All change?

Saturday was Ferragosto - the big summer bank holiday here in Italy, where everyone closes up shop and takes off to the beach or into the mountains, or just enjoys a day of spending time with their family. Indeed, for many people and businesses, Ferragosto is more than just the single day holiday and it's very common for people to close up shop for 2-3 weeks or even the whole of August (if you want something fixing/need anything from the builders' merchant/require some form of service during August... it's often a case of having to wait until September). If this weekend's weather is typical of August (which indeed it seems to be), we decided that "Ferroluglio" might be a better bet! It almost seems as if the moment the calender clicked over into August, the weather became unsettled, and the storms began - we haven't suffered too badly so far (unlike just down the road in Florence where they had an almighty storm a couple of weeks ago that brought down trees, flooded river banks, etc.), and we're not complaining: after more than 8 weeks of scorching sunshine and temperatures in the high 30s (as mentioned yesterday, the hottest July in 150 years), a bit of fresher air and some rain to replenish the water tables comes as a welcome change - but for Italian families heading to the beach for their Ferragosto celebrations, we couldn't help but think, as the heavens opened, that they would have had better weather for it last month!

Since the supermarket shopping had already been done (and neither of the supermarkets would be open on the bank holiday), we had the luxury of a Saturday without the food-shopping chore. We decided to try our luck with getting a coffee somewhere in town, hoping that we might find an establishment open that would serve us coffee on Ferragosto. As we headed along the road into Pescia, enormous splats of rain started falling slowly on the windscreen. We turned into the square to find the majority of shops and cafés closed, but the ever reliable Bar Pulter was open for business. Just as we were parking up, there was a flash, the most almighty crash of thunder, and the slow, heavy splats of rain turned instantly into a deluge. We made a dash for it along the pavement, running between the shelter of shops' awnings until we reached Bar Pulter and ducked inside, only to find it heaving - the people who just minutes previously had been happily enjoying their drinks and cakes at the outside tables had all made a mad dash for cover and sought refuge inside, meaning that we were hard pushed to find a free table. Thankfully we found one, right at the back of the room, and sat down to enjoy our cappucinos while listening through the open window to the rain pelting down outside and the thunder crashing around.

One coffee later, the rain and thunder were still going strong, so we decided a second round was in order. By the time we'd supped our second cappuccinos of the day, the thunder seemed to have rumbled into the distance and the rain had eased off, so we paid up and headed back to the car.

Next, we drove out to Montecatini. We were hoping to find Decathlon and the pet shop open - but we have been caught out by this complex of shops before. It gives all the impression of being the sort of out-of-town shopping complex that you would expect to be open 7 days a week and even on bank holidays (at least you would in the UK). Here, however, things are a bit more random - which is not without its charm, but it still manages to confound us. The indoor complex of shops, which includes cafés, several clothing chains, a Euronix, and the large "iperCoop" hypermarket, only opens on two out of the four Sundays in the month (we've never managed to remember which ones), whereas the large superstores that are situated next to the indoor shopping complex: Obi, the shoe shop (Scarpe & Scarpe - literally shoes & shoes) and Decathlon, ARE usually open on Sundays - as is the pet shop. Today, however, we found the entire complex was a ghost town with the one exception of Obi. We felt sorry for the staff in Obi - while everyone else gets their Ferragosto holiday off to head for the beach, they have to slog through a day's work as usual. We decided not to stop at Obi (for a change), and instead took a scenic route home, driving through the centre of the tiny towns of Ponte Buggianese and Chiesina Uzzanese.

By the time we got home it was sunny and warm and you wouldn't even guess that it had rained, so we ate lunch on the patio and pondered what to do with the rest of the day.

In the end, with Stuart's day at Donatella's still fresh in our minds, we decided we ought to pay some attention to our own wood pile so, after having changed into work clothes we headed to the wood cutting area with chainsaw and splitting axe.

First things first, Stuart gave me a lesson in how to use a chainsaw - having felt inspired by Donatella getting to grips with using one this week, I decided it was time to have a go myself (if allowed). I watched carefully while Stuart explained the safety features and showed me the recommended technique, before somewhat trepidatiously taking the saw and having a go. I cut up one small piece of tree trunk before handing the fearsome weapon back to the responsible adult - I deemed that it would be both safer for the two of us and more efficient if Stuart did the chain sawing.

So, while Stuart chopped up logs with the chainsaw, I wielded the splitting axe. This was only the second time I'd attempted splitting wood. My first attempt, last winter, had mixed success, with maybe a 55% hit (and split) rate - but I was keen to give it another go and see if, with practice, I could improve my work rate. I was thrilled to find that on this occasion I seemed to find my rhythm straight away, and I happily worked my way through the pile of logs Stuart was producing with something more like a 95% hit (and split) rate. I loved it, it was such a satisfying task and I was delighted that I had seemed to master the technique. Splitting wood looks like hard work, and clearly the repeated lifting of the heavy axe above your head does require some effort, but actually the hardest part I found was the constant bending down to pick up each new piece of wood to position it on the chopping block - which soon had my back complaining. If someone could invent a piece of kit that did the positioning of the logs on the chopping block, now that would be something worth investing in!

We worked away at the wood pile for a couple of hours, and Stuart even turned his attention briefly to the wood chipper he'd borrowed from Donatella to try feeding the noisy machine a piece of acacia branch. Just like the old food mincer I used to watch my Mum feed leftover pieces of meat into when I was little, this (somewhat larger and noisier) machine gobbled up the acacia branch that was fed into it and spat out a bucketful of wood chips at the other end! By the time we called time on our short afternoon of work, we had made a good dent in the pile of uncut wood and increased our pile of chopped wood by the same amount. We estimate that we now have approximately enough chopped wood to see us through half the winter... So there's plenty more work to be done (not least of which will be working out how/where to store more!).

We ended the day with a glass of delicious Prosecco courtesy of Donatella's Dad. We sat on the patio in what must have been the coolest temperature we have experienced in the last couple of months - so much so that I felt the need to put one of Stuart's t-shirts on over the top of my own vest top (not quite cardigan weather, but I certainly felt the need of something).

Overnight we were treated to another storm. Memories of last July & August came back to me as I lay trying to shield my eyes and cover my ears in an attempt to block out the sound-and-light show enough to be able to get back to sleep. Of course, the problem is that there is no comfortable makeshift way to cover your eyes and ears, so either you cover them with arms/hands/pillows/duvet but are too hot/uncomfortable to sleep, or you don't cover them and are too disturbed to sleep! We have no curtains (or shutters) in our bedroom and while we've grown used to (and fond of) waking up with the sunlight in the morning, with dual aspect windows, there's no escaping the brilliant flashes that light up the room in a storm, even with your eyes closed. Add to that the crashes of thunder echoing around the valley and the pelting of rain on the skylight outside the bedroom door and you have a recipe for a disturbed night's sleep!

When we got up on Sunday morning, the weather looked undecided. The forecast seemed fairly certain that we would see rain today, but there was nothing falling and in the end we decided to take our chances with the walk we had planned to do with Reggie: the walk from Pescia to Collodi. We decided to brave it without waterproofs and headed into Pescia in the car. We found the side street from which the walk (the Via della Fiaba, or road of the fairy tale - presumably because of Collodi's association with Pinocchio) began and set off. The route was very well defined - much of it was an ancient cobbled path - with clear signage all along the route: they never miss an opportunity to stick a (frankly disturbing) Pinocchio motif on anything associated with Collodi!

An abandoned olive grove.

His nose is HOW long? Disturbing.

A field full of olive trees and.. palm trees. Of course.

It was a very enjoyable 50-minute walk to Collodi, with some interesting new scenery to look at along the way, including an abandoned olive grove, what looked like an abandoned nursery complete with irrigation systems, and a field full of olive trees and palm trees. Our last set of apartment guests, Rob and Cora, had told us that, at the end of this very footpath, they has been surprised to find an ostrich. We were perplexed, but they seemed to be good, honest folk so we somewhat disbelievingly took their word for it - and lo and behold, just as we emerged from the end of the path next to Collodi cemetery, we heard a rustling in the bushes and blow me down if there wasn't a 6ft ostrich staring right at us! It turns out that ostriches don't like Reggies, and Reggies don't much like ostriches - the bird quickly rustled back into hiding in the bushes, while Reggie frantically sniffed around trying to work out what on earth he'd just seen. There was also a field of Shetland ponies and donkeys, and an enclosure containing little goats - Collodi, it seems, really is full of the unexpected!

Yes, there really IS an ostrich in Collodi.

We decided against taking Reggie into the centre of the touristy little town and instead re-traced our steps back to Pescia, the return leg taking only about 40 minutes to complete. At the end of our 1.5 hour walk, we were all grateful to get back to the car and head home for some lunch - despite the gloomy forecast, we hadn't felt a spot of rain and skies looked promising for the afternoon ahead.

After lunch on the patio, we decided that an afternoon on the terraces was in order - the acacias on the upper terraces really have taken hold and we decided today was the day to tackle them. Stuart therefore headed up with pruning saw and secateurs while I fired up the hedge cutters. After a little over an hour at it, we both headed back to the house to down a gallon (or so it felt) of water. It was tempting to call it a day there and then, but instead we re-grouped and headed back outside. This time, Stuart took the chain saw to cut out some of the acacia stumps from the upper terraces (in the hopes that this will help prevent some of the re-growth), while I went to do a quick once-over of the goose enclosure (which, now it is sadly standing empty, has started to look rather overgrown) and then headed back up to the top terraces to attack more acacia trees. It really was quite a soul destroying afternoon, realising just how quickly the acacia has taken hold and how unrecognisable the upper terraces have become - some of which we only revealed for the first time in March this year!

Come 6pm we decided to call it a day, shower, change and get ourselves ready - we were heading down to Pietrabuona for a night out with the Phillipses at the Communist Festa - you may recall that we did the same last year, when we had one of the best nights out we could remember.

We decided to walk down to the festa which, like the cinghiale festival we went to a few weeks ago, was being held at the now defunct (apart from for these occasions) circolo (club) in Pietrabuona - next to the spot where our communal bins are located. The walk turned into something of a hobble down the road for me as my back started to realise just what I'd spent all afternoon doing, but we arrived more or less on time, to find Chris and Sue already waiting at the door.

We wasted no time and went straight in and straight to order our food at the little wooden booth. Having been to several festas, we are now no longer phased by what, last year, seemed like a bizarre food ordering process: we gave our orders to the lady sitting in a little wooden hut at the entrance, who entered the details into a laptop, we paid, and in return were given an A4 print-out showing the items we'd ordered.We then went and found a space on one of the enormous long communal tables in the main dining area, where a server (on this occasion the servers were all youngsters - including Henry and Erik) took our pieces of paper, to return shortly afterwards with the food we had ordered.

Alongside our basket of bread (complete with hammer and sickle motif), we had crostini, penne with ragu, sausages (me) and a delicious pork steak (Stuart), along with beans, chips (I can't even remember the last time I had chips) and a plate of fresh tomatoes. After that, Henry came to take our dessert orders, and on his recommendation I had a chocolate and nut cake while Stuart had what was described as a marmalade roll! Of course we washed it all down with plenty of wine and had a lovely evening chatting about life, the universe and everything. It wasn't quite the raucous affair that last year's festa experience was for us (probably a good thing, given that it was a 'school' night!) - partly because there was no Irish band to dance to (this year Chris and Sue specifically chose the only night of the week-long festa on which there were no speeches scheduled, but it seemed there was no other form of entertainment in its place either - unless you count a few teenagers playing music off a laptop in the corner), and partly because it was so blimmin cold! Yes, it really has started to feel as if summer is drawing to a close and even with a cardigan on (all night), the chill of the evening air seeped through and we all felt cold - even Chris was forced to go and get a sweater to put on partway through the evening.

When Chris and Sue dropped us back at home a little after midnight, it was a welcome relief to walk into the warm house, and we even decided not to turn the fan on in the bedroom - for the first time in many, many weeks. We are still expecting daytime temperatures in the high 20s for at least the next 10 days, with a few rain showers and thunderstorms mixed in here and there, but we are definitely feeling a change in the weather.

Today we have Sheila (Stuart's Mum), Kerys and Ben (Stuart's kids) arriving for a two-week stay, so it will be a day of preparations for their visit followed by a trip to the airport in the evening to collect them. It's been a year since we saw Kerys and Ben, so we're really looking forward to seeing them!

Officially the hottest July in 150 years!

So it seems we have another record to add to our list since arriving here: along with having experienced the wettest July last year and the worst storm in living memory this March, we have now learned from a reliable source that this July was the hottest in 150 years! From memory, the daytime temperatures throughout the whole of July were in the high 30s (C) and the night-time temperatures were in the mid 20s. We know all too well that it's been hot, and the fan in our bedroom has had its work cut out - but we've survived. The hardest part has been trying to get work done outside, although we've had to adjust there too, meaning shorter work days most of the time (for me at least - Helen's days in the office seem to just keep getting longer with the annual VB conference coming up next month).

This will offer no comfort to my wife, who I know is feeling sunlight deprived, but indoors really is the best place to be when it's so damned hot, and so I started the week by blowing the dust from my PC and switching it on so that I could turn my hand back to a little PowerPoint work for Helen's conference.

And so Monday and Tuesday slipped by rather uneventfully, the two of us working side by side towards a common goal (I guess you could say we've been doing that since we got here) in the relative "cool" of the office - although an extra two bodies (not only mine, but Reggie is much more inclined to snoozing in the office if we're both in there) added a degree or two of warmth to the room.

We finally had a reply from our geometra on Tuesday afternoon with some feedback from the architects' inspection here last Wednesday. It seems we can breathe a sigh of relief regarding our worries over the fence, as this was deemed necessary to stop Reggie escaping and dismembering the locals - a huge relief, although until we get the signed letter we won't count our chickens.

Talking of chickens, Andrea reported that the architects had 'noticed' the former goose house (minus walls) and the old shed (minus roof), telling us 'nothing escapes these people'! We're not sure what that really means, but taking both down fully wouldn't be too much more of a job now, so if they really feel they need to punish the foreigners then we'll take these on the chin (although not without some resentment).

As for the solar panels, it seems that the architect from Florence doesn't want us to put them on the roof of the house, but instead to put them on the roof of the new shed, which will be behind the house. We have mixed feelings about this news: on the plus side, by not putting the panels on the roof of the house we will save a huge amount in installation costs (putting them on the roof involves having to have a special 'lifeline' fitted, the skylight at the top of our stairs enlarged and replaced, and the tiling partly removed in order to have the panels inset into the roof rather than on top of it), and maintenance will be a piece of cake, but the downside is that the amount of sunlight they will get on the (east-facing) shed roof behind the house will be dramatically reduced compared to having them west facing on the roof of the house. We did ask Andrea whether we could simply put the panels on the terrace behind the house, where we would even orientate them to be south-facing for maximum exposure to the sun - but he replied saying that is 'not possible'... The upshot of this is that we're now digging around on the internet and posting in some forums for advice on exactly how much sunlight is required and what our options could be - but whatever the advice, it seems that the man from Florence is against us having the panels on the roof of the house, so we're heading down this route. We may invest in a small outside wood-fired boiler alongside the new water tank to cover any period where the sun doesn't quite cut it - but watch this space, this is a plan that's likely to change the more we look into it!

So, all in all, we felt it was fairly good news, and it will be great to finally get this bunch of projects underway this autumn - all of which will make big improvements for us: the blocking up of the old doorway in the living room will keep out cold drafts and help keep the heat in this winter (at the moment it seems a strange concept to want to keep heat in!); the construction of the new wood shed will give Helen her office back and even give us the opportunity to turn it into a snug little living room, meaning we can finish the conversion of the main room into a proper dining room/kitchen; the pergola will give us some much needed shade next summer (the garden umbrella really hasn't cut it this year and we've needed to eat indoors at lunch time due to it being too hot!); and the polytunnel should enable us to get our veg growing off to a flying start next year - so bring on the rubber stamp from Mr Florence!

Wednesday saw a return to outdoor work for me, although as I write I can't recall a single thing I did other than filling the car with fuel. I guess it can't have been anything significant (or so my wife tells me!).

However, I still have the aches to remind me of what I did on Thursday! I went up to Donatella's for the day with my chainsaw and splitting axe to help her make a start on this winter's wood pile. Although summer is still in full swing, autumn will be upon us all too soon and the firewood needs gathering, and soon!

After spending half an hour looking over her two chainsaws, tightening the chains and filling with oil and fuel, we set to work on cutting a pile of oak - the same pile of oak I'd helped make along with Alex and David in March after the viscous storm had smashed through the valley and brought trees crashing down on Donatella and Alex's garden.

Donatella hadn't used the chainsaws before but she soon found her stride and was cutting away happily, as was I, and her Dad did a great job of splitting wood. As soon as Alex's brother, Justin, arrived he got straight to work barrowing the split firewood from where it had been cut down to the wood shed for stacking and storing, and so we all worked, in searing heat, dripping with sweat, until lovely smells of food cooking started wafting from the house. Donatella's mum was busy in the kitchen yet again and it seemed I was going to be one of the beneficiaries once more!

We all collapsed around the patio table to pour gallons of water down us and to hide from the midday heat. It wasn't long before lunch arrived and, yet again, what a lunch!! To start, there was pasta in a sauce made from Donatella's own tomatoes. I couldn't help but have not just seconds but thirds of this, as did Justin next to me - Justin being blissfully unaware of what was to follow, whereas I was just being a pig! Next came out roast pork, roast potatoes, frittata and sliced tomatoes breaded and shallow fried with peeled white sweet grapes (delicious!). The grape and the pork combination worked very much like pork and apple sauce and, yes, I had seconds of that too ...or was it thirds!? Finally, to finish there was a lemon and zucchini cake with apricot jam made by Donatella and a pot of coffee to follow in an effort to stop us all coming to a premature and sleepy end. What an amazing way to spend three hours during the hottest part of the day! You definitely can't tell the Italians how to eat and I was in my element.

We did finally muster up the motivation to get back to work for another hour and a half, by the end of which we'd not only made a satisfying dent in the wood pile but Justin had made an equally satisfying pile of split wood in the shed. There really is something about seeing your heating for the winter grow like this, a satisfaction you don't ever get with a gas-fired boiler!

So a busy day's work, but with plenty more to do, as this only scratched the surface of Donatella's winter wood requirements so we'll be back for another session with David, Sarah and Helen in the not too distant future (I know Helen feels frustrated at being so tied to her desk at the moment that she's not able to join in and help). Hopefully, between us we will be able to help further reduce any anxiety that can build when winter approaches and you don't have a wood pile to match (which reminds me... we need to work on our own wood pile!).

Friday was a slower day. Amongst other things, I fitted brass hooks to all of the new windows in the house as we've noticed that as the winds and storms are starting make an appearance (it is August) the windows have been flailing and banging around.

At lunchtime I headed into Pescia to do the food shopping as Saturday is a bank holiday here and pretty much everything will be shut. I arrived in town to hit the 'sweet spot': 1pm. This is by far the best time to do a supermarket shop here as the vast majority of Italians are doing what I did yesterday at this time - filling their faces! Both supermarkets were blissfully empty and I was in and out of both and heading home within an hour, even having had a brief chat with a couple of young Nigerian immigrants, one of whom has been here for 16 months and still has not been processed (a process that I think is supposed to take three months!) I can't imagine how it must feel to be in limbo like that.

After a little more work we took Reggie for a walk along the river, I think this is his favourite walk in the heat of the summer as he quite likes a splash around in the river Pescia along the way. As he gains confidence (or maybe as the temperature has risen over the months), he seems to be going deeper into the water, this time almost going deep enough to swim - but his little face looked a bit worried at that point and he quickly came running back out.

We got home and welcomed in the weekend with a bottle of wine, and were joined not too long after by our apartment guests, Rob and Cora, who had just returned from a very enjoyable day in Lucca. We sat and chatted for an hour or so, asking about their week, which they seem to have thoroughly enjoyed and they even paid us one of the highest compliments, saying that they don't often return to the same place twice, but they would definitely like to come back again!! Now that's the way to finish off the week!

Tuesday's walk took in the San Lorenzo hotel.

The 'reverse San Lorenzo' walk.

Harvest!

The cats are hot too. Somehow, Florence moved that pile of clothes onto the floor to make herself more comfy!

'Rub my tummy'.

A wedding and a birthday.

It was an amazing few whirlwind days for me in Abingdon last week by the side of my very good friend Dodge for his wedding and marriage to Rowan - a beautiful affair, which saw the ceremony in the converted barn of the newly refurbished Crown and Thistle hotel, followed by a short walk in the sunshine back to the plush green lawn alongside the Thames at the Coseners House. It was a lovely day spent amongst good friends and it was a privilege not only to have been there but to have been best man (despite the dreaded speech which forms part of the job description).

It seemed a mere blink of an eye before I was due to head back to Gatwick and all my grand plans of catching up with other friends fell by the wayside - my plans had clearly been unrealistic, although under different circumstances (and had Helen been with me rather than dog-sitting at home) we would have taken a much longer trip to do just that. So all too early it was time to get the flight home to my lovely and somewhat lonely wife.

The groom being adjusted by the brother.

Groom and groomsmen dressed and ready to go.

The beautiful bride with mum and youngest son Jonah.

The new Mr and Mrs Brown.

A very English affair, a lush lawn by the river.

Post ceremony photos of the groomsmen.

Confetti at the ready!

Why is it called a wedding breakfast?

Post speeches and clearly had a couple of drinks now.

It was lovely to see my wife waiting to greet me in arrivals at Pisa airport as I came through the automatic doors, and after the obligatory hug and kisses that I'd been looking forward to, we headed home with plenty to catch up on along the way.

By the time we arrived home and I'd introduced myself to our new apartment guests it was about half eight so we sat out on the patio with a bottle of wine for an hour while we continued to fill each other in on our respective happenings over the last few days before retiring indoors for some dinner and a much needed sleep.

Sunday started quite late for us - it was about 9.30am when we woke as we heard Reggie crying from downstairs, clearly having had enough of his crate, so we got up and headed downstairs to let the cats out, followed by Reggie.

As Helen spent a while on her computer I set to work sorting out the satellite dish before we sat down for breakfast.

It was clearly going to be a hot one today, as by the time we'd finished breakfast at 10.30 the sun was already almost unbearably hot, so we coerced Reggie into the car to take him for a much-needed walk along the river in Pescia.

The river was very quiet this morning, and with the exception of a group of cyclists and a couple walking their golden retrievers, we saw no one. This meant that Reggie could really have a good stretch of the legs off lead and plenty of splashing around in the river. He was enjoying the splashing so much at one point he forgot where he was for a second and almost went into a marking roll before suddenly realising he was about to dunk himself and recovered with just one wet shoulder! After our walk we bundled Reggie back into the car to head home.

As I had missed Helen's official birthday on Friday, I had promised we would make Sunday a re-run, so after giving Reggie his lunch and a chew, we left him at home and headed over to Montecarlo for a bit of lunch in the welcome shade of the main street.

It would seem that our favourite pizzeria is now shut for lunch (during August?). Businesses being closed for August is not an uncommon sight around here and a lot of shops (even the local builders merchants) are now closed until the end of the month.

We decided instead to head to La Buca - a small husband-and-wife-run establishment that boasts its own produce in the way of cured meats and cheeses. We've been in here a handful of times previously with various friends to buy some of their delights, I really think some of their meats are the best around so it wasn't much of a compromise.

We took a table in the street and greeted the wife by name as she approached - which made her look like she was playing musical statues and someone had turned the music off, she completely stopped in her stride, mouth open and eyes looking upwards towards the sky, her brain searching for our faces. A split second later she had remembered who we were and asked how things were going while laying our table and handing us menus.

We were soon furnished with a chilled bottle of Vermentino from the local vineyard Buon Amico and a huge platter of meats and cheese accompanied with local acacia honey.

A birthday treat.

Mmmmmmmm... meat!

...and a birthday surprise!

With the 'snack' gone and the wine bottle empty we prepared to leave and I went in to ask for the bill, but Mara had other ideas and told me to sit down as she was bringing us a bottle of Prosecco for Helen's birthday (I'd told her during our chit-chat that we were here for her birthday)!

Shortly after sitting back down Mara arrived with a board of home-made choc-chip cantuccini and a chilled bottle of Prosecco...on the house she said, from La Buca to Helen for her birthday!

Not only that, Mara refused to allow me to leave a single cent as a tip as this would have paid towards their gift to us. I think we've found ourselves another regular haunt!

We drove home to rescue the dog (or our guests, depending on which way you look at it) and settle into the early evening which firstly involved a Skype call from Bristol for Helen to chat with her friend Louise who is coming over to stay with us this Autumn. While Helen was chatting at her computer, Chris arrived with young Erik, calling in on their way back down from Sorana.

Once Helen had finished we all had a drink on the patio and caught up on the latest planning permission  developments before Chris and Erik headed home, leaving us to out dinner. We wanted a light dinner after our protein-heavy lunch and opted in the end for tomato bruschette (using more of the tomatoes given to us by Donatella) with tuna and 'poor man's capers' (pickled nasturtium pods) given to us by David and Sarah (and delicious they were too, we shall be asking for the recipe and making our own next year). With dinner despatched, we watched a single episode of Scrubs, of course in the usual fashion: in Italian language with English subtitles, before retiring to bed to read for half an hour before lights out ready for the week ahead.

Home Alone 2...

...Anything Macaulay Culkin can do, I can do too - although I hasten to add that the similarities begin and end with the title of this post.

Yes, this week I have been left to take care of things at the homestead (and more to the point the menagerie) once again while Stuart has been back to the UK for his friend Dodge's wedding. I was very sad not to have been able to go to the wedding - Dodge and Rowan are a fantastic couple and over the six or so years that he has known him, Dodge has been Stuart's workmate, fellow politics ranter, eco-warrier and old skool rave tunes singer, his best beer-drinking buddy, and his closest friend. Indeed, way back when we said our fond farewells to Abingdon last year, it was only when Dodge started getting choked up saying goodbye to Stuart that it all finally hit home - we were really leaving, and we were really, really going to miss our wonderful friends and family.

But never mind that, the other reason I was sad to miss the wedding was that, as Best Man, Stuart was required to don a three-piece suit and tie for the occasion. I'm not sure either of us can remember the last time he wore a tie, let alone a jacket, and as for the last time he wore a waistcoat? Well, that would have been at our wedding, three years ago (and even that was without a jacket!). This suit-wearing business is all hearsay, of course, I haven't actually seen any evidence of him wearing said suit (yet). I'm hoping that some photographs will turn up soon - though I'm not sure I will recognise him out of "farming" gear!!

Of course, the being-home-alone thing meant that I had to go through the trauma of the airport run once again. Thankfully, the driving was fine and incident-free once again - so maybe I can manage this whole driving on the "wrong" side of the road/car thing after all?! By the time I got home from the airport, though, there was less than an hour until the dreaded inspection of our property by the architect from Florence (in relation to our planning permissions) - so despite having got the driving out of the way, my stomach remained firmly knotted.

Not long after I'd got back, Sue arrived and helped me to manoeuvre the car into a spot at the end of the driveway. With Sue and Donatella coming to lend moral (and practical) support, as well as the three people visiting (Andrea, an architect from Pescia and an architect from Florence), I wasn't sure there would be enough parking space at the house for everyone, so moved our car to the end of the driveway. It seems I may have mastered motorway driving, but as for manoeuvring our car neatly out of the way - not so much! Sue kindly directed me until we were both happy that the car was sufficiently well tucked away so as not to obstruct the entrance to the drive, then we returned to the house. Donatella arrived not long afterwards, and the three of us sipped chilled water (at the risk of sounding like a broken record, it was HOT) and discussed what might or might not happen - our main concerns were issues being raised about the fencing and about the old shed, as well as questions being asked about the now wall-less former goose house (soon to be chicken house).

About 10 minutes before the inspectors were due to arrive, I harnessed Reggie up and handed his lead to Sue. Donatella and I held our breaths waiting to see if he would go off with Sue, but we needn't have worried and off he trotted very happily indeed!

Donatella and I chatted a bit more, until we thought we heard something outside - on stepping outside the front door we were met by Andrea with a man and a woman walking around the side of the house with plans in hands. They had clearly already started the inspection and were not the least bit interested in talking to me! They continued to walk around the house and garden, not involving me at all. Handily, Donatella was able to eavesdrop on their conversation and relay some of it back to me. Before we knew it, Andrea was telling me "tutt'a posto" (everything's ok), saying "ciao" and miming sending an email. Donatella asked if they had any questions that she could help translate, but the three were adamant that they had seen enough and had no questions, and off they went! It was all a bit of an anticlimax in the end (although far rather that than the other way around).

Donatella said that as soon as they saw it, the architects had queried the old shed at the edge of the lawn. Andrea had told them that it was in the process of being demolished, to be replaced by the new wood shed (that we are seeking permission to build on the side of the house). I guess geometras must get used to bending the truth from time to time, and I guess the architects' query justifies the work David and Stuart put into emptying the shed and Chris and Stuart put into taking its roof off. Other than one of the architects remarking that the fence must be to keep the dog restrained, there didn't seem to be any other mention of the fence, which was a huge relief. So to all intents and purposes, it seemed to be a very straightforward visit with no problems having been raised and no curve balls having been thrown. We will wait for official confirmation before we count our chickens though!

After the visitors had departed, and Donatella and I had retreated into the relative cool of the house, it wasn't long before a familiar little face was poking his wet nose through the door, followed quickly by Sue - I think poor Sue had been dragged all the way back down the drive by Reggie, who does have a tendency to switch gears on his way home! Sue told us that Reggie had refused to venture any further than the gates - but that she and he had waited there patiently. They had seen the architects arriving and Reggie had given them a good bark and made himself look scary. Good boy!

We all praised Reggie, who by now must have been thoroughly confused - his "Dad" was missing, but two of his most favourite friends were here, one of whom had just taken him to the end of the drive and sat down there with him for 15 minutes - he must have been wondering what on earth was going on! Still, he stood on Sue's foot and chewed Donatella's hand, which I took as being a good sign, even if they'd rather he didn't.

With the day's dramas out of the way, my long afternoon's slog at the computer felt positively relaxing in comparison. I worked until early evening before doing the rounds with the hose to water all of our parched plants, feeding the animals and sitting down to a meal of leftovers from yesterday's dinner.

I got up early on Thursday morning and headed straight out with Reggie - we were on the road by 6.40am, but we only made it as far as the wood yard just up the road from us, at which point he made it very clear that he wasn't interested in traipsing up the road and would rather go back home, thank you very much. Well, I tried! Disappointed not to have had a walk myself, let alone one for Reggie, I got my exercise gear out and half-heartedly flung some kettlebells around before heading indoors to start my long day's work.

Thursday was indeed a long hard slog at my computer, clocking up almost 9 hours at my desk, while stopping every now and then to think about how Stuart's day was going and how Dodge and Ro were getting on and how they must be feeling as the hour of their nuptials approached. I did miss being there, but I am assured it was a wonderful day and I am certain that Stuart would have done an excellent job of his best man's speech despite his nerves!

And Friday? Well, Friday was my birthday. Yes, home alone on my birthday! Determined not to slip into the usual weekday routine, I pottered around in the morning, going down to the veg beds and finding our first five ripe tomatoes (at least the first ones we'd intentionally planted rather than ones that have grown of their own accord from the compost heap), as well as yet more cucumbers.

Birthday tomatoes.

I must admit to having shed a few tears when opening cards and presents from my family and Stuart - there really is nothing like a birthday to make you miss people, especially one when you're on your own - but Reggie was on hand to give me one of his best ever hugs (he must have been practising!), and after that I got on with my day.

At around 11.30am, David arrived, having offered to help put the satellite dish back up (after it having been taken down prior to the architects' inspection). To all intents and purposes this seemed like a straightforward task. Stuart had managed it back in December (the last time the dish had had to come down for an inspection) with seemingly little trouble, so foolishly I was expecting it to be a relatively straightforward task. Ha! Two hours later, both David and I were drenched in sweat and frustration, after having spent most of those two hours up a ladder in full 38C heat fiddling with bolts, trying to adjust the position of the alarmingly heavy satellite dish and receiver. We eventually conceded defeat and decided it would be best left to someone who knows what he's doing... That will be a job for Stuart then!

After David left, I had a bite to eat for lunch before settling down to my computer. As part of the package Mum and Dad had sent me for my birthday was a CD containing a mammoth (83-page) document about my grandfather's wartime activity - a large part of which was in Italy. Mum has been trying to get to the bottom of her Dad's wartime service for a long time now, and finally had a breakthrough a couple of months ago. After much hard work and detailed research, she has produced the most wonderful and beautifully written document describing Grandpa's duties and movements. It seems I am not the first in our family to have known Tuscany, and who could have guessed that 67 years prior to Stuart and me marrying in Siena, my grandfather was posted in that very city! It's absolutely fascinating reading, and I spent much of my afternoon trying to take it all in (I'm on page 50 so far!).

What does every birthday need? Cake. Or even cakes. As luck would have it (perhaps the universe was trying to make up for me having to spend my birthday home alone), my birthday fell on the exact same day as Vellano's annual Festa dei Dolci (festival of cakes/sweets) and I was invited to go along with Donatella, David and Sarah.

Since the festival wasn't due to kick off until 9pm (which, to us Brits, seemed a little late in the day for cake), we convened at David and Sarah's house for a drink and some nibbles beforehand. Fellow ex-pats Jim and Judy also joined us, and we enjoyed a drink and a chat in a gentle breeze on David & Sarah's pint-sized patio until it was time to head towards the action.

The action all took place in Vellano's main square, which is right at the top of the village, so we climbed our way up to the square, made a small donation each in return for a plastic bag containing a paper plate, plastic cutlery and napkin. We then found our way to some seats and sat down to wait.

From what I can gather, the festival is rather like a friendly WI cake baking contest, with all entries being judged, a winner (or winners?) being decided, whereafter the cakes are fed to the hungry mob. After what felt like an age, it was finally time to introduce the cakes. One by one, each cake was announced before being brought out, paraded in front of the crowd, and finally set down on an enormous table at the front. There were polite rounds of applause from the audience (a.k.a. hungry mob) for each entry, with some of the more notable ones (e.g. the larger ones, the ones with glossy toppings, the ones coated in Smarties...) getting 'ooohs' as the members of the crowd made a mental note of which cakes looked the tastiest. It seemed like the cakes would never stop coming, but cake no. 39 was indeed the last in line.

Let the cake parade begin!

39 cakes...

In amongst all of the chatting, crowd noise and the general language confusion, we completely missed who/which cake had actually won any prizes, but to be honest that wasn't really why we were there, and before we knew it, the cakes were being sliced up by a handful of Nonnas behind the tables and - whoosh - it was suddenly a free-for-all and we could no longer even see the cake table beyond the hungry mob.

Donatella laughed at Sarah and me, who in our reserved British way were standing at the back of the queue and repeatedly letting other people barge in in front of us - who were getting all the best cake! With cake at stake, we soon realised that a more forceful approach was required and at the next opportunity thrust our plates in front of one of the cake-serving Nonnas. It seemed de rigueur to ask for three cakes at a time, no questions asked. Some people even went up for a second plate load (much respect to David!), while for the rest of us it was a struggle to finish the first plateful of sugary goodness.

Actually there are four slices of cake there. No wonder I felt a bit sick!

With the entire piazza buzzing on a sugar high, there then followed loud Italian music and the equally deafening drawing of raffle prizes before finally, with sugar levels starting to crash again, we decided it was time to call it a night as far as cakes were concerned. While the others were heading to the Bistrot for a night cap, I decided it was time for me to head home, so after saying goodnight, I wended my way back down the hill. This was the first time I'd come home after dark while home alone, and I was surprised (at least, the me of a few weeks ago would have been surprised) to find I wasn't really the least bit worried. There were no bogeymen waiting for me, no scary beasts blocking the drive, and I could hear Reggie's reassuring bark as I walked up to the house. The scariest thing about getting home close to midnight was that I seemed to have interrupted a moth party on our front wall - it was covered in moths of all different shapes and sizes, clearly attracted to the outside light that I'd left on. The front door was similarly adorned, and I had to battle my way in, batting them away from my face and shutting the door behind me as quickly as possible. Of course, that's easier said than done when there's an excited dog on the other side of the door, eager to come out and give me his customary greeting!

After chasing a few moths around the living room, I stayed up for a while with Reggie before finally turning in for the night.

Is it possible to have a cake hangover? I felt a bit rough when I first woke up this morning, but maybe it was just because I'd had a busy few days and some late nights. Lucca and Florence weren't interested in my excuses though, and demanded their breakfast in the noisiest way they could, so I dragged myself out of bed, fed them, then made another futile attempt at taking Reggie for a walk along the road. These days something seems to spook him - there have been some new dog noises (barking from a direction in which we've not heard it before) which sound as if they are coming from the house above us, and to all intents and purposes it seems as if it is these that stop Reggie in his tracks and make him decide he'd rather stay at home. So, having made it out of the drive and onto the road, we turned straight around and went back to the house again. Thankfully, once Stuart is back it will be easier to take Reggie to places we know he likes to walk, such as the cava and the river, and he will at last get a proper run-around!

Since my walk plan had once again been scuppered, I decided to make a start in the apartment - we have guests arriving this afternoon, and while Stuart had done most of the cleaning before he left, I needed to finish things off down there. I therefore spent the next hour or so cleaning the bathroom, vacuuming and changing sheets before turning my attention to the outside. Since it has been so very, very hot and dry for weeks and weeks, the grass has turned brown and crispy and certainly didn't need mowing, but the odd weed or two was poking up, and the driveway was starting to look a little unkempt again. I therefore changed, got the strimmer out, headed down to the apartment patio, started up the strimmer... and within 2 minutes the cord had broken. I'm ashamed to admit that, while I am happy wielding the strimmer, the slightly complicated tasks of changing the cord (as well as getting the correct fuel mix) elude me, so I stomped back to the house, feeling hot and frustrated. Thankfully things really don't look too bad out there, but it would have been nice to have felt I had done everything possible. As Stuart said, hopefully our guests will be too busy admiring our lovely view to notice whether the grass on the drive is getting a bit long.

After an early lunch, I decided to brave Esselunga - I say 'brave' it, but I craftily timed my visit to coincide with lunchtime, which meant that when I arrived at 1.15pm, the aisles were blissfully quiet and I sailed through the checkouts without even having to queue.

After unpacking the shopping, I spent the afternoon having a go at a cucumber soup recipe. I've been meaning to do it for a while, but soup hasn't seemed like the most appealing thing either to cook or eat of late (I am hoping I can convince Stuart to try this one served chilled - we'll see!). Our mountain of cucumbers shows no sign of being depleted (and indeed continues to grow) and I was disappointed to find that the recipe (courtesy of Delia) only called for 2 cucumbers! Hey ho.

So, with our guests' arrival imminent, I just have the meet and greet followed by the hurdle of the drive to the airport to contend with before I will, I hope, be able to relax and enjoy the rest of the weekend with Stuart at my side and a glass of wine in my hand.

Never been so sociable!

Not that we consider ourselves unsociable of course, but this weekend was a busy one - busier socially than any we've had since arriving. Being so time-poor in England, we would never have arranged such a busy social weekend in our old lives, but we really enjoy the relaxed social element of life in the mountains.

Our weekend started on Friday night with a sagra  del cinghiale - wild boar festival - in our local village. Last year we had seen posters for the same event, but having only been here for a couple of months at that point we didn't get anywhere near to making it to the festival. This year, we were determined to go, and when we mentioned it to our apartment guests Charlie and Becky, they seemed really keen both to try some wild boar and to experience some real Italian culture. So at 8pm the four of us headed down to the Circolo (social club) in the village and joined the queue to order our food.

From our limited experience, food festivals like this (this was our third) all seem to operate the same way: you queue at a kiosk where you order your food, pay and take your order slip away with you, then find a table and wait for a waiter or waitress to collect it from you before laying up your table to eat.

With food and wine ordered, we sat ourselves down at one of the very long communal benches and soaked up the atmosphere while our place mats, cutlery and glasses were delivered, shortly followed by water and wine.

It wasn't long before our meat crostini arrived - they were rapidly despatched and enjoyed, after which everyone else sat and watched me eat penne pasta with a wild boar ragu. What can I say, I'd spent 4 hours that morning strimming in the sunshine, I had an APPETITE!

Next followed wild boar stew and roasted wild boar loin which was delicious - the best we've eaten since being here. With the savoury food done with, we headed over to a table at which a Nonna was selling slices of home-made cake, so we took back slices of a chocolate and rice torte and an almond based sponge cake.

It was only after we'd eaten the pudding that I noticed an old chap in the corner offering Pecorino cheese and Proscuitto - well, it would be rude not to try some, so of course we ended up with a plate of this to share between the four of us before finally heading into the dancing area where there was a great display of cheesy cabaret complete with Nonnas (and some Nonnos) all dancing ballroom-style and in sync to various songs. We watched both amused and amazed for an hour or more before finally calling it a night just before midnight - a thoroughly good night was had by all, and for our guests it was the sort of evening that would rarely, if ever, pop up on the tourist radar so Charlie and Becky left feeling like they'd seen a bit of 'real' Tuscany.

Saturday commenced with the usual supermarket trip, after which we came home and made lunch for six as we had the Phillips family due for lunch in exchange for a few hours' work tackling the old shed roof, dismantling the goose house and the removing a pile of rubbish, all in preparation for the visit from the architects and geometra on Wednesday.

We sat out on the patio for lunch - which has actually become something of a rarity over the last five or six weeks, as it's simply been too hot to eat outside, even under the shade of the umbrella.

After a substantial lunch of (tomato bruschette, a tuna, egg and rice salad, and bean dip) we all set to work in a slightly cooler than of late, but very humid afternoon.

By 5pm the rubbish had been disposed of, thanks to Helen and Sue piling it all into the car and making a trip to the bins; the goose house had been cleaned out and its parts all labelled ready for re-construction by Henry and Erik; the goose house had also been almost completely dismantled by Helen, Sue and Erik; and the galvanised roof had been taken off the old shed thanks to some very sweaty work shared between Chris and me. A very productive (or destructive, depending on how you look at it) afternoon's work. As ever, we were utterly grateful to our amazing friends for pitching in and helping us out of a tight spot.

Health and safety?! Well, he did at least have goggles on...

 

Team Goose House.

Unfortunately we had to cut the get-together short though, and the ever helpful Phillips crew left us just before 6pm so that we could get ourselves ready for a trip up to Lanciole - we had been invited to join the owners of the house that I've working at in Lanciole for a bit of dinner at the Circolo in the village.

Having driven past the Circolo numerous times over the past year, but almost never seen it open, I wasn't sure what to expect - that combined with the fact Helen had never met either Rachael or Steve before, and I had only done so briefly a couple of weeks ago, meant that we were unsure as to what to expect from the evening or how the evening was going to pan out. It turns out that we needn't have worried (or maybe we should, but for different reasons!).

We arrived to find cars strewn all over the place at the sides of the road and lots of people milling around outside the circolo, I'd clearly never driven past this place on a Saturday evening!

The outside entrance of this place give no hint that beyond its doors is a huge room and we were greeted by plenty of lots and lots of communal tables/benches all laid out for dinner, as seems to be the custom. It was already buzzing with people, and were told that they expected around 110 people - it almost appeared on the surface as if we'd been invited to another festival, except it wasn't: we are reliably informed that this is a completely normal Saturday night for this tiny sleepy village! We shared carafes of house wine, the obligatory sharing plates of antipasti, and some fantastic pizza cooked in a wood-fired oven while we all got to know each other properly. Rachael and Steve turned out to be great company and we soon relaxed and had a really fun evening with them, along the way being introduced to many of the friendly locals, one of whom was an old chap who revealed that he had been the Italian boxing champion in 1972 - a lovely, smiley guy who sat with us for some time in between getting up to go and do some of his own ballroom dancing... yes... it was happening here too!!

We eventually retired outside into the cool evening air (there had been rain earlier, which had left the air deliciously fresh-smelling) with some more wine and limoncello and soaked up the lovely warm atmosphere that felt more like a large family gathering - everyone was so friendly, everyone knew everyone else, and we all chatted the night away until around midnight when we said our goodnights and left. Judging by the number of people (of all ages, from young children all the way up to the dancing old folk) still enjoying their evening, we must have been among the first to leave, but we'd had a really fun evening, great company, and promised we'd go back up again soon for another visit.

After two late nights in a row (at least they were late by our standards), we rose later than normal today and didn't rush to get ready for this morning's social event: a brunch up at one of the restaurants (Le Bistrot) in Vellano with David, Sarah and Donatella. We were due up there for 10.45am, so we pottered around - Helen took Reggie for a short walk while I checked my emails and enjoyed a relaxing morning.

It must have been around 10am when Reggie shot outside at the sound of a horn, and started going absolutely nuts! It wasn't long before I realised that the horn must have been on the drive outside, as Reggie showed no sign of letting up his barking.

I went outside to find a red Citroen C3 parked on the drive. Not recognising it, I went further around the front of the house to find Valerio, one of our neighbours wandering around looking for me! He had clearly decided he fancied a nose around the place (I had invited him to pop in sometime when I met him a couple of weeks ago) - he has known our house and land since he was old enough to walk, having been born in the house in which he still lives today, just down the hill from us.

Despite Reggie's incessant barking for the entire 45 minutes he was here, we managed a reasonable conversation with him about various things. Interestingly, one of the first things he said to us - completely unprompted - was that our old shed (the one now standing with no roof) had been there ever since he could remember, so we have confirmed that it is at least 60 years old  (we were too polite to ask him how old he is, but guess he might be around 70) and it certainly looks like it has been there longer than that. Valerio, who seems like a very friendly chap, played around with the generator and other bit of machinery and showed plenty of interest in the irrigation timer we had running before deciding his ears had had enough of Reggie's noise and heading off home in his car, telling us to stop at his house some time - a lovely old man and only too willing to talk to us about the local area.

By the time Valerio left, we were running a little late so we hopped straight into the car and headed up to Vellano. Vellano was also hosting a street market today, a new event for the village, so the main street was busy with stalls, people and cars.

We soon spotted Donatella, David and Sarah waiting for us, so we headed straight to the Bistrot and sat down to an epic brunch: mineral water, coffees, fruit juice, plates of meats and cheeses, bread, croissants, French toast with jam, scrambled eggs with crispy bacon and fresh tomatoes, penne pasta with fresh pesto and sweet pasties to finish. We were amazed to find out when we finally got up to pay the bill four hours later, that all of that cost just 10 euros per head!!

We had a lovely time catching up with David, Sarah and Donatella, talking to various other folk as they made their way in and out of the restaurant, and stuffing ourselves silly. What a perfect way to spend a lazy Sunday morning - I could easily see this becoming a weekly ritual (although our waistlines might not thank us for it)!

So as the weekend draws to a close, we couldn't have had a more fun-filled and sociable couple of days. It might take us a couple of days to catch up on our sleep and recover, but it will have been worth it!