Shaken but not stirred

19th November 2023

What should have been a fairly humdrum week had its moments of drama, not supplied by the road this time, nor really by the weather although this continued to be erratic, at least where the temperature was concerned. What shook us up was an earthquake on Tuesday evening.

I was minding my own business, doing a spot of stuff on the computer when shortly after five o’clock the room started to shake and the pots started to rattle in the kitchen. By the time I got over the surprise, realised what was happening, called Bella, (Harry was already outside, in the garden barking at a distant tractor, which is something he seems to enjoy) and made it outside, the shaking had stopped. We waited a few minutes to make sure there was no aftershock then went back in.

Stephen arrived home a little while later, having left work early when the quake hit, to check we were all ok. We were, and so was the house as best as we could tell. He reckoned that it wasn’t a total surprise and that it is all connected with what is happening in Iceland, where a volcano appears to be priming itself to blow and a lot of movement has been detected in the tectonic plates. Fingers crossed that this manifestation is the end of it, as it was a bit close for comfort. The epicentre was not far up the road, near Servigliano, so while its magnitude of 4.3 may not be on the higher side, it was high enough considering its proximity.

I dare say the two things are not connected, but the following morning the temperature had taken a sudden leap up the scale, reading 20.1° when we got up and rising steadily through the day. This was good news for Harry and Bella as we were able to leave the door open for them to potter in and out (or at least I was, after I returned from the dentist for my clean and polish and check-up, all ok for another year) though maybe not such good news for the planet. It obviously couldn’t make its mind up, though, as Thursday we woke to 7.5°, Friday 17.5°, yesterday 5.7° and this morning a definitely chilly 4.1°. We’re hoping it decides to settle there, for while the family might need gloves and scarves when taking their first walk of the day, it also means clear skies and sunshine, which is no bad thing.

And that was about it bar the shouting, if you don’t count my encounter with Mario and Luigi’s turkeys which were taking a constitutional the other morning, at the same time as me and the dogs. Friday, we ate at the pub, being joined by Marco and Maddalena for burger and chips. I managed to leave my cap, but an exchange of messages assured me that it is waiting for me when we pass by. That’s not something we’re in the habit of doing, the pub and us keeping different hours, though it does provide an excuse to go for a plate of pasta next weekend, maybe.

Yesterday, Stephen went with bff Manuel to change the SIM card in his phone. Wait, you cry, didn’t he do that the other weekend? Yes, but having experienced some difficulties with Vodaphone (like stopping him roaming; no comment), he reckoned it was time to move to TIM. Manuel, his usual helpful self, took him to a shop the other side of Piano di Montegiorgio where, being Mr Business man, he summarily moved to the head of the queue and then while Stephen’s new account was being set up, returned to Mr Helpful and gave a lift home to a woman who had completed her business and was fretting that her husband hadn’t arrived to pick her up. As for Stephen, the transaction seems to have been completed (and in double-quick time, the assistant said it would take till the 22nd, but he got a message after lunch that it had been done) and seems to be working ok. Fingers crossed.

And so we come to today and a little jaunt out this morning for some essential business. First, we had to drop by Coal as I’d forgotten to buy shallots on Friday, necessary for Stephen’s customary Sunday lunch dish of pasta with tuna. You may think the bill of almost €23 a trifle excessive for some wannabe onions, but not when you take into account a pack of Activia that I also forgot to buy, as well as three packs of butter, a box of Mon Chéri and a box of Pocket Coffee, which were all on offer at greatly discounted prices (the chocolates are to put away for Christmas, honestly) and a panettone (one of the cheaper varieties, it is only November, after all) to have with our evening coffee.

After picking up a couple of parcels at the Amazon hub in the supermarket’s Zona Relax and a not insubstantial detour to Torre San Patrizio to fill up the Renegade with what currently passes as reasonably priced diesel, it was back to within striking distance of LCDDB and a stop off at the Nero Giardini outlet to see if they had some jeans for me, partly because in the wardrobe changeover someone seems to have misplaced one of my pairs and partly because for a period of two weeks there is 20% off all the prices. We had qualified success; we did find a very suitable pair though several other pairs of trousers that I tried on seemed to be of a very doubtful cut. The same could be said of the jumpers I tried on, too, but I did find one that we both liked – at least enough for general wear come the wintery days of January.

It may be the last time we pick up a bargain at the outlet as the nice lady assistant that Stephen knows, because, like half the village it sometimes seems, she used to work in the RemRom factory, said that the clothing is not going to be replenished and they’re going to concentrate on shoes. Typical; after seven years of living a stone’s throw away, we finally decide to patronise a nearby business (if twice in one year can be counted as such) and it decides to cull its range. So much for shopping local – unless, of course, you count the Amazon hub.