It's in the bag

10th September 2023

The first full week of September and it wasn’t so much back to school as back to the old routine on Monday morning when I reclaimed breakfast duties while Stephen took Bella and Harry out for their short early morning walk. Our longer one reverted to a couple of hours later – not that they seemed to notice any difference. We also decided, midweek, that while it continued sunny and warm, getting into the high 20s, we no longer needed the umbrella for the front door, which Stephen packed away downstairs till next year.

As for the recalcitrant lawn mower, we took it into the ferramenta on Tuesday morning, when Giordano’s incredulity that Stephen had managed to break yet another machine was tempered on learning that it really wasn’t his fault. After a quick examination, during which Giordano admitted that he didn’t know where the curved metal bit came from either, he said to leave it with him and if he couldn’t sort it, he’s sure his go to man for such matters could.

As for its current state, that is unknown at the moment as once breakfast and shopping were out of the way, most of the rest of Stephen’s week was taken up by his client from the UK. Jeremiah had arrived the evening before and once I freed Stephen from his domestic commitments, the two rendezvoused at the factory and for the next few days I was lucky to get any quality time with him.

He was home around seven on Tuesday, but it was ten on Wednesday when I lunched and dined alone as Stephen was out all day. I say all day, but he and Jeremiah did call by briefly, disturbing Harry’s siesta as he sprawled next to me on the settee in the back room while I had my caffè and a bit of a sit down before getting on with the afternoon. They had stopped at Totò for lunch, not realising that it closed at one. Still, it was enough time for the nice lady to rustle up a sandwich each and for Stephen to buy a carrot cake and a loaf of sour dough bread, which he left me to deal with as they went on their way.

I fared a little better the next day when he called late morning, just after I had made a sandwich, asking if I wanted to join them at Pina for lunch. After confirming that it was just those two, that it was not going to take three hours and that it would just be a plate of pasta, I made with the cling film for my sandwich (that was Friday sorted, anyway), did a few odds and ends and met them as arranged.

Jeremiah was most taken with the downstairs dining room at Pina, though at first he thought we had walked into someone’s parlour, being fooled by the sideboards and liberal display of family photographs. Maybe, though, the number of tables set for lunch might have given him a clue to its real purpose, as well as all the men (and one woman, there with her grandson) tucking into primi and secondi. As ever, the pasta (maccheroncini with ragù) was as good as it was plentiful, and the amuse bouche served while we waited of bruschetta soused with their own olive oil had him eager to buy some to take home. Shame they don’t sell it, and that the UK decided to leave the EU so you can’t actually do that anymore. Still, it was a rare midweek treat for me to do lunch out, made even more special by Stephen generously standing aside to let me pay.

He did manage to make it home by 7.30, though, and with Jeremiah flying back just after lunchtime the next day, it was six on Friday, just in time to field a call from the father of a potential student. Rocco had asked in the morning when I was having my hair cut if it was ok to give my number to a friend of his who wanted English lessons for his young son. I said of course, and obviously no time was wasted. He called in the evening and it was arranged that I would go to their house, fifteen minutes away in Monte Urano – it’s only taken eight years for my fame to spread that far - next Wednesday evening for an initial meeting.

As for the weekend, yesterday evening was taken up with two of our favourite, if not indeed our two favourite, activities, shopping and eating. I had mentioned a couple of weeks ago that I fancied a new shoulder bag, the one I currently use having seen a few years’ service and being maybe a tad on the small side if I wanted to fit in anything more than a phone, a wallet, a shopping list and a pen. Stephen said he would buy me one for my birthday, to which, after a token show of reluctance, I agreed. A bit of a search online proving fruitless we headed for the bright lights of Civitanova to see what it had to offer. What it did have to offer in Steni, the leather goods and suitcase shop, was not one, but two bags, both Piquadro. One, new in this season, was a more relaxed look in a green textile and the other a more classic look in black (Stephen said it was more anthracite) leather marked down in the sale.

It was hard to choose. I liked them both, and the more I paraded up and down the shop with them slung over my shoulder checking them out in the full length mirror the more I was dithering. Stephen, ever the voice of reason, said in that case, if I couldn’t make up my mind then I should have both. So I did and dilemma solved, until I have to decide which one to sport next time I go out.

It was then time to eat, though the destination was a mystery to me as Stephen had chosen it after, I later found out, much consultation with Cecilia for somewhere that did meat. Where she suggested, and all credit to her, was Ars Vivende, an enoteca just down a bit from the main square, which was indeed a good find –as not only was the food very good but booking a table for 7.30 was no problem, and, amazingly, there were already people eating dinner AND they were Italian.

Although the fine weather is due to continue for the foreseeable future, this morning was our last beach walk as next week Stephen will be in Milan, the following week he will be sorting out after his return late on Saturday, and the week after that we will be in Pesaro. To make the most of it not only did we enjoy a very pleasant passeggiata, we also stopped off at Maria Teresa for some cannelloni, being lucky this time in snaffling the last one. We were on tenterhooks, though, as there was a queue of four people ahead of us, and then we had a shortish delay while one of the ladies waited for some freshly breadcrumbed olive all’ascolana to be packaged up in ice and a Styrofoam box because she was taking them to Norway that evening, like you do.

On the way home we stopped off at Mario and Luigi’s house as Stephen spotted them taking life easy in the shade of the trees, and needed to remind them that they had agreed earlier in the week to stand by with the tractor tomorrow morning. We are due our delivery of wood for this winter, but the woodman, when in negotiations with our agent (bff Manuel of course) would only agree to come to the house if the tractor was available to help him to get back up, should it be needed. Given the state the road is in, that seems pretty much guaranteed, but as to the state the woodman will be in, to find that out you will have to tune in again next week. Cross your fingers for us.