As I write this there is a vicious storm looming. The lighting is striking close by, no more than a couple of klicks away, and set we've not had more than a drop or two of rain so far. Enough to give the air that deliciously strong scent of earth, dust, and iron, like blood in your mouth. But on the whole mustn't grumble, we're had a couple of fantastic days, beautiful weather, stunning sunsets.

We cooked for our guests last night. A full house - everyone staying here came to eat, and a merry old time they all had. We started the meal with a bottle of Prosecco out on the Terracotta Terrace watching a big red disk set through the thinnest of mists behind the Apennines. It was a bit chilly, but no one seemed to mind. People will put up with a lot for a good sunset or a spectacular sunrise.

We set wine enough for half a bottle a head, but we ended up supplying several refills, so there was much chatting, much laughing, and everyone seemed to get on really well. The food was great, much better than my over-cooked pork from last week. V has got into her stride really quickly this year, and the she did an Ossobuco that would be hard to beat anywhere, I kid you not. We had the left-overs this evening, and I swear it was even better than it was last night, as is often the way.

We sat and had a drink with our guests afterwards, before heading off to bed and leaving them to finish a bottle of decent Vin Santo.

The end is neigh

Yikes. The storm has now kicked off in fine pyrotechnic and apocalyptic style. That last crash shook every window in the house. Everyone else has gone to bed (it is past 11, after all) but how they're managing to sleep through all if this is anyone's guess.

Every time there's a big storm like this, we worry. Is a roof leaking somewhere, are we going to find an apartment flooded, is some poor unsuspecting guest going to get dripped on in their bed?
Of course, apart from the off drop or there, guests haven't had to cope with anything serious yet, thank goodness. But we have had bad leaks, and I guess, with a place as old as this, with some of the ferocious storms we get (like this one...it really is a hum-dinger), there is always the risk the someone may be going home with the kind of Tuscan adventure story they weren't expecting.

So we worry. We cross our fingers (metaphorically speaking), do a bit of praying (usually metaphorically, though not necessarily), and we hope for the best.

And right on cue, we get a power cut. The wind is howling out there, and it probably did something extreme to the power lines. I lost 15 minutes of pointless drivel, which you won't miss either, I promise you, and I headed out in the rain with a head-torch so see if there was anything I could do. As it happens, the problem was up the line somewhere and the power came back on of its own accord before I could get too wet. [By the way, don't let all this talk of storms put you off coming to Tuscany in April or May - most of the time it's lovely, honestly! Wait till you see some of my pictures!]

And what of our guests?

Well, as I promised some time ago, in the aim of being non-specific when it comes to guests, so as to avoid any direct finger pointing and embarrassment, especially to those staying here at the moment, I can't really talk about our current guests...except to say that they are all lovely. We had a group of young ladies leave today who got extremely attached to Miao and the dogs, and we were sorry to see them go to. Have fun ladies.

But it does mean that maybe I can recount an embarrassing story or two for last year, does it not? I mean, as long as I'm not naming names?

Furry friends

Well, let me tell you a story about a very resourceful critter. Small. Furry. Pink pointy nose. Whiskers. Not a small cat. Anyway, one of our guests came knocking on our door one afternoon to say someone or something had been at their fruit. Of course, we're living out in the country, trespassing on Nature's patch, so it's not surprising we get the occasional unwelcome visitor. We've had birds, mice, stray cats, lost dogs, even the occasional horse (another time, maybe). So we try to keep calm, and deal with the matter in a relaxed way. So out came the trap, grizzly metal contraction designed to dice and slice with minimal collateral mess. Actually, I jest. It's a steel trap much like the one used by the children-catcher in Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang. [Though quite why I should have though of that right now is beyond me. I must be losing the plot. Maybe I'd better go to bed and finish this tomorrow? Good idea.]

I need to finish these blogs when I can, because it's now 4 days later and I've lost my train of thought. And I'm really not totally convinced I should be airing our furry visitor stores in public! Should I?

I'll have a think...but for now. I'll stop here.