Archive April 2012

Losing your hands in your pockets 1

Dear Bradshaw,

Before going to bed, while washing a wine glass in the sink, I noticed two splotches like cockroaches on the wall near the stove. Upon closer inspection, I realized they were clumps of potatoes. Yes, we’d had potatoes for dinner, but Francesca had already cleaned the kitchen. In fact, the dishwasher was humming through its cycle. How she had missed those potatoes would have been a mystery if it had been anyone else, but Francesca is… well, particular. continue reading »

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Typical Italian fashion 2

Dear Bradshaw,

I had crossed Ponte Garibaldi and was five steps across Via Lungotevere Raffaello Sanzio when the light turned red and though I’d usually have dashed across anyway there were police officers directing traffic so I returned to the curb.

A woman standing as stiff and erect as a stop sign was watching me. As I went to stand next to her, she puffed her cheeks, shook her head, and said, “Anyway, the light was red.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said, stuffing my hands in my pockets, “but this is Rome, after all.” continue reading »

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Whoa! Yikes! Gadzooks! 1

Dear Bradshaw,

As you know, many of my private students are professionals (doctors, politicians, business executives). Their time is precious and, of course, I work hard to respect that. For this reason, I’m often forced to chase after buses and trams and to sprint for the metro. continue reading »

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