Running on empty

22nd January 2023

This past week has lived up to the theory that nothing much happens in January, and even living vicariously through Stephen and his work, this is going to be an exercise in brevity – or as near it as I can get.

The Bally man featured briefly early in the week when Stephen and Bertrando talked with him about the samples and the length of time these would take to be ready and to be transported to America. That they would take a little longer than he thought didn’t seem to faze him as he said he could always drive down to collect them in his hire car when he was in Italy and take them back with him. This beggars three questions:

a. How much volume does he think forty-odd boxes of shoes takes up?

b. How big does he actually think a Fiat Panda is?

c. How much can he charge to his company card when it comes to excess baggage?

Time may give us an answer to all these, but maybe not if someone hands young Orlando a clue.

Stephen had fun on Wednesday when out in search of petrol at a reasonable price ahead of the threatened strike by garage owners in protest at the extra tax levied by the Government, though I know this sounds like small beer to people living in the UK, where the infrastructure of British society appears to be crumbling and the BBC news app gives a daily summary of that day’s strikes. He tried the petrol station the other side of Monte San Giusto, which he passes when going to Centro Accessori and which is usually reliable for a competitive price.

Not so this time, though what the actual cost was, wasn’t absolutely clear. He thought it was a bit on the high side when he pulled up on the forecourt, but went ahead to put in €10 as the tank was running low. However, when he went to put his note in the machine he couldn’t do so as there was no price showing. What there was, was a nowty lady who shouted at him about not doing things correctly while she changed the figures on the display, meaning that when he did eventually get some petrol, there were fewer litres for his euros. Maybe she was making sure she had enough profit to buffer a lack of business for a couple of days due to withdrawing her labour.

Thursday was a late night for him, but he made up for it on Friday, arriving home shortly after 6, being able to make a quick getaway as Bertrando had flown to Paris (two hours late due to a general strike in France where they know how to do these things properly) and stopping for Friday night pizzas on the way. Yesterday was another day of rain following one on Tuesday, and I had a happy cooking afternoon making a couple of batches of meals for the freezer and labelling them with my new Niimbot thermal printing machine that Stephen bought me for Christmas, because he truly knows the way to this man’s heart.

Today made it two weeks in a row for Sunday morning shopping, but instead of lunch out we had breakfast at Funari on the way to Campiglione in the search of petrol (see above). This was accomplished with ease, leaving us time to call in at Ecocasa, the revamped Chinese store at Triangolo, between the petrol station and Girasole. While it had the feel of a warehouse, it did have a good selection but, unfortunately, not a sink protector which was the main thing we wanted. We did, though, leave with a new sweeping brush handle and a room fragrance diffuser.

Not wanting the fun to end, we stopped off at Girasole, where we did find a sink protector in the supermarket where we went to get those Sunday morning essential: bread and white wine. We also stocked up on a couple to things at half-price in the L’Erbolario, while Stephen splashed out on new underwear (apologies to those of a delicate disposition for mentioning things that side of life) at Intimissimi, at €30 for five pairs. This is a relief, as I now don’t need to worry about what people might say should he happen to be knocked down crossing the road. One can’t be too careful in these matters.