La Bimba tortured us last night. She was up from 11:45pm to nearly 3am. I could not figure out what she wanted. The last half hour she was thrashing around and wailing. Then I thrashed around and wailed. The Husband helped, and then this morning he told me that I attacked him, which is true, but I plead temporary insanity.
Reader's Poll: Where should we move?
I bought Roberto Saviano's Gomorra for The Husband yesterday. I am looking forward to him reading it and having yet more to rail against Napoli about. Should make for a pleasant couple of weeks before he returns to his compulsive watching of TG3 Regione (local newscast). For those of you not up on camorra history, Saviano is Napoli's own Salman Rushdie: death threats have forced him into hiding and under police protection because of his book. I think it's a good read. What book that opens with dead bodies falling out of cargo containers isn't?
I forgot to mention in my post-passover post that I did an ingenious thing: I baked a cake (two actually) out of the leftover charoses. I took a carrot cake recipe and replaced the carrots-nuts with the apple-nut-raisin-wine-oj-cinnamon combo that was the mortar for our matzoh bricks. Delightful!
Oops, gotta go. La Bimba is about to lick the sole of one of my shoes. Che schifo...