The skies were blue. The temperatures mild. A light breeze was out of the West auguring well for bell tempo during our pre-Pasqua weekend at Il Poggiolo and You’s dreaded yet, inevitable Spring Garden Inspection Tour: 2015. What fun.
We arrived last Friday at about Noon. The Dogs were beyond crazed to get out of the AUDI to refresh their Weimaraner memories of the odours of Codiponte. We Human Beings discussed the notion of eating and to move things quickly along for a meal prepared by someone other than myself, I offered to take You out for pranzo. If you wish, said he, Whatever you want. And I said, So, let’s go! The Dogs were bribed with bread and sent to their respective poltrone inside L’Appartamento Azzurro. A nice fire had been laid to keep them especially toasty-warm while the mid-day sun poured in through the double-doors of the apartment. But You?
He had gone off by himself and without a word. Oh! It’s begun. The Inspection. Nothing more to do with the last minutes left for me to live and drink white wine upon this Earth than go sit in the FIAT and wait… stomach growling terribly. 43 minutes later You appeared. He opened the passenger door, got in, shut the door and from that moment on and for the next 4.7 hours all I got was His Silence. Cannot tell you how much fun our pranzo was. Under different circumstances You’s non-ti-parlo stance might have been tolerable, enjoyable even but, having shared real-estate… and other things too… with the fellow for the past seventeen years, I knew what was going to happen. And it did. Punctually, at the Cocktail Hour… and he don’t drink!… You caused the air-waves to vibrate with his negative comments on every single little thing I had laboured to do… busted butt would be the American expression… to bring Il Poggiolo’s Garden back up to snuff after its Winter’s repose. How foolish to hope that not all of my efforts would be to his displeasure, such as, seeing reason in cutting back the hydrangeas to avoid droopy bows, trimming the mulberry trees and their grass killing shade or, saving the peach tree from snapping its gangly branches at the height of the fruit bearing month of July. He HATED it all!!! You even commented on what I had not done, i.e. pruning the persimmon of its severely vertical profusion of last year’s cut and new growth. Then, he stopped.
He had found a counter-outlet. While I weed-whacked the grassy path up and around Il Poggiolo Sunday AM, You took shears and decimated the former Chicken Corner along the ramp from the aia to the Appt. Azzurro. He professes to all who will listen that this corner was to be His Corner. Yes, certainly, of course it will be, darling. You asked for oleanders and he got oleanders. He asked for sage and he got sage. He asked for rose bushes and he got three of them. He wanted a cica palm and he now has a cica palm. He also got a cypress he did not want, a weird green & gold bush which hides the ugly cement retaining wall and my favourite flowering bush from The South, althea in variegated florals of white, red & lille. We may be even now. Yet, due to those undesired for additions, You has never taken kindly to His Corner. Thus, he got back at my exploits by employing his shear-arts and is now, I am relieved to say, a happy Il Poggiolo Camper. Everything got a crew-cut.
Inspection for 2015 is now, thankfully, History. We all… Dogs included… can get on with our lives. Buona Pasqua a tutti!!! Gads.