - I have had a short story accepted by TheViewFromHere (seems bursting with good energy) and another to be cropped for a prestigious magazine I can't mention until it's in the bag.
I am blooming.
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