The Wombles of Capriglia and Capezzano

On the main road at the end of our track is a parking space containing the local recycling bins. Things don’t stay there long - recovering and redistributing is the local sport.

So far we’ve acquired a table for the terrace

two sun loungers


a garden bench in need of resuscitation


and (best find) a deep porcelain sink that’s going to become a herb garden.


Yesterday I was beaten to an ice box (ex Ikea, pristine) by an elderly Italian lady twice my width but much less inhibited about climbing into the skip and having a serious rummage. A television set with a broken, but fixable, on/off switch made up for it later. So now we can watch Berlusconi TV with half naked girls on seven inch heels fawning over paunchy, middle-aged presenters!

I can't believe how lucky I am to be here.  It's the kind of luck where you feel it's too perfect to continue - something is bound to go wrong.  How British is that?



Comments

  1. Recycling at its most efficient!

    There is no need to wish the worst on yourself!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular Posts