Tripping the light fantastic
- Ian
- Oct 30, 2015
- 3 min read
So after spending three days and using an awful lot of water bringing our granito tiles up to shining finish, Luca the Polisher has completed his task. Now, instead of the floors eating light it bounces off them – and we even have reflections. How excited were we on Thursday when Luca had completed his work? Very. What’s more, Stephen has lived up to his promise to turn one of the lights from Smile into a thing of beauty and in double-quick time. How lucky am I to be married to a man of vision and genius. Answers on a postcard, please.

It was not all good news on the work front, however, as the fitting of the new windows and doors to the private wing of the house (i.e. the bit with our bedroom) will be delayed as they don’t have the correct grey for the outsides of the frames in stock and it has yet to arrive. Sometimes God does find these little ways to put you in your place when you get a bit uppity with your desires.

Nor was it all sweetness and light in the factory as Stephen found out while he was talking to a colleague in England via Skype. Remo, who was not a happy bunny, took umbrage that Stephen was ingnoring him, not realising he was otherwise engaged, and decided to throw a shoe at him to get his attention. Fortunately his aim was bit skewwhiff so no harm came to either man or machine – though I’m not sure about the shoe - and Remo would have been apologetic if he’ d not managed make himself apoplectic. So what had caused this fervour?

Apparently, Remo had been given the job, by Flavia, of replacing the letters that had come adrift from the names on the family grave at the local cemetery as this coming weekend is All Saints Day, a key date in the Italian calendar. On this day, which this year falls on a Sunday just to up the ante, families visit graves and festoon them with flowers in an act of remembrance – thus explaining why the local flower shop has had a window full of white chrysanthemums for the past few days. Naturally, to avoid whispered censure amongst the matrons of MSP, Flavia wanted everything perfect and Remo, needing glue to complete his task, had come to ask Stephen for some thinking he had the best glue. Actually he hadn’t, but he was able to point Remo in the right direction - once his call had finished.
Remo may, however, have wished he had chosen a less potent adhesive because he returned to the house much humbled later that evening– not from the sanctity of the act but from managing to use the potent glue to stick not only the letters but his fingers as well. Fortunately, Flavia who has an unction for all eventualities, was able to give him something to unstick his fingers with minimal loss of skin. It could have been worse of course, he might have stuck himself to the tombstone and had to spend the night on a marble slab.

As for today, Alessandro the electrician returned now there was no danger from Luca the floor polisher and fixed the wiring for the defunct outside light so it was funct, as well as fitting two new ones, one near the top of the steps and one on the terrazzo. He also installed the light in the vestibule. This had caused us some thought, as it is only a small area, until, on a visit to Smal, Stephen saw a small rectangular cube. Like lightning, he visualised the answer: the cube with a colour changing bulb. The result is fabulous, even if the space is too small for our own personal disco.

After dinner we went for our habitual coffee at the pub, but were a little puzzled to see a glass of rose wine loitering on the table outside. Teresa provided the explanation: it had been left by Bernado, a blind man who comes quite often with his friend Domenico. When Bernardo was given a lift home by another pub regular, Ivan, Domenico had accompanied them. His glass of beer was missing because, not wanting to waste valuable drinking time, he had taken it with him in the car. As for me, given the state of most of the roads around here not to mention the unpredictable way so many Italians drive, I think I’ll stick to necking it back in the McIntosh; I won’t lose as much that way.






























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