Romance Lessons

That's what they're calling Joaquin's book in Italy. Romantiche lezioni. And it came out in February, so I guess the Italians, like the French, had the good sense to put it out in a World Cup year, too.

So, now that we have a final between Italy and France, I've added an Italian edition to the prizes. So if you read Italian or know someone who does -- or if you just want a lovely Italian book to add to your To Be Read pile so you look more multi-lingual than you are, send me an email at anne.mcallister(at)gmail.com and I will add you to the contest. Winners drawn Sunday, July 9, 2006 by Gunnar (who as far as I know doesn't read Italian, but does eat spaghetti, so I guess that counts for something).

Great match today. I told The Prof that if the French won it would be a case of age and treachery triumphing over youth and enthusiasm. I'm not sure that's fair to players like Ribery for the French who is young and enthusiastic, and Figo for the Portuguese who has some years on him. But it was a hard fought game and the Portuguese seemed to always have possession of the ball in the last half. A nailbiter. My friend Linda, who likens soccer to watching paint dry (as I have mentioned before) called me all excited about it. Of course, she's watching it in High Definition, and I couldn't tell if she was excited about the match or the men. No matter. At least she doesn't think it's watching paint dry anymore.

There are cats moving in on us. Three of them. I think they have it in their heads to replace the dogs. They have canvassed the neighborhood, checked out who might really like animals, and have decided that we must be a particularly soft touch as we have THREE d.o.g.s. So obviously they feel sorry for us and want to spare us the misery of the d.o.g.s by kindly offering to replace them in our household with themselves.

Sorry, kitties, it isn't going to work. We like cats, but we have two kids who are very allergic. And when one of them practically lives on an inhaler when she's got a cat in the house (even if she's the one responsible for bringing the last cat into the house) we have thought better of having cats. We love them, but it just doesn't work.

So, they are living under the porch next door and my neighbor (an even softer touch) is feeding them. It's a family, apparently. Mom, Dad and kitten. Where they came from is anyone's guess. But they make life interesting for the dogs who have become avid cat-watchers this week.

Did you notice? Never once did I mention That Hero and That Heroine.