Pitter-patter

2nd July 2023

It was business as usual on Monday after a quiet weekend, and with Stephen back to full strength it was a normal working day for him. As for my pension form, that was posted on Tuesday morning, and it only took us 24 minutes from entering the Post Office to leaving it. Not bad when you consider that we had to take a step to the side to fill in the “signed for” form, not trusting our precious documents to ordinary mail, and paid the water bill as well.

With the sun continuing to shine (at least at that point), it was no surprise that Tuesday morning was the last lesson with Diego and Marzia, as time at the beach with their friends would appear to be a much more inviting prospect. Nor was it a surprise that Stephen spent time before and after work with the hose in his hand giving the orto a good soaking. Not that it seems to be doing an awful lot of good. The bizarre weather so far this season means that the tomato plants, usually thriving by this point, are really not happy with themselves. Some are struggling to make it up the support poles while of those that have, the fruit so far produced has started to rot before it has a chance to ripen. At this rate, it looks like we are not going to have enough to fill our salad needs over the summer, never mind fill the freezer for the winter.

We are not the only ones with concerns over our crops. Stephen had a quick chat with Mario on his way home one lunchtime, and Mario was saying that the wheat, which is almost ready for harvesting, has been a disappointment this year. It hasn’t grown well in places, and looking from the terrazzo there seem to be large patches of weeds. That, though, doesn’t seem to be discouraging whatever it is that has been flattening some of the wheat. Two or three times this past week, when I have been walking along the bottom path behind LCDDB, I have come across a new spot levelled by a nocturnal visitor (or visitors).

These unknown frolickers were not the only threat to the fields. We had hoped to make a full week without rain, but that went down the plughole when we were visited by a thunderstorm on Friday afternoon – and what a doozy it was too. It is, as you know, not unusual for us to have a fierce ten-minute onslaught of a summer’s afternoon, leaving the air fresher as the skies clear again. This time, it followed the usual opening gambit of darkening skies, increasing winds and a sudden deluge (so fierce my t-shirt was soaked through in the few seconds it took for me to pop my head out of the windows and pull the shutters to). But then it went maverick by continuing to rain heavily for an hour or more before lessening, but with lingering grey skies.

The evening was dull but dry, then followed by more rain overnight, and whilst the sun gradually returned during yesterday morning, the downpour had caused even further damage to our road. The couple of fissures already there opened up even further, joined by a couple more, around midway. More of the top layer had been washed away and the sides of the road are particularly craggy in places. We can manoeuvre our way out without too much difficulty, taking care with our route, but at what cost to the cars’ suspensions is something we don’t want to consider. Fortunately, with the return of sunshine the forecast for the coming week also changed from the possibility of intermittent storms on most days to sole, sole, sole. Fingers crossed they are right, not just for the sake of our road and our cars but also so we don’t have to resort to crampons when we want to go and do the shopping.

This weekend we have caught up on the couple of things that we didn’t manage to do last week due to Stephen’s slight incapacitation. The first one was the MOT on the Panda, though unlike last time with the Renegade Stephen wasn’t first in line. He had to wait his turn behind two more venerable motorists, where it was a toss-up which was older, them or their cars. In the afternoon we headed to Girasole for some bits and pieces, including coffee from our friend at Click Café and some stuff from L’Erbolario. It was then on to Totò for aperitivo, and a cake to take home, because it would have been rude not to.

As for our avian guests, things had gone somewhat quiet, prompting Stephen to take a careful peek yesterday afternoon. I am happy to say that the meter box was empty, signifying that the chick (or chicks, who knows) had successfully flown the nest, along with the mother bird. We were happy that the family found a place to grow, but are not keen on a return visit as we feel it ain't the kind of place to raise your kids. Consequently, Stephen in best Blue Peter mode, has placed a metal cap over the peephole and secured it with gaffer tape, so come next spring if we hear a tapping at the front door and see a small bird standing there, suitcase in wing, we’ll know why.