Sunday 30th October 2011

Back in London from Florence on Monday I’ve done nothing but shop and book. My jeans have been in crisis, I’ve taken against my winter coat, I’ve been wondering about taking summer colours into winter. So much to tell and so much happiness too.

On Friday I went last minute to shimmering winter Glyndebourne. Never even knew there was winter Glyndebourne. It had that famous aria in it, which I sang all the way home in my Official Car with Xenon driving lights.

It was the Multis’ inspiration which gave winter Glyndebourne, those outstanding property and company owning multi-millionaires.

I promised to share my Florence apartemento. Perhaps you’d think of taking a flatti for your City-Break as an alternative to an hotel; certainly cheaper. The Gay Mother and I had this one in the centre of Florence: one week, £1500.Vast, two bedrooms and two bathrooms: two couple could be there. On gaining we were dismayed by the smell, poor tiling modules and slight delap in the bathrooms. The Gay Mother found the sofa be-crumbed. After foot-stamping and vigorous shaking out of fabrics over Gucci shoppers below, much improvement, in the end the smell delicious, grew v. fond of the apartemento.

In other news and then we must say a sad goodbye to Florence at least until next summer (but Venice looms – oh yes! ) – Poor Little Rich Gays, especially those who took a three-layer cake-stand tea at winter Glyndebourne on Friday, will be bucked up to find that Renaissance sculptors (i.e. Donatello) included a bulging stomach in their vision of the ideal human form.

Also, you won’t have heard of an Italian artist from the 13th century called Cimabue, who has had the most rotten post-death luck. Yet more of his work was destructed in the Assisi earthquake a few years ago. In the 1966 Florence flood I had always understood that a crucifix of his, kept at Santa Croce, had been lost completely. The Gay Mother and I inspected an exhibition of flood photos which seemed to suggest that no, it was back. We asked the attendants and yes! in the museum, they said, it is to be found.

And so it was.

It would have been better had it not been bashed and lashed by oil and mud in 1966; but there it is, something remains.

Poor Little Rich Gays sense the looming black jaws of death. It is part of their greatness.

Cimabue Crucifix Not Destructed After All in Florence Floods 1966: Santa Croce, Florence

Donatello's David: Stomach Not Flat: Encouraging

Cosimo de Medici: Forerunner of the Multis, Those Fabulous Multi-Millionaire PLRGs

Florence Apartemento: Via della Vigna Nuova: This is the Sofa We Had to Get Vac-ed and Sprayed

My Bedroom in the Apartemento: Via della Vigna Nuova, Florence

Tiling Module Gone Badly Wrong: Also Old: Shower in Apartemento Via della Vigna Nuova, Florence

Stain on Bathroom Floor: Apartemento Via della Vigna Nuova, Florence