It occurs to me as I wait in eager expectation for the delivery of our recently purchased vacuum cleaner, food processor and bread-maker, that I may recently have hurdled over a fair number of house-husband milestones without fully appreciating the effect such events would have on my underlying Guy-Quotient.
However, as I become older and w-.. older, I become less and less concerned with such thoughts. ‘Cause frankly, now would be a bit late to start worrying – I’m a singin’, wine-lovin’ Broadway musical-enjoyin’ skinny guy for chrissakes. If I can still hold my head high with those mantles, then is it such a crime that I do it while enjoying some fresh home-baked bread?
The fact that the vacuum is a Hoover may, however, tip the balance irreversibly.
In my defence, we recently picked up a killer purchase with a high-scoring guy factor through amazon.co.uk. We had been trying to find a decent computer monitor to pair with my tower which will shortly be arriving, and about a week ago we found one: An Acer 19″ wide-screen LCD that cost us a pittance (less than £200) that arrived on our doorstep one day after we ordered it. T’is a thing of beauty and I love it dearly.
Quoth the wife: “We win”.
In other news, a half hour of unsupervised Internet surfing on my part has resulted in our taking a spontaneous vacation near the end of this month.
We’re both curling fans, and have been going through a fair amount of withdrawal since arriving in England. With the Olympics on the horizon, I was looking forward to finally catching some footage either online or on TV. But then it ocurred to me that, from where we are, Torino is not exactly a mysterious far-away land.
…And the discovery that a flight from Stansted to Torino costs about £19 during the week didn’t hurt either.
Long story short, Ally and I are going to Italy for a few days to watch the Olympic curling finals! We fly into Torino on Feb.23, and hop a South-West train to the town of Pinerolo to catch the women’s gold medal final that evening. The men’s bronze and gold finals both happen the next day.
It seems that we were fated to go, in that we were not only able to locate cheap flights so close to the date of travel but also found affordable accommodation at a hotel less than 2km from the venue. Part of me was actually a bit put off at just how easy it all was. For example, when I called up the hotel to enquire about vacancies, I had all of my pre-translated phrases laid out in front of me, nervously excited about trying to communicate across the English-Italian language divide.
“Buona sera, Albergo Regina.”
“Buona sera Signore! Parla Inglese?”
“Yes. Yes I do,” he replies, in flawless English.
A half hour’s worth of careful translation for nothing. I’d even conjugated my verbs, dammit! Still, I’m certain I’ll have numerous opportunities to try out my non-existent Italian and embarrass myself thoroughly once we arrive.