11 mesi: Primavera, progress, propping, pink privy, perfect peas, posh signs, parting, pretending to be Arthur Daley, practising vows of silence

Juliet writes:

Cara amici,

Well, I’ve hardly had time to sneeze since my last blob. It’s all go at Villa dei Lecci!

The building site is coming along nicely, although we have had two unexpected delays (and, ergo, bills). Firstly, a super engineer friend of Giovanni’s came round to appraise the wonkiness of our walls and floors after we had expressed some concern that walking around the kitchen, lounge and back bedrooms felt like being drunk. On a boat. In a storm. We were worried that we would have to underpin the whole back of the house, which we really can’t afford to do. Anyway, he thought of a much cheaper, faster and hopefully just as secure alternative: we would need to lay and weld thick metal mesh under all floors, then lay steel rods over the top and attach them to the back and front of the house with large chain bolts (which you do see everywhere around here as it is an earthquake zone. They are actually quite pretty and rustic.) All that has taken a week to do (and a large chunk of our budget). But better to be safe and we certainly can’t do it later once we’ve laid the floors.

In addition, due to our geometra being rather useless, he hadn’t drafted permission for our scaffolding in time, so while we waited for him to get his finger out of his proverbial our order went to another client. We have had to wait for someone to return more scaffolding to the yard before we had enough.

I still want to adopt the builders though – they are conscientious, hardworking, fast, fastidious, funny and very sweet (they have refused to charge for certain things because they know we are paupers!). All the channeling has been done for electrics and waste pipes and then covered over again, every wall in the house has been repaired and covered in a rough cement, the floor and wall-strengthening chains done, the floors have had their first coat of cement and the en suite and two arches and two front bedrooms have had their finishing plasterwork, with the rest to be completed this week. It is so thrilling being able to run one’s fingers over the walls and not get blisters, electric shocks or white dust everywhere. In fact in places, if you use all your imagination, it is almost starting to look like a house.

In the garden, primavera has most definitely arrived, with its full bird chorus, beautiful blossoms breaking out on the trees, bees humming, bluebells sprouting and much warmer days – see pics. Our large mimosa has the most stunning yellow springtime display. Well I say large, it has diminished somewhat this month… let me explain. A couple of weeks ago it was La Festa della Donna. Basically this is a Europe-wide day of celebration for all ladies, of any age. It is traditional for men to give mimosa to their mothers, daughters, wives etc. As the local florist was selling them for around E4 a stem, we were very popular that weekend with all the builders, neighbours etc coming round to lop a few branches off! Still, it will grow back and it was lovely to give something to our neighbours/workmen after all they have done for us.

We have been enjoying the extended hours of sunshine that March has brought for our garden work, although darling hub is slumped into a depression because his best friend (the chainsaw) has died again. As a distraction, I asked him to clear out the cluttered shed to temporarily house our chopped wood. We had a surprise when he unearthed an outdoor loo, complete with bright pink walls. P gave me a look of disgust when I suggested that it might be useful and, despite my protestations, hastily filled it in with rubble. I love Lecci – we are always uncovering strange and wonderful things. The other day when I was weeding the veg patch, I found a 1 Lira coin from 1917. I think it might be lucky because my peas have already come up! Two rows of strong, shiny, bright green saplings. I am so excited I am already looking into how many uses I can find for peas: so far I’ve got three – in soups, on salads, as weapons of mass destruction - all other ideas welcomed.

For a break away from the dust, we had our first day out in weeks – to the marble capital Pietrasanta. We love the place – elegant, historic and full of busy workshops and talented craftsmen. We put a deposit down on our hall floors (pavimenti), had a spot of lunch, looked for a fireplace (all too expensive for us) and picked up some bargain Calla lilies. Earlier in the week, I had rummaged in a huge pile of marble offcuts trying to find the right shape and size for a new house sign (I have no pride or shame when it comes to freebies!). We decided that ‘Villa dei Lecci’, as it is now known, should have a sign to match its soon-to-be noble appearance. So we took the piece of Carrara’s finest to a little family workshop just outside Pietrasanta and the lovely Massimo carved our request in classical Roman/trajan lettering (see pics above). And all for E20 and a bit of cheekiness! Not bad considering the only other quote I’d had was over E200 :o) The sign will be put up the day we move in… watch this space.

On Saturday we went from smiles to tears, as P and I said our goodbyes and he took his beloved Jag back to its spiritual home. With seven nights away, it was a heart-wrencher for both of us, as we have not spent more than 3 nights apart in 10 years. We have been pining for each other like demented werewolves, calling every few hours and blowing kisses on Skype. Current news is that he arrived in very good time and fine health on Sunday night. So far he has met up with James and Amy, chatted to Ben and been spoilt by Anya, who made him a full Sunday roast on arrival. He is pleased to report that all plumbing and miscellaneous items have been picked up and the new car (well, a 20 year old VW golf, but new to us) is sturdy and strong enough for the exceptionally heavy shopping list it will be couriering back to Tuscany.

Unfortunately the Shaguar didn’t have such a promising start. Mr Staveley – prize-winning buffoon that he is – forgot to check the MOT date and, as it expired a couple of weeks ago, he was unable to flog it in the auction. A mad panic ensued to get the checks done, but it overheated and failed before it had even finished. P resigned himself to leaving it off-road where it would eventually go to scrapheap heaven. However, as unbelievable luck would have it, he was in a B&Q car park and a nice chap spotted the advert we had written for the auction. As a Jag lover who has always wanted one but could never afford one, he convinced Peter to join him in a nearby coffee shop and work out a fair price. All faintly reminiscent of Arthur Daley methinks. So P got his money (not as much as he wanted but a hell of a lot better than nothing), the chap got his dream car (he is going to overhaul it himself) and the Jag goes to a very loving home… Incidentally the new owner just happens to be Iranian – his father was over from Tehran and helped him to inspect the Jag! Ah, Persians have such good taste :o)

So tomorrow (Thursday) morning, Mr S will be making his merry way back to Lecci in a downgraded model, at about 80 miles an hour slower than the outbound journey. Thanks to Chris, whose military experience meant he could tie the best knots to hold the car and its load together, P should be ok. I believe the glove compartment is full of Marmite, there is Branston pickle in the exhaust pipe and no room for a mouse to fart inside. Poor little Golfie (or Lulu as I have now christened her as she is carrying so many toilets)! Unless the suspension waves the white flag, he should be arriving late on Friday, or sometime on Saturday. Needless to say, I can’t wait.

Meanwhile, I have been coping with the deafening silence of the nunnery by pretending I am a nun. But it’s not all prayers and dirty habits – I have been extremely busy! At the weekend, with glorious sunshine to help me, I pruned another 2 rows of vineyard. It took me 3 hours just to do one particularly tricky half a row. You need patience and sheer bloody-mindedness to be a vintner. In between this, I sanded down and painted a salvaged mirror for our bathroom and rubbed down and undercoated one pair of interior shutters. Only another 10 pairs to go, and then there are the 11 exterior pairs, the 9 large interior doors, the 9 door frames, the 14 window and exterior door frames… *sigh*

On Monday I spent the morning stuck at the nunnery trying to locate our furniture. As you probably know, everything arrived by mistake back in June last year. We were then assured it was safely returned to Blighty, so we added a clawfoot bath to it. An email came through to tell us it had arrived and would be put with the rest of our stuff. Imagine our surprise a few weeks ago when we received an email from a chap in Milan asking when we wanted our furniture delivered and could we pay him for storage since June! After 100 unanswered calls our UK removals company, I finally got through to the boss, to be appeased by the fact that they are still afloat, the bath is safe and sound (albeit lonely) and they will pay the Milan storage depot when they bring round our stuff. Let’s hope they stick to that or we will live like hobos for the rest of our lives.

Our first visitors in five months arrive next Wednesday, so I have cleaned the nunnery up as it has been sorely neglected since the building work started. We can’t wait to see you Nursey and Mark! They will be with us to celebrate a whole year of living in Italy. Where has it gone? Who knows, but bring on the prosecco anyway!

As for the rest of this week, the scaffolding (ponteggio) arrives tomorrow – hoorah! This means Stepan and Ivan can finish the metal bolts, reshape the landing window and also start on the exterior plasterwork, while I follow behind (not looking down as I am a chicken for heights) with my paintbrush. I am hoping for signs of Andrea our plumber – he has promised to start tomorrow (sound familiar?). My broken bathroom sink is being replaced by another – to arrive shortly. Also, our lovely neighbour Ivan (not to be confused with builder Ivan) – the owner of many large pieces of machinery – is coming tomorrow morning to dig out the hole and channel for our gas tank. I will collar him to do some terrace levelling, tree trunk removing and kitchen garden plotting. Oh, for the sight of a neat box hedge amid the chaos!

So all is moving, although admittedly in fits and starts… not unlike someone I know on the channel ferry tomorrow…

Ciao per ora, bellisimi amici XXX

10 months: Beautiful bricks, amazing arches, brauny builders, verdant veggies… and one completely contented couple (well almost)

Juliet writes:

Cara amici,

Evviva!!! Blow your trumpets, knit some pompoms, hug random strangers and open that bottle of 1973 Chateaux De Hoorah, building work has started at Ca’ dei Lecci!!!

After fraught negotiations with the geometra on the morning of Monday 23rd we were finally given permission to turn the dust pit into a rubble pit. Building signs were quickly purchased, filled in and hung up (obligatory here). The bricks, cement and sand (oh what a beautiful sight) arrived in the afternoon and the builders began at the crack of dawn on Tuesday. Finally, after a mere ten months of waiting, we are beginning to realise our dream. And we are just staggered as to how much they have achieved in only 10 days.

Ukranian brothers Stepan and Ivan (who I want to adopt because they are so lovely) must be the fastest builders in Italia. They work from 7am until 5pm, including Saturdays, with a few minutes break for lunch. Although they have been here for 15 years and speak Italian flawlessly, they are teaching us a few Ukranian words… in Italy with an Irishman for back-up. Just one of the many surprises in the last few days.

As you can see from the above pics, so far we are the proud owners of two new archways (from lounge to library and kitchen to dining room, well, dusty space to dusty space), a new en suite bathroom in one of the bedrooms, a larger landing window, a straighter cantina door, a new cloakroom loo and a lot of rubble. We have also lost 2 and a half walls, a chimney breast (to be replaced with a larger one), a casing full of asbestos, the remains of the old bathroom, many euros and some marbles.

I cannot begin to express how excited we are about all the activity after so much stagnation. Take this afternoon for example. We had an appointment at the house with our plumber Andrea. Prior to his arrival, we were chatting with Stepan about reinforcing the foundations at the back of the house, which is worth a little diversionary sentence. We didn’t know how to describe underpinning (apparently there isn’t a word for it in Italian) so P proudly announced in his best accent: ‘Sottopene’ – which I promptly informed him meant under-willy! Anyway, I digress. While we were sniggering, the electrician turned up with his nephew Stefano. As I vaguely remembered the Italian words for socket and ceiling, I took them around and set about marking the various plugs and points (I got some odd looks for wanting light switches inside rooms rather than outside and had a 15 minute heated discussion about the new Italian law which makes it compulsory to have alarm bells in every bathroom). Within a few minutes, the carpenter turned up with his assistant, shortly followed by Jim. I shoved them in the direction of Peter only to see Andrea walking up the garden path. And so it went on. At one point there were 10 men in our house (steady on girls!). The only one with an actual appointment had to wait an hour to have a proper conversation about waste pipes. He didn’t seem to mind too much, in fact worryingly he seemed to know more about electrics than the electrician. In Italy, everyone loves to dispense with advice. At one point 6 people were in our bedroom all loudly projecting their opinions on where we should put our ‘matrimonial’ bed, in order to fit it around the electrics. I don’t believe we had a say :o)

Like anywhere in the world, you always have to wait a long time for decent plumbers, but the highly recommended Andrea, much to our relief, will start laying pipes next week. I suppose that shows the downturn in the building industry as part of the global economic collapse. Or maybe just that he is keen to start as we are paying him the equivalent of the national debt of Iceland. Anyway, we like him, he is less than all the other quotes, is local and understands modern systems and newfangled things like solar panels (strangely a rarity here).

At this rate, we may even have a proper house (or, dare I say ‘villa’) in a month or two. Good job, as our first 2009 visitors are due in April and we are getting a bit fed up with the psychopathic shower, leaky taps, temperamental stufa and furry damp walls (really, they are actually furry) in the nunnery.

To save money and keep out of the way of drillbits and concussion-inducing bricks, P and I have been doing yet more gardening. Hubby had quite a scare last week when he was tidying up under a tree and saw a human hand poking out from the soil. He had visions of sordid murder mysteries and Hercule Poirot turning up at the door. Luckily, upon tentatively prodding it with a rake, he discovered it was plastic. We have absolutely no idea why, but the previous owners obviously thought it was a good idea to bury a female mannequin there, all chopped up into pieces. A traditional Italian ritual that we do not know about? A celebration of the patron saint of serial killers? Or just the work of a complete nutter? It will remain a mystery, but at least P has now uncovered and disposed of most of it. Further limbs to be revealed when we dig for the swimming pool.

Back to comparative normality, P helped me to turn over our veggie patch, complete with furrows. The earth is beautiful – just crammed with nutrients so no need for my compost heap afterall. Better still, my waistline is returning after hours of digging out pathways and laying bricks. I have even managed to sow a few seeds due to the glorious weather we had last week. First off, the taller, hardier stuff - tomatoes, peas, peppers and aubergines. Carrots, parsnips, radishes and shorter veg to follow next week, and then more in April. The Italians swear by lunar planting – for example, all the local seeds I’ve bought have symbols of half moons or waxing crescent moons on them under sowing instructions. Apparently this encourages growth and strength. I am a complete amateur in such a large and slightly wacky undertaking so if I manage to get one sprout I will be delighted.

I’ve also done about 150 cuttings for my box hedging to outline the kitchen garden. Need another 150 and the help of neighbour Ivan’s digger next week and then I can get cracking. Can’t wait as it will be the first formal area of the garden and I will almost be able to believe we live in a civilised palazzo, if I close one eye and drink enough wine.

We’ve also bought some bargain fruit trees from a local nursery to replace the old and rotten ones in the orchard. Two pears (William and Kaiser), a cherry and a plum with more to follow when we can afford it and when our backs can cope with yet more digging.

Meanwhile in the vineyard, thanks to the indispensable advice of neighbours Franco and Guiseppe, I’ve been pruning back hard and tying up the shoots for this year’s crop. Hard to do with only 5 rotten posts and just enough wire to knit a tetanus jumper. But that’s a project for next year. P got his chainsaw back and has spent a couple of days happily massacring the olive trees (apparently necessary for better fruit), while I’ve helped to de-ivy them – a mammoth task after years of neglect. At least Tumble, who walks with us to the house some days, thoroughly enjoys running up the trees between pruning shears and saws. She makes Weed look like a University Challenge champion.

Talking of olive trees, we are delighted to hear the latest news from Rob and Gina Billington that they have purchased their own sunny plot in Andalucia. It comes with over 5,000m2 of mountainside with olive grove and sounds gorgeous. We look forward to hearing of their progress in the coming months and showing them our pruning scars. Many congrats Mr and Mrs B :o)

Aside from all the lavoro, we have been having fun with our Italian amici. We cooked a roast lunch for Leo and Elena (a long-overdue thank you for all their lovely meals) and then the following Sunday again for Giovanni, Giovanna, her lovely mum Marina and their two children. It was amusing to note the surprised expression on their faces when we served them gravy, stuffing, cauliflower cheese and roast potatoes (they don’t have such) and told them to eat everything together at the same time (they don’t do such). But it went down really well, especially P’s famous roasties. We were invited back to our landlords’ house a few days later for a veritable feast. The Staveleys are not known for their impeccable time-keeping skills so P rang and told Giovanni ‘Cinque minuto’, which means ‘five minute’ instead of the plural. 20 minutes later when we turned up, Giovanni seemed to think this slight grammatical error was hilarious. So Peter has gone from City Boy to Five Minute Man… not sure which is worse?!

But Five Minute Man is rather wonderful. The day before San Valentino (9 years since I said ‘yes’), hubby treated me to a gorgeous massage… at only E20 for over an hour I may forgo a few things in the house for some follow-ups! This was followed by a meal in a restaurant we haven’t yet tried in Fivi. Alessio, the Milanese owner-chef was delightful, cooked the most delicious risotto I’ve ever had and better still, is a keen sailor so has offered to take us out on a 40-footer in the Cinque Terre in Spring/Summer. How lucky are we?!

Although even paradise has a few problems… the weather has now taken a turn for the worst. Yesterday and today is has been chucking it down and as I type there is the most dramatic thunder and lightening outside (hence wide awake and writing at 6am). Our local florist Maria joked with us that she has mushrooms growing all over her because she is so damp. So tomorrow it’s on with the galoshes for more gardening/swimming and a prayer to the patron saint of dryness.

Ciao per ora, carissimi amici
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