Roll with it

29th August 2021

The weather gods were indeed in sync with the rhythm of life in Italy for with the start of the grand return to home and to work the prolonged (with only minor interruptions) hot, dry and sunny spell stretching back to June started to show cracks this past week. You wouldn’t necessarily have known this on Monday morning, but as is the way clouds started gathering around lunchtime followed by distant rumbles of thunder and whilst we were not treated to any particular storms intermittent rain began in the afternoon and lasted through the evening.

This was a bit of a shame as Stephen had invited “the boys” (or rather they had invited themselves on their last beach day) to apericena at LCDDB, and for once I was allowed to join the inner circle. As it was Stephen’s do, this handed me a get out clause as he took control of the food, with a visit to the bigger (not big, bigger) Conad a few kilometres away in Magliano Di Tenna in search of a few more interesting titbits, and the whipping up of focaccia based pizza and piadina rolls as well as the obligatory Aperol spritz. The rain meant we had to eat inside, which is one way of solving how to avoid nibbling insects, but “the boys” must have enjoyed themselves as they lingered till well past our bedtime. Shoe Marco even went so far as to say that they should reciprocate, doing a bit of a barbecue for us on the beach – but once he thinks about it he’ll remember that I’m not privy to the secret handshake which might cause a bit of a problem in joining them.

The weather continued to be a bit miserable for the next couple of days. Usually at this time of year when it rains it comes in the afternoon in fierce, stormy outbursts, punctuating the sunshine and heat, but this was more like the British sulky sort. It did allow Stephen to prove his unreliability as a meteorologist, even with the aid of a smartphone, when he said that I’d be fine when dithering about what to wear for taking the dogs on their morning walk on Tuesday. It being hot, despite the lowering skies, on his guidance I settled for the classic combination of shorts and wellington boots, which was just as well for had I worn a t-shirt that too would have been drenched when the heavens opened and it came down if not in stair rods, in a very close approximation – so close that when we got back I had to wring out my socks as the rain had gone straight down into my boots.

Thursday the sun returned, which was just as well as we had planned to take in Fermo’s last market for this year. This we were able to do, and to have apericena outside at Artasylum jacketless (where our new discovery is their spritz misto, half Aperol and half Campari and wholly recommended) as well as a final wander round the stalls. We had said, beforehand, that we didn’t need anything and weren’t looking to buy, but we know how ridiculous that is. So ridiculous that we did something unheard of for us and started shopping early for Christmas, buying two little gifts from a lavender stall that will come in for ladies of discerning taste. Our friend of the visciolata was back, so we had to buy another bottle of Marchigiano “sherry’ from her to see us through the autumn (all things being equal, we should see her at Christmas, she said) and we chose a friendship bracelet each and made a wish – and I can assure you that mine wasn’t for the cute man with the truffles to be back next year after his absence this time.

Earlier in the day Stephen had been working in the orto, taking down the netting and clearing out some of the plants. This is a bit early as usually the tomatoes keep giving into September, but this year they, like everyone else’s it seems, have given up early. Maybe it was because June was so hot and that the summer overall has been very dry. Whatever, making a bit of space allowed us to stop at the ferramenta just outside Montegranaro (where we had gone early doors to gather some readies from the bank in preparation of wood and gas deliveries for winter fuel) to buy some winter veg: lettuce, parsley, cabbage, Romanesco caulis, and, wonder of wonders, the rare and exotic – at least for this region – Brussels sprouts.

He was happily planting this out in the afternoon, getting a march on the predicted evening rain so they could get a good watering, when Mario and Luigi appeared on their tractor to ferret about in the barn as they like to do. Naturally they asked what he was planting but Stephen didn’t get further than “Insalata.,” which was enough for the brothers to exchange an amused look before shimmying away. If only they had waited till he got to cavolo di Bruxelles they could have split their sides.

With the weather continuing a bit mixed over the weekend it was an ideal opportunity for Stephen to reattach his decorating head and make inroads on the bedroom. He did, though, take time off for our beach walk this morning, it being again clear with light clouds in a sort of Simpson sky way. Despite the return of the sun, a fresh breeze did mean the temperature hovering in the low 20’s, meaning that only we hardy British types who had left their Green Passes in the car breakfasted outside at Funari. This also, together with the unofficial official end of the summer season, meant that the beach, at least initially, was a bit empty.

Gradually, however, it became more populated, though the jury was out on what the appropriate dress code was. Some we passed were in just their swimming costumes, others added a t-shirt and a few opted for an extra layer of a light jacket. It being Italy, though, there were those who thought that hitting the low 70’s was a harbinger of winter and one particular mother and daughter combo we passed were particularly well wrapped up and showed their displeasure with the weather by clutching their jackets tightly around their necks, shoulders hunched against the bitter wind (or, if you prefer, light breeze). Goodness knows how they’d manage on a Saturday night in Newcastle.