What a caper

15th May 2022

While all has gone quiet on the lawn mower front, with even Giordano having nothing to say on the matter when Stephen dropped into the ferramenta as Mr Fixit had not been in touch, the same can’t be said for matters ocular.

On Tuesday morning, while Stephen found a parking space, I popped into the chemist’s to change my tampone appointment from this Thursday to next Friday. However, when the nice lady from Dr Scorolli’s office phoned in the evening it was to check that everything was still ok for the 18th. Well yes, it makes little difference really to us, but Stephen was taken aback as she had definitely said 28th when he spoke to her last week, citing a conversation they’d had about traffic on a Saturday. As, during the conversation, she reminded him that application of the two sets of drops needed to start on Sunday 15th, we are now working on the basis that my intervention is next Wednesday at three o’clock, meaning that I was back at the chemist’s on Friday morning to change my Covid test yet again – hopefully for the last time, I remarked while we chortled over life in Italy.

Apart from changing appointments, my week continued much as it usually does, even if Stephen was absent from LCDDB for a significant part of it, including three successive lunchtimes, with things at the factory and two different sets of visiting customers demanding his attention. Wednesday he was out all day but made it back in the evening in time for dinner. He was due to go out late morning on Thursday but had to change plans slightly as when, just before 11 o clock, I got in the Panda to go and collect Alessio, my student, it refused to start. That was more than a bit disconcerting as it is the Freeclimber that is supposed to be unpredictable and not the ever-reliable Panda.

As Stephen was still hanging around, waiting till after I had completed my complimentary taxi service, he came to the rescue and went up in the Freeclimber, and then hung around a bit more to take Alessio back up afterwards – with the added bonus that he was able to make my sandwich before he left. Whilst he may have had the morning at home, that was all Stephen saw of it that day, not returning until gone midnight. He managed a few hours of sleep before returning to the factory next morning, abandoning me to breakfast alone at Bar del Borgo. The last laugh, as they say, was on him, as Romina had, in addition to the usual array of pastries, a particularly fine apple cake which I made sure to let Stephen know about.

As for the Panda, that was fine after spending the previous day on charge, and took me both to MSP for the shopping and to Montegranaro for my afternoon lesson. Stephen had, though, found time the day before to arrange contingency measures should the battery have failed again, but fortunately Mr C didn’t need to pick me up and take me to Coal, nor did Meri have to drive me to Marzia’s house. As for Stephen himself, he was at home when I returned in the afternoon, both sets of clients having exited MSP after lunch (where Mrs C excelled herself in supplying a vegan alternative for one of them even if she couldn’t really get her head round the concept) and ready to relax for the weekend.

After a quiet Saturday – partly to recuperate and partly because the temperatures have been steadily rising and are touching 80º in the shade, bizarre readings for this time of the year, we made the most of the vaguely cooler temperatures this morning for a trip out – once we had swapped cars for again the Panda refused to start. The battery is obviously not happy, which is a bit unreasonable of it as it is only seven years old. Mark that down as another thing to be sorted next week.

As for our little jaunt, after breakfast at Funari we continued on to Porto San Giorgio for Il Mare in Fiore, and the two-day market in the main square, partly plants and partly the usual suspects. One stall had four plants for €10, and Stephen opted for three of borage and one of basil (for, in summer, one can never have too much of the latter) before being seduced by three caper plants when the stallholder said he would give us a good deal on them. Even at a discounted price they came in somewhat more expensive than the herbs, but they will more than pay for themselves when we are self-sufficient in capers.

After adding to our haul with some artisanal honey, a healthy jar of anchovies in oil and some dried apricots, because why not, we decided to stop at Globo on our way out to see if they had any likely lightweight summer trousers for me. They did, and after trying on a variety of styles and sizes, there being as usual no rhyme or reason to waist measurements, we left with two pairs. This, though, put us in a bit of a quandary, as the morning was coming near to a close and by the time we got home it would be putting us way behind schedule for our usual Sunday lunch of pasta with tuna.

(Warning: unless you are a particular connoisseur of the mundane, I would skip the following couple of paragraphs as they offer nothing other than an examination of the dull minutiae that make up our lives.)

What to do? We discounted a detour to Altamare and self-service heaven as it was too far out of our way, and we wanted to stop at the cheap petrol station to feed the Freeclimber. There was nowhere in Girasole unless you wanted pizza, which we didn’t, but I came up with the suggestion of Il Priore and its extended menu that we discovered on the night of our eye test for the licence. According to its Facebook page it was open from 12 – 14.30, and as we passed it on the way home it would be a quick stop off. Very quick as it turned out, for when we approached it, it was obvious it was closed. Someone needs to update those details then.

We discounted Pasta Maria Teresa in the village as by the time we got there, there would be nothing left, but Stephen said that maybe we could get something from the pasta shop by the road through Rapagnano. Well no, because that was shut too, and from the paper up at the windows may have been so for some time. Our final hope was Gabriella at Conad, where we bought the last lasagne she had (bianco – meat and white sauce with cheese), a few tomatoes and some ricotta. For a last ditch option, it turned out exceedingly satisfying. The lasagne was exquisite, while Stephen chopped up the tomatoes to mix with what was left of Mr C’s lettuce that Mrs C sent the other day, and which went very nicely with the ricotta.

(It’s now safe to read on.)

To finish where we started, more or less, with my eyes, today, as the nice lady at the oculista reminded us, was the start of the pre-op medication. Two drops of Iodim at 8 am, followed by two of Yellox at 9 am, then the same again twelve hours later (more or less, if you allow for forgetting till after Bridgerton) and the countdown has started. Let’s hope nothing happens to cause the mission to be aborted.