It’s a funny sort of day, Thursday: not at the beginning of the week, like Monday, when we all feel justified in grumbling about returning to work, not like Tuesday, when we can at least convince ourselves that we are getting into the swing of things; and certainly not like Wednesday, when we can congratulate ourselves on getting half-way through the week. And, of course, it cannot compete with Friday, when everybody is demob-happy. No, none of these; just Thursday, stuck where it is.
Even the name, in English, sounds dull: “Thor’s Day”, making one imagine bad weather. At least the Romance languages have named it after Jupiter or Jove, the chief deity , which sounds more exciting.
Perhaps it is the thought of distant rumbles of thunder that caused me to associate Thursdays with unlucky events: I was a bit of a goody-goody at school, you see, and got told off at primary school for the very first time on a Thursday! When I was younger still, Thursday was Rag, Tag and Bobtail day on the BBC’s Watch with Mother ; now, no offence to those dear rabbits, but they were rather boring! On a Monday you could get irritated at being patronised by Patricia Driscoll and her endless Picture Book and on Fridays there were the delightful Woodentops [just like The Archers, but for children, really!]
So what, then, of Thursdays in Sicily? Sackerson observed in the comments the other day that we have a “hard life” down here in Sicily and I can see that some of you may think I have the “life of Riley”: yet my life, and James’s, are difficult in ways that many of you may not imagine, for who among us can really envisage another person’s day to day life?
Well, Thursday being Thursday, I did a job I have been putting off for some time and wrote to a UK banking institution. [I am in deep sympathy with Posh Totty here.] Then, as antidote to this horrible task, James and I meandred to the Altro Posto, where we had the delicious fruit and ice cream you see above.
Later, my 4 pm student did not turn up. [No, I do not get paid for the waiting time!] James waited with me till 4.30 , then we wandered back home, just having to stop at yet another bar on the way for some refreshing cold tea with granita.
A hard life, indeed!
11 comments:
just having to stop at yet another bar on the way for some refreshing cold tea with granita
What else is there to do at times like these?
It must be hard, having to eat icecreams like those!
Quite so, cherrypie. You're right, dragonstar!
Well next time you stop at the bar have one for me will ya?
lol
M
Am just wondering how expensive or affordable it is to eat out in Sicily?
Mmm somehow McD's soft serve just doesn't quite look as tempting as does the icecream you have Welshcakes.
I occasionally glimpsed bits of episodes of the Australian soap "Neighbours", and marvelled at how people managed to be miserable in God's own country; maybe as our forunes increase, we alter the scale of our capacity for dissatisfaction. Eating ice cream in Sunny Sicily... Grrrr!
I can't believe you remember being told of for the first time in primary school on a Thursday. Obviously a very traumatic event.
Enjoy your "hard" life in wonderful Sicily.
I sure will, M! Nunya , it depends where you go, ofcourse, but in general less than half the price you would expect to pay in the UK. Funnily enough, I miss soft ice cream sometimes!
Ciao, Sackeron. Grrr, indeed!
Hi, jmb: it was devastating and I regarded Thursdays as unlucky ever after!!
I quite like Thursdays. It's the beginning of the end. Sort of.
Oh, such ice cream.
Hi, Liz. Sorry, still can't stand Thursdays, but the ice cream helps!
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