The Trevi Fountain... and the Fountain of Life

Well, here was I all ready to pontificate about the wonders of the ancient world, and most of my commenters wanted to know about the food.

Ah. Umm. How embarrassing.

The trouble is that I’m vegetarian and we got the distinct impression that Italians don’t really do vegetarian. Which is why, in four days, I had three margherita pizzas. To be fair to myself, I ate only a total of one and a quarter of these (Mr Life helped out). What else? Panini (cheese and ham, with the ham given to Mr Life) and once – this was the very best bit – French fries and a nice mixed salad. Well, at least there were some vitamins there.

I do apologise to all you foodie people hoping for vicarious exotic gastronomic experiences. Mr Life had pasta of some sort at one time, and a tuna salad, and also a ham and veal thing. I wasn't really paying attention, though. Oh dear, I do feel a failure.

On another topic, the catlets, having just about worked out about rainy days (wet outside, dry inside) got a nasty shock yesterday. As did Mr Life and our son. The shower in the upstairs bathroom sprang a leak, which spouted back into the wall behind the shower, down the inside of the wall and extensively through the hall ceiling below; also to some extent down the walls.

“Fortunately” seems a slightly inappropriate word to use in the circumstances, but it was lucky(ish) that, just about the time of the flood, our son had decided to come home to have some lunch and write an essay and Mr Life was popping home to collect the car so that he could ferry some colleagues to a funeral. Normally, the water would have sprayed unchecked for some hours, but yesterday they managed in a reasonably short time to turn off the water in the street (we didn’t have the necessary turning-off device, but fortunately our neighbour did) do things with buckets and towels and phone an emergency plumber and the insurers. (Mr Life never got to the funeral; his colleagues got a taxi.)

Still, we have bulgy hall ceilings, slightly bulgy wallpaper on the walls, wet carpets and confused (though very interested) catlets.

Groan. Could we have some sympathy, please? – especially for Mr Life, who was a bit traumatised by the whole thing. Though it's nothing compared to the problems of those poor people in California.

I really want to write about the Pantheon – which has survived 2000 years without springing any leaks, dash it * - but tonight I need to read some of your blogs.



* Mind you, I don’t think the Pantheon is equipped with showers. Those Ancient Romans weren't daft.