Il Cucchiaio d'Argento (The Silver Spoon)

Today I have had an important task. Looking for nice recipies to do together with Witte Haai and Sophie-the-excellent-cook-for-sweet-dishes.
Although the Lady that will host the dinner of the 26th is giving to everyone advices on what to bring and what NOT include in the recipies, time is running out and I forgot to check out the recepie that WE should prepare.
As one of the guest is pregnant and very careful with food at the moment, the last thing I'd like to do is to choose a dish that SHE can't eat.
Thus, out of more than 100 recepies for fancy desserts, only one is saved: the blueberry custard.

...wait a minute: I've been looking in an Italian book of recepies, the famous, de enige de echte Cucchiaio d'Argento and the only suitable dessert I could prepare, according to the circumstances, is the blueberry custard???!!!

but...but...the custard is an English, I repeat, ENGLISH recipie!!!!!!

uffa.

dimanche à Bamako

In this period of the year days have a short life, and it feels as life is short too.
You wake up and you hope to see some light, between the rain and the clouds, before the sunset.
And today has been one of those days, in which the light has come out every now and then, and the sun was bright, and even if after a while clouds begun to appear again, while biking I have had the feeling it was just like early spring...
Nice feelings, happy inside, thoughtful and concerned...I go back home, I have some lunch, and before going back to the very LAST part of my thesis, I check my email.
I check my email with the thought: I wonder what my supervisor wrote me, this time....and there she is, with all her beautiful "bastardaggine" (well, you are very welcome to study some Italian, any time), very eager to demonstrate that she can be my personal pain in the a** whenever she feels like doing so.
In less than two minutes my mood was completely turned down. After all, how could I have been happy to read that:
- she goes on pregnancy leave for several monthssss
- she insists to be my supervisor, notwithstanding (yes, notwithstanding!!!)
- she assumes that her and my (in)formal second supervisor will read the thesis taking aaaallll the time the'll need, without specifing when the hell I will be able to meet her/him/them and talk about my final graduation date.

nice.

Therefore Furthermore Moreover I felt so pushed down that for a couple of hours my enthusiasm in finishing my project simply faded away.

I don't know how the coming hours will be, hopefully better than the former two.
I really hope this, for my own sake...

ah, yes, the cheerful album Dimanche à Bamako is a perfect soundtrack in these cases.