It is time to say goodbye to Italy. As always I am conflicted between the sadness of leaving my parents and my grandparents and the happiness of going back home to my routine and fresh weather.
Yes, I need fresh air as I am not sure if it is the age, the hormones or what else, but this summer I struggle with the heat. Well, according to everybody it was a common problem not helped by the 80 % of humidity. Oh boy, how people can live in subtropical areas all year round is still a mystery to me.
To think more deeply, I am not only in need of fresh air, but I am in need of air, full stop!
Considering the time the travelling husband and I had also spent in Boston it is now four weeks we are enjoying each other company 24/7: very much an extended time and even longer if we add the girls. Typically when in Italy they usually have plenty of sleepovers at the grandparents’, but this summer they didn’t and apart for the two weeks they were here on their own, they always stayed attached to us like mussels to the rocks.

Day One, Thursday

We are ready to leave to go the airport, I am unprecedently on time and had forgotten nothing.
While we are queuing to drop our bags with a huge surprise I spotted behind us “the man with the open flap”.”What a coincidence”, I think, and as most of you are wondering: No, he didn’t have his trousers’ flap open. But sure he had a long holiday and sure as he is still with his two kids he must be in need of air too.
The plane is an hour delayed, and a further delay is accumulated when we land in Dublin as there is some equipment in the middle of the landing strip and they are waiting for someone to remove it,”welcome to Ireland ladies and gentleman”!
We are eventually out of the airport and in the taxi on our way home: Home sweet home. Before we left, I gave it a deep clean so that on my return I had nothing to do but unpack, and believe me that is an engaging job on its own.
From the outside, everything seems in order and inside too, at first glance. A very much first glance because at the second one I immediately spotted something wrong in the sitting room. It looked like it had rained bird’s shit. A bird must have been in there while we were away.
Once established the chimney was the only way the feathered creature could have possibly have come in, despite the bird blocker at its top, we started looking for the culprit of such mess or, depending on how long it had been in there, its cadaver.
Of course, the lucky finder was me. The lifeless animal was lying on the ground beside the sofa. Before dropping dead, the poor thing must have checked all the house’s windows in the attempt to get out. Every single window, and window seal, in the house, is splattered in bird’s poo.
I call the husband to dispose of the corpse, after all, he is the fowler of the family, and this accident can reasonably be nothing but karma for him, except it will be me cleaning the shit, and never a word was more appropriate !!!.

Day Two, Friday

The husband goes back to work, and the girls and I are getting ready to go to collect the dogs.
After three weeks in the kennel, I expect them to be quite stinky so we are supposed to go with the travelling husband’s car where they can go in the boot, but the travelling husband’s car got a flat tyre, and we have to go with my car and let them go to the seats. Anticipating we will be covered in hair and possibly smell, we change and dress like we are about to bog jumping. Mr Tom, the kennel owner, is very good and sprayed them with lavender cologne, but still, they stink. Thankfully the weather is nice, and we can open the windows, that is quite annoying on the motorway but at least we can breathe. Once home one after the other the all five of us had a bath and with the occasion, the car has been brought for a full car valeting too. To be truthful the dogs were not entirely to blame. The vehicle was in disgracefully condition even before and when the girls, who are usually used to it, said:”mom the car is filthy gross”, then I realised it was about time to give it a bath too.

Day Three, Saturday

The bags are unpacked.
The dogs are back, washed and scented.
The girls are settled back into their environment and unglued themselves from their parents.
The travelling husband is busy in between preparing the last few bits and bobs for the new hunting season and catching up with the English tv.
The house is pristine because it had a deep clean before I left and thanks to my late feathered friend another deep clean after I came back.
I am chilling and reading proudly wearing my new reading glasses.

While in Italy, not only I bought a glamorously chic pair of shoes retro style that I am dying to wear and I am sure my friend Dominique (3cstyle.com) would graciously approve, but I also got a pair of reading glasses. My farsight problem could not be ignored anymore and merely lifting my regular short sight glasses was not enough any longer. Some of us are naturally blonde, I am naturally shortsighted and astigmatic, reason because of I can’t use ready-made reading glasses but I had to have my lenses specially made. Switching between shades and clear glasses and having to carry around their bulky boxes was a pain enough, now I have a third pair too, but oh boy, all worth it! Whatever text is appearing on my phone it now makes sense, and I can replay not looking like an illiterate because I can see what I am typing. Not only that, but I can also go back to read paper books and not only kindle edition because I don’t have to adjust the size of the words to read them. Not even working at the pc gives me a headache anymore and the screen is not blurry. A new close world opened in front of me!

Day Four, Sunday

I am trying not to be bothered by the husband laughing at me because I keep going around the house with a pair of glasses on my nose and one on my head. Patience and understanding is the key to a long marriage they say and I certainly must agree and be grateful I still have one,(a marriage). While still in Italy, in fact, it turned out that out of seven couple of our old friends, three recently divorced and one had already opened the road a few years back. In fairness in their case patience and understanding had nothing to do with it, it was more all connected to some young secretaries, but still….as they also say, better safe than sorry!
Anyway, back to my still healthy marriage, when the last joke about me being in need of a second head because I have no space left for my sunglasses, I decided it was time to test it. (Seriously testing, not like when an ex-girlfriend of 25 years ago showed up at his parents’ hotel asking for him). The travelling husband hates eyeglasses’ chain and, even if I quite dislike them too, that it is precisely what I’m going to buy. He will have to bear with the sight of me wearing those grandma things around the house all the time. And at the same time he will realise that one head is more than enough for three pairs of eyeglasses: one on my head, one on my nose and one on my neck.!I drove to the nearest optician but the cost of those chains doesn’t worth the satisfaction of making a prank of my husband, beside, after I studied them for a few minutes, I realised I could quickly and easily make one myself.
I drove back home, I got out my art and craft box, I confiscated all the girls’ small beans, and I started working.
The chain had to be ready before the husband was back from his tennis match, and so it was.
From my bedroom’s window, I spotted him parking the car in front of the gate. I run downstairs and position myself. He came in and cannot but laugh at the sight of his wife browsing magazines wearing her new sparkly shoes and her reading glasses secured to their new colourful chain.
“You now need another one for your other glasses”, he says.
“Damn, I knew I should have made one for each pair”, I think!
Never a bit of satisfaction in this house!!!