Uffff....

When Three Paw lived in Istanbul and had moved into the apartment with me, she used to love standing with her head out the window sniffing the air. She would point her nose to the sun and I could hear her taking long snifts that went deep into her lungs. I saw her doing it in the garden the other day. I wonder if she was trying to catch a sea breeze.
What I hope is that she didn't catch the smell of open drain! Yes, my friends, the rain of life muck continues to fall on me with relentless abandon. You see all Easter weekend I had no functioning toilet and then finally when  the plumber came to fix it he promptly broke the tiles around  the drain outside so now I have a fly-infested hole on my terrace. It will be fixed - Italian time, I suppose - but it just seems never ending. The worst part is that I have to pay the plumber now. My landlord has agreed to cover half the costs but she said to take it out of my next rent. I appreciate her offer to go halves but when you are on a serious cash-flow problem it is hard to do things this way. Now the budget I had to last for three weeks has been reduced by two thirds to an almost negligible amount. It is official, I cannot afford to live here. I don't mean in my particular house, it is actually a good deal. I just mean in general. I need to buy a tent and set up in a field somewhere until I stop hemorrhaging money I don't even have. Of course, this is not going to happen while Three Paw and I are on her journey but even that aside, living here is a disaster that has no visible end. Not that anywhere else would probably be much better. Not as an ESL teacher anyway. Is it time to consider Saudi Arabia? Surely not yet. I would like to change careers but what could I do? I would like to publish my novel but that is in no man's land right now. I would like to go to bed just one night without feeling panic-stricken and worried about everything.

Uff, sorry, rant over.  I know that by having a roof over my head and pasta in my cupboard I really am in the fortunate percentage of the world. I really do understand this. One look at the television and the plight of Syrian children is more than enough to give me perspective.

But it is still hard. Am I allowed to admit that, despite the world's problems? I think I need to acknowledge this struggle instead of sweeping it under the carpet or trivializing it somehow.

But let's end this cathartic outpouring with an amusing picture of my snooping neighbour!!

I don't actually think that he is interested in me. I think it is Three Paw's yoga poses that enthrall him more.

Or her games of peek-a-boo!!

See, I feel better already.

Trifecta of Awful

I feel like the trifecta of awful is now complete: Brexit, Trump and now the Turkish Referendum. It was such a ride yesterday too. Watching it all unfold, chatting with friends in Turkey and Germany as the tide seem to be changing towards the NO vote. Hoping with each count it would push us over the edge. And then the silence as we all fell away to deal with the result in our own private ways. A friend posted a video of people banging pots in Kurtulus  where I used to live.  I love this Turkish practice of banging pots in peaceful protest. I remember back during Gezi Park, every night the sloping streets would fill with the sound of clanging metal; Three Paw lounging on the street while the police jack-boot marched around her.

This is a terrible result. I am growing tired of fundamental change being thrust onto citizens with margins of 1-3%. It is an insanity. In real terms one can honestly say about half the voters said YES and half said NO and this does not a mandate make. Especially one as sweeping as this. When Governments want to enforce radical change on their people, the bar should be higher, 60 % even 70%. It should be convincing, it should show a clear will of the people. Not a limp over the finish line with not a single major metropolis voting in favour of it either. I feel devastated for Turkey and for all my Turkish friends who have watched their country being dismantled by the blind ambition of one man.

Yes, the people spoke yesterday but what they said was they were divided, that there was no overwhelming desire for change. That they were uncertain, they are polarised, they are not unified.

ùzgùnùm 

Hayir

In case you are wondering that is a 'NO' from me and this wonderful lady regarding the Turkish referendum.

Survivor no matter what

Three Paw had her second round of chemo this week. This time she was lavished with attention by Alberto and another lovely vet trainee. I overheard Alberto explaining to this trainee in Italian how Three Paw was a seven year survivor of cancer and you should have seen the look of respect in the man's face. It was a timely reminder to me that she is a survivor no matter what. She has already beaten the disease by having this amazing, colourful life; for toughing it on the streets before retiring among olive trees. I need to tell myself this whenever I feel sad.

Unfortunately she has not tolerated this round as well as the last. Her spirits are fine, she still explores and ambles and cuddles up to me in bed, which are crucial indicators of life quality for me, but she has lost her appetite which I find incredibly vexing. Actually she is always interested when I bring her food but she takes one look at it and pulls a face of disgust. I suspect she has nausea ( which is a common side effect for cats)  but it has been five days now and I find it hard to watch. She is at least eating little offerings and drinking lots of water. I am feeding her with a syringe though to keep her liver healthy. She doesn't struggle too much actually because I think she likes the feeling of food in her stomach, She just cannot face the smell, the taste or the chewing. She will see Alberto again next Wednesday but I hope before then she will have begun to improve.

Other than this she seems very content.

On another even more distressing note, I find myself without words regarding what is happening in Syria. I feel like the whole world is complicit somehow. All of us sitting back and watching it unfold from our collective armchairs. The solution though? Certainly not the Orange One sending out some of his war toys. The situation is simply too sad and simply cannot be sustained. Assad has to go but how is the greater problem. 

Fallen Star

This is my favourite door in the village. I wonder who lives behind it - a Tuscan imp, a mermaid who spawned land-legs, a fallen star. One day I will knock on its door and see what mythical creature appears.

In the meantime I shall continue smiling at it every time I walk to work. It takes me about 50 minutes to walk to the train station from home so I am always very grateful for little distractions such as this on the way.

My other favourite spot is along the goat path down the hill. The fireflies will be out soon and I do so love walking among them.

We go for our second round of chemotherapy tomorrow. I say 'we' because even though she has the therapy I am the one with all the anxiety. She takes it all in her stride...and she gets to see Alberto,  Me..I pace and fret and make deals with God.

We passed a quiet weekend in the garden, lying amongst daisies. You never know how the day will end.

29 March

The 29th of March is always a mixed bag of joy and sorrow for me. In 2008 I lost my Ambrose on this date and in 2010 I passed the evening with a person, the repercussions of whom I still feel in my life today. Which one represents the joy and where the sorrow lies depends on how full my wine glass is, I find.

Today has passed quietly and without incident though.  Well aside from Brexit I suppose which has saddened me a great deal. I guess this day continues with its tradition of great emotion after all.

But Three Paw is still with me and the sky is a cotton-candy blue.

Leonardo Da Poggibonsi

Last week there was a day that was so crystal clear the snow-capped mountains in the distance looked like they had been cut into the sky with precision glass. I could even see them from the window of my classroom which I had never seen before. I felt like I was on some American prairie with Brokeback Mountain watching on from a distance. I even glanced out the window from time to time praying for a couple of gay cowboys to ride on past. Alas, no such luck - the only past I encountered was the past perfect.

Anyway the next day a summery haze fell upon the hills of Vinci and I think perhaps it may be the last glimpse of those mountains I will see for a while. The Vinci to which I refer is, of course, the birthplace of Leonardo.  Lucky he was born there I say and not some of the other places around here like Poggibonsi. I cannot imagine Leonardo Da Poggibonsi garnering the same level of respect.

I visited Vinci last summer with my folks. It is a sleepy little town with an interesting museum and a lovely vista out over the hills. I could even make out San Minitao if I squinted hard enough. Quite a few of my students come from around those hills, such a magical place to be raised I think.

Ha! You didn't think I would finish a blog entry without mentioning Three Paw. She is doing great. I mean for someone who has just had chemo and has a nasty Nick Nolte on her leg. In fact the swelling on her leg has gone down and she is walking much better so I think Nick is feeling the pinch a bit. I was told to expect a couple of days of anorexia from her but she has been eating like a little furry star. She has a different relationship to food than other cats who were born into privilege. She really does appreciate its arrival and its need to be consumed. It doesn't mean she always eats an awful lot but she engages with it and makes a purring 'rar rar' sound as she eats.

Pirate meanwhile has been climbing walls and trees as part of her spring fling!

Chemo with da boyfriend

Three Paw and her Sicilian date, Alberto

Yesterday morning, early, Three Paw climbed on to my chest and sat purring into my face; Pirate lay with her head against my ear and we were in a moment of bliss. After our little purr circle, Three Paw and I hopped on a train to Florence so she could start her chemotherapy. When I left her she was kneading my  jumper and purring to Alberto, her boyfriend vet.

That cat teaches me more about being zen than any handbook ever could.

Later I had a mail from Alberto telling me the chemo had finished, that she hadn't needed sedation (she fancies him you see) and that she was doing fine. It made the conjugation of verbs at work much easier I can tell you.

Unfortunately she had to stay the night at the vet hospital because I didn't finish work until 8.30 pm. The ironic thing is the night in hospital  actually cost me more than I earned by staying at work but when you are a teacher it is difficult to cancel classes and I didn't want to cause the school any bother.

I stayed in Florence with a colleague and we both slept well and deeply. As my colleague said sometimes you just need to have another person near you.

I collected Three Paw in the morning, still purring, and we took the train back to San Miniato. She got so many bellissimas on the train I am beginning to think she secretly enjoys the jaunts into Florence. When she lived in Turkey she used to spend her days lounging on the pavement lapping up cok guzels from all the passersby. I suspect my little madame revels in adoration.

Back in her street days...working that pose

Now she is home, she even obliged me with some snacking which is a great sign.

Now in her crib

WARNING: I suspect my blog is going to be a little Three Paw heavy over these coming weeks but I want to honour her journey and what an amazing companion she is.