Making tracks

22nd September 2024

You should know by now that when Stephen is in Milan, while life at LCDDB doesn’t grind to a halt it does lack the effervescence that he brings to the party, and if it hadn’t been for the weather and the workers most of the week would have been without anything of note.

After a couple of mainly dry days at the beginning of the week, Wednesday turned very wet as the rain that had worried central Europe made its way down the eastern half of Italy causing havoc in Emilia-Romagna and parts of Le Marche. We escaped the worst of it, and as far as I am aware there was not any damage done. It rained for most of the day, sometimes heavily, sometimes not, but without an accompanying wind it contented itself with making everywhere very soggy.

The change in the weather did put a stop to the pipe work in the field. After an early end to play on Tuesday, there was, unsurprisingly no sign of them on Wednesday. Thursday, though, as the morning was dry, the flatbed trunk arrived mid-morning with just two men in it, and performed a very worrying three-point (well, three and counting) turn by the entrance to our drive. The insistent revving drew my attention to see one man trying to manoeuvre the truck to turn and face uphill while the other man was trying to stop him going into the banking on one side and into the gulley at the other.

They eventually gave this up as a bad job, straightened up the truck and left it facing downhill again as they went on foot, presumably to inspect the work. It wasn’t that long before they returned and that is where the real fun started. With the ground being so waterlogged, and with them stopping where the lane starts just being grass, they were unable to get a purchase necessitating a bit more fruitless revving and churning up of the ground. This was followed by the driver bellowing into his phone, a cue for the inevitable when, five minutes or so later the sound of a tractor could be heard coming down the road.

I would say you know the drill from here, but this was a bit of an elegant variation: different place, different orientation. This time Mario - for indeed, it was he – hooked the tractor to the rear of the truck and helped it reverse far enough so that it could then do a textbook three-point turn into our driveway and out again, so it was facing the right way and able to exit with very little trouble. It might have been an idea if he had done this when he first arrived, but it is always easy to be wise after the event.

On the negative side the ground, as we found when we went for our walk a short while later, was resplendent in deeply embedded tyre tracks and a particularly fetching indentation that will make a useful birdbath in the days to come. On the positive side, it kept Harry nicely occupied for a good deal of the morning as he oversaw the proceedings and barked his vociferous advice.

Despite what the weather forecast said, at least in our area, the end of the week was somewhat drier especially during the day as it seemed to keep the rain for overnight. The same can’t be said for elsewhere, and Stephen sent me a dramatic link to a news video of the retail area in Ancona where the main road had been turned into a river in spate and cars were being jostled as they tried to navigate the roundabout (why?). This was of particular relevance to us, being where Ikea is, so we are crossing our fingers that all our wardrobe components are not currently slowly warping as they dry out.

A return to what I like to think of as a Simpson sky yesterday, i.e. lots of blue and white cottonwool clouds, augured well for the weekend, as did the return of Stephen in the evening after his customary two-day stopover in Bologna on his way back. This was particularly significant as it meant, for the first time since whenever, he has actually been at home for my birthday today.

It started very pleasantly with cards and presents over breakfast. As usual, he and Harry spoilt me with lots of interesting gifts, small and large. The biggest was a leaf blower, so that next time there is a tempest and the terrazzo is covered with leaves I can just blow them back again. Not for my birthday was a very welcome haul of CBD in the usual guises – boiled sweets and gummy bears and cookies and oil – and even some free sample tea bags for, as the man said, “…our good customer from Le Marche.”

After a relaxing day, Stephen treated me to dinner tonight at CarloCarla, which was as good as ever, with the degustazione menu taking on an autumnal vibe including a very fine starter of smoked duck and lentils. I even had a candle to accompany my dessert. Well, when I say candle, what I mean is a mini-Vesuvius. Not for Italians little fairy candles in candyfloss colours. What they go in for with their birthday cakes, confections of Pan di Spagna and aeriated cream, are something more likely to be seen on Guy Fawkes night. Stephen thinks these wannabe Roman candles are called cannon, which is very fitting given their explosive nature, and I would have taken a picture to share with you but by the time I had stopped laughing it was fizzling out – just in time for me to tuck in with my spoon. Sound and fury are all very well, but nothing should stand in the way of pudding, not even a cannon.