When we first arrived, I felt wonderful. My arthritis was in remission and I walked everywhere. Also, at that time, the medical offices were located down the road from the local supermarket. I enjoyed the morning walk (although I didn't quite understand the "system" yet or why I had to go there in person...seemed excessive) Sometimes, after getting my scripts, I would stop at one of the several "bars" for tea. (A "bar" in Italy serves everything...coffee, alcohol, maybe food, maybe desserts)
Each time I made this particular hike, which was once a month, I would stop and admire the house across the street from the medical building. I loved it. It was fenced, had a small garden, also had outer patios and just looked like a lovely house. It appeared that someone lived there, but I couldn't be sure. And then I would put it out of my mind for another month.
Then Covid came and decimated the town. We lost "bars" and restaurants and stores. And then I was able to get my scripts by telephone. Finally.
And then I had gallbladder surgery and my life changed drastically. But, that's another story.
Now, after Covid, and with a new (but in my opinion not very helpful) mayor, the town is experiencing the rehabilitation of buildings. Just about everywhere you look, there is scaffolding, plywood, ladders, huge cranes, trucks with masonry. The town also decided, for some unknown reason, to not only rehab the parking lot (located outside our back doors...down the hill) but to expand it. Why? This town has lost three thousand residents since we got here. So...who's going to park there?
It started with shoving earth around down below. There was the expansion, which resulted in the loss of trees and a lot of greenery. Then, last year, and no one "knows" by whose order or why...supposedly...the area next to our bedroom window was cleared. A beautiful green space, home for many birds was suddenly levelled. We were outraged, but we got no answers or explanations. With that, the bedroom and hence, the entire apartment, became noticeably warmer in the summer. The balcony was exposed to much more sun, scorching some plants and making it difficult to impossible for me to spend time out there. Which wasn't any fun anymore anyway, at least until the construction guys left for the day.
The construction, at long last, was complete. The lot is three (!) times larger than it was. There are lots of lights, but thankfully, they are aiming down and they cast a nice amber glow, so they really don't bother me.
Want to know what does bother me? Fucking festas. They are now holding "festas" in the lot. What does this mean? It means tons of foot traffic past our door and down the passeggiata. It means music, but it is SO loud, that mostly all we hear up here is BOOM BOOM BA BOOM! They don't have a 10pm cutoff here. So, the festa could go on until 2 or 3 or 4 am. There was one last night (Oktoberfest!) which will be repeated tonight and tomorrow. And this one includes strobe and laser lights! Joy! Flashing right into the kitchen, all the way to the entry....all....night...long.
But THAT isn't even why I am writing. I'm writing because there was another result of this parking fucking lot construction. The earth moved.
With all there shoving around of dirt and removal of trees and groundcover, the land is shifting.
****
We had a small crack in the dining room. Once the lot was finished, we had a crater that extends the width of the entire room and into the kitchen and all the way from the ceiling to the floor. It is expanding. Quickly.
Our attorney brought in an architect and specialist. The entire back wall is basically falling off. Slip slidin' away.
It means, in short, we have to get out.
Swell. We have to get out, likely fairly soon. We sincerely hope they..the city, don't force us out before we are ready. We are now house hunting. A chore we never wanted to do again.
Our attorney, a young woman (but trusted by another friend, an older man who lived in the US for 25-30 years) called to say there was a place near Tigre, the supermarket. She thinks "it is perfect" for us.
So, we got up Friday and met her down by the supermarket. It was the longest walk I have taken in the past two years. As we walked, I wondered if it would be possible? Could it be? Well, yes...it is the house I admired years ago and every time I went past. To my disappointment (and because my husband is not the greatest communicator to begin with, but add a language difference...well...) we could not go in. I thought we were going in, but I, of course, misunderstood. He was perfectly clear. My fault, naturally.
We talked about "arrangements"...the place is actually three stories and may be divided up. How is not quite clear yet. We go back tomorrow and then we will be inside and understand exactly what the plan is. And I prepared a list of questions.
I look forward to seeing it. I do not look forward to the walk. I still have not recuperated from yesterday. Some of that is due to the fucking festa. Some of it my sad sore joints. And the fucking festa continues this evening, but I'm hoping I am tired enough to sleep anyway.
This lovely house....this house I've admired for six years. Will I live there?
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