A spoonful of sugar

8th May 2022

With things medical having been addressed as regards the preliminaries prior to my operation, it was the turn of things medicinal on Tuesday – though not before Stephen had given some attention to his beloved orto.

Over the weekend he had installed the canes in the allotment and on Monday morning, under the tutelage of Mr C (because he was obviously not trusted to make the right decisions on his own), he went to the nursery the other side of Cassette D’Ete to buy this year’s mix. He returned with a wealth of tomato plants plus some aubergine and courgette ones, as well as two pots of purple basil. This latter almost had Mrs C running for her rosary when she saw it, regarding such abomination as surely the work of the devil, for who would indulge in such things when the righteous green variety has long been good enough for honest Italian mammas?

Before we hit MSP for breakfast and shopping on Tuesday morning, he made a start on the planting - but not the tomatoes. These, he thought, would need a bit more hardening off in a sheltered spot before being thrown to the elements, and it was a bit. Despite Mr C sucking in his cheeks at the thought and after a brief but persistent running commentary from Stephen about whose tomatoes he’d seen already staked, he took the bull by the horns, or, if you prefer, the pomodoro by the gambo, and set them out on Wednesday, some in the morning and some in the evening. Apparently, there is sufficient room for four more, so watch this (or that) space.

It was not all good news on the gardening front, however, as in between his Wednesday planting, Stephen took our petrol lawnmower to the ferramenta to seek the opinion of Giordano as to how we might get it to work again. If you recall, towards the end of last summer the mower refused to start despite all Stephen’s persuasive powers. The same has happened the couple of times he has tried this year, so he needed a consultation with a higher power. Giordano, looking sadly at Stephen as one would a foolish child, thought that it was because someone had tried to run the machine without enough oil thus causing the engine to seize up. This is a bit of a mystery as Stephen assured him (and later me) that he’d been putting in plenty of oil. Obviously, we need to set up an investigation to find out who was sneaking in during the night, emptying out the oil and then starting the engine, having muffled it first so as not to disturb us in our sleep.

Whilst we set about calling in the CSI team, the machine was left with Giordano, who, though he may not be able to help us himself, knows a man who might. Consequently, when Stephen popped in on Thursday he was told that the mysterious Mr X had had a look, agreed that it didn’t seem promising, and had taken the mower away to open up so he could examine it properly. The good news was that he wasn’t going to charge for looking at the insides; the bad news was that it would cost as much to repair as it had been to buy. Wouldn’t it be better, therefore, suggested Giordano, to buy a more reliable (and higher-end) model from a local retailer to whom one could readily turn should anything happen; and oddly enough he had just the thing…

As for matters medicinal, on Tuesday morning in between Stephen’s vegetables and breakfast at Pina we popped into the chemists in Piazza Umberto I to gather the medication as itemised on the notes from the oculista. Gather because there are six different medications to be taken at different times and for different periods both pre- and post-op. Only four were immediately available, though the other two were collected the next morning when the efficient ordering system had delivered them. I also booked myself in for a Covid test for the day before, a negative result being required to go with the blood analyses and cardiogram.

All this, however, proved to be a bit previous for when Stephen called the nice lady at the oculist’s on Thursday, she said that she was going to call us that very morning as there was a bit of a hiccup. They had been told by the clinic in Macerata that all eye operations had been suspended; what they hadn’t been told was the reason why or for how long. There was, though, still plan B, the clinic in Cattolica, (estimated journey time on AA Route Planner, one hour and 35 minutes) with a date of 28th May. That’s only a fortnight's delay, and on the plus side we can enjoy the view of the sea on the way up the autostrada – and let’s not forget that the seats in the waiting area are more comfortable.

The weather during the latter part of the week turned a bit grey and a bit drizzly, which were, as it remained warm, good conditions to bed in the new plants but not so good for those of the family wanting to sprawl on the terrazzo. This afternoon, however, it surprised us all by clearing after lunch and becoming sunny and nigh on hot. And most opportune it was too, because as today was our anniversary we headed out after lunch for a bit of a jaunt. I had promised to buy Stephen a bay plant as a present (not as romantic as the little silver charm in the shape of a pig that he gave me for my Pandora bracelet, but more useful for adding depth of flavour to your casseroles), and garden centres in the rain are a bit glum.

We tried Cuore Adriatico first, but Obi was distinctly lacking in bay plants, which was just as well really as all their other plants seemed distinctly lacking in health and vitality. Nor did we spot any must haves when we did a bit of a recce of summer t-shirts and polos in the centre itself. Undaunted, we headed to Pellegrini, a proper garden centre and not a DIY store add-on, where we came away with not only a bay plant but two lavender ones as well.

There was another reason that we wanted to go to Pellegrini, which had nothing to do with gardening. It is on the way to Porto Sant’Elpidio, whence we continued after purchasing, and a ten-minute drive saw us parking up a stone’s throw from La Petite, our favourite place for cake. It’s a while since we’ve been there, and in that time it has moved from Porto San Giorgio, so this was our first visit in the new location. I am pleased to say that if anything it is even better than before – and not just because the owner greeted us like long lost friends when we arrived – and a slice each of orange and mascarpone sponge cake was a fitting way to celebrate seven years of married bliss, seven wonderful years that have been itch, if not entirely hitch, free.