... as you go by

Another new month, and we can start it with the good news that Dad came home from the hospital on Wednesday, much to the relief of Mum. However, this relief turned to some degree of confusion as he now, as well as she, has carers coming in to ease his transition. Six visits a day (or is it eight, they weren’t quite sure) plus a midday hot meal delivery service means they are seeing more people than ever, an interesting development for a nation in lockdown.

As for lockdown in Italy, we are, of course, on the eve of entering Phase 2, which will have very little effect on my current rhythm of life except for hoping that we can revert to Friday night pizza from Latino Mascalzone. Word has it that Pina will be offering a takeaway service, which is tempting but as you still won’t be allowed to hobnob with friends, who’s going to help us polish off the hotel’s idea of a portion for two?

What also won’t change in the near future are my Skype lessons with Diego and Marzia, which kicked off with a qualified success last Monday. Qualified because while I was able remarkably easily to create a group and call them, they were unable to open and print the materials I had emailed previously. As Stephen pointed out afterwards, this was most likely because I had sent them as jpegs when I should have converted them to pdf documents. Who knew? If you did, then all I can say is bully for you. If like me, however, your reaction is one of bafflement, welcome to the club.

It was also on Monday that Stephen flew in the face of received wisdom (i.e. Mr Carelli) and planted his tomatoes, and though Mr C might have frowned upon his actions the heavens didn’t as, with perfect timing, we had a day of rain on Tuesday to bed them in. Under normal circumstances, this rain might have added to the stress of Stephen’s bff, Manuel, incarcerated as many others are with three teenagers, but as they couldn’t go out anyway the rain made little difference. He telephoned on Tuesday for the first time in several weeks, bemoaning his predicament and vowing that as soon as it was allowed he was decamping to his second home in Porto San Giorgio where he could tip them out onto the beach all day and take some well-deserved respite. I’m sure he is not alone in that wish.

Thursday was shopping day again, and given the sheltered life we are currently leading, we had forgotten that as the next day was 1st May we were on the eve of a public holiday. The import of this was that the supermarkets would be closed and consequently when Stephen arrived at Sigma a significant queue had already formed. He did find a couple of people to pass the time of day with while he waited but failed to discover any interesting gossip.

From here he went to the factory for our weekly parcel collection, of a sanitary bent this time as it included cod liver oil capsules and glucosamine tablets from Holland and Barratt as well as new, lightweight masks for summer wear (black, as it goes with anything as well as having a distinct The Wicked Lady vibe - never a bad thing). The Carrelis also told him that they are reopening the factory tomorrow, and it was agreed he would meet with them around 10 a.m. to discuss the way forward.

On his way home he stopped, as per, to check our post box, which has seen no activity for a good couple of weeks apart from the odd ant. This time there was a relative treasure trove consisting of five cards, all of them birthday cards for Stephen, three of which Bella, Harry and I had been looking out for expectantly for over a fortnight, and which had taken nineteen days to arrive. Not that we should complain, as another of the cards had taken twenty-two. We should be thankful for small mercies and to Poste Italiane for braving through in these troubled times and maintaining its usual standard of service.

As I said, Friday was bank holiday, and Stephen celebrated it by starting the great wardrobe change over and by dropping his iPhone into the washing up bowl when doing the lunch dishes.

As for the phone, it was no surprise to find that it more or less gave up the ghost switching on but without any sound and only a vague, washed out simulation of a picture. What to do? Well, firstly he got out his old iPhone, the one with the smashed screen from another unfortunate accident, but it didn’t want to play with the updated applications and facilities that had come into being since its retirement. As for the ducked phone, this he put into our rice container in an attempt to coax out the moisture. It was with some relief that two days nestled in a bed of basmati seemed to do the trick, and when Stephen switched it on today it was more or less back to normal. This means that when the refurbished replacement he ordered on Friday arrives, he’ll have a back up for the next time he thinks it’s a good idea to send text messages while wearing a pair of Marigolds.

As for the change over, this has stretched over three days - even with my help -partly because we have taken the opportunity to Marie Kondo our summer wardrobes and bid adieu to a swathe of polo shirts, t-shirts, trousers and shorts of a currently unfashionable cut, and other items that have given sterling service but to which it was time to say thank you and goodbye. And apparently it isn’t over yet, as I was informed this afternoon that there are still the shoes to sort out and pairs of trousers that Stephen wants to make into shorts. I just hope that we can move into Phase 3 without too much of a delay, for what is the point in looking so much to advantage if we can’t spark joy in others?