Today we decided to do something about the shutters for the spare room. Opening them was not possible as one of the shutters was hanging off its hinge. This meant the room was rather dark and uninviting. With Rowan coming we wanted to make it more bright and airy.
We got the ladder out, propped it up against the side of the house from the ditch between us and our neighbours (Francesco and Mariagrazia) and I went up to take a look. Francesco popped out to see what we were up to and was soon getting involved in the proceedings. He told me I needed to oil the hinges and promptly went off to get some oil from his shed. When it became apparent that my screws weren’t up to the job of repairing the shutter he beetled off to get some better ones. He stayed and supervised my work till he was happy the shutter had been repaired properly. A delightful man and a lovely time bonding with a neighbour.
In the early evening the doorbell rang and I answered the door to three boys aged 10 or 11 on bikes. They knew we were English and had prepared a question with the help of Google translate. They had seen the marketing pictures for the house and knew there was a football pitch in the garden. They wanted to know if we would let them come and play football up there.
I took them up into the garden to show them just how high the grass was, but told them maybe in the future. They headed back out to the road and I closed the gates. When I got out to the street, there was a right old kerfuffle going on with our neighbour Stefano giving the boys a really hard time. It was not entirely clear to me whether he thought they had been cheeky to ask or whether he was unhappy with the idea of (these) local kids playing up there. Francesco’s wife Mariagrazia kept telling us to just say no.
It was all rather protracted and heated. When Lino rocked up to fill his watering cans at the standpipe the situation was explained to him and he quickly got very angry. I find it hard to understand what he’s saying, but there was definitely a “Porco Madonna” in there. He looked in danger of a stroke or heart attack. Anyway, I told them all that Domenico was coming the next day and we’d discuss it with him. This seemed to satisfy most. I told the kids to come back next week and I’d tell them what we had decided.
It was interesting that the neighbours told the boys that, whatever I’d said to them, it was for the Signora (Fenella) to decide.