You need hands

Firstly, so you can all stop worrying, the jam was a hit with Flavia and the men and indeed it is just the right consistency and tastes fab. They did remark that it was a tad sweet – well, it’s jam! I only hope the supermarket doesn’t put any other fruit on offer or I will have to go into full time production.

The good news on the house front is that work started on the bathroom yesterday. When I say work I mean a demolition exercise as the incumbent sanitary ware has been removed and the knocking out of wall and floor tiles has created layers of dust. Still, you can’t make an omelette without cracking eggs so I guess you can’t upgrade a bathroom without shattering ceramic.

Not wanting to be outdone, our handyman treasure Franco also got his sledgehammer swinging and knocked out the window and the section of wall below it in the future dressing room. This was not down to implement envy but to make the opening for the door onto the terrazzo. This is where things start to get a bit worrying: it was all right fitting the new boiler and the kitchen as those jobs didn’t entail any building work, but we have now entered into a phase that involves demolition in order to rebuild. I am consoling myself with the thought that it might look like an awful mess but really it is not that much of a deal.

I say all this from my standing as someone who has even less interest in this side of life than I have ability for it. However, always ready to give a helping hand, I did keep Stephen company in the evening while he stripped back the varnish on the kitchen fireplace’s wooden mantelpiece and seat lids. Shame we were so engrossed in the operation that neither of us noticed Bella chewing through her lead. Surely she can’t have been bored; I know I wasn’t.

The annihilation of the bathroom continued on today, where there was an interesting development with the builders. Marco, the head honcho of the operation (of two) spent a lot of time when talking with Stephen yesterday lifting up his shirt to wipe off his sweat. He added an elegant variation when putting his hand down his pants joined his repertoire. We just hope he stops there or goodness knows where he’ll go with it over the next few days.

The plumber also came on today to size up what he needed to do – which must be very complicated as Stephen spent 90 minutes with him, telling him in minute detail EXACTLY how he wants the bathroom to look when all is completed. He is much better with tradesmen than I am, treating them in a blokey way while making it clear what he expects – whereas I would just try not to look bewildered, nod a lot and let them do whatever they wanted.

This evening saw a definite sign that autumn is on its way – well two signs, actually. The first is that the Fermo darts league 2015/16 season has started, meaning the pub was host to a visiting team. I’d take it a bit more seriously if the dartboard weren’t like something from a seaside arcade. Now I know I am not a regular with the arrows and it is some time (if ever) since I was in a pub in Britain on a darts night, but I’m sure they don’t use electronic machines with darts that stick into tiny holes on the board and an automatic scoring system. Where’s the fun in that?

As we could not bear the heat of the tense competition at the pub, we headed for the campeggio for a nightcap – where we witnessed the second sign of the onset of autumn: people in jumpers and padded jackets. Yes, the evening temperature was down to 20C; how foolish for Stephen and I to wear t-shirts but until we saw the swaddled locals we hadn’t realized it had gone cold.