Chilly and clear Fall weather frosts our grass at sunup and transforms our oaks to deep brilliant hues as the faltering golden sun descends in the west. I’ve harvested apples – a light green variety with rose colored patches that I’ve not yet been able to identify – and am preparing tomorrow to scoop up walnuts and chestnuts that have fallen to the ground; that is, if a lame right foot permits me to hobble the distance to the trees.
A wonky heel has crippled me a bit but I am determined to wear on, as, in the two weeks left until Francesco returns from Italy, I must be up and about to oversee the large quantity of work that is supposed to start tomorrow. If all goes well, our French contractors will be finishing the electrical system, installing insulation, putting up new walls, laying terra cotta floors, installing bathroom and kitchen fixtures, and connecting the radiators and heating grid.
Meanwhile Jez, our British handyman, will continue laying down wooden floors, installing woodstoves and new doors, and other bits and pieces that suit his jack-of-all-trades qualifications. (He is a former British army officer, educated at Sandhurst, and has proven to me over and over again in the past few weeks that a Royal Engineer certainly can match in spirit and deed the US navy Seabees’ famed ‘can do’ motto.)
Personally nice for me will be the weeklong visit of my dear old friend, Hans, who should arrive in time tomorrow to soothe my nerves and to help bark orders in his inimitable and effective German way.
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