Yes, it's been a long and involuntary hiatus, for reasons which I'll explain further down the post because I'd like to start by mentioning last Sunday's International Women's Day,
La Giornata della Donna. Susanna Duffy in Melbourne invited me to speak on her very interesting radio programme
Left After Breakfast on Melbourne 3CR radio and this is what I said:
"It's
9 a.m. in beautiful, Baroque Modica and in a few minutes I'm going to
a nearby bar where I know there'll be bright yellow mimosa-inspired
cakes because the mimosa blossom is the symbol of International
Women's Day – la Giornata Internazionale della Donna – in
Italy.
This
was the idea of Teresa Mattei, a World War 2 partisan and one of the
Mothers of the Italian Constitution – that is, she was a member of
the Assemblea Costituente which drew up the Constitution after
the war. She thought that mimosa would be a great symbol of
International Women's Day for the simple reason that the flowers are
in season here in early March and can be obtained easily at little or
no cost. Little bouquets of them are being sold right now in the
streets and people do buy them for the women in their lives. It's
quite a joyous day here with free entry for women to all State
cultural sites.
Teresa
Mattei died in 2013 at the age of 92. The mimosa blooms for you
today, Teresita, as it does for all women.
Buona
Giornata della Donna - Happy
International Women's Day."
Mimosa-inspired cheesecake
But what had I been up to in the months before that? Not much, really as in November I underwent knee replacement surgery. I spent five weeks in hospital, where I must say the physiotherapy was wonderful but the worst part was being away from my dog Bertie-Pierrine. She was well looked after in kennels and they were kind enough to send me photos every day but I missed her so much!
One day the doctors said I could have a visit from her, provided it was outside and not for long. I got better pretty quickly after that!
And then, two days before Christmas we both came home and it was fantastic!
I'll leave you with a true story of something that happened in the hospital - it might make you smile:
Battle of the Bra
This morning a kindly male nurse is preparing me for physio. All is going reasonably well until we come to the matter of my bra, which, not being a queen who has a dresser at her command, I put on in my usual way, back to front to do up the fasteners, with the intention of then turning it around.
"No!" says he, trying to pull my bra from my hands. "It's the wrong way round!"
"I know", say I.
"But how are you going to wear it like that?" he asks, still trying to wrench it from me.
(My dignity you have taken; my bra you shall never have.)
"Like this", I reply, deftly sliding the garment into its correct position and manoeuvring my tits into it.
Scratching his head, the nurse looks at me as an Egyptian might have looked at Moses when God parted the Red Sea. (I am left in great puzzlement as to this man's home life. Does his wife never do up her own bra?)
Then we moved on to the socks...
