Christmas Special: pain, plumbers, parties, plane delays, pricey luggage, pining for pines, poorly kitten, peturbation, panettone and prosecco

Juliet writes:

BUON NATALE TUTTI! At this festive time of year, we are missing you all very much.

I am writing this in the glorious sunshine on the day of Christmas Eve. Presents are wrapped, wreath made, olive oil bottled, cats asleep, husband in good health and all is well… for now!

However, it’s been a bumpy ride to get to this semblance of normality and peace.

A few days after my last blog entry, P woke me up in the middle of the night in agony. I am not talking about your usual ‘I am a man, my eyelid hurts a bit and thus it is the end of the world’ pain… I am talking about serious howling accompanied by a full repertoire of cursing that would give Mary Whitehouse rather a lot to write about. Poor man – I hadn’t seen him that unhappy in 10 years. It was those blasted kidney stones again. Or, more accurately, as we discovered half an hour later at the local Pronto Soccorso (emergency ward), it was the damage done by the kidney stones leaving his system. Ouch. Anyway, after a morphine drip and some gentle sympathy from all around him, I took him home. In fact the damaged tissue healed pretty quickly and he was back to his usual self within a day or so. Although, as my dear husband refuses to follow the doctor’s advice and drink any water, I wouldn’t be surprised if it happened again. Only this time, he will probably have to walk to the hospital as I wont take him at 3am again!

Of course, being the Staveleys, this all took place rather inconveniently during our olive harvest, so I not only had to play nurse but also to spend a day being sole picker: climbing, hacking twigs and scrabbling about in the undergrowth gathering up those precious little black and green gems.

Despite being like an ironing board the next day, it was worth it… we took our two baskets to the local co-operative press and had such a fun 3 hours with mill owner Signor Valentino Rossi (no relation to the motorbike champion), various local farmers and neighbours (see pics). It was very interesting watching the process and asking/learning all about it (well, as much as our Italian would allow) – much more complicated and lengthy than we thought. Although we have only managed to produce a measly 7 litres of oil, it is fully organic, 100% extra-virgin and it tastes delicious. The bottles you get in Sainsburys are generally only about 5-10% extra-virgin, so this is pretty strong stuff by comparison. Anyway, we have managed to bottle a few little samples for our friends and family, so you must let us know (honestly) what you think!

We do at last have a builder (excited whoops of joy and relief!). In fact we have two: Stepan and Ivan – the Ukranian brothers who have lived here for 15 years and come highly recommended. We have seen their completed work on a huge old farmhouse and it’s flawless. Plus, they are quarter of the price of most others and, better still, they work through siestas and at weekends, so are fully optimistic that we will have a habitable house soon. Well as soon as we can actually start the work. More bureaucracy means that their contracts are delayed until we get a plumber. Does anyone, anywhere in the world know a reliable, fast, cheap plumber?! Having waited 2 months to get a quote from the one we wanted, it came in at half our entire house budget so we are back to square one. We have got another 4 names to try for, but as you know it all takes time and nothing gets done over Christmas, so we are forcing ourselves to not worry about it until the new year.

In between, we have had various friends staying – Charlie and Jen (pics of more rude vegetables to the left) and Sammy (non-vegetable-related pics). You were all wonderful in putting up with our tired bickering and letting us run around manically trying to find olive oil bottles and builders. We can’t wait to see you again… if we haven’t put you off forever!

We also squeezed in a visit to Blighty, primarily for dad-in-law’s 92nd birthday. He is still doing amazingly well and we had a full itinerary of visitors, entertainment, fine dining and shopping. This included a lovely birthday tea at Oak House where we met more staff (all wonderful) plus the new ladies on his table, one of whom is 105 years old, going on 20 – a true inspiration! Then we were treated to a fun jazz carol concert during which P and I embarrassed ourselves by dancing and singing (neither of us can do either well). The celebrations were rounded off with a super dinner at a local hostelry with son number 2 James, plus dad’s lovely friends Paul and Carolyn. Much fun and many bottles were had. We did have one heartbeat-skipping moment when we were visiting mum-in-law’s grave and dad took a balletic dive onto P’s foot. Luckily no harm was done, and a whisky and a sponge down aided full recovery. Thanks for a lovely few days Poppa.

Then we shot off to London to see mum in time for my birthday. I felt so utterly pampered as I awoke to a glam haircut/style at home by Toni & Guy hairdresser (Laura, you are fab), followed by a girlie shopping trip and an hour’s blissful massage. So removed from anything in Italy, where I go for months without anything remotely resembling a beauty routine. Then followed a lovely impromptu afternoon tea with Marion, Adam, Sylvia, Maria and little Dominic before I was whisked away for dinner and a trip to the West End (I do miss London and it is a thrill to be back in one of the most beautiful, liveliest capitals in the world). We watched the musical ‘Imagine This’: based on a family in the Polish ghetto in 1942, it is hardly cheery stuff, but I loved every minute of it. I am so sad to learn that it is being pulled early. Try to see it before it goes! To finish off my treats, the next morning mum cooked a super full English breakfast, including the veggie sausages which I have missed so much, and invited friends over. Thank you mums for one of the most memorable birthdays I’ve ever had XXXXX

Then we forced ourselves away and managed to see our Teddington friends (well, the ones who hadn’t come down with flu/lurgy), including some fun hours with Anya and Chris, a gorgeous lunch with Natters, Matt and Caitlin, a quick drink with Rod and Alex (we will get you over here soon to sample our wine!) and the perfect afternoon with the Brosh gang, just relaxing, playing with the girls and eating delicious cake. Heaven!

Our return home was blighted by the fact that (a) we missed our check-in by five minutes due to a 10-mile tailback on the M11 and (b) our excess luggage cost the same as the national debt of Iceland. Thank you RyanAir. We love you so much. But in the great scheme of things, it didn’t matter a jot as we managed to relax and find a nice pub while we waited for the next flight. And back in Toscana we have had lots of distractions to keep us from any self-pity…

Firstly, during a thunderstorm, the beautiful, original 16th century artesian well in our cloisters has been smashed to smithereens. I learnt my first Italian swear words the afternoon I rang Giovanni to let him know. Poor man – it will no doubt be very costly to get archeologists in to restore it in time for the weddings in Spring.

Then, our dear friend Sarah damaged her back on her birthday so we went round to offer emergency massages, sympathy and wine. We had a super impromptu evening catching up with their youngest son, baking potatoes on an open fire and watching the Strictly Come Dancing final… all quite surreal for us as we have had no TV for 8 months.

Next, on consecutive days, our two dear felines got stuck up the same tree. Weed was easy to pick off at a mere 30 feet up, but Tumble decided to out-do her big sister and climb twice as high. Poor Peter had to get the builder’s ladder out to full extension and ascend – slowly and wobbly through all those scratchy pine needles – and spend half an hour persuading her to be prized off her favourite branch. If that wasn’t enough, the next day poor little kitty had an appointment to have her bits snipped. After two days, she is now walking around with slightly less wincing but in need of lots of love. She is still prefers weeing in the bidet rather than outside but I can’t pick her out of it without hurting her so I am just letting it go (or rather, letting her go) and using lots of detergent until her stitches are out. At least she is eating properly again and eyeing up our baubles with a little too much enthusiasm for my liking.

And finally, we had our first Italian earthquake yesterday! Or more precisely, two earthquakes. One at about 4pm, one at 11pm – both mercifully small. So small, in fact, that P didn’t believe me when I squealed with excitement and shouted “Terramota!”. He spent the rest of the time looking at me like I was bonkers until he read the Times Online this morning and hung his head in an apologetic manner.

But now – thankfully – all is quiet and we are thoroughly enjoying the run-up to Christmas. For those who know me well, I usually dread this time of year – stressful, tiring, expensive and, with all that food and my tummy problems, very painful. However, looking at the snow-capped mountains and pine trees in the sunshine and the plethora of stars at night, one can’t help but feel festive. We are off to our friends Simon and Sarah tomorrow for a full British turkey meal and drunken charades. Can’t wait. But the rest of our Natale is very Italian. I have interrupted this blog twice because local friends have come round bearing – what else? – panettone and prosecco of course. They have made us feel so welcome. The shopkeepers have all given us little gifts too – from flowers, plants and calendars, to things we don’t even recognise or know what to do with. The local children have adorned the Christmas tree next to the Medici fountain (sorry, I just love saying that we have our own local Medici fountain, don’t I?!) with letters to Father Christmas. ‘Babba Natale’, as he is known here, has been asked for everything from a large red plastic truck to world peace. The live nativity was wonderful. Carols, a real donkey and a baby Jesus (although the latter had a dummy in his mouth which rather ruined the authenticity). We are even going to our first Catholic midnight mass tonight at our local church – sorry vicar!

It is all much more low-key and traditional here, although, being Italy typically there are a few bazaar things to keep us on our toes. I leave you with the Special Christmas Hamper offer at Conad (the big supermaket in Aulla). For only E10, you too can have a very seasonal:
Two packets of lasagne sheets
One bag of lavazza coffee
One bottle of fizzy pop
One panettone (just in case you don't already have enough)
Some tinned spam (mmmm) and
Not one but two whole packets of frozen peas!

Tempted?

Whatever you are up to, we wish you all a very Happy Christmas and may your 2009 be filled with love, laughter, good health, prosperity, peace and lashings of fine wine.

Lots of love and festive kisses to you all.

Felice nuovo anno e salute!
XXXXX

NB Don’t miss our first 2009 Special Report: Panettone... 1,001 uses, from toilet cleaner to emergency shock absorber

Otto Mese (8 months): Building site, bureaucracy, blisters, baskets, ball games, baritones, burning midnight oil, bizarre house guests, bloody cat...

Juliet writes:

Sono stanco! (I’m knackered)

I am typing this while sitting on newspaper, to protect the chair from the dust that has accumulated on my bottom. We spend each day on our dusty, rubble-filled building site. Officially, however, it isn’t a building site (shhh – don’t tell anyone), because at last we now have all our permissions. This means that, apart from ourselves, no-one is allowed on site that isn’t registered and contracted via the geometra. We were planning on hiding Jim in a cupboard when the authorities come round to check, but we don’t actually have a cupboard. And the implications if we are caught are pretty scary: Fines, imprisonment and worst still, closing down any works on site for an indefinite period. So, we are hanging tight and have asked Jim to take work home with him instead. Poor man – it’s harder than it looks trying to smuggle bits of banister and shutters into a car when no-one’s looking.

Anyway, hopefully this shady activity will only be transient - we are having a second meeting with a promising builder on Wednesday and it’s a toss-up between him (Guiseppe) and a pair of brothers (Stepan and Ivan). We should know for definite by Friday and then we can ask Christian to draw up the contracts and get the health and safety sorted, including the erecting of the obligatory signs and bright orange fencing all around Lecci. I am so excited about the prospect of official rubble and dust. I wonder if one can buy pretty hard hats on Ebay?

Well anyway, it all sounds simple doesn’t it? Just a few more forms, some contracts and at least 1,000 signatures stand between us and the beginnings of our dream home. Have I told you before just how much we love bureaucracy?

As we are relatively guest-free and builder-free now, we have been whiling away the days knocking the poor house apart, continuing to sort out the garden and sourcing baths, wood, marble, stoves, tiles etc for the time when it is civilised enough to fit them.

We now have the dining room flooring design sorted and the marble factory to make it up for us (we are even allowed to watch it being made, within metres of where the marble for Michangelo’s David was hewn)

We are also pretty damn near to getting a plumber. Only 8 months to source one aint bad. We should be getting the final quote this week (allegedly) and they can start at the beginning of next month. We are not sure if we can afford underfloor heating, but we would love this – especially in a country with no carpets – tiles can be pretty chilly at this time of year!

Just as we managed to scrub the grape stains off our hands and clothes (the wine will be ready in about a month – whoopee), we are now covered in blisters, scratches, splinters and twigs from the olive picking. It is a slow job (isn’t everything here?!), as each little extra-virgin olive is so precious, but we have been thoroughly enjoying our very first harvest. We only have 5 really fruitful trees out of 20, but it takes forever to shake, poke, pluck, prod, climb, fall off, swear and climb up again. Peter has taken great delight in making long poles to whack the branches with and persuade the stubborn little buggers to jump while I scrabble about on hands and knees with nets and baskets and climb the trees to handpick the most clingy stragglers. We have spent an entire day, done 2 big trees and 4 small ones and only filled one little wicker basket. Hrumppfh. Rain (yes, it does rain here!) has stopped play for the time being but we are hopeful that we will fill at least one more basket before skipping off to the cooperativo and persuading them to process our meager wares. While P can normally be found with heavy and noisy equipment in some dark corner of the house, I keep my distance with sandpaper and chisels in another corner, so it’s been lovely just spending time alone together in the peace and quiet of the garden, sharing the same job and having a laugh along the way.

We have managed to have a few ‘posh’ days recently (ie dust and twig-free). First up was the arrival of Charlie and Jen for 5 days. We all wanted to take it very easy, which involved lying in most days, fondling yet more strange-looking vegetables (see pics) and the consumption of a scary amount of wine and cheese. They were kind enough to insist that if we did anything at all, it should be in places we haven’t yet been to ourselves. So we had our first experience of Palma beyond the airport, taking in a very posh antiques exhibition (including an original Picasso, artifacts from the far east and some beautiful 3,000 year old Persian glassware), lunch in a great wine bar and a bit of window shopping. All very elegant and picturesque, although the heavens opened and Jen and I spent the trip back with our socks on the car heater vents! A couple of days later, we ventured into Forte di Marmi - 45 minutes from our house and the third most expensive seaside resort in Italy (after Capri and Portofino). Pretty tree-lined avenues with Georgian and Edwardian houses, piazzas with fountains edged by eateries and hideously expensive designer shops and a relaxing, if slightly snotty atmosphere. Again, not great weather, but we did manage to walk along the old pier right into the sea, visit a stove shop to source our oven, and spend some time in the marble factory mentioned above.

Next up was the ruggers match between England and South Africa last weekend. We were kindly invited around to Matt and Sue’s palatial priory with Simon and Sarah to watch it on Sky. It was heaven to sit on heated cotto in a beautiful clean house, eating Sue’s delicious home-made samosas, sipping vino and trying not to laugh at all the swearing and yelling from the men.

We also got the chance to admire their tiny little chapel, which they have now renovated sympathetically. You can see the original murals and Sue has put candles and flowers in it. I may just use it to pray for salvation when Lecci becomes an even worse dust pit!

And finally, yesterday when we went to Lucca for the brilliant once-a-month antique fair that winds through the narrow cobbled streets. We were hoping that we might be able to pick up a reasonable old sink for the kitchen and fireplace for the dining room. But alas, the streets were completely empty. (Typically Italian – we found out from a waiter that the stallholders just fancied a different day, so they just went ahead and changed it without notice to the weekend before). But our journey wasn’t remotely wasted. We had a lovely liquid lunch outside in the sunshine (not something you can usually do in Blighty at the end of November) and then wandered into the fantastic medieval Arts School where a local fair was taking place. In the vaulted, muralled rooms were furniture, jewellery, paintings, sculptures, wines, cheeses, meats and other local produce and crafts all for sale. But the most exciting event was a free 2-hour concert in the Great Hall with a super baritone, pianist and a choir. We closed our eyes and heard everything from Mozart arias to African lullabys. A great strategy by Peter to stop his wife spending money on strange cheeses and expensive portraits of Puccini.

Cats are fine - much more settled although still hissing at each other on a daily basis. Kitten is fast asleep and sprawled out across my hand/the keyboard as I write, so my blog is probably full of typos! Weed has obviously now developed a healthy wanderlust. Last week, Peter had to utilize ladder and bravado when she got stuck up a high pine tree for hours and then on Saturday, after we returned from the ruggers, we heard a distant meowing and located it to behind the shed door. We had to call our landlord to conduct another rescue mission, this time on a high beam in the shed. P shrugged his shoulders in defeat and got the ladder out again. We hope that she stays ground-based for a few weeks.

Which brings me to a Nature Update. We are the proud owners of Italy’s biggest mushroom (see pics above, taken in the garden just by our house). We are too scared to eat it in case our hair falls out, we grow extra limbs and our blogs make less sense than normal. But it is a wonderful sight to behold.

Also, today we spotted some strange activity in our bedroom at Lecci (steady on, all lewd readers!). Marked in the dust is a labyrinth of tiny tracks. Three different types in fact. It looks like a worm in a miniature tank, a baby bird on drugs and a caterpillar with a feather duster had a drunken race on the floor overnight. I have never seen anything like it in my life. If anyone knows any tribal trackers, please do send them on to Cerignano.

Only other things of note: P set fire to himself while cooking for some friends, proving two things: Firstly, my husband should never cook and drink at the same time, and secondly my pet name for him of 'hot stud' is now more appropriate than ever! If that wasn't enough he also managed to fudge the Shaguar security code (His excuse? “I was bored waiting for a shop to open and thought I might get lucky and put in the right code.” Only 1 million combinations – what was he thinking of?!) so his car was disabled in a car park 5 miles away overnight and his wife slapped him a couple of times as a result. Meanwhile, because the convent isn’t warm enough with just the pellet fire and I am often up late because of my tum, he is cursing me for burning enough paraffin each week to heat up Helsinki in order to stop myself from shivering. Slaps and curses…we are so romantic aren’t we?!

Ciao per ora tutti. And congratulations to Rob and Gina for starting the ball-rolling on your own Mediterranean dream home – we can’t wait to read your building blog!

XXXX