The deli

I dropped into Fuzzy's Grub for breakfast this morning on the way to the office. It had been an early start to fly from Geneva. I stayed with my daughter Gioia. She is house-sitting a vast 1920's apartment. It is full of wonderful parquet floors, marble fire places, double doors into the main reception rooms and rattles with ancient plumbing and heating. The flat is haunted, Gioia tells me, by a granny who complains she does not want to do the house-work - the granny that is. But then Gioia does not like house-work either - she hasn't discovered the zen of hoovering or ironing!! - so maybe the granny is scolding her. Too confusing for me and I saw no sign of the phantom granny, but there was a funny energy in one of the rooms.
Work seemed rather tame today...