And as usual, towards the end of September, I get that call. The call from Rome. It is almost paradoxical, funny, ridiculous But she calls me everytime, for October, she tells me to come back to her in the month when I was born. She is particularly beautiful at that time, I am sure, you see, that is why she wants me to see her then. She calls me every year, without fail. That means, I am forever sad at this time of year, cause it just so happens that there is always a very good reason why it is just impossible for me to spend my birthday in my birthcity.
Once a guy who seemed to be able to do anything said ok I'll take you. I couldn't believe it but uhm, we went on his bloody Porsche so we shot to Rome at an average of 260 kilometres per hour, we had a quick walk in the shopping road where he bought himself an extremely expensive hat, we had lunch somehwre where he would not stop talking about his ex-girlfriend, and finally dinner in another place where he could meet long lost friends and i could, well, shut up. My sole revenge was to take him look for tarot cards and had him buy me a 200 euro worth deck of Salvador Dali's Tarot. Ah yes, men.
I still get that call, perhaps this year sooner than usual cause last night I had a priest in my house, and it was me who called him in. And he was filling in a form and asking me whether I had been baptized and I said I'm sure they did it in Rome, you know, while we were there. You see, I decided i will get married in his church, Church of England, not Catholic. This choice is something I would like to get into more at some point, but I am so happy and excited and speaking with him was brilliant and now it feels kind of "realer". Now what we'll need to sort out is whether we can do church AND Harewood ceremony, whether people will just miss the ceremony but have a great time at Harewood, or whether poeple can be brought all the way here, to our local church, for the ceremony and THEN go to harewood. We'll have to see. Any advice in the meantime go ahead.
What else.
Ah yes.
In the morning, outside Paolo's office, we always meet this couple. She is tall, thin, elegant, shoulder lenght wavey white hair with a pert white leather jacket and straight white trousers. She must be in her seventies. He is a round fella, with round glasses, a round hat and walks hand in hand with her. She has one hand in his hand and one hand in her pocket. He has one hand in her hand and one hand usually carrying something, a letter or a newspaper. he walks as though he is the jolliest, proudest, luckiest man on earth. he walks with a big smile, open legs, always cheerful. She is too, but more elegantly if course. They are the sunshine that is otherwise missing in this grey grey rainy land. They are so beautiful and happy. They are so out of time and out of place, that area is just not one to stroll in, there are only factories and ofices... and yet, there they go. So proud he is, so in love they are, and they walk hand in hand with a merry bounce in their step. They make my day every time I drive Paolo to work.
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