Window dressing

We've settled easily into our Yorkshire life, it's always lovely to get back to the apartment and renew acquaintances with the inmates. We've already been to neighbours for drinks and tonight are next door for dinner so we feel very welcome.
And now we have new curtains.  We selected them before we went to Italy four months ago and they were made up ready when we got back. 

Unfortunately they couldn't be hung for a few days so despite the lovely day time view it wasn't exactly cosy in the penthouse at night with a large expanse of glass but well worth the wait. 

The special tape produces a wave pattern that gives dramatic pleats and works well as our track had to be hung from the ceiling to fit into the alcove for the doors.  Calculating the fabric dimensions, hook spacings etc was a challenge for the engineer, of course they fit perfectly.

                            

So the penthouse is looking smarter and smarter,  now with lovely views inside and out.

Both make me very happy but maybe the outside one is still the winner.

Home again

We've been back in Ilkley a couple of days and now it's snowing so I'm grateful we managed our long journey home in decent weather.  We had good stop offs, the ferry from Calais to Dover was practically empty if a bit choppy and the drive back to the north of England wasn't too bad.
So lets have some kitten photographs.

Crema, female, Rosso, male and Grigio female.

 They were soon introduced to my knitting bag

and appreciated a decent quality yarn

 Although who can resist an empty box

This is Marzio our kitten from last year,  now a rather infrequent and grumpy visitor but a very beautiful young man

The coloured one is Lisa, the mother, the black one Theo the uncle and of course the kitties.  They all liked to sleep on the terrace through the summer but moved into their apartment before we left.
So we miss them terribly and are of course a little worried but Marzio survived six months without us.  These three are older and stronger so we are just hoping for the best and plan to get back to them as soon as spring arrives. 

Leaving

We leave our house in Lazio  tomorrow and start the long journey home to Ilkley.  I hate this part, packing the house, saying goodbye to friends, anticipating long days in the road and worst of all leaving our three kittens, now six months old.  Crema, Rosso and Grigio have all been sterilised and are doing so well.  There are 15 large assorted bags of food for Mario to top up their feeder, two pillows in the insulated cat apartment, I really hope they will stay around until we return.  Whatever happens they've had a good start in life and we won't be coming back to more kittens from the two females.
My brother and sister in law arrived two weeks ago and helped us pick the olives.  Not so many this year but despite half the crop of last year we had an amazing yield and came home from the mill with 25 litres of really tasty oil.  Friends and neighbours are amazed and I forgave the people at the mill who told us the oil would be ready at 4 after we dropped off our harvest at 9.30.  We returned around 4.30 and we'd actually moved back in the queue.  The process eventually started around 6 and though we didn't really have enough olives to qualify for our own run they didn't mix us with anyone else and you should have seen our smiles when the oil just kept coming.  10 litres are already packed in the car.
So once I'm back I'll share some photos, cats mostly, meantime we are out tonight for one last pizza before an early start tomorrow for Piedmonte, our first overnight and our last day in Italy this year.

Back to the post office

I called in at our village post office thinking I'd stock up on stamps to avoid the incident in my previous blog post.  I waited patiently and when my turn came I asked for five one euro stamps. No no said the man, we have no stamps, no stamps at all I asked, not of any other value.  No he said.  Where can I buy stamps I asked, try the tobacconist he suggested.  Of course the tobacconist had none, the lady suggested I try the post office.
Later in the mini market a lady who has seen me in the post office asked if I'd found stamps, no I replied, we are a village without stamps.  She suggested I try the main post office at Anangi, about 10 miles away, actually I think I might invest in a pigeon.

At the post office

Friday we were in the little spa town of Fiuggi where I bought a postcard to send to Amelia my great niece as I'd missed her seventh birthday.  We had time to kill so wandered around and slightly out of the town where I came upon the post office and decided to get stamps.  I intend to send Esme a card later for her birthday.
I fathomed out which counter I needed, no 4 for stamps and general posting, the others for banking, bill paying etc and took a number for no 4.  There were a couple of people before me so I decided to start writing the card, post boxes being few and far between in these parts.
When it was my turn I asked in my best Italian for two stamps for postcards to England, tap tap on the computer for a while till she told me it was a euro each.  Give me the card said the lady and I handed it over, half written and with no address.  She looked at it and I said I hadn't finished, finish it she said rather abruptly tossing it back with a pen.  So I stood at the counter hastily penning a few words and finding the addresss from my diary, not daring to look round at the queue building behind me.  I handed the card over, much more tapping of the computer, then the lady said give me the other card.  I explained I hadn't bought it yet. I wanted the stamp to take away.  I realised at this stage that she intended to frank my completed card rather than give me two stamps.  She looked at me then shouted down the line of counters, she wants a stamp to take away as if I was some kind of freak Eventually an assistant from another till went into the back room and came out with the requested stamp, with a lengthy code written on it in pencil that had to be tapped into the computer. At this stage I was reminded of the days when you took your building society pass book to pay in a couple of pounds and all the tapping that involved.
Finally I got my single stamp, my completed card was thrown on top of the printer and the lady looked down her nose at it, maybe she was pretending to read it.  I never saw it franked,  I have no idea if it will ever arrive, I wish they had stamp vending machines in Italy.

Close encounters

My turn to get up first this morning, open the shutters to the sunshine, feed the cats and make a pot of tea.  I could hear dog activity in the olives below our house, the hunting dogs wear bells so they owners know where they are as do we and the cats.  The noise got nearer, the cats came indoors and I wandered onto the terrace still wearing my dressing gown to see a man with a gun coming up the steps into our garden.  I shouted good morning, I think he was as surprised as me, returned my greeting, apologised and turned back into our orchard.  I asked if there was some animal in the orchard but he didn't answer.  The dog activity, barking and howling, continued in the orchard for a while, then receded down the slope until there were three shots.  I have no idea what the man was hunting but after that he seemed to disappear and silence returned.
We are in a region designated for hunting wild boar and last Sunday there was much shooting on the mountain above us.  We took a late afternoon walk to the village and were passed by two pick up trucks, one of which had a dead boar in the back, a massive creature with large tusks.  The hunters drove through the village blowing their horns as they do at a wedding, obviously wanting everyone to see their success.  My neighbour told me later the creature had been killed just above us.
I hope this mornings hunter wasn't on the trail of a boar, we have had evidence in the past of them rooting in the orchard and on our lawn, I don't want to meet one face to face.  Rumour has it they are becoming more confident around property in the way of urban foxes and more aggressive too.  Life in Italy, it certainly has its wild side.

About time

It was confirmed that I am the worlds worst blogger when I had an email from Canada asking if I was OK as I hadn't posted since the earthquake.  I haven't posted as I'm not sure you want to hear more about the lovely weather, delicious food and local wines straight from the vineyard, one of which has been crossed off the list since their large German shepherd dog attacked our car and scratched it down to the metal.  A pity as their wine is good.
In fact we've had many car problems and at one stage I didn't leave the property or see anyone except Mr FF for two weeks.  At first I enjoyed the solitude, all our neighbours had moved back to Rome but after a week I started to go a bit stir crazy.  Two days after our car was repaired in a nearby village taking several days and costing us 250 euros the exhaust pipe came loose fortunately in our own village so we limped to the little garage here with Mr FF driving slowly which I crawled alongside holding up the dragging pipe with a golf umbrella.  The mechanic confirmed the problem was caused by the previous work and fixed it temporarily, ordered a new clamp, installed that and charge us 20 euros.  We would have used the village garage in the first place but he was busy and recommended the other place. Big mistake.
We've done all the usual things, enjoyed many festas in various little squares, made new friends, visited and been visited by old friends, been for a weekend at the sea and loved having our little kitties around, two are asleep beside me on a chair the other tightly curled up in the waste paper basket.
Today we are off to the airport as friends are coming out from Yorkshire for a few days, unfortunately the forecast isn't great and it's been raining, it will be such a pity if for the first time in three months we can't have breakfast outside.
We are eating much of our own fruit and veg and watching the olives start to turn black.  Another year where everyone is complaining of a poor harvest, fingers crossed we have enough for a mill run but I rather doubt it which means we shall need to find someone with an equally small crop we can
double up with.
So there you are, things are much as they always are in Italy which suits me just fine but doesn't lead to much interesting blogging but I will try harder to keep you up to date in future.