In some very good news, today, we received the last ‘refund’ of paid out money for our sadly cancelled Dutch trip. It was four e-vouchers for our Eurostar tickets. We now have a year to rebook.
What with the insurance paying for two bookings we couldn’t get a refund on, the whole unholiday cost us about £80. That’s definitely a win for us. And it means, hopefully, we can go to the Netherlands in 2021 and pretend this year just didn’t happen.
Freya was in a position to wish today hadn’t happened.
I find it extraordinary that dogs love puddles, rivers, murky ponds, any kind of water…except when it comes to bath time. Say what you like, but this face is not happy.
She gets very dusty does Freya. And, because she’s supposed to be white, she soon looks a bit ashen. Eventually it all gets a bit too much and a bath is called for. This is most necessary when we see other white dogs who seem to shine in the sun.
Mind you, as much as she hates it, Freya is very well behaved in the sink. She puts up with it. Emma, on the other hand, does everything she can to make it as awkward as possible. I think this shows who has the higher IQ. After all, Freya doesn’t take very long in the sink while Emma can be in there for hours.
It was the same with the poodles. Hating a bath, I mean. I remember Carmen always trying to stick her head over the side of the bath in an attempt to avoid getting her face wet.
Of course, the earlier discomfort was quickly forgotten when we piled into the car to head to Thursley for a delightful and new walk.
Mirinda has just about walked all over Thursley. At least that’s what she thought before today. We discovered a little track that led us up and through a small wood, emerging on a farm track. The shade thrown by the trees was most welcome.
Though the shade wasn’t as refreshing as the pond which was being utilised by family groups, splashing, swimming and generally cooling off in the best way known to man or beast.
Actually, like the kids in the trees on Sunday, it was excellent to see kids swimming in the pond. They call it ‘wild swimming’ here in the UK. Though, if you ask me, it’s not exactly ‘wild’. Unless by ‘wild’ they mean free from any chemicals.
It reminded me of trips down to the Nepean River as a kid. Or the Blue Pool at Glenbrook. There really is nothing quite like swimming in real water.
There’s also not much like walking through real woodland on a hot and sunny day.
In answer to my post title, it dates back to around the early 20th century. Italian immigrants in New York started making their pizzas and the bemused Americans, in an attempt to describe them, said they were like a pie. They were, after all, round and cut into triangles with a crusty base.
In order to Americanise a dish which already had a more than adequate name, they called them tomato pies. (Of course this is before the abomination that is ham and pineapple pizza.) The two names then came together in an odd sort of way in order for Dean Martin to sing “When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amore!“
Which is why the question came to mind. I was humming the song (it was in my head for some reason) and I suddenly wondered. And now I know.
(A big thank you to Tom at the Crust Kingdom for the information. Imagine, an entire website devoted to one of the world’s greatest foods. I’m drooling like Homer Simpson.)