WALNUT TEA, TONSILLITIS AND CASANOVA

Having inflamed tonsillitis was an often occurrence and as much as I dread it, as much I was looking forward to Mama making the walnut tea. It looked a bit dark and frankly revoltingly brown, but it tastes amazingly lovely and I wasn’t sharing it with anybody. And I loved the feeling of being dotted over and looked after. I eventually would lose my voice and would only screech and scratch when I speak. So I was told I am talking like the Godfather... And they were rolling down laughing that finally I can't talk! Well, they wouldn’t want me making them a deal they can’t refuse!

I still get these painful moments with throat so red and inflamed that I can’t swallow sip of water. These days I have to get up of my mighty backside and start making my own walnut tea.
Then I curl up on the arm chair, daydreaming or just staring through the window. And thinking what if I was at the Bahamas, walking on a blinding white sandy beach. Or, wait! Scratch the beach, we have beaches galore here! I want to be in Venice! Oh, that’s right! But this packing and unpacking is getting me tired. Somehow Venice is charming me, but not that hard to wish it bad.
My eyes are getting heavy and tired. They are still wondering through the window, but I am trying to remember why I ever was mesmerised by Venice if I’ve never been there?! And as I moved my sleepy grazing eyes and they licked naked woman on the book cover at my library shelves, I recognised the old devil there – 12 volumes of Casanova’s History of My Life.
Ciao Giacomo!
Now is good time to get together again – nice soft spot, walnut tea, lemons, cherries and you and me...