Living life vicariously

20th March 2022

I have to say at the outset, thank goodness for Stephen otherwise there would be very slim pickings again this week, for while he was away oiling the wheels of, if not quite industry, at least commerce, I was kicking my heels around the old homestead, that is, when I wasn’t taking a lesson or queuing at the Post Office.

And what, I hear you cry, had occasioned a trip to see Paolo? Paying the bill for the recent delivery of gas. This occurred when we were out and instead of paying the nice Mister Man, as we usually do, we had to wait for the bill to come through the post. Those of you well versed in these things, will not be wrong in pricking up your ears at this, and you would be right. When I said a recent delivery, that may have been generous as it was sometime in early February on a Friday morning when we were out doing the shopping, hence being unable to pay at the time.

Usually, therefore, the fact that the bill and confirmation of payment takes the standard Italian time to work its way through the various systems (i.e., weeks) doesn’t bother us. On this occasion, though, we didn’t want to be marked down as non-payers so when the bill arrived at the weekend, we were pleased to see it, until we saw the bit that said we had until 13th March to settle it. That wasn’t going to happen then, what with everywhere being closed, so it was with slight trepidation that I had handed the paperwork over the counter to Paolo, waiting for red lights to start flashing and alarms to start wailing, but no such luck. He took the payment, bid me farewell and I left with not the slightest whiff of drama. What a disappointment.

Whilst that was the highlight of my week, Stephen was having a much more exciting time in the great metropolises (or, if you prefer, metropoleis)

of Italy. After three hopefully fruitful days at the fair, he took Wednesday to do what he does best, scour the shops, in what he helpfully named his Green Vintage Day. I know this because that is how he labelled his pictures on Facebook, as he was so busy he was in an apparent communication blackout as I didn’t hear from him until he returned home in the late evening, tired but triumphant.

Thursday, he travelled from Milan to Bologna to do the shops there. It struck me as a bit odd that he had planned two days there, as in the past it has been just one. And so, I found out by chance during a casual conversation, it was in this case as when I said to him on his departure that I would see him next Saturday and he said yes, what he actually meant was Friday. In the interests of fairness, I have to say that he disputes this, and that he told me ages ago that he had changed his travel plans, but unfortunately for him, I’m the one with the power of the pen. That though is small beer because what really occupied his mind during his time in Bologna was whether to splash out that day’s budget on liver and onions for dinner or a sleeveless jumper he’d seen in a shop. Talk about the horns of a dilemma.

Confusion aside, he was safely collected and whisked home on Friday evening, though it wasn’t till yesterday that he unpacked his case. And what does a man who has been in both the style capital of Italy and the hipster one bring home to his loved ones? Why, two espresso glasses to make up for breaking one of our Click Café pair; a Victorinox table knife with a yellow handle to replace the one that mysteriously disappeared sometime last year leaving us with an incomplete rainbow set; a new kitchen sink mat (grey), and a pair of kitchen tongs, black plastic, the rubber tips on our old pair having perished. He knows the way to a man’s heart.

If that wasn’t enough excitement, we also made the most of the sunny (but still fiercely chilly) weather this morning for a mini tour, which I will detail if you promise not to get too giddy. First stop was the Chinese store in Monte Urano for some A4 envelopes and plastic wallets, then to Totò for a morning treat of cappuccino and cornetto before heading back to MSP and Coal and a bag of potatoes (somehow omitted from Friday’s shopping list) and finishing at Maria Teresa’s pasta shop for ricotta and lemon ravioli for lunch. Some morning, don’t you think, and I am open to offers for the film rights though I reserve the final say on casting. I’m thinking Bradley Copper for me and for Stephen, Jake Gyllenhaal.