Many a mickle

24th March 2024

Another week of bits and pieces but nothing earthshattering, so I will have to rely once again on your good natures to humour me as I try to spin literary gold from pedestrian straw.

If all else fails one can always fall back on the weather, so let’s do just that. Apart from a couple of inconsiderate rainy sessions (one just after I had cleaned the windows even though the forecast was clear, but fortunately it was during the night when the shutters were closed), it has been decidedly spring-like, and more than warm enough for me to walk the dogs without a jacket by Friday afternoon. And it hasn’t been just the weather that has shown signs of a definite change of seasons. Stephen’s last walk before bedtime with Bella and Harry is now to the accompaniment of a frog chorus (thankfully without the input of Paul McCartney) and the quince tree, that marks our return point on our walks, is in bud.

I could now bore you by saying that on Monday my parcel of the first six of S J Parris’ Giordano Bruno books arrived in a bumper package from the international conglomerate with the smiley arrow to supply my bedtime reading for the foreseeable future (no iPad in bed to avoid nose injuries when I start nodding), or that we were too brazen to hang our heads in shame when we stocked up on a selection of after dinner digestivi on Tuesday at Conad (they were highly reduced and in our defence at the rate we imbibe them, the five bottles we bought will last us well into next week), but I won’t.

Instead I’ll bore you by saying that we had our now monthly trip to Pomo d’Oro on Friday, where the most notable thing was all change with two new waiters, one apparently an apprentice, and me wondering if they sell the very fetching course weave aprons, of a decidedly burlap vibe, with the agriturismo’s logo embroidered on that the said waiters were wearing. No, said Stephen, ending that particular riveting conversation.

As for the weekend, that was spent entirely at LCDDB, focusing on domestic duties. It continuing warm and sunny yesterday prompted Stephen to empty the linen basket to get the contents washed, ironed and put away so we could fill it again. He also found time to defrost the chest freezer in the lumber room downstairs, the contents of which we have been systematically eating our way through over the past few weeks to get to a stage where the few things remaining would fit in the freezer compartment of the fridge. This will also need refilling, so we will cross our fingers and hope that Conad have some unmissable bargains on things other than those with a percentage proof on their labels.