Precious

14th February 2021

I must start this week’s blog with an apology to both my devoted readers as, with all the excitement of authorising documents and finding the missing election cards (that which is lost shall be found) I had forgotten last week to mention a relatively minor but nonetheless significant milestone when we went on Sunday afternoon to take Marco his birthday present. This, under those famed normal circumstances, might not be considered anything of note, but it constituted our first social outing since my birthday dinner at Pomo d’Oro back in September. I am happy to report that it all went off safely and successfully, not least Marco’s joy at unwrapping his present: a edition of Monopoly based on his beloved Roma football team. Maybe in another five months we’ll get to play it.

Other than Stephen sending the overpriced copies of my residency and carta d’identità off on Monday morning (€10 signed for on delivery, just to add to the expense, but worth it to avoid going through the palaver again) things were definitely shaping up to be distinctly anticlimactic, that was until a message came through on WhatsApp when we were having breakfast on Thursday morning. It was from my nephew, Jonathan, with two pictures of Sarah Noémie, who had made her entrance into this world shortly before 1 am, a week early but looking an absolute poppet as only someone with my genes (admittedly, somewhat distilled so maybe I can’t take all the credit for her gorgeousness) can. Welcome, little one, and may you know much love and happiness.

Thursday was also Giovedì Grasso, the start of Carnevale for this year, though as far as we were concerned there was a distinct lack of grasso but we did manage the odd biscuit so let’s hope that counts. Friday had a brief moment of excitement when Harry was in one of those very terrier dumb insolence moods where he was deliberately ignoring my calls to come and get his lead on for the post-lunch walk. With a calculated dummy move on his part, I thought he was going to hare away round the back of the house but instead he side-stepped me and raced out of the gate which I had left slightly ajar.

What fun he had chasing around the barn and the copse and up and down the lane (without, fortunately, straying too far) until Stephen went off to get our secret weapon, prosciutto. One sniff of a spot of cured meat and he sat to attention as if butter wouldn’t melt. It was just as well we got him in safe and sound as later, when I was returning from my lesson in Montegranaro, coming down the road I passed our hawk perched on the telephone wire looking majestic, and from the spread of his wingspan when he took flight, hoisting Harry up for bird’s eye tour of the local countryside would have been well within his power.

Saturday we had the pleasure of waking up to a winter wonderland. That might be a slight exaggeration as we were not knee-deep in snow but there was enough for our first (and only?) fall for the winter to get Harry excited and send Bella scurrying back inside the moment her nose inched out of the doorway. My morning’s lesson was cancelled as ours was not the only road made treacherous by the snow, which persisted in coming down albeit lightly, until lunchtime. Despite it not being particularly blowy, something had managed to dislodge a couple of branches from the trees at the back of the house, the larger of which came down sometime late morning or early afternoon when things had calmed down and which, by a small miracle, just managed to miss the fencing. The day was significantly brightened, however, when we received a call later in the afternoon via WhatsApp from Jonathan and we were able to see Sarah Noémie in full living cinemascope, looking just as enchanting as in her publicity shots. Not that she obliged by putting on an entertainment for us, for most of the time she slept the sleep of the innocent – or maybe the sleep of someone who had woken her parents up during the night demanding to be fed.

Which brings us to today and the feast of St Valentine, though maybe it was more of a famine seeing as the restaurants were only able to open for lunch. We were going to treat ourselves to something fabulous from the Maria Teresa pasta shop in the village but were still wary of braving the roads around MSP and our one in particular. Instead, we had some of Stephen’s homemade ragù, which was just as good if not better. As for presents, I had a goodie bag with chocolate hearts in a bijou wooden box, an ‘I love you’ scented candle, a new black and red strap for my Fitbit, an elegant tube of the finest fruit pastels and a cute key ring of an elephant holding a heart. Well done my anonymous Valentine. As for Stephen, his

unknown admirer gave him a brown bear, or rather funded his adoption of one via WWFAdria – and if you are wondering why on earth he would want a hirsute creature of more than generous proportions then you obviously don’t know Stephen.