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Cards and Christmas cards

going crazy here and go crazy for Christmas greeting cards. I've got two already received from two of my colleagues, and certainly in the weeks before Christmas I receive it again (I have many colleagues). The postcards, not just cards, they are a real tradition / practice English. There are all kinds and for all ricorennze good and bad alike. There are those for birthdays, wedding anniversaries, for births, for my grandfather, grandmother, great grandmother, great-grandfather, the sister-in-law, his father, the mother-in-law, for the first appointment, when you lose the job, when you change jobs, for when you retire, for when you're in hospital, for when you're out of the hospital, when you're on bad peridodo of your life to the dead and many, many other situations.

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still something on my work ...

My Kitchen porter work is that, literally translated, means the carrier / kitchen porter. In Italy more or less corresponds to the dishwasher. My immediate boss is the head cook, in my case the head cook, as is a woman. All our staff are responsible to the manager. Pointed out: in Italy, usually, when you consider the word "manager" we immediately think of an individual in a suit and tie, sitting at a desk with swivel chair, participating in meetings decisive for the fate of the and yells to the right and left against persons (Fantozzi docet). In England, however, the manager is simply one who deals with the management of a sector and those who work inside. My boss, so to speak, when the table is full you put the white coat and goes to fry chips like a simple member of staff. The sector in which they are used is the catering services, ie catering, or as the means Garzanti, supply of foods and beverages. My duties are: to distribute food and drinks inside the college, manage and arrange the warehouse, clean pots, fryers, ovens and other kitchen equipment, clean and refill the vending machines and keep the kitchen clean and tidy .... miiiii nice job of that shit!

straoridnaria The main thing is that to do my job, in addition to requiring experience in catering, be able to communicate with customers, be elegant and clean, we need to have some sense of humor. Maybe sometimes I entertain my colleagues with jokes or maybe vestrimi cloun and propose some numbers from the circus with the pots ...

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Darlingnismo

After Darwin and Darwinism, the British also have a "darlingnismo. The darlingnismo is a school of thought according to which, in an interaction between two or more human beings, we must exchange sickly sweet words.

The darlingnismo obviously does not exist, but who has lived or lives here understands what I mean. The English have a habit to turn to other people in the most affectionate way possible, which are absolutely incomprehensible for an Italian: darling (expensive), love (love), or sweety sweetness (sweetness). At work, for example, my colleagues, as well as to thank me for every mimic shit I do, call me in the sweetest way possible. Most of the names was reached last week when a colleague of mine called me, and continues to do so, chicken (chicken).

I thought we are in the fruit or it gets worse?

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Ok will try again

try again to resume the reins of this blog know that this decision, of course, will not change the fate of the world. What I miss in this period is the time to sit in front of the PC, not only to post, but more than anything else, to follow my favorite blogs in the list on the right. From Monday to Friday working high prestige and in the evening when I come back I just want to take a shower, spending time with my girlfriend and, of course, eating the sacred holy Italian food cooked with the trappings of the school in Apulia. During the weekend, however, try to relax, being outdoors and, fundamentally, enjoying the good times with my friends, and appears commara respectively.

If I think of my work these days I am reminded of the TLC song "No Scrubs" (in the song "scrub" means lazy, but means to scrub brush, wash, clean thoroughly, namely degrease) the only difference that I "Yes scrub every day. The shocking thing is that my colleagues have the courage to ask, maybe while I'm Scrubb a deep fryer or frying the hamburger grills where, if I like this work (Do you still enjoy this work, gaaabriellll?). These are questions to be done! Logically, the answer is "Yes", not because they are a Paraculo, but because if a negative answer There are evil. Think about that last week while I was helping a colleague of mine in a clean fatt'apposta hell to cook burgers always the same, she looks at me and says, "you know I love Gabriel Scrubb?". I thought he was joking because he was passed over an hour from now when you Scrubb in the company of chemicals by smell terrific, I look at it and I smile like "I know that we are doing the butt, but we are paid why then ....". She, almost resentfully, says: "No, no, I really like grease." Panic ... they are crazy or I'm crazy. I understand the need to see the positive side in all things, I understand that doing things against his will is worse, but to say that you like Scrubb is not tolerable.

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was discussed long ago about why the boys (I mean men) have, especially during adolescence, this almost compulsive obsession to draw "prick" the diaries, on the dusty car windshields, on the walls, just about anywhere. I remember once when I went to school, entering class in the first hour we found walls full of these "cocks" of all shapes and sizes and religion professor forced us to delete them one by one with the rubber. Of course we did not find an answer to explain this form of tribal art. I tried to figure out if even the English boys do the same, but, apparently, there is no trace of this ritual ... who knows ...

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Yes, I was promoted! I am no longer a simple dish, but now I am "Catering Assistant". They are responsible for the buffet, the vending machines of crisps ... .. and of course responsible for the washing of pots! A step ahead!

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As I said to White, in his reply to a comment, it's been a while that I'm working, finally. After a long search, I found a job as a porter Kitchen (dishwasher all do) in a school canteen. You work like crazy all day scraping pots, washing dishes and cutlery, carrying trolleys full of pots and pans and cleaning the table dirty with mayonnaise, mustard and ketchup. All in all I'm not complaining: guadango my nest egg, I keep busy and I have a chance to speak in English (minimum seen the pace of work). I'm also trying to make the leap to become a catering assistant, letting me take ... hopefully good. Obviously the time for the rest also decreases as the time for the blog, so instead of less and less around among my favorite blogs.

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C ome times during my lunch break I head to the bathroom to perform my duties tract, to finish my last hours in quiet. Also this Friday, the ceremony has taken place. I head to the bathroom, I open the door and point my favorite urinal (usually the last one right next to the wall, in order to create a fake privacy), when a boy / man (can not remember) who had just finished his functions turns around and looking at me: "Are you okay?" For a moment I wonder, "What ca_ _o wants this from me" and almost automatically say, "Fine." He, like usual exchange of greetings in the bathroom while he goes away I also said, "Bye" and I, in disbelief, not the answer. What is even more absurd is when I described the episode to my friend, that 'England attended a lot longer than me, told me that it is not something unusual, even to him has happened that someone asked him how he was during the completion.

Okay education, be polite, but here it seems to me an exaggeration ...

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Question

Once a friend of mine while we were snookered in traffic and no talking in the car, he decided to break the silence by proposing this question: do you think there may be a director blind? No one had the courage to respond, but after a few months came the film "Hollywood Ending Woody Allen who told the story of a director went blind.
Is it possible?

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E 'come for me and Antonella's time to have a house all to ourselves. Trasclocheremo last Saturday afternoon in our little apartment and our lasciaremo hostfamily, fish and chips, chicken with potatoes, mice under sofas and who on and so forth!

I can not wait to taste the possibility of packing and unpacking as I go and when I go to turn in his underwear for home without fear of creating "scandals" or various embarrassments, return to the Italian cuisine and genuine invite anyone I please and at any time of day ... so in a word, freedom.

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What you see in the FOTA is a scooter very popular here in England. E 'used predominantly by older people, to roam far and wide throughout the city, thereby facilitating their mobility.

In Italy I of these scooters I've never seen one and it does not surprise me at all, as it would be impossible utillizzarli. Here, each platform has a ramp and no one would dream of parking overlooked, the crosswalks are met in an almost maniacal, supermarket shelves are so wide enough to pass these scooters and every store is equipped with ramps or other facilities for the physically handicapped.

Also here the elderly in and out of banks and placed with no fear, I never saw my grandmother going to collect the pension is not accompanied by my father.

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Question

I always wondered why the last one goes to the bathroom and ends up toilet paper, not only does not take the roll again, but does not warn even the next user, who notices the lack of late, is not that swearing in every language in the world?


PS: This question comes from the experience in years and years of sharing bathrooms and "conquilininaggio.

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It 's all the fault of global warming !

This morning I came across an article in The Independent (a newspaper not a tabloid seriously) with the following title "Now climate change is threatening the traditional cottage garden" . The article puts warn British citizens to the fact that climate change due to global warming, are threatening the life of the classic English garden at home and that, therefore, in the future will find themselves in the garden of the British plants typical of Mediterranean climates. On the contrary we will be hosting the Mediterranean short-deserts and cactus!

The fact is that it seems that the British have only noticed the global warming this summer, when temperatures were the highest ever registarte for nearly a century now. Now I do not want in any way underestimate the problem, but make it a panacea for all ills. Three months sflogliando turning on the tv or newspapers, do not talk about anything else. Also I find it rather talk about selfish only when one is struck at first (but this is a classic), and as we know global warming is a global phenomenon that has already done a lot of damage ... I think for example in New Orleans.

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Weather smarter!

premise that I do not like much about temperatures, rain, showers and feel discomfort when being used for introddurre a conversation. I usually have so much shit to say and tell you that I do not need the gimmick weather.

Since I live in England now and then I'm going to peek at this site to know the time waiting for me during the week. I must admit that in most cases, these meteorologists are forecasting an excel and then you can trust. But when the mistakes start to change the symbols to their liking.

Example: if the night before on Saturday gave rain, and then you wake up on Saturday morning with the sun, they take away the symbol of rain and bring the sun. You will tell me there is nothing wrong with that? Well, it was estimated that the but everyone can do it: just look out the window in the morning to see the weather and you're done!

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About stereotypes and prejudices ....

stereotypes that there are saddled usually are: messy, lazy, rowdy, eat pasta, eat pizza, but the most annoying, at least for the Italians with the brain in his head, is mafia. It 'no use fooling the Mafia exists, unfortunately, is a reality and mentality of our country difficult to uprooted us and with which we must deal every day.

But what I noticed living here in England is that the Italian restaurants and pizzerias use the Mafia, its icons and characters from the films that made it famous as symbols of Italy. Then find pizza godfather, images that recall the mob in Sicily and, last but not least, once in a pizza parlor I found a poster that says this pizza is "an honorary member of the Italian Mafia."

Well I would say that some of our compatriots abroad is not a good advertisement to Italy if you also consider that these compatriots have, for obvious reasons, more contacts with the locals. Ma ..

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Ris, Patan, and k'coz coz ... we were almost orgasm!

For four days my language and my tastes have finally taken effect.

Saturday night we went to eat in pubs in Cockington, a park close to Torquay, where the food is luxurious, all served with various sauces and Salsette, among them being the mustard Djion.

Sunday Francesca has delighted us with potato dumplings and other delicacies, all exceedingly good.

Monday I ate ravioli with sauce and mozzarella and yesterday we reached an apotheosis with rice, potatoes, mussels and zucchini.

can not imagine how satisfying cooking (actually prepared Antonella, I just grated cheese), a typical dish from Puglia to more than 2000 km away. Obviously the pot has been re-arranged, considering the ingredients that can be found in English soil. Mussels, therefore, were not those of Taranto, but they were frozen, the cheese was not cheese, but the Cedda, the oil was not to Andria, but an oil extra virgin of the Somerfield supermarket. What counts though is the end result and I can assure you that it was delicious!

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E 'absolutely necessary to lose his sight when he wants to leave a commnento?

I think not!

So I understand that, for various spammini eviatare spam, you must enter this option the "magic phrase" but I do not understand why in addition to writing the "magic phrase" I have to decipher it.

two seemingly double v v, which appear to the i, m which are instead attacking a r a n (as in the picture). They want us to become astigmatic, presbyopic or Presbyterians. What is even more absurd is that there are no roads in between, or are totally incomprehensible or letters are very clear (as in the image below), although some Stortini will be the artist's touch!

But okay, good weekend to all.

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Cask of life in Torquay!

Sunday afternoon there was the exhibition of the red arrows, or tricolor arrows of Her Majesty. The show did not last long, but it was nice and intense. Maneuvers were impressive and colorful trails draw circles, swirls and other figures. The planes are almost touching each other, leaving the audience breathless. Truly luxurious. The first thing I thought was the courage that must have the drivers and how confident we should be together.

When the show is over, people are diligently vanished into the house, no one stopped to get ice cream, a cup of tea a coffee ... nothing. As if the show ended, ended the evening! The same thing happened Monday night. After watching the fireworks, they all disappeared again, neither a comment nor a chat ... at home.

Another curious thing is that each family or group of friends had his own space and no one was too attached to his neighbor. In short, do not jostle each other like we do!

The photo has taken fiordizucca, you can see more here .

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A quarter of a century ago I had to be born in that Trani. I, like all children, were brought by the stork, who left me, wrapped in a clean white sheet on the chimney of the house. Logically on the roof of my parents and I could see I was up there for three days. A welcome me into the world, as always, it was a good pigeon Chicago on me without restraint, closely followed by the seagull. The second day I was struck by lightning, unfortunately I became a super hero, but I knew that certain things only happen in movies. The third day my father left the house he looked up and finally noticed my presence. He returned home and called my mother, who began complaining about the delay with which the carrier I had delivered. My father got a ladder and took me home. My first word was not Mom, but "luxury". As soon as I stopped I started to speak not more, who knows me should know. Since I discovered the existence of the sock, I did not loose more, if I could I'd use them even to the sea.

When my father grew older I give myself the mythical unlimited travel card of the State railway, with which I could unlimited travel on Italian territory and wanted abroad. I could tell because today, unfortunately, the card expires and this time forever. How sad, I could not even get me on the last lap FS, which are seen here in Torquay. I will not pay train!

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I found out that August is a holiday only in Italy, while in the rest of the world apparently is a day like any other. In the rest of the world there is also the England and, indeed, July 15th I was in college to pursue a course of six hours non-stop about how to organize a presentation. During the lunch break an Englishman to break the ice, I asked: "Do you like the kitchen inlgese? I looked at it, I smile and, of course, did not answer. Do you think a question to ask an Italian. Tell me about the time the World Cup, Rome, Florence, Venice (these three cities are usually very good to start a conversation) but do not ask for food or rather not do it for three months with those who only eat chicken and potatoes and that if it were not for neighbors , the funeral has already done its language. But it must be said that the boy, ultimately, was honest, because it has given the answer by himself, saying that the best Indian restaurants in England are. If he says so!

The photo has nothing to do, but because I liked I decided to post it anyway. Documenta clearly perennially sunny climate and almost fall we got at least a month abbonante.

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I leave Perugia pigeons and I find myself in Torquay, or rather, the entire region of Devon gulls.

am a lover of animals, but just can not seem to love these two. This, however, must be reciporca, since the first walk in Torquay gulls have had the wonderful idea to give me their welcome: a nice cacatone jacket on again, with its indelible stain after repeated washings and still there. The thing was repeated some time ago, but this time they focused directly on my head. The scary thing is that these gulls are of impressive size (in Trani we are, but are much smaller), as well as exaggerated in size are the crap they do. To say nothing of that combine the day of collection of waste. Destroy all the envelopes to feed, leaving the streets dirty and full of leftover food. To make matters worse in the evening and the morning (while you're still blessed resting in bed) sing. So if he was a gentle and harmonious chirping there would have been pretty good, but they emit sounds kind enervated child who tries his hand for the first time with a trumpet.

I am in the throes of a real phobia of seagulls. Always walk with your head up and avoid all places where there are too, then stay at home, as they are everywhere.

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Again churches!

But this time to show you this amazing font of information with the adjacent sign for believers thirsty. Try magine the same thing in an Italian church ... Sacrilege!

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Some settiamana ago we were with Robert and Francesca in Somerset and in particular, in a town called Glastonbury, became famous for a music festival held every year in the summer. The city is very nice looking very new age. At the end of the day, before returning to Torquay, we decided to visit the ruins of Glastonbury Abbey ( Glastonbury Abbey), one of the oldest religious institutions of the islands Brit. A beautiful place surrounded with streams, ponds with lotus flowers and gardens used by monks to cultivate their own vegetables and spices. Of all the Rivonia, the only remaining intact building in this great abbey is the abbot's kitchen. Once inside this great kitchen, my attention is captured by a large mirror placed at the center of the room. Now I walk to try to understand its usefulness and Ritov & I read the sign in the photo: "The mirror need to watch the lantern without having to stretch the tuocollo" Well say that exception, have placed a mirror so you can see the dome of the kitchen without having to bend the head.

* * * The sun is finalemte resurfaced in Torquay after a week of dark clouds and some shower (the English rain). Let's hope it lasts!

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It 's easy to find churches in England that no longer are and become something else. If the pictures are, in fact, of a notary's office with lots of signs, red carpet, carpet entrance and reception. In Plymouth, however, I came across a church adibitita bars, restaurants and city hall. One evening in Torquay I found a church turned into a ballroom (ovviamante smooth) complete with a DJ and punch served at the altar. Also in Torquay there is another Gothic church with the purple portal with rainbow edges on the front and there are scattered garlands. Very often they are also converted into apartments. From the thrills that a work of art can be a private good commercial betraying its nature and its original beauty. Can you imagine the Vatican into a mega luxury condominium with a luminescent insegana?

This also helps to impoverish the cultural aspect of a city, as it is impossible to visit all'nterno these buildings are altered, losing their sense of art. For me even more effect since I was born in the city of 100 churches, all of which are not actually visited, but at least had the good sense not to pay the pizza!

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When you wake in the morning to welcome and there is no sun, but, rather, carriers of dark rain clouds (as in photo), I feel the nostalgia of my homeland. The light, the sun and the heat of Puglia, especially during the summer, let me say, I'm ineguaiabili. You get up out of bed with energy, fun and a great desire to do something. This dark, however, puts a bit of sadness and anxiety, because, as you say good Roberto, attacks in England when the rain can go on for days. We say that this type of days, I'd already had to get used to, because I lived for 5 ½ years in Perugia, and there's rain, humidity and snow I've seen enough. The reality is that a Southerner never gets used to this type of climate and, in fact, all fellow expats in the north that I talk to complain about just that. In my city, Trani , summer not almost never rains when it rains and we always know that it will be for long.

I leave with some verses of the song of the south sound system "Me Basta Lu Sule," which explain better than me what is the sun for us people of the South:

quandu the Ca Azzi morning you and me 'to nfacci fenescia' nc'e 'na subitu what about the intra ecchi toi you Flesch and you Flesca tuttu giurnu Pecce lu' lu know about but we keep attornu bbete? Lu tou the core but there bbete sape? There is singing moi NCI criterion Ca ete lu sule ca giurnu every light you mena moi Ca ete lu sule lu sule Camina Ca ete ca nu pocu you always scarficia Ca ete lu sule lu quandu iciu preciu me is' strong boobies cautu immensu Ca quandu lu iciu alle origini mei pensu pensu ca l'estate mo rria pensu a n'alberu te ulia pensu puru a nna beddhra stria pensu ca la vita ete mia