What's in store?

As ever when January rolls around, which it does with alarming frequency, life almost seems to enter suspended animation: Christmas drifts away, people return to work, ahead are the dull days of January and February and I run out of things to write about in this blog. Well, that’s my excuse established for why this could be the most uneventful entry so far, especially considering it covers a whole week.

So, what, if anything, has happened?

Well, on the work front, things started off a tad quietly with Rocco and Vittorio off gallivanting to Slovenia for a spot of skiing and Alessandro having to cancel due to commitments relating to his PhD thesis. But then I received a phone call on Wednesday afternoon from the mother of young Alessandro. Those of you with good memories may recall that he is the boy whom I taught for a time during the summer until holidays beckoned. She and two of her friends were interested in improving their English, and consequently I took trip to the other side of Rapagnano yesterday afternoon for the initial hour and a half lesson. Despite their protestations that they’re not very good, they do actually have a fair level of language skills but as they haven’t studied or used English since college days they lack confidence, especially in speaking situations, and want to be able to converse when they are abroad. As I’ve said before, for Italians English is the international language that opens up work, travel and social opportunities, which is why they (the ones past school age that is) consider it important.

As for Stephen, he has continued his ‘piano, piano’ approach to developing new avenues but, having been made to sign the Official Secrets Act, I’m not at liberty to divulge any details. All I’ll say is watch this space. I can, however, reveal that where work on the house is concerned, he has been showing the skirting boards who’s boss and has them sanded and primed and undercoated (like I know what that means) and is just waiting for them to dry sufficiently to get on with the top coat. How does he cope with such excitement after life in the international fashion world? Mind you, I’ve not been completely redundant in this process, having played a small but vital role supplying him with coffee and biscuits at critical moments. And to think some consider me a DIY disaster zone.

Talking of excitement, it hit further heights on Wednesday when, with forecasts of snow in the offing, we headed to one of the larger hypermarkets to gather provisions for a box of emergency supplies should we be snowed in. Not that that actually seems likely at the moment, as the weather has been unseasonably warm; even early in the week when we were battered by some high winds the sky remained a clear blue and the temperatures above the average for the time of year. However, with the forecast showing the thermometer dipping below zero at the weekend and a promise of snow showers, we thought we’d better be prepared and so pushed our trolley up and down those aisles looking for food with a long shelf life.

You’d think this would be a relatively easy task considering the acres of space in British supermarkets dedicated to convenience foods in various shapes, sizes and packaging but not so over here. Italians don’t really buy such things, preferring to have a choice of fresh fruit and vegetables, real bread and a selection of every conceivable shape of pasta. Nevertheless, we did spot some tins of Heinz beans, whose £2 price tag reflected both their exoticness and lack of appeal to the native shopper. Unsurprisingly we passed on those but did come away with the means to rustle up a few decent meals, even if we have to resort to hanging a pan over the fire.

We’ll also be able to keep our blood sugar levels up with the three Kilner (well, IKEA) jars of homemade persimmon jam that have taken up residence in our cupboard, though not without a degree of trauma. When we first took possession of LCDDB, we were told how lucky we were to have such a fine fruit tree, especially as, when the leaves fall, the abundant fruit remains hanging in golden clusters on the branches. Well, yes, lucky to an extent, though it is also a heavy responsibility: we don’t want to appear profligate or ungrateful to Mother Nature for such bounty but what does one do with a tree load of persimmons? The answer, as far as I can find, is not very much. Of course you can just eat them, but even Stephen finds them cloyingly sweet and two or three are more than enough to see you through the winter. Other than that, it seems the answer is jam, but may I offer some advice…

Should you ever, like us, be faced with a glut and heave out the preserving pan: (a) make sure your jam thermometer gives an accurate reading and doesn’t decide to drop ten degrees – and resolutely stay there - when it is about to hit the setting point; (b) plan to start the jam early enough to avoid having to take your dogs for a walk half way through the process; (c) keep stirring the bottom of the pan every ten seconds to make sure that residue lurking there doesn’t weld itself onto the base the moment you take a couple of minutes just to attend to other business; (d) have a plentiful supply of Cif and pan scourers and an understanding partner who is prepared to spend forty-five minutes excavating the charcoal remains resulting from (c).

And the jam itself? It is a glorious burnt amber colour and a good consistency but is, predictably, a tad on the sweet side with a hint of caramel thrown in for good measure.

But to finish on a positive note – the big success of the week for us was joining Netflix. Now we have on our smart TV an equally smart application that allows us with gratifying ease to watch a selection of programmes in the English language. Finally, our snug lives up to its name as we all snuggle up of an evening and do what is dear to the heart of all true Brits: fiddle with the TV remote.