You CAN Always Get What You Want

Recently I’ve been reading a lot about the benefits of gratitude and kindness on our health, happiness and getting what you want out of life.  I used to be a bit of a Cynical Cynthia and poo-poo any hippy dippy ideas about the power of positive thinking or the law of attraction.  It was all too Oprah for me.   But, gradually I’ve come to see the light and, like a Cyberman, I’ve been converted and now I’m Barb the Believer.   So, as part of my commitment to happiness, I am attempting to speak more (barbed) words of kindness and be grateful for all the wonderful things in life.  Here’s my thanks for the weekend:

Thank you…to the bar in central Rome that allowed us to take a welcome break from the heat of the day.  It was so good of you to allow us to sit undisturbed for twenty minutes, without hassling us about ordering drinks or food.  In fact, you were so determined to make us feel comfortable that you firmly ignored all our attempts to catch your attention.  What a pain it was when we were rested enough to move to another bar where the waiter greeted us warmly within 30 seconds of taking a seat.  What’s his problem??

Thank you…to the Rolling Stones for an amazing show at Circus Maximus last night.  I am seriously in awe of Mick’s fitness; he hardly stood still for two hours.  I don’t know where he gets the energy.  Also, I don’t know where he gets his hair – surely it can’t be real??

Thank you…to the audience, who not only smoked incessantly but also filmed the entire concert on their iPhones/iPads, thus obscuring what would have been an awesome view of the main stage.  Fortunately, we were next to the bridge and mini stage so, despite the sea of technology, I was able to get a close up look at ol’ craggy face Mick.

Thank you…to the lovely group of Italians next to us, who told us how much they disliked English people and that, ‘You fucking English break my balls’. Really? Why have you just forked out €100 to watch a fucking English band then?

Thank you…to the lax parking rules in Rome which enabled us to park directly in front of the venue.  Usually I complain about the ‘Park anywhere you like/don’t worry if you’re blocking another car or driveway/double parking is fine, why not try triple parking for a change?’ attitude but last night, as we drove off ten minutes after the concert had finished, I was all for it.

Thank you…to the builders who are scaffolding our apartment block in preparation for repairs to the building.  I particularly appreciated the scaffolding being delivered by tossing it from the lorry onto the road at 7am this morning, thus waking me up on one of the very rare mornings when both my children were at sleepovers so I didn’t have to be up early.  Mind you, I should probably be more concerned that half the building is now being held up with steel supports, which makes me a tad nervous to step onto my balcony.

Not sure if I’ve quite got the hang of this gratitude thing…I’ll try harder next time.  Will I become too annoying if I become too grateful for everything?? Anyway, thank you…to you for reading my blog and just, y’know, being you 🙂

 

 

Inside Italy: Let It Be…

We had a problem with a leak in the bathroom that was dripping into the apartment below so a couple of idraulici (plumbers) were called in.  The leak came from a pipe beneath a tiled floor and two feet of solid concrete, so a pneumatic drill was used to dig a huge hole, which was just as loud and messy as it sounds.

The plumbers, who barely spoke a word of English, geared each other up to ask me, in the universal language of mime and lots of pointing, if it was true what they’d heard: English people don’t have bidets?   I confirmed this was correct and then, by the use of some very graphic mimes apparently involving handstands in the shower, they demonstrated how they thought we would ‘freshen up’ after using the loo.  They found this hilariously amusing and much merriment was had laughing at the funny, disgusting ways of foreign English folk!

Bidets certainly are very important here.  An American friend, who owns an apartment in Rome, wanted to remove the bidet when refitting her bathroom but was told in no uncertain terms that she would never be able to sell the apartment to Italians without a bidet.

Actually, it’s not quite true that we don’t use the bidet – it does come in very handy for chilling beers when I’m taking a long bath…

beers in bidet by barbedwords.wordpress.com