The Gift of Giving

19th December 2021

It would seem that the deluge last Saturday emptied the sky of rain as the past week, while admittedly cold, has been bright and sunny and so clear that the snow-capped Sibillini mountains have made a crisp backdrop to MSP when we have ventured both into the village, and, for Stephen, further afield.

The furthest I got to on Monday was five minutes up the road to chat lessons with Samuele and his son Diego and his friend, Andrea. The two lads seem keen (at least for the moment), wanting two sessions a week starting next week – because if something is worth doing why wait till after Christmas – though it will take a bit of a sleight of hand on my part to reconcile their requirements, with one naming speaking as the key area of concern and the other writing. Dictation anybody?

Stephen, on the other hand, was out and about with Manuel, including his bff taking him to see his glasses man, someone who offers his selection of designer spectacles only if you know the right people. Stephen was very taken with three pairs, and was offered a good deal on each of them. He needed some time to mull it over – and to visit the optician for an eye test, it being some time since his last one. This he did on Thursday morning at our old friends, Giorgiottica in Corridonia, where he also plumped for a pair of large, square, black glasses, which is what, apparently, he had his heart set on. As for Manuel’s personal supplier, that is on the back burner for the moment, as the jury is still out till after the holidays.

Tuesday we supported the local economy and mixed a spot of Christmas shopping with our breakfast stop at Pina. We are not people who buy our Christmas presents in the January sales, nor in the middle of summer, but this year we did buy three gifts at the Fermo market in August, working on the basis that they were just the thing and we would not have an opportunity nearer the time. We should have known better, for just like the debacle of the Christmas film the other week, breaking our unwritten rules came back to bite us for after days, if not weeks, of searching high, low and all points in between, we can’t find them. Hence falling back on the ever reliable Pina, where they were obviously so impressed by our bulk buying that they threw in free wrapping paper and gift bags.

It was then on to Conad where, after careful perusal of their festive menus (see last week) and a considered discussion (“So what’s the Christmas day menu?” “More or less the same as last year?” “That’s fine then.” “Yes.”) we placed our order – or we hope so. The slight doubt is that the wonderful Gabriella was not reigning over the deli counter, but instead it was her somewhat bewildered sidekick, who told us we had to place the order at the checkout.

We were right to find this puzzling, not only as before we had always given it to Gabriella but also when we got to the checkout the nice lady there said no, you ordered it at the deli. I took the shopping to the car while Stephen queued up again. He would have been a little quicker if one nimble octogenarian hadn’t jumped ahead of him, but when he did give our order (Christmas dinner for two) the bewildered lady didn’t instil a great feeling of confidence that she had understood, and looked particularly doubtful that if she put it down to “Gli Inglesi” Gabriella would know who she meant. A quick check to confirm next week would seem to be in order.

There were two things of note on Wednesday, neither earth-shattering maybe but nonetheless very satisfying in their own ways. The first was the return of Rocco – and Antonella, of course – to lessons now that his arm was finally sorted. The second was when Stephen got a call in the early evening from his bff, asking him to shoot up the road and meet him at the top. Usually when this happens it’s so he can pass over a shoe sample or two; this time, however, it was to pass over his Christmas gift. Stephen managed to contain his excitement till he returned to the house, and as it was not wrapped, he felt it was allowable to open the box, which proved to contain a whole lonza (see picture) and a bottle of white wine to wash it down with. Well, wash some of it down, as there is enough meat to slice up and see us through to Easter; all we have to do is hang it somewhere dry and airy and out of reach of curious jaws.

With no work commitments on Friday, unlike some of us, Stephen made a start to bringing Christmas to LCDDB, placing arrangements of baubles and dotting our various objets d’art de Noël around the house. This was a prelude to Saturday when he (single-handedly – I could have helped but he did choose a time when I had a lesson) set his silver tree branches in a vase in the sitting room and adorned them with a tasteful and, for us, minimal selection of our more understated Christmas ornaments. Whoever thought that the words ‘tasteful’ and ‘Christmas’ would ever appear in the same sentence?

The advanced warning that from Monday Le Marche would once again be a yellow zone meant we had a swift rescheduling and instead of going to Totò next Tuesday, as we had earmarked, we went on Saturday evening instead. There were two reasons for this visit, one was that it has been far too long since we had aperitivi there, while the other was that we thought we would use my Dad’s Christmas present to buy one of their wonderful artisanal panettone made with their own mother yeast. In the event, after a spritz, a selection of wintery stuzzichini and pizze, we opted for two smaller panettoni, a sultana one and a coffee and chocolate one, instead of one larger one, because, where both Totò and Christmas are concerned, you cannot have too much of a good thing.