Tuscany for Beginners by Imogen Edwards-Jones

Author:Imogen Edwards-Jones
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Contemporary Fiction, Humor, Contemporary Women, Divorce, Contemporary, United States, American, General Humor, Literature & Fiction, Humor & Satire, Women's Fiction
ISBN: 9780307492197
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 2008-12-10T08:00:00+00:00

VenerdìFriday

Climafa caldo (hot)

What a night! What a dreadful night! What an absolutely ghastly evening. In fact, last night has to have been one of the worst nights of my life. Honestly, dear readers, I don't mean to crow, but it was truly awful. For as many of you must know by now, there is an art to entertaining. A real art. To be a proper hostess requires flair. It requires panache, dedication, an ability to put the needs of others ahead of one's own. It also requires a little smattering of magic party dust plus a pinch of je ne sais quoi. And, sadly, my poor dear americana neighbor has none of the above. In short, her soirée last night was a disaster.

I mean, where to start? The music was too loud. There was not enough alcohol. The food was very poor. There were too many people, and, actually, if I'm being honest, there were so many Italians one couldn't even hear oneself speak English! Normally we expats out here enjoy tucking up together on a sofa for a sticky and a chat. But because our new resident americana had insisted on inviting the whole valley, there was no room in the house, so we had to spend the evening milling around outside!

Not that we would have wanted to spend much time inside that small house of hers. From what little I saw, she seems to have painted the whole thing white. Quite apart from it being a devil to clean, I can't understand why anyone would want a white house in the middle of the Tuscan countryside. It's so un-Italian. Also, it seems she's planning to make that beautiful fresco-filled chapel next door into some sort of New Age yoga room full of chanting hippies and tantric sex! Really! For the sake of the taste and decency of the valley, I'm beginning to think I shall have to take it upon myself to make sure that her B-and-B closes down as soon as possible! Forgive me if I sound a little upset, but when one's way of life and livelihood is threatened, the British bulldog spirit comes barking out of everyone!

But apart from last night's disaster, everything else is going well. My returnees are settling in. Mrs. Chester went shopping yesterday and came back with the usual leather goods and some suitable outfits for a sojourn in Toscana. It always amazes me what the English wear to go on holiday. Their poor-quality fabrics and unstylishly cut clothes stick out a mile in Tuscany. No Italian would ever mix pale green with cream. Even their skin tone doesn't fit with the color of the stone. As an artist, I find the clashing colors often offend my eye.

Speaking of which, I have so far spent one wonderful morning painting with the major. It is in troubled times like these that one turns to nature to feel its beauty reoxygenate the blood in one's veins. From my window this morning as I am writing, I can feel the height of summer tighten its grip on the valley.

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