We pulled up to the house, bathed in Good Fridays afternoon sunshine, ecstatic
that we had actually caught the builders working, and not just 1 or 2 of them but a whole cohort of Chiasserini's men toiling away, on what is a holiday in most other parts of Europe. We were early for our planned site meeting and keen to get updated with the developments as we hadn't heard from Alberto in 10 days. As we rounded the corner of our neighbours house our hearts sunk, why did we have doors, when there should be windows??? When, how, why did this happen?, this isn't what we discussed, argued, chivvied about for so long with all and sundry. As they say in football circles, I was gutted!
Unfortunately no time to dwell on that for the moment, we had (as usual) a carload to empty, this time the new Stufa, one big radiator and 4 very large rolls of loft insulation, time to press gang a few helping hands to save my aching back, and in double quick time the Stufa was sitting in pride of place amongst the builders detritus in the kitchen, and the rear suspension breathed a sigh of relief. The troops then started to muster, first Chiasserini, followed by Alberto & Virna, Tizzi (the Plumber), and eventually, the man we were all talking about Magalotti (Carpenter). I must say that even though I was in full flow with the site meeting I was so pissed with him it took me more than 10 minutes to even say hello, and what Mrs J had to about it say made Alberto's eyes water.
The site meeting flowed well from room-to-room, admiring the work done in the 10 day communication blackout, such as:- second coat of plaster, ALL the floors down (and with 4 guys busily grouting them in), front & rear doors fitted, and also those doors we didn't want also fitted. We did have a few sticking points along the way, most noticeably concerning the loft insulation, which I threatened to do myself, but I eventually capitulated as my back was killing me after the drive down, but making Chiasserini swear that he would do in a lot less than the 12 hours he had quoted for, I mean, get a life, 12 hours to fit 4 rolls of insulation, my Granny could do it quicker than that.
We also had a lengthy debate with the tiler (who was presently doing the floor), about how not to waste the precious tiles that were only just enough to do the job. This would have been a doddle, if it wasn't for Alberto chipping in with seemingly random ideas to how to save tiles, do it this way and that, and generally making a nuisance of himself. I even asked VP for the Italian for 'the customer is always right', to be told (by Alberto) that it didn't work like that in Tuscany, I should have known!
After all other points were finished, and Chiasserini & Tizzi had left, it was down to Magalotti, me and the doors. And do you know what, apparently it was my fault, another thing I should have known, he misunderstood my instructions, therefore it was my fault QED, but........ he could rectify the error, for a very special price. To put this discussion in context, we had just arrived after a very long drive, the site meeting had already taken 3 hours, my back was killing me, and we still had to go to Alberto's office to choose colour schemes. I really wasn't in the mood for Magalotti, also the things I wanted to say to him, I couldn't say through my lady translator, so I asked him to mail me his ideas and
costs, and he went.
Uff, all this writing about the doors has got me going again, but enough negativity, what about those floors? I know Tuscany is full of them, Umbria too, but these are ours, laid by our boys, and will be walked upon by our kids. Hurrah!
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