Tanti auguri

With Stephen away at MICAM, life should have been quietly ticking over at LCDDB, but that was not really the case where Harry and his ongoing fascination for the baby hedgehogs were involved.

Things had quietened down last week as it finally sunk into his head that our spiny guests were no longer hiding under the compost bins or the ivy in the corner. Unfortunately, he then picked up their scent over the weekend and realised that they were taking their daytime naps just over the fence in the small copse by the lane. Again, there was some whining and pulling at the wire, but I felt relatively secure that he couldn’t get to them. What I had failed to take into consideration was that one of the hedgehogs might be able to get to him. Which is why, after I let him and Bella down after lunch on Monday while I sorted myself out for their early afternoon walk, I came down to see Harry prancing round the garden, head high and immensely pleased with himself, with a hedgehog in his mouth.

He was so caught up in his own little bubble of self-satisfaction that I was able, with very little trouble, to collar him and make him drop the animal. I then used a small shovel that we keep handy at the back of the house (I will let you come to your own conclusions what it is used for in a garden with two dogs), and which I had grabbed before grabbing Harry, to gently scoop up the hedgehog and return it to the copse. It lay there for quite a while, causing me some concern when I kept going to check on it, but eventually I spotted signs of breathing and then later it had disappeared, presumably in search of some tea.

Fortunately, neither Harry nor the hedgehog inflicted any damage on the other: the hedgehog being so young its spines were not fully developed and Harry because he actually held the creature quite delicately in his mouth, seeing it as a plaything rather than a tasty titbit. The irritating thing was that whereas before he had made a beeline for the far corner, he now went straight to the copse area when we went down into the garden, where he sat quietly on his haunches if no hedgehogs were present or barked and whined and scrabbled at the ground if they were. This went on till Friday when Stephen, having returned from Milan, via Bologna, the day before moved the pair across the lane and down a bit, well away from the house. This didn’t, however, stop Harry from sitting and gazing hopefully through the fence.

As for the weather, that started the week as it finished the last one: hot. So fine was it that on Tuesday, when the temperature was nudging 30C, Mario and Luigi were out and about on their tractor looking for things to do. That is why, whilst I was preparing my lunch, I heard Luigi hailing the house. ‘Stephen-ay!’ he was calling from the banking by the barn and when I went out I saw him standing by a tall sapling while Mario was nearby with the tractor. I explained Stephen was in Milan and would be back on Thursday night, whereupon he started shaking the sapling, and asking me something about it. I have no real idea what he was saying but think it had something to do with cutting it, but before we all got too confused the brothers grinned at each other and said they would speak to Stephen-ay about it. That put me in my place.

After a break for the summer holidays, it was back to the Studio Odontoiatrico to see what Claudia had in mind for my teeth. In the short term, it was a thorough cleaning and polishing while in the medium term it is to return in a month to have a couple of small fillings that showed up less than sparkling after the overhaul. As for the long term, she has her eye on filling the gap in my upper molars where a tooth was extracted many, many years ago in the days when the default treatment was to whip it out. She explained that a replacement was important because a missing tooth means that you don’t chew evenly, favouring the opposite side of the mouth. She also explained that it may not be an easy thing to do, if at all, as that part of the upper jaw is made of thinner bone being just below a sinus cavity, and she will need to consult with the dental surgeon.

You may be wondering why I felt it important to give you all these details and why you should find them interesting. Maybe so you, like me, can ponder the conundrum of why I wasn’t able to understand Mario and Luigi when they were talking about cutting a tree down (I think) but perfectly able to follow Claudia’s reasons for and explanation of the dental procedure. The answer I came up with is that Claudia speaks Italian, but you may have other suggestions.

As I said earlier, Thursday saw the return of Stephen but it was also the return of the rain and Vanna’s second lesson, this time at Helen Doran. We are going to try for two again next week, so fingers crossed. The sun then returned on Friday but not with enough power to stop Stephen from taking some of yesterday afternoon to stow the sunbeds away for another year, along with the dining chairs but not the dining table. That this last remained in situ was, apparently, my fault, for while he did all the removal while I was busy working in the downstairs office I should have known by osmosis what he was up to and dashed to lend a hand. Colpa mia.

At least this was more successful than his wrangling with the washing machine, which, after dealing with the dogs’ bedding this morning, decided to refuse to work, settling for flashing the initials dC at us instead. These, unsurprisingly, re tell you that the door needs closing, but as it was, in fact, closed, we took to the manual and then to the Internet to find some help. We followed all the advice offered – checking the seal was clean and free from any small bits and pieces; redistributing the load; checking the balance and, finally, removing the top to make sure the springs were in good order – but all to no avail. There was nothing for it but to leave it till we can phone up the service line tomorrow.

We didn’t, however, let this mechanical setback spoil our Saturday evening, when Stephen took me to Mandi in Civitanova, it being the eve of my birthday, for my birthday treat. We had a lovely time; the food was as good as ever and the night warm and clear enough for a spot of pre-dinner window shopping, and though a certain Italian friend of ours scoffed when Stephen told him we were eating at 8pm, we weren’t the only customers at that time, and it also meant I got home before I turned into a pumpkin.

As for the today, I suppose I should say that we spent it doing lots of fabulous things in exotic places so you won’t think we are just sad and boring. What I have actually been doing, though, is… nothing, and given that finding time to relax is what we find so very hard to do, it was a real treat. And that wasn’t the only treat as we were invited to call round at Marco and Maddalena’s after dinner for coffee, some of her auntie’s very fine tiramisu and a choice from a selection of small cakes. Anyone would think it was my birthday.