glass of wine, scooter lights and order

Am sitting at my desk, lunch is cooking and I have treated myself to a glass of wine. It has been another day of mixed emotions, varied happenings and not getting stuff done. And its only lunch time!

I may sound a little ungrateful for sun and art and the good life, but oh, for a little order or even boredom: no boredom is going a bit too far, just some routine.

Take today for instance. I had plans. I started ok. scootered up to studio , made fakey cappucino and checked emails. ok so far.

Then I got the chance to go out for coffee and ,well I did need to go to the post office. So off I went, telling myself that I never get started painting before 11am anyways , oh and if I dont go out what will I write about and more in that vein.

So after coffee, (I even tried to draw in the cafe) I made another visit to the post office where I waited for my number to come up and then got a bill and no book from America. (been waiting 6 weeks now and the other book arrived 3 weeks ago.)

And now due to somewhat heated interchange in cafe I have to go back to country house and pick up some documents. But it is only 10.30am Maybe I can get started at 11am yet.

So scooter back to country house, admire kitten in porch and then forgetting to leave bill set off for studio. On way note that scooter engine is making a strange clanking noise. console myself with the spurious reasoning that as I am a little anxious I am probably imagining it. So I clank up to Pisticci, forgetting to admire the lovely scenery as I am focused on getting some work done or I will never be able to afford to stay here. No pressure huh! ( and hoping that the clanking doesnt stop along with the motor!)

So back in the studio I turn on the computer and find an episode of Claire in the community and set to work. After half an hour of repainting stuff I did yesterday I realise I have a splitting headache so look for paracetamols. Cant find any so reluctantly leave painting and decide I had better go get some before the shops all close at 1pm for the siesta. On the way out I see that the mechanic who has often helped me out before is in his workshop so decide to ask him if he could fix the lights.( not the clanking, cause after all I could be imagining that, and if he doesnt say anything when he hears the engine then it is obviously all in my head, yes?)

So I ask him , if , when he has time , maybe he could possibly look at my lights? No wonder I cant speak Italian when I try to say things like that! So after making myself understood he kindly tells me to go bring it round now, so forgetting about the paracetamols I go get the scooter.

I stand around after explaining that the lights work but they seem to be crossed. They make a weird pattern on the road and I cant hardly see anything. That was even more difficult to explain and had to resort to hand gestures. Luckily there was a screw missing so that wasn't all in my head! Perhaps I could have put that better!

And then I waited and looked around and his workshop was so ordered and colourful and full of stuff. Like all this potential to make things better .( repair things). Maybe it was the way everything was ordered and contrasted with the curved ceiling and old walls. Maybe the fact that there were old things beside new things, beside machines for making metal wotsits.

And so very much more. It just had real personality.

I said how much I admired it, all the little drawers, and shelves and curious containers, and rows of tools in ascending order. He may well have been a little puzzled by my enthusiasm for his workshop, especially when I said could I go get my camera and take some photos but clutching a bag of tools which he had given me out of a particularly interesting cabinet with shallow sliding drawers, which I think he said had belonged to a chemist, I went off and returned with my camera and one of my newly made prints of Pisticci as a thank you for the tools.

So now my lights are fixed and I can adjust them myself if need be with one of my new screwdrivers. I also know how to lock my scooter wheel. ( I thought the wheel had jammed!)

Slightly embarrassing.

And now I have finished the wine, my lunch has dried out and I want some order in my life, maybe..................