Add to List - #35 (Italy Edition)

warning: this may get sentimental

How many times do people give you a recommendation and you say ‘Oh, really? Cool. I’ll add it to the list!’ and then you go away and do not add it to any list anywhere?

Well, I present you with Add to List: the Sunday newsletter containing small things that brought joy, evoked an emotional reaction or became some short-lived stability for me in the past 7 days.

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Obsession

My parents.

My parents have descended on the house and disrupted my Eat, Pray Eat, Love Eat, era.

They absolutely love logistics; going with the flow is not their thing. My mother loves to ‘work backwards from dinner’ and ‘just chat a bit about tomorrow’s agenda’. She has a spreadsheet for the week. It’s hand-written.

I am consistently stating before going to bed: ‘tomorrow, I think we should have a day with no agenda?’ in the hope it will leave me some space to see how I feel and act upon on it. That, coupled with losing my autista Italiana in lieu of saving money on car hire (i.e. becoming passenger princess) has left me feeling something of a regression to a year eleven study leave student.

can you vlookup what we are doing on Sunday night?

However, someone said to me earlier this week: ‘It’s a little morbid, but what I try to remember is that we’re in the final 5% of moments that we’ll get spend with our parents. If we see them 4 times a year, and maybe they’ll live 20 more years or so, then that’s 80 visits left. And having a (not very large) number, makes it seem that much less frivolous.’

Whilst I’d like to think my starting statistics might be higher than this (I see my parents a lot and I live in the delusion both my parents could outlive me, which is likely; I have a theory my dad is actually Benjamin Button) I’m enjoying taking in the little moments of magic here with them in the mountains. From exploring new parts of the hills together or arguing about directions in the car (and subsequently laughing about it), we are having quite the adventure.

I made a vow never to complain about them disrupting my creative flow of late. Not everyone is lucky enough to make their morning coffee with both parents dancing on a terrace to a Mario Biondi track as they put the umbrellas up together. I truly am blessed and count my lucky stars to have such loving rockstars by my side. They are the best.

p.s. this is their morning-coffee-umbrellone-jam. It’s a goodie.

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Confession

I’ve become one of these people who fears breaking a nail.

I have been working on growing these nails (first with BIAB and now with normal gel) for MONTHS.

I’ve got my nails to a place where they actually are long and almond shaped? I thought this was only possible with fake nails. However, beauty comes with a high price: I struggle to open cans, I constantly feel I need to wash my hands because I fear dirt underneath nails and I can’t do anything that requires grip strength. Plus, I am already quite an aggressive typer but in writing this newsletter, I fear I may have woken up half the other side of the valley with the incessant tap-tap-tapping.

I think I may return to my low-maintenance ways soon. I’m annoying myself.

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Shook 

My Nonna’s rings.

I’ve been wearing my Nonna’s (Italian granny) rings since I got them re-sized out here. Seeing the ring on my fingers gave me goosebumps. It’s a tiny little bit of gold and isn’t a person but I understand why people are sentimental about jewellery; there’s an intimacy to holding on to a reflection of someone’s soul on your body daily.

My Nonna was the one who introduced me to reading; who helped me make up little stories and tales. We recited poetry together and when recounting interesting life events, she would cackle along with the anecdote, saying: ‘Boom Boom! Michaella, you should write about that!’

She had a way of turning everything into a joyous life lesson. I know she’s the reason I’m a writer. I’ve loved seeing a little souvenir of her essence daily as I type or scribe away.

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Book

The Wild Duck (Hedda Gabler and Other Plays by Henrik Ibsen)

I’ve been reading a lot of contemporary fiction recently and no matter how good, bad or indifferent, I’ve realised without even trying it tends to alter my writing style.

I’ve been trying to crisp up the ‘voice’ of the novel I’m working on but I am struggling. At times, it flows one way; at others, another. I have removed the pressure (after many writers and readers encouraged me to do so) and I’m trying to give myself space to ‘play’ and find it all naturally. But, as my word count increases, I need to get clearer about my intention, or find a new experimental structure which can support both voices.

I realised, this week, after taking stock of what I have written that when reading essays and writing some reflective Substacks of my own, my writing was in a more omniscient poetic voice. Lately, after reading a lot of dialogue-heavy ‘summer reads’ it became more comedic, accessible and jovial.

I feel my love of reading could be influencing my writing but I don’t want to lose finding dramatic inspiration from elsewhere. Therefore, I have started reading plays — starting with Henrik Ibsen. Ibsen, the Norwegian playwright and a founder of modernist theatre, examines and queries societal constructs, particularly pertaining to women. Whilst some of it is very dated, I think his work is a great lesson in how to build tension within the mundane. I also found these castings of non-named characters amusing. Yorgos Lanthinos’ The Lobster-esque.

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Cook

Pizza and Peroni.

This week, we hosted a pizza party for our cousins. We are lucky enough to have a pizza oven in the basement here. It’s quite an ordeal to set up, nestled away through our damp cellar, and extremely hot with zero air flow by the entrance. The dining area is located up steep iron steps (I know, I know, Tuscany first world problems) but this has a silver lining: I probably counter-balanced the slices I consumed with carrying heavy wooden boards up and down the steps in the sweltering heat.

I cooled down from sous-chef duties with this Peroni Capri. It has a slightly fresher, lemony taste versus the normal lager. I haven’t seen this in the U.K. but I think I’ll be asking mum and dad to take back a crate in the car for me. Delicious.

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Can’t Stop Scanning

Spotify Blends.

The brilliant new feature which combines your music tastes with others. It doesn’t work off curated playlists or give you chance to filter out your penchant for Sabrina Carpenter. All your guilty pleasures are aired for one another as well as your top tracks and best tastes. It’s a fun activity. Would recommend doing with your next date. Always good to understand if they still have a Busted addiction at thirty years old.

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Forward Planning

Forward Planning.

Despite what I said about logistics, I have a trip away with my mum and dad to a little island this week, followed by friends coming out to visit. Then I’m off to explore the Cinqueterre. I too probably need to do some Booking.com trawling and a bit of travel blog reading myself.