Chips with everything

Another week’s water has passed under the bridge (which is a somewhat disconcerting image), but it’s been a bit of a trickle rather than a torrent. I will, however, fulfil the mission to document our trials, tribulations and triumphs, though there has been very little of any of those things in the past seven days. Still, as Julie Walters once said in a Victoria Wood sketch: “That’s God’s way of getting you to enjoy Gardeners’ Question Time.”

And gardens were very much the topic of conversation on Saturday when we had a visit in the morning from one of the factory owners with whom Stephen has been liaising, and his father. Apparently, after helping them out a little at MICAM the father said that in return he’d bring his rotavator to churn up the allotment area at the front of the house. Seems like a good bargain to me; it would have been dreadful watching Stephen struggle to dig it over all by himself, so much so that I might have had to go inside. Our visitors meanwhile seemed suitably impressed with the house, though the son was slightly less impressed when his father suggested he take English lessons from me to help his communication skills business-wise. No chance of exchanging them for a spot of light weeding then.

As I coped on my own so manfully last week, Stephen took the opportunity to give me further practice in foraging for myself by heading off to Milan again on Tuesday, this time for two nights, so he could have a wander around Lineapelle. Whilst MICAM was about shoes, Lineapelle, in its own words, is an: “International exhibition of leather, accessories, components, fabrics, synthetics and models.” and provides him with the opportunity to check on trends. He was also able to get his face seen again, even if some of the people who clocked it were the same as last week.

Whilst Stephen was away, Marco the builder called by with an estimate for erecting the railings that we’re going to have made for the terrazzo. As ever, his charges are reasonable but with the current state of the pound against the euro things are starting to look a bit more expensive. I suppose we were spoilt over the summer with the high exchange rate but now with all the upheaval of the referendum on Britain’s membership of the EU it’s been steadily dropping. Still, it’s all about swings and roundabouts; we got a good rate when we bought the house so we can’t complain about paying a bit more for work now.

And talking of things work related (which is a very loose link between paragraphs), when Stephen came home yesterday it was with the news that we had been asked to dinner – we think. He’d received an email from Alessandro, the electrician, which he automatically assumed would be house related but appeared, as best we could work out, to be a very politely worded invitation to dine with him and his wife along with Marco and Maddalena. Not wanting to appear any more stupid than we already do, we checked with M&M, who confirmed our understanding of the message – so at least if we encounter a puzzled looking Alessandro on Sunday evening when we turn up on his doorstep, we won’t be alone.

And talking about food (another seamless link) we had a change of routine today as our local pizzeria is closed this week denying us our usual pizza and movie Friday night in. Instead we treated ourselves to pizza out at Pistacchio Verde, a pizzeria-cum-restaurant ten minutes down the road. I’m not sure if it was pensioner’s discount night or if the restaurant is a hot spot for the over 65s, but it was sadly satisfying to note that Stephen and I were the youngest there – and amongst the few dressed age appropriately. Moreover, one of the best things about eating pizza in Italy is that it’s perfectly acceptable to have a plate of chips for starters. Chips followed by pizza… as if you needed any more proof that Italian food really is the best in the world.