Ah.. Phone calls...!

My father called me tonight to talk about the latest political events in Italy. Apparently the majority of the Italian new generation voted for a comedian, considered the loudest - figuratively and not, as he does always shout - alternative political voice. For this reason, all newspapers are now recalling '68 movements and youth revolution, almost predicting a new one in Italy. Eventually, I believe this is not going to happen as our new generations' arses are way too lazy.

Moving on with the conversation I told him I am not happy at work and that I am looking for the job I really want to do, but there are many difficulties, bla bla bla, bring boring boring....

As always, he started with one of his anecdotes.

He had just completed his military service when he went home and he was jobless. My grandparents owned a small bakery at that time. His prospects were either delivering bottles of water door to door or working in one of the local factories. HE felt like this just wasn't enough for him. One evening, my grandfather went back home and told him a friend was looking for sales representatives. My dad started dreaming about driving around Italy on a nice car straight away.

Once at the job interview, the employer told him upfront this job would change his life, that he wouldn't be able to have dinner at home for 5 days a week and that the job was in Foggia (South of Italy, 6 or 7 hours drive away). "Did you make me come here to hire me or not? Because my intention is to get this job." my dad's answer was. And he got the job. He was really excited.

He went home to tell the good news but my grandfather wasn't that happy: "Foggia???? Where is Foggia???". He was in the back of the bakery making bread, quickly took the map out of a drawer and spread it on the table. "No you won't go! It's too far away! You know we could always provide for you. You'll come home for dinner!".

The job in Foggia didn't succeed anyway - I'm not sure why. Therefore, he got offered Tuscany. The job was exactly the same: he would leave on a Monday morning and come back on a Saturday afternoon.. but Tuscany is much closer than Foggia. This time my grandfather said it was fine.

We talked on the phone for one and a half hour. I even argued with him because he never lets me speak and he can never "understand" my reality as he mainly thinks statistically. Honestly, we just have huge communication issues. That phone call was so hard for me I've got way too much adrenaline in my body now and I can't sleep. However, eventually, he made me smile. Before hanging up he said: "We are a weird family but it's fine because we can get to grow our own tomatoes, I can come to London if I want to, you're getting cranky because you have a world to conquer.. It's good.. Because we can get to choose."

I miss my dad :)

We all must do our part

Some of my best friends came to visit me and spend New Year's Eve here in London. I remember going to Canary Wharf with them one day as they were curious to see it. We had a nice walk on the riverside. It was freezing but streets were full with people jogging, hopeful to burn all calories swallowed over the previous two weeks. We all thought they were crazy.

Eventually we got lost and decided to head towards the nearest DLR station - Limehouse. We walked through a very charming neighborhood, where very modern building and old fascinating boats contrasted amazingly on the canal. While walking beside a small dam, we noticed the stagnant water was full of rubbish coming from the Thames. One of my friends took a picture, almost joking about it. I regret not taking one. I would have loved to show you the shameful view. Therefore,  I will share a shocking video -most of you might have seen it already- so that we can all understand why it is so important not to through any waste into the sea - or river. 

Last Saturday Thames21 organised a Thames Foreshore Clean-Up and participants were rewarded with cut-price entry to the Ansel Adams Photography: from the Mountains to the Sea. For those of you who are interested, check out their calendar, it's pretty full of events.

How nice are you?

Every time I go home I find out my mum recycles some new items. Last time it was glass bottles' caps. 

My parents live in a very small village in the middle of nowhere. It's called Campagnola Emilia. It is absolutely charming - well, I can say it now after being away for three years, as before escaping all I was seeing can be described just as "endless fields full of mosquitos and covered in fog". Not one of the most inviting pictures. However, there is always a time -that time- in which you go home and you realise your perception has changed. The air is different. Colours are more vibrant. Fields are vast and full of life. And for the first time after a long long time you notice the mountains peeping out from the mist, over there.

Now the reason why I am writing this post is that I had actually forgotten about the basics, the simple things, those ones we tend to leave on the side unless we stumble upon them. 

My mom taught me the importance of recycling. But let me put this straight: I am not here to give you a moral lesson. To be honest, I have not recycled anything in three years. Why? ..Laziness? Complicated? I live in a frenetic city? No space in the kitchen? Two flatmates who don't give a damn about anything? Excuses. 

London is one of the most advanced and fast-paced cities in the world. Anything is possible here. However, somehow, or at least as far as I'm concerned, Campagnola beats London. We need something to remind us about the basics.

This is a nice list of recyclable items. Definitely a good start. It does not say yoghurt pots though. My mom recycles them. Or alternatively, you can use them for your homemade pesto. The small ones are perfect, they perfectly fit in the freezer and are good for two or three portions. 

Enjoy!

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