Summer *may* (whisper it very softly) be finally here. Just in time for exam season, when afternoons are spent locked in stuffy rooms, watching students sweating both literally and metaphorically. One week of teaching left to do, and then it’s goodbye Calabria. Except that it isn’t. Over the last few months my departure date has been being put back further and further, until now it’s looking like it’s going to be the end of July. And that’s only because my mother has a big birthday on 2 August this year. Were it not for that fact, I don’t think I’d be going back at all.
The other weekend I had a conversation with some of the boys from choir about England. They asked if I missed my family. I said no. (Sorry, Mum and Dad!) If I’m honest, I probably speak to my family more now than I did when I lived in London, as we make more of an effort to keep in contact. I do, however, miss my cats. They don’t really *get* Skype, much though I’ve tried to persuade them that it’s the future.
I’ve just finished teaching my last student of the day. I’m in the staff room catching up on some marking. I’m aware of the door buzzer going, but ignore it. Sam comes out of her classroom to answer it, then returns to me a minute later with a puzzled look on her face. ‘Kate, there’s somebody at the door. They say they have something for you – they’re on their way up.’ Mystified, I head for the door, and am met by the choir boys, who are grinning fit to burst. Domenico is hidden behind Gianluca and Emmanuel at first, but then he pushes forward and thrusts a small, fluffy, grey bundle at me. Said small, fluffy bundle promptly swarms up my arm and settles herself on the back of my neck. It would appear that I’m now an Italian cat owner.