Cutting it

Part way through the week I was thinking that this blog was going to be even more uneventful than the last one. When I say uneventful, it was actually shaping up to be a busier week, with lessons suddenly starting to kick in, just more routine. That was, however, without taking into consideration a recurring problem of life at LCDDB resurfacing on Thursday morning. I will keep you in suspense what it was exactly, though having parted company with TIM some time ago the more astute amongst you should be able to come up with the answer before I get round to telling you.

As if to underline the anticipated mundanity ahead, we started off with a shopping trip to Iper on Monday morning. This is, I appreciate, a bit radical as usually we save such a highlight till the end of the week, but as I had three consecutive 9am lessons with Michele starting Tuesday and Stephen was expecting to be called into service at the factory on Friday, it was our only window of opportunity to stock up against the looming arrival of our habitual houseguests next week. I would like, at this point, to incorporate an amusing anecdote about our expedition but as there wasn’t one we better move on.

The afternoon saw the restart of lessons with Irene and then Erica and Mara, followed by the reappearance of young Rocco and Laura on Tuesday evening. I was suitably prepared for these as they had all been earmarked well in advanced. The WhatsApp I received from Daniela, mother of Marzia over in Montegranaro, gave somewhat less notice when it came through just after lunch on Tuesday afternoon. Was I in Italy, she asked, and if so could I do a lesson before Marzia and her two cousins started back at school, and what about Wednesday at 10.30 as Marzia was away for two days after that?

Ever obliging, I, of course, said of course and hastened down to the workroom to put together some materials before heading for my last conversation session with Giulia. She doesn’t return to university till the end of September, but with my lessons starting up again marking the end of the summer break, it seemed an appropriate time to finish. As a thank-you, I took her some of my special ginger biscuits. These are a somewhat different beast from the usual secchi Italian biscotti, what with them containing golden syrup (an ingredient unknown here) combined with enough butter to give them a crispy outer and slightly chewy centre. I have yet to hear what she and her family made of them.

By Wednesday the weather had decided to settle down to being sunny and warm, which made it all the more puzzling why one of our resident geckos opted to forgo sunbathing for the cooler interior of LCDDB. The odd times in the past that we’ve had one of these little chaps as a houseguest, they’ve kept to the open areas, usually causing great excitement in Bella and Harry. This time, however, we became aware of out visitor when Stephen saw it scuttling around the logs artistically arranged behind the glass door of the fireplace. The quandary was, of course, what to do about him. Opening the door to encourage him to vacate his squat was one option, but how did we make sure he headed out the front door and avoid a Keystone Kop chase round the house if Bella and Harry somehow managed to get involved? After a brief discussion we decided that the best thing to do was to do nothing; if the gecko had managed to get inside the fireplace then surely it could get out again. Besides, there are probably enough desiccated flies hidden amongst the logs to keep him going for quiet a while.

Which brings us to Thursday and the answer to the conundrum I set at the beginning. The problem dawned on us when I returned from my last lesson with Michele; I went to fill the kettle for our elevenses, only to find the water showing a reluctance to leave the tap that indicated some issue, once more, with the pipe. This was confirmed not many minutes later when Luigi began hailing Stephen (or, as he calls him, Stephen-eh) from the drive to say that water was seeping into the same spot in the field where all the previous work had been carried out. Fortunately, Stephen had already prepared the salad for lunch (it not yet being pasta time again) so turning off the water after he had checked the field meant we could still eat.

On referring to the Internet, Stephen found that there had been a relatively minor earthquake registered for the Macerata area the previous evening, which made us wonder if that caused enough of shift in the terrain to effect a break. And indeed, when Loris and his trusty digger turned up in the early afternoon his excavation of the ground showed that the pipe had indeed moved at some point, coming nearer to the surface. This was not, however, the cause of the interruption, as the neat slice through the tubing pointed the finger of blame at Luigi and his tractor and over zealous tilling of the land. There were, I believe, suitably shamed faces, but as Stephen had business to see to at the factory, he left it in Loris’ capable hands.

It was an hour or two later that Mario appeared outside the workroom door beaming as usual and asking for Stephen. His face fell, however, when he learned he was at the Carellis’, muttering to himself that I wouldn’t understand. Well, I understood that well enough, and what he also didn’t know was that Stephen had phoned several minutes previously, having heard from Loris, asking me to test the water, which was once again flowing freely. I assured Mario that all was now in order, but he remained doubtful despite me using my best Italian. However, when I asked him if he wanted to go up to the kitchen and see for himself, he reluctantly accepted my word and went off to tell Loris to fill in the trench. We should have known that it had all been too easy.

It was later that evening that we heard Luigi once more calling Stephen-eh from the front of the house. Apparently as he and Mario were checking the water metres (I suppose they have to make their own fun) they saw that ours was going round and wanted to know if we had anything operating. As the answer to that was no, Stephen went back with him to have a look and indeed the dial was turning apace. This was impossible, according to Loris when they phoned him, as he protested that he had sorted the pipe. It was decided as a control check not to turn off the water this time and see what happened. Stephen did find time during all this to assure Mario that yes, I could understand what he said as long as it wasn’t in dialect and he spoke properly. The only barrier to communication now is that, as he pointed out to Stephen, Mario’s going deaf. The upshot of all this was we decided to abandon plans for cooking pasta and decamped to the pub for dinner instead, where a welcoming Campari made up a little for the day’s upheaval.

Friday morning, Stephen went betimes to check on the situation, to find, despite Loris’ avowal the previous evening, the area over the renegade pipe soaked darker than its surroundings. After giving me enough time for morning ablutions, he turned the water off and, as he was busy all day with a customer at the factory, left the fate of the tube in the lap of the gods – otherwise known as the Super Mogliani Brothers. The events in a nutshell, as I understand them, were that Loris came back in the morning to re-excavate the area and Andrea, the plumber, came sometime in the afternoon to check on how the land lay, saying he would be back on Saturday morning. At least this is what Mario told us when we called by after I collected Stephen from the factory that evening. Like the hero he is, however, Andrea was better than his word for when Stephen called him as we stood looking woefully into the trench, he had just parked up outside Luigi and Mario’s house, complete with the necessary items to effect the repair and thirty minutes later water was once again flowing freely at LCDDB.

This was good news for Stephen, as it meant he was able board the train on his way to Milan the next morning smelling fresh as a daisy, leaving me with a whole weekend to do as I wished – after my Saturday morning lesson with Lorella, that is, who restarted yesterday. And what I wished was very dull indeed – mainly household chores and a spot of baking. As for the trench, Loris may have reappeared at some point over the weekend to fill it in or maybe he hadn’t, but neither of the brothers appeared to keep me up to date with events. I presume that despite Stephen’s defence of my linguistic abilities, they would still rather talk with the organ grinder than the monkey.