Up and out at six , our pre-summer walk time. It was hot rather than warm this morning so we may have to switch onto the five o'clock slot before too long. One of the most difficult things for a northerner is getting used to Italian time - everything here opens early and then absolutely everything shuts down between one and four ( and sometimes five ) in the afternoon. Once you get used to having a catch-up sleep in the afternoon it's fine but to a Brit or American it somehow feels rather decadent to be dozing during the prime daylight hours.
The boyz have got a new toy. It is a horrible day-glo orange starfish that doubles up as a frisbee. Most importantly, it has a squeaker that has survived more than five minutes of sheepdog rough and tumble. Wilf ,who for the first five years of his life was the strong quiet type, has learnt a full repertoire of noises from his infrequent stays in the kennels outside Asissi. Whenever the starfish comes out he becomes turbocharged, he bounces up and down on the spot,makes high pitched squeals of transcendent delight and reverts to his preferred style of going through things rather than round them.
There were seventeen workmen here yesterday - what they were all doing is one of those mysteries of Italian life. We certainly don't employ more than seven of them. The boyz were certain that all these visitors had come to see them, so they were in dog heaven. By nine o'clock last night they had passed into that canine tired but exhausted stage. We found them upstairs in the bedroom in a deep ,deep sleep and neither moved a muscle until we got up at five thirty.