Casa Tosi

The house was built in 1700
and was already old by the time Italy was unified.

It nestles into a curve of the hillside
above Capolona and below Casavecchia.

Inside, the rooms are cool and elegant
and the fragrance of pine trees fills the air.

Light filters through the shutters
onto the polished tile floor.

Sitting in the shade outside at midday
you hear a cascade of bells
from every corner of the valley.

It was a tranquil place to relax
and discuss plans for the future.

Buongiorno!

No prizes for guessing
which airport we flew out of yesterday.
I wonder if you can see where:

two grown men nearly came to blows
in the queue for the hire-car shuttle bus
(not MrM, I hasten to add)

the road where every petrol station was closed
(MrsM was proved right about
the motorway service station
being the last chance...)

the Scottish restaurant
that MasterM wanted to visit
because he had eaten too much pizza
(imagine!)

the tiny gap between buildings
where MissM saw a glimpse
of the chief tourist attraction
(we couldn't stop because
we didn't want to miss the flight)

the queue up the escalator to passport control
(or the queues for check-in, security, boarding...)

No?
Never mind...
they weren't the most important parts of the holiday...
and we are back safely.

Thank you for all your lovely holiday wishes
If only I didn't have to go to work this morning
I could tell you all about it.
Back tomorrow.

Ciao!

I may be gone a little while...

We have packed guide books
and money
and maps
and sunscreen
because we are going to be
driving around Tuscany
looking for shady little osterie
where we can eat, drink and chat.

MasterM is flying in from Greece
with his rucksack and travellers tales
and we will all be together
for the first time since Christmas.

Bliss.

what Miss Maisie saw

Miss Maisie came to supper on Saturday
in her finest stripey outfit
and chattered all evening to us,
quite delighted to be the centre of attention.

She is three months old.
and she stares intently with huge eyes
because she is seeing things for the first time.

I wonder if it was the very first time
that she ever saw strawberries.

I am glad that they were perfect;
ripe red cushions with acid green leaves,
irresistible in my blue Peacock bowl.

MrsM and her therapist

MrsM is going to Italy at the end of the week.
She has decided that her toes must look their best
and so she is reclining on plush towels,
breathing in the scent of ylang-ylang
and relaxing to the sound of whale birthing music.

Fulvia picks up the right foot,
sighs deeply and says
"Well, I will do what I can."

MrsM sits up straight
- which is very difficult on the slippery plush towels -
Her toes will never be those of a super model
but she does have regular pedicures.
She is outraged.

Fulvia says
"Do you do anything to your feet?"
MrsM has visions of flossing between her toes
and says wildly (and untruthfully)
that she moisturises regularly.

Fulvia says
"You should remove the dead skin every four days
and exfoliate regularly."
MrsM says with a light, tinkling laugh
"Goodness, you make me feel guilty."

Fulvia says
"Well, they are not the worst I have ever seen
because I have seen some terrible feet."
MrsM considers escape routes but
Fulvia has both feet in an iron grip.

Fulvia says
"I am surprised.
At least you can carry off this polish.
I thought that it would look quite anaemic."
MrsM is crushed.
She is a foot failure.

Barbara and Hilary

Jane and Prudence
Barbara Pym

"'Paul is reading Geography,' (Jane) explained.
'It must be a fascinating subject.
All those tables of rainfall and the other things
- vegetation, climate, soil...'
She waved her hands about,
seeming unable to go any further
into the delights of Geography."

******

I thought that this book was too slight, too trivial.

I was wrong.

It is as delicate as a clear soup,
each flavour separate but carefully balanced.

The memory of this book lingers after reading,
fragments of writing bubble to the surface of the mind
and burst with rapid release of laughter.

It is like the smallest amuse bouche,
frivolous and foamy in a tiny bowl,
enchanting the palate and remaining distinct*
however nutritious the meal that follows.

*I hope so
because I am just about to start
a heavyweight, Booker nominated, good-for- me book.

Pass the indigestion tablets...

Stage Fright...

...is what you get
when you have been writing quietly
and you think that it would be a good idea
to publish some of your work
and you are overwhelmed
by the warmth of the welcome.

Under such a bright spotlight
the post that was planned
seemed too trivial.

Perhaps the best thing to do
is the most obvious
- to thank you all for your friendship -
How lucky I am to be part of
this extraordinary community of bloggers...
while I was away
I missed the daily conversation
that I had taken for granted.

So many of you sent caring emails
- thank you to each of you for your thoughfulness.

I am particularly grateful to Bobby
who read this blog before it was public
and was so perceptive and encouraging.

I would also like to credit Trash,
a long time blog-friend,
who quoted Baudelaire in a comment months ago.
It was the springboard that launched this blog

"a multitude of small delights
constitute happiness"

My objective is very modest:
to record the small things that make me smile.

I hope that they make you smile too.

The Woman and the Window

MrsM has been busy, busy, busy
since the beginning of July.
She has been feeding her family,

Jan Vermeer
The Milkmaid

reading books,

Delfin Enjolras
Young Woman Reading by a Window

even cleaning floors.

Sister Osithe
Woman at Window

After a while MrsM started to feel lonely...

Edward Hopper
Hotel Window

so she tweaked the curtain
and peeked into Blogland.

Johann Georg Meyer
Young Woman looking through a Window

Everyone else was having lots of summer fun
and after some thought,
MrsM decided to write a sequel to The Magpie Files.

Robert Kipniss
Woman at Window

MasterM has nearly finished his Gap Year
and MissM is starting her last year at school;
it is a new phase in the life of our family.

Before MrsM knew what was happening
she was writing again.

Henri Lebasque
Femme Ecrivant

It is time to throw open the window
here at ChezMagpie
and let in the morning sunshine.

Edward Hopper
Cape Cod Morning

Thank you once again for all the very kind comments
at the end of The Magpie Files -
I was overwhelmed by your generosity
and hope that I managed to reply to everyone.

If you want to join in again
you will be most welcome.

(just for the record)

It is the summer vacation
and the Department is in hibernation.
There is time to stop and chat.

1.
She tells me that...
she has taken eight children camping.
I bow before her.

2.
He tells me that...
his wife cut his hair.
His hair is shockingly short.
He says that it is an economy haircut.

3.
She tells me that...
her daughter is at summer camp.
Today they are playing with clay...
if only we could go and join in too.

4.
He tells me that...
he is to become a father
and it is clear that he cannot believe
that he is saying the words out loud.

5.
She tells me that...
it was her daughter's 18th birthday party.
"It was lovely to see her so happy
and the centre of attention.
Birthdays should be special."

6.
He tells me that...
he is not going home to Spain this year.
"It will be very hot there"
he says gloomily,
looking out at the rain.

7.
She tells me that...
every time she organises office moves
she is also moving house.
"If I see another archive box
I
will
scream."

8.
He tells me that...
they are going on holiday to CentreParcs
where he will look after the children
and his wife will go the Spa.
I think he is looking forward to it.

9.
She tells me that...
she is thinking of leaving.
I am sad
but not surprised.

10.
He tells me that...
he had remembered what I had told him
and so the new baby
arrived with a present
for a newly promoted big sister.

11.
She tells me that...
her daughter got married.
The sun shone all day
and everything went according to plan
and, afterwards, she felt quite bereft.

12.
This time last year I did not know them.
They would not have told me these things.

MrM and MasterM

MasterM
On Mykonos.
Ridiculously windy.
Can't get money out of bank.

MrM
That would be because
you have run out of money.

MasterM
Please transfer some more.
Need to pay for mud hut on beach.

MrM
OK.

MasterM
Thank you.
Please could you sort out
12 tix for Autumn Internationals
at Twickenham.

MrM
Will do my best.
Can't promise anything.

MasterM
Thank you.

And a car park space.

MrM
OK.

MasterM
Thank you
Can you text the cricket scores tomorrow.

MrM
What did your last slave die of?

MasterM
Seem to remember that he
overdosed on multi-tasking.
Great guy though!