Motoring along

22nd June 2025

The start of the week was all about the cars and the weather, so let’s go alphabetically and start with c for cars.

It now being well into June, on Monday afternoon Stephen took the Panda back to the man in Rapagnano who said that the period of grace meant the MOT could still be left until July. No, said Stephen, we would do it now – there is, after all, just so much time he wants to waste driving to and from the testing place. It turned out to be a good decision as the man was not only free to do the Panda straightaway but was also free for the next half hour or so, enough time to do the Renegade as well.

That’s why anyone standing outside Bar del Borgo about 3.30 would have seen me driving past in the Jeep. I was on my way to swap over cars with Stephen following his call to drop everything and bring it for its revisione. Actually, he politely asked if I was busy and when I said no, just doing bits and pieces, he suggested that I could bring over the Renegade. I was more than happy to do so, especially as it meant ticking two things off my “To Do” list instead of one, and you know how happy that makes me.

Another was ticked off the next morning when Stephen went to the insurance place in Montegranaro (where, to his disappointment, the fierce lady was wearing a very subdued plain dark t-shirt; where were the cat designs and the diamantes?) to pay the insurance on the Jeep.  That done, the nice man again raised the question of the insurance on the house, which he has been angling for us to change from the bank to him for ages, and overrode Stephen’s (genuine) vagueness about the details by sending him next door to Unicredit and getting a printout of them.

It's moot which was quicker, his scanning of the information or his scorning of it, especially when Stephen added that they’d told us we had to wait till it was due for renewal before we could cancel the policy. He reckons, and he would, that he can get us a better deal with better coverage and at a lower cost - which is where Stephen left it, being as indecisive as me. Besides, work was calling to him as it was getting on and he still hadn’t shown his face in the office, what with Pina and Conad and the insurance business. 

As for the weather, that decided to give us a break from the incessant heat and sunshine - but all things considered, it could have done so in a less dramatic way. Monday evening I had my usual lesson over in Monte Urano, though we were rudely interrupted about halfway through when the wind treated us to fifteen minutes of gale force power, crashing round the building. It was over, thankfully, by the time I headed home, but the aftereffects made for an interesting journey.

The bits of trees strewn along the country roads were diverting, and the branches sticking out at acute angles making a bit of a chicane of some parts kept me on my toes, but having to wait near the road up to Pomod’oro while a digger moved a tree out of the way was less gripping. Oddly enough, I was wondering while waiting what must have happened to the bag of plastic I’d left on the corner at the top of our road for collection the next morning, but I needn’t have worried. In one of those strange quirks, despite the surrounding devastation, the recycling was in exactly the same place as I’d left it.

Tuesday was much calmer, and we had some sunshine again in the morning, but by midafternoon rain had set in and continued for the rest of the day, and heavy enough at times that Stephen needed to use an umbrella to get from the car to the front door without drowning. It did tire itself out overnight and we woke to a temperature of 17.5°, signalling a much fresher morning which Peggy and Harry appreciated, being able to hang about on the terrazzo without resorting to panting in the odd bit of shade. It was short lived, however, as the mini weather station showed 31° at the back of the house by evening, and it has continued to get hotter as the week has gone on.

Such is the heat that Stephen has had to be circumspect with fitting in the gardening. He was home early on Friday and used the late afternoon shade to do some odd bits and pieces, then this morning he was out after breakfast with the strimmer (a new battery powered one with a smaller head but with a metal blade) to trim the banking before cutting back the Russian vine that had taken over the back fence and swallowed the bench. This is good as it means when I take the dogs down for their midday break, I can sit in the dappled light under the canopy of the fig tree, rather than on the upper step of the back door legs akimbo and awkwardly straddling the plant pots arranged on the lower one.  

Other than that, the only thing to cause excitement was the reappearance of our hare while we were having our evening merenda on the terrazzo this evening. We would have missed it if not for the sharp eyes (or noses?) of Peggy and Harry, who rushed to the other end and started barking madly having spied it by the barn. It loped away up the drive and then up the road and we thought that was it, except the barking started up again a few minutes later when the hare, having presumably come down through the field hidden by the wheat, appeared once more by the barn. Again it hared (sorry, I couldn’t resist) up the road only to magically reappear by the barn yet again to further cacophony.

Other than taking pleasure in winding up a couple of dogs, the reason for its fascination with the outbuilding remained a mystery. What didn’t remain were Peggy and Harry as we ushered them both inside and closed the door. Third time might be a charm, but not when you are trying to enjoy a relaxing Sunday afternoon.