Let wind blow free

With the return of Stephen life generally resumed the usual routine, or at least it would have if the weather had not decided to become somewhat unpredictable and unruly.

There was little indication of what was to come on Monday with Stephen back at the Carellis in the morning, though there was a slight adjustment to my lessons when I received a message to say that Diego had come home from school with a high temperature and would I be ok doing an hour with just Marzia as opposed to an hour and a half with the pair of them. Of course I would, and I wasn’t that surprised Diego had succumbed to some virus or other given the recent fluctuating temperatures.

It did mean that I was back at LCDDB a littler earlier than usual and our afternoon walk coincided with Mario and Luigi doing a bit of earth shifting. They were using their smaller tractor to scoop soil from the bottom of the field by our driveway and taking it just down the lane to spread as best they could over the squelchy area where the slant of the land exposes the water table. I have to admit to not really understanding the logic behind this; maybe they are trying to level it out more or give a firmer purchase for when they need to travel up and down the lane. It doesn’t, however, seem to my ignorant eyes to be any more effective than last year when they covered it with random pieces of plasterboard that rapidly disintegrated into a soggy mess. Before their current remedial action, we were able to walk down the relatively drier sides but these have now turned into muddy gullies. This is particularly bad news for Harry who is less than impressed by continually having his paws washed when he returns from his walks.

Having been unseasonably warm for a couple of days, the temperature actually increased on Tuesday, hovering around the 20C mark during the day. This is not right for the time of year, and made even worse by being accompanied by fierce winds which had gathered force overnight. So much so that the persimmon tree that had been given a bit of a shake in last week’s winds was subjected to a veritable cachi massacre, the ground around its base splattered with smashed fruit. These were not the only casualties, for while the house escaped unscathed, when we drove back down the lane after morning shopping it was reminiscent of the early days of motoring, with Stephen acting the Edwardian toff while I walked in front of the car. I wasn’t waving a white flag, however; rather I was in charge of clearing the path of various branches, large and not so large, and also at one point what looked like a large, round, orangey-red bath but was in fact the top of Mario and Luigi’s plastic fermentation vat for when they make wine.

How this had come to be blown away, who knows, but the brothers’ house had obviously caught the force of the wind as when we saw Luigi later in the week he said that the shutters had been blown off one of the windows whose glass had subsequently shattered. As for the aforementioned top, I leant it against the banking where they would spot it, but of the bottom section there was no sign - that is until I took Bella and Harry out after lunch and found it sitting up quite perkily at the side of the lane just past our house. Clever how it was able to roll all the way down the hill and right itself in such a convenient spot. We put this in their barn by the side of our house where it will no doubt be collected at some point.

Bella and Harry were less than impressed by being confined to barracks while the gales battered around the house, a situation made perhaps even more disheartening by us having to keep all the shutters closed, not only on Monday evening and Tuesday, but all the next day too. There was one change, though, which was that while the winds continued unabated on Wednesday, the temperature dropped dramatically, reaching -1C overnight. This was the same on Thursday but fortunately by then the winds had disappeared leaving the end of the week very cold but with blue skies and crystal clear views of the mountains.

After a couple of quiet days, both climatically and personally speaking, yesterday afternoon, after my lesson with Roberto who was back from Athens, it was time to go shopping. We had two goals: 1) to finally bring some sort of closure to our search for a new coffee machine, and 2) to find me some new shoes and a new padded winter jacket, as Stephen had decided that what I needed in my life were a pair of Blundstone’s world-renowned laceless, elastic-sided, ankle-length boots (no, I hadn’t heard of them either, but there again, that is why I keep him around). As for my Colmar jacket, that has now seen the passing of five winters and I was in need of an upgrade – especially as the other week I had slipped on the scree on the road when out with the dogs and opened up a very tiny tear in the sleeve.

As for the first of these, the coffee machine, we were partly successful with hopes of complete success very shortly. Having carried out a quick recce at the electrical store in Girasole and confirming that of the few that took the paper discs we didn’t like any, we headed the few hundred metres up the road to our friend Massimo at Click Café where, to our initial delight, we found that the smaller model was now in stock. Initial delight because the one on display, and indeed the only one in the shop, had a yellow fascia, not a colour we really desire to have in our kitchen though I’m sure it would gladden the hearts of others. All was not lost, though, as he said that it was also available in green, red and blue and if we called him at early next week after he had had a chance to contact the supplier, he should be able to get the colour of our choice in by Friday.

From here we headed up the hill towards Monte Urano and Quota CS, the renowned clothing and footwear store where Manuel had told Stephen they stock Blundstone. We stopped on the way to fill up at a very competitively priced petrol station, which is where we had the first of several chance encounters as just after Stephen hoisted the nozzle off the cradle, who should pull up at the adjacent pump but Meri (Carelli) and her boyfriend, with whom we passed the time of day. It is strange how most times you go out and about and never see anyone you know, and then other times its like they are queuing up behind the corner because when we went down to the shoe department in Quota CS, who should be one of the staff in attendance but Raffa, friend of Manuel (see above) who greeted us very warmly – and not just because she could sense we were in the mood to buy.

We fairly quickly settled on the pair of Blundstones we wanted and it was as we headed to the first floor to look at jackets that I realised I’d left my wallet in the car after paying for the petrol. Stephen went up to start looking while I went back to get the wallet and this is where you really think that there is some higher power that is guiding our actions. If I had put the wallet back in my bag, as I invariably do, I wouldn’t have been walking out the door at precisely the same time as Shoe Marco was walking in, and to make it even more of a spooky coincidence Quota is a shop he has only ever been to once before in his life and had decided to try it this afternoon after a couple of friends had suggested he should – and if I hadn’t bumped into him on the way out he would have been downstairs in footwear while we were upstairs in outerwear.

The good news about all this is that 1) he was very excited to see me and kept telling me how good I was looking (flatterer) and 2) when I came back from retrieving my wallet and went upstairs, where I had sent Marco, Stephen had found me a very nice green Rossignol jacket on sale at half price. Of course, I had to try on various other coats and jackets just to make sure, but eventually went back to Stephen’s find before heading back to footwear to help Marco decide on which two pairs of trainers he was going to invest in for wearing at MICAM (yes, it is almost that time again). I say help, but my part was mostly sitting and smiling benignly while Stephen propounded his opinion and the helpful assistant darted backwards and forwards to the stockroom.

Marco’s shoes being chosen and my purchases being paid for, we said our goodbyes (with more compliments heading my way – it was enough to turn a young man’s head so it’s just as well I am at the other end of the scale) and made for home, but decided to round off a successful afternoon with aperitivi at Totò. It is some time since we had been there, but were pleased to see the very efficient Massimo (yes, there are a lot of men with that name in Italy) back at the helm. We were just getting stuck in to the platter of stuzzichini when who should walk in with his girlfriend but Roberto, whom I had said ciao to only a few hours previously. As I said, sometimes you never see a soul you know, and at others you only have to sneeze to have someone you were at school with offering you a handkerchief.

You won’t be surprised to find that after such excitement we decided to spend a quiet day at home today, the highlight of which was shifting all the branches that had come off the trees earlier in the week into some semblance of order at the side of the lane by the lotto, it requiring two of us to move the larger ones that had ended up in the middle of the field. These, along with the other, smaller branches and various twigs, will make kindling for us next winter. It pays to plan ahead.

Staying in was a definite choice as we could have had an evening out should we have so desired as this evening saw the grand reopening (or inaugurazione) of the McIntosh after several weeks, it now being “ il pub più underground di Monte San Pietrangeli”. This is hard to disagree with, it being the only pub in MSP, either under or over ground. What has actually been done is a bit of a mystery as judging by the photos that have been posted on the Facebook page it looks more or less the same, just maybe having undergone a deep clean and with less stuff but with the addition of a pool table (no doubt as somewhere for the young folk to rest their estathé).

We will leave it till next week to find out for ourselves, Stephen believing – a view supported by some other of the more sensible minds amongst our acquaintances – that it is best to avoid anywhere that is offering free beer and attracting the interest of a crowd of people whom we never saw in the pub during the reign of Zeppa and Teresa and who are unlikely to darken its doorstep in the future. Our only concern is that when we go for dinner with Marco and Maddalena while it may be a little less manic, in making their ‘improvements’ they may have decided to dispense with serving tortellini alla boscaiola. If they have, next Wednesday will be the only time our shadows fall across its portals…