Florence Day 8

I woke this morning to the sound of road rollers (we used to call them steamrollers when I was growing up) outside the bedroom window and loud voices shouting to each other in Italian.  A lovely language no doubt but not what one wants to hear so early in the morning.

A call from New Zealand and a tepid shower had me dressed and wondering what to do today.  However, it was raining hard and it was cold so I decided that as I wasn’t pressed for time here in Florence I would have a lazy day and maybe go out once the rain stopped.

About an hour later there was a ring on the door bell to announce the arrival of Ornella (the mother of the owner) and her friend Rosanna.  They had come to see about the lavatrice (washing machine),  Well wouldn’t you know it. – Ornella plugged the electric cord in, pushed the same buttons that three other adults had pushed a couple of days ago and lo and behold the dashed machine started to work.  Ornella called over the dividing wall the to the neighbour in not too friendly terms and I thought Rosanna was telling me that she Ornella had come from Rome to sort this out.  I must have been mistaken.  I did know that she was going to Rome last Tuesday for a few days so maybe she had just returned today.

There followed stilted conversation mostly in Italian during which Ornella told me that the artwork/paintings in the apartment were hers, the embroidered panel on the wall was hers as were the other knick knacks around the place. I told her that I couldn’t paint or even thread a needle which brought smiles of disbelief.  And then after much kissing of cheeks and many ciaos, grazies, pregos and I think promises to keep in touch they departed.

No sooner had they left than the  postman called.  This conversation was a trifle more difficult to follow.  But as I understood it he had a letter for Ornella and no he couldn’t give it to me but he would come back domani (tomorrow).  I tried in my stilted fashion to tell him lei non qui ( I think that is she not here). but he smiled and said grazie e domani.  So no doubt if I am here in the morning when he comes we shall go through the whole thing again,  Isn’t it fun being in a country with such a very limited vocabulary.

In the event the rain didn’t let up until around 4 pm at which time I took myself  off to the supermercado to buy something for dinner.

So apologies no photos from today.  But I am sure there will be more tomorrow.

And here is my rainbow for those of you who need a little cheer in your life,  I hope you are all as happy as I am.

Rainbow

My rainbow

So I had an

 

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18 responses to “Florence Day 8

  1. Sometimes when travelling it is great to have a quiet day to simply soak in the atmosphere of being in another country and enjoy the culture. You seem to be having a great time.

  2. Wonderful to just stay in for a day.

  3. I’m delighted you’re happy and that the tempramental washing machine is back in action…at least until domani.
    xxx Huge Hugs xxx

  4. Those machines do it deliberately! I hope it’s still working and you can get your washing doen.

  5. Hi, Judith! How’s your washing going now?
    Isn’t it great to always get calls from New Zealand?
    I love your rainbow. Cheers, Uta. 🙂

  6. Even staying home there on a rainy day sounds like an adventure! 🙂

  7. Isn’t that always how it goes with appliances. You call for help and what you had done or someone had done for you suddenly works. Still, glad your washing machine is working.

    It’s been a busy weekend, so I’ve missed a few posts. Will try to catch up tomorrow. Glad you finally got a break in the rain, as well.

    Hugs from Ecuador,
    Kathy

  8. You’ve been there a week already! Time flies when you get a tepid shower every morning.

  9. So, did the postman call back ?
    I imagine you’re starting to become known there now as “the strange English lady” although more likely … “the Happy English Lady”.
    🙂

    • No I haven’t had any more conversations with the postman. And as I don’t understand hat they are saying who knows how the neighbours describe me.

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