Running on empty

14th August 2022

With work quietening down as the holiday month of August became firmly bedded in, I had the unexpected pleasure on Monday of Stephen returning to LCDDB late morning and saying that he was home for the rest of the day as there was not much doing at the office. What to do with the unexpected free afternoon? Why go shopping, of course.

There was an unfortunate reason behind this decision, in that Stephen wanted to go to Cafedelmar to see if they still had a pair of the stone-coloured trousers that he bought a couple of months ago, and which he really liked, as when he was doing the washing at the weekend, he thought they would be safe enough with a pair of my dark blue shorts. They weren’t. Neither did the shop have any more pairs in his size so it looks like he will have to convince people that tie-dying is once again in if he wants to wear them in Milan come September.

From there we drove back to MSP and Giordano’s, our friendly ferramenta, where we really had to get round to dealing with the question of a replacement petrol mower. Yes, it is some time since we were given the unsurprising news that the previous one was beyond repair, but something needed to be done about the grass around the back of the house if we going to avoid having to supply Bella and Harry with elephant guns every time they ventured down.

We had been in a couple of times, and Stephen was much taken with a super black model, with a Honda engine as Giordano kept telling us, and while it wasn’t cheap, it was value for money. Before we made the decision to buy it, Giordano took to the Internet to see what else was on offer, where he found something similar and at a similar price, but which did mulching, a word that he and Stephen kept repeating in honeyed tones. As I was there to nod and pay, I agreed with Stephen that we would go for that, but it all depended on whether Giordano could get one delivered before the end of the week, when he went on holiday, and he said he would call in fifteen minutes to let us know.

Next stop was the garage, where the Freeclimber was waiting for us, all spick and span and if not as good as new at least in something approaching full working order. Stephen drove it back to the house, and was aglow when we arrived at how much easier it was to handle (in comparative terms, of course) and was especially pleased that the steering wheel was now actually turning – always an advantage when in charge of a moving vehicle.

The fact that Giordano didn’t call us as promised on Monday evening was an indication that when he did call on Tuesday morning, while we were at the deli counter in Conad, it was with the news that he wasn’t able to get the alternative mower, the mulching one, delivered for the end of the week. This was far from being the end of the world as we had been more than satisfied with the one in the shop until the other had been dangled enticingly in front of our eyes. We said we would be there in the afternoon to collect it, but there was a further slight delay.

We were on our way in the Freeclimber, as it was roomier to accommodate the mower than the Panda, but we didn’t even make it as far as the Nero Giardini outlet before it glided regally to a stop. In his excitement the previous day it had slipped Stephen’s mind that it might need some more petrol, with most of what had been put in on the fateful Friday several days previously having not made it to the engine and leaving only a small residue. Fortunately, the container was still in the back and so, while I guarded the car and read my book (not necessarily in that order of priority) Stephen walked the short distance to Paolo’s. “Where have you stopped this time?” he wanted to know. We are so predictable.

When we finally made it to the ferramenta, Giordano took great pains whilst he was cleaning the machine as it was a trifle dusty from its time in the shop, to give Stephen a full guide on how to operate the mower. This included emphasizing repeatedly, for some reason that escapes me at the moment, the importance of making sure that it had enough oil to avoid the engine seizing, and how to check the level. We managed to get it into the back of the Freeclimber with a little gentle persuasion and the folding of the handle section, and take it to its new home, where Stephen lost no time in giving it a trial run round the garden and declaring it most satisfactory.

If that wasn’t enough excitement for one day, in the evening we headed to Computer Luca territory and the third night of the four-night Festa di San Lorenzo. So keen were we that, when one of Bertrando’s customers was so anxious for him and Stephen to go to Naples on that day he offered to hire a plane to collect them at Ancona airport, Stephen said he couldn’t do it because he was going to Borgo San Lorenzo. That said, we were a trifle disappointed that there was no lucky number stall. If you recall on our previous visit, each of our numbers was a winner and we came away laden with useful things like beanie hats, gardening gloves and a mismatched espresso cup and saucer. Apparently, according to Luca, the lady who ran it had taken her bat home as the Comune wouldn’t give her a place to hold it where the roof was not in danger of collapsing.

Apart from that, the evening was all we had hoped it would be, but whilst the food was more than acceptable we were slightly puzzled when we went for a post-dinner caffè corretto and it came to €4.90. Try dividing that by three. The after-dinner entertainment was dancing to the Cuore d’Italia Band on the specially erected floor in front of the church (we watched) and took our leave well before the gastronomic bingo started at midnight. We can’t say, therefore, what part food played in the proceedings; hopefully the prizes, otherwise it could have got very messy.

After the inaugural spin round the garden on Tuesday, with the new mower at its highest setting given the height of the grass (I use the term loosely), Stephen gave it a second going over on Wednesday, this time at the second lowest. He decided against the lowest as we aren’t looking at establishing a crown bowling green and, as the grass is so dry, it would have looked akin to when I was 9 and decided to cut my own hair with a pair of nail scissors – not one of my better decisions.

Friday, I had my last lesson before a two-week summer break and in the evening, continuing our current hedonistic lifestyle, we had dinner with Marco and Maddalena at Pina. We thought we were going to eat in the alleyway by the hotel, being the nearest we get in MSP to dining al fresco on Ischia, but unknown to us and as a surprise for Maddalena, who had expressed the wish, Stephen had arranged for us to eat on the rooftop terrace. Not only did this give us a wonderful view across the valley, but being high up and open, it was pleasantly fresh – so fresh that Maddalena needed to put on a gossamer-fine cardigan half-way through.

As ever with Pina, the food was both delicious (especially the contorni of baked artichoke hearts and plums braised in amaretto) and copious, and when we had coffee, they placed a large bottle of homemade limoncello on the table, together with four retro limoncello glasses. Although we tried our very best to make a healthy impression on the bottle, its size defeated even Marco. The doggy bag we requested ended up being an aluminium tray full of leftovers which we divvied up between us back at Marco and Maddalena’s. I can’t vouch for what they did with their share, but ours made a very tasty lunch bowl the next day, minus the limoncello, of course.