The heat is on

6th June 2021

With the wardrobe change over completed and the weather set in fair, it seemed like time for the other sign that summer is definitely here: populating the terrazzo with the summer furniture. This year, as a portent of better things to come, the chairs outside the front door and the sunbeds on the larger area at the side of the house have been rejoined by the dining table and chairs. There seemed little point in getting these out last year, given one thing and another, but maybe if all goes well we might actually get to do some entertaining over the next couple of months – a prospect made all the more likely by a surprisingly sociable second half of the week.

Before that, however, with a day at home on Wednesday as Italy celebrated the Festa della Repubblica, the day marking when it voted to get rid of the monarchy, Stephen fittingly enough used the holiday to rid our garden of some more of the seemingly never ending piles of leaves. This time he used a different, and maybe a slightly more tricky tactic, as he made a little bonfire. Still, keeping a wary eye on them and standing by with the hose in case of emergency seemed to ensure that nothing untoward happened.

Seemed to, that is, until the afternoon when, as I was working in the downstairs office, I hear Stephen calling to me from the garden as the bonfire had somehow set alight again after being dormant for six hours. And not only was the bonfire alight; the flames had ignited some of the grass in the direction the breeze was blowing and Stephen wanted me to go and check that the crop in the adjacent field had not caught light while he got the hose on the bonfire. Fortunately, other than charred grass, there was no further damage but I was a little surprised later that night when Stephen let slip to Marco in the pub that he had put more dry leaves on the spent fire, which might have had not a little to do with its resurgence. For some reason he had omitted to tell me that detail.

Hold on, I hear you cry, did you say pub? I did indeed, for Wednesday evening saw our first visit to the MacIntosh since last summer as well as the start of a social whirl – or rather, in my case at least, a gentle rotation. Maddalena had been in touch last week to suggest that now you could again eat inside we should meet for a catch up. The pub was pleasingly but safely busy, with people distanced and wearing masks – at least inside, I can’t vouch for the youngsters outside but you know how giddy they get with an Estathé inside them. As for what went inside us, we tried our best not to let the doctor down but we had to stretch the dietary boundaries a little. Still, a chicken burger (without bacon for me), one glass of beer, and a bowl of chips and one of onion rings between four was not, I think, pushing the boat much further out than the shallows.

Then began a rather busy couple of days for Stephen when he set out the next morning after breakfast to meet with Mirco shortly before 8 and accompany him to Ancona airport to meet his customer, J, from England who was flying over for two days to sort various things out with the factory. I saw very little of Stephen during this time and fended for myself as best I could on Thursday, though my plans for a solitary dinner were put on hold when he called in the early afternoon to say that I was invited to the Carellis with him and J that night to eat pizza. This we did, trying as best we could to moderate our intake though so little did Stephen eat (comparatively speaking) that I felt obliged to accept Mrs C’s offer of some left over pizza to take home.

Stephen was even less present the next day, for as well as leaving early (this time without breakfast) he did not, unlike the previous day, manage to come home for an hour before dinner. It was a particularly hectic day, for besides all the shoe business they also had to factor in a visit to Emotest for J to be tested for you know what and a return trip to pick up the results. These were, fortunately, negative, which meant that he was able to fly home yesterday morning (a third early start, but at least this time Stephen was home just after 10) and enjoy a period of quarantine – but I think he thought it was worth it. Before that, Stephen had his third meal out in a row when the four men after travelling together in the same car had to sit socially distanced apart at the restaurant, as only two of them were from the same family. I, meanwhile, kicked off my shoes, warmed up the left over pizza and watched Star Trek The Next Generation on Netflix. Never let it be said I don’t know how to live.

After this busy interlude you won’t be surprised to learn that we have had a quiet weekend– and with the temperature hitting 80C there has been even less incentive to put oneself out. The onset of properly hot weather and the finishing of the school year yesterday make it seem that summer has definitely arrived. With any luck we might even manage to get in a walk on Porto San Giorgio beach in the near future as I still have a pair of Vilebrequin swim shorts, a pre-Pandemic birthday present, waiting to be christened. It’s just as well I know how to rock a retro look… allegedly.