I have a cunning plan.

While I was quaffing a rather nice glass of  red wine at the local bar, I spotted a leaflet advertising an English Summer Camp, the experience of losing their kids for one week cost the parents  the princely sum of €550.

Wine and chocolate food aids the brain cells


I will be honest, the summer camp leaflet and time table didn’t inspire me. As the smooth red wine stimulated my brain cells, I suddenly had a cunning plan. 

Maybe I could run an English Summer Camp

Camping English Style


Obviously I can’t guarantee the traditional English weather. 

I have an American friend who was an English teacher and more importantly she owns a vineyard, who better to team up with?

Over a cappuccino (I know it should have been a glass of wine) I told her about my cunning plan, I explained that I teach seven classes of kids ranging from six to eleven years of age. And if we talk to the parent we should have enough kids to fill the camp. I also mentioned the kids we could veto, for example the class clown in year 3 and little Marco who always has his finger buried up his nose to his first knuckle.

Marco the nose picker

My American friend disagreed, she said these are precisely the kids we should invite…

In the interest of research I sent a message to Linda Von Grady at Expat Eye on Germany to ask her opinion and she replied “Ha, why do you do these things to your self?” 

My only excuse is the wine motivated me.

So in a little over three and a half months, twenty two Italian nose picking kids will descend on a vineyard for 6 days and 6 nights in a hope to improve their English and have a great and spiffing time. 

And if we survive the encounter, another twenty two kids will arrive the following week.

I think I need a grappa. 

TNT Express Service arrrghhh!!!

TNT Express Service arrrghhh!!!

In the 10 years that I have lived in Italy, I have learnt a few things. These include my inability to learn Italian and the Italians inability to learn anything about customer service.

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Italian Customer Service

In 2013 I cried into my cappuccino with the Fedex Farce.  and of course you know about the fun and games with Mr Cretino and my driving licence.

I hate to tell you but TNT Express are as bad if not worse than Fedex. Mind you I have just found out they are now part of the same organisation run by David Binks their CEO. I did write to Mr Binks, but he didn’t reply to me nor did his organisation answer my questions.

So here we go… a little story book for you.

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I am sorry this is not as funny as my usual posts, but I am still a tad disappointed with TNT

All the best Pecora Nera

 

Man Flu and the Injection

A couple of months back, Mrs Sensible was poorly sick and dying and horrors upon horrors, she phoned the school and told them she would not be teaching the little chilblains how to tie their shoelaces and how not to pick their noses.

No picking your nose in Mrs Sensibles classroom

I was immediately despatched to the doctors to pick up a sick note and deliver it to the school admin. I tried to protest by saying “it can wait until you are better” and “it’s flipping cold outside”.

Mrs S was having none of it, She explained that by law a teacher must submit a sick note on her first day of sickness. I was of course scoffing, tutting and raising my eyes to heaven. What if you are really really sick and your husband isn’t at home? What then, eh! Eh!

My doctors English language skills are about as good as my Italian. We can say hello, goodbye and the rest we get by with miming and a mixture of English and Italian words. 

If I wasn’t so good at miming, I might have to learn the language.

The doctor wrote out the sick note and then produced a fully functioning needle and syringe, I winced as he mimed how to give the injection into the upper arm. He showed me it should be injected at a 90 deg angle, not a 45 deg or even 30 deg. 

The first thing I did was made sure I was not the intended recipient of the object of torture, once I realised it was for Mrs S I started to relax. 

“You like I give needle to Mrs Sensible”

“It’s not difficult, just make sure you get the angle correct”

“Today!”

“No, it is to protect her against influenza, give it to her when her cold has cleared up”

“Sorry I no understand, talk again”

“Next week”

“Oh, Ok”

The weapon of mass destruction

When I arrived home I explained to Mrs S about the syringe, I said she had to drop her knickers and bend over so I could give her the injection. 

It took her a full 2.5 milliseconds to realise my bedside manner was not fully kosher, she looked at me in her school marm way and asked what the doctor really said. 

I think I would make a great doctor

So I told her what the doc said, or at least what I thought he had said and then added that there was no way I was going to stab her with the needle, I don’t like receiving injections and I am not going to start giving them…

It has since been explained to me that there is always somebody in the family who is a dab hand at giving injections.

To be honest, Italy never ceases to amaze me.

PS, Why am I writing this now and not when it happened? Because I have man flu and the syringe is still sat in our fridge, waiting for an aunt or needle friendly neighbour to turn up for a coffee and DIY hospital treatment. 

A Freudian Slip

It is a cold Sunday Morning and I have no intention of getting out of bed, well not yet anyway. Mrs Sensible has already ventured downstairs and prepared mugs of tea and slices of buttered toast. 

As I drink my tea, I flick through the news and come across the following article, Rome bans gladiators and rickshaws (again) The article

A collection of gladiators


Pecora Nera

Did you know, that the gladiators and centurions in Rome earn around €12,000 a month standing around charging tourists for photos!

Mrs Sensible 

€12,000 a month! You could do that, you look like a radiato…. erh gladiator

A collection of radiators


I quickly looked at her, RADIATOR!!!, was that a Freudian slip?

Mrs Sensible (grinning)

No, no, I meant gladiator, really.

Pecora Nera

I’m going back to sleep.
Happy cold December Sunday to you all.

Citizenship quest (part 1)

I have officially started my quest for Italian Citizenship, the first step in what will no doubt be A Titanic Success, you might have noticed I have stole that particular phrase from Boris The Foreign Secretary, who regularly opens his mouth, to change feet.

The first step on my quest, was to write to Disclosure Scotland and request a copy of my criminal record. To be honest I am a little surprised at what they managed to drag up.But at least they earned their £25.00

disclosure-pecora-nera-copy

I wonder if Sal has started her application? We were going to race each other.

Next Step, finding things like marriage certificates and birth certificates….

How to cook spaghetti bolognese

How to cook spaghetti bolognese

I know a couple of you follow this blog in the hope of reading one of Mrs Sensible’s authentic Sicilian recipes,  not wanting to disappoint you I have decided to create the Pecora Nera Home Cooking Channel. 

Before you try the recipe I did try it on little Mario to see what he thought and his initial thoughts were,

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Please let Mrs Sensible cook next time

And Marco said

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I’m sure he didn’t follow the recipe properly

So here is a link to my latest video from Pecora Nera’s home cooking channel.

For Christmas I will upload ‘ How to prepare a traditional Christmas Lunch

 

 

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Christmas Lunch in a can

I was going to upload a picture of a whole Chicken in a Can, but it made me feel a little queezy and I don’t want to put you off my Spaghetti Bolognese recipe.

By Jove, we can’t have that

It would appear Theresa May, our beloved Prime Minister has decided to name herself Mrs Sensible.


Mrs Sensible and I are suffering from shock, our initial thoughts are, can we claim royalties from her and secondly how can anyone who is working for Brexit be considered ‘Sensible’

My application for Italian citizenship is moving very slowly and not necessarily in the right direction

Ooh I have loads to tell you, but at the moment I am sat in the garden waiting for Mario the woodman to arrive with our winter wood.


Audrey (our latest workaway) looking with apprehension as Mario loads his waggon