Saturday, December 19, 2015

Grinchy much?
Not to be a total grinch, but now a very horrible singer is giving a mega loud, really out of tune, just awful Christmas concert outside my window. Or rather outside where my windows would be if I had windows. What I have are sheets of white plastic with holes in them, and this has been the case for about a week now.

We got one estimate of four thousand euros and one estimate of ten thousand euros to put in the much coveted double glazed windows with the air chambers in them that are absolutely the best thing to have if you live in Lucca, Italy because they keep noise out and they keep in heat or air conditioning. F went to the most respected glass makers in the region and they gave him a price of only 750 euros to put in just the glass and keep the original frames, which is what our landlord prefers anyway. F shmoozed the receptionist of the glass place who told him that their carpenter was overwhelmed with Christmas orders. She batted her eyelashes and told him that a big, strong, handsome guy like himself (should I be worried?) could prepare the windows on his own with a drill and a knife. If he managed to do this, and not need help from the carpenter -- the windows could cost half as much.

Flash forward to F promising me that he could get all six windows ready himself in one weekend. After a frightening Saturday of safety glasses and gloves that had glass all over the kitchen floor, I called in reinforcements. Then my reinforcements called in reinforcements and I ended up with a Romanian guy named Stefano who is going for sainthood right after they work out the bureaucracy involved with Mother Theresa's appointment.

The receptionist promised F that the windows would be at the vetraia on Friday night -- the night before our big Indian Pizza Christmas party. F had to take T and I to the dentist in Prato that night and that's when we got the phone call from Stefano that the windows weren't ready. I called the substitute receptionist, the one F did not bribe with fresh, homemade bread, and who is not in love with him, and I scared the crap out of her. Five minutes later my hysterical pre party mental breakdown, I got the call that the windows had just arrived. I called Stefano and he turned his truck around and went to pick them up. I think they gave him the runaround because he is Romanian, but who knows. . .

Now it is two hours before the party and F has just arrived with four of the six windows. Two of them are not missing and those are for my bedroom. Those can be done next week, two days before Christmas. Or at least that's what F's receptionist told him. . .

I don't want to hear anyone sing Christmas Carols if their name is not (my friend) Vanessa Peters.

1 comment:

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