Down...

The oak flooring is down but, it's not finished yet. 

Before we can holler... It's done, Dad!!!... a few additional steps must happen...

the natural protection of oil... oddly, with a hint of oranges in its perfume... has to be brushed on...

...yet, before that grease, the 60 square meters of oak flooring will have to submit to being abused by kind of sanding machine with a special disk to bring-out the veining of the Romanian oak. Yep. Romanian oak. That Eastern country is the World's second largest producer of oak flooring, aged like it should be. Bet you didn't know that!!!

...however, even before all that, we must wait a week... or, two... for the boards to realize they are in a permanently horizontal position. A necessary aspect of their Destiny. 

Now, I can understand why folk put go on & put down cotto tiles. Once down, that's it. Gads.

Done...

Well, the hand-rail was installed this afternoon. Seems the new-yet-old railing looks like it has always been a part of il Poggiolo. How did that happen? 

My only other Comment before signing-off is the railing leaves a lovely set of shadows on the terra-cotta pavement in the late afternoon sun. Gads.

Getting Laid...

The next time you see these views, the oak flooring will have been laid. Gads.

The Cortile Restored...

...and cleaned by the torrential rains of last night. Gads.

A Rainbow...

Feeling near to the Breaking Point... thanks to the two month delay to finishing the Upstairs Apartment/Laundry Room/Plumbing Plan/Etc. & this Pre-wedding Dinner I insisted upon this coming Friday. I called Mr. You 100 times about whether I should buy the super-cheap-made-in-Chine dark green plastic garden chairs OR, fork over more Euros for a model which, costs twice as much, but might last beyond this August. By the way, I am appalled at how Italians behave in mass-market stores with their children. Like, escalators are NOT an amusement ride but, a means of conveyance to another floor. Viewing the whoops & hollers & stunts of the masses with their bambini, escalators should be chutes to an alternative Time/Space Continuum, far, far, far away from me!!!... I dove into a bag of San Carlo potato chips. They weren't salty enough.... darn it. Come to think of it, the chips weren't even very potato-y. Must Search & Find that Italian brand of potato chips in the clear plastic bag. They are a masterpiece of salt, fat AND potato.... not forgetting the benefits to one's Spirit/Anima/Perspective.  Sadly, M & Ms are NOT AVAILABLE in Italy!!!

Then, The Dog, detecting the end to the sorrily weak afternoon rains, made noises that he really, really, really needed to go o-u-t. And, lo' & behold, hanging over Il Poggiolo was a thread of a rainbow. Is this a sign? A positive sign that All will be A-OK? Gads.

The Florida Door...

Here is an early morning shot of our Florida Door to the Terrace. Lovely, isn't it? 

I doubt the door would appear better at any other time of the day. Ugly is ugly, you know. 

Cannot figure out why Our Wonderful Wood-worker feels horizonatal window panes... in threes... are the thing to do. He pulled the same trick on the window to Mr. You's Bathroom window in The Casetta. Naturally, the Florida Door WILL BE CHANGED!!! I wanted glass down to the floor in two vertical columns. Is that so hard? And, who cares that the panes might be too narrow/small/other? I am awaiting Comment & Feedback from Mr. You on this topic. So far, he has mentioned water infiltration. I don't think so. Ugly is ugly. STOP.

In the meantime... here are also two additional early morning shots of the Terrace and its railing... senza corrimano... or, handrail. I am very pleased with the result. I WAS guilty of a couple of dramatic hissy fits with Mr. You about its purchase & subsequent restoration. However, since I AM THE PAYMASTER, I believe I am entitled to them. Renovation is so stressful... and dramatic!!! Gads.

It's Attached...

The deal was... I need this railing up by the 22nd of July. The 20-something Welder-dude, who seems to have patterned his personal aesthetics on those ultra-tall creatures...???... men... ???... beings... ???... from the movie Avatar. Curious about the weird 3-D Mohawk he sports, furry on top, closely shaved on the sides, I hazarded the obvious question. And, you know what? I was right. The Welder-dude dug the movie and being 6 feet 6, with blues eyes, he was nearly there. All it took was an electric razor. Anyway, I periodically called the Welder-dude to remind him of the Impending Date. He always seemed surprised to hear from me. Nor did he seemed much bothered by Time. I took this to be a bad sign, adding to my general nervousness from so many sectors. I prayed.

Well, prayer worked!!! The Welder-dude called me last Friday, 2 minutes before backing his truck across the Medieval bridge and right up to my ramp leading up to il Poggiolo, to tell me he was going to instal the railing. I IMMEDIATELY called Mr. You with the news. I suddenly received a litany of Commands & Orders regarding its imminent installation. I needed paper & pen handy, however, I was standing in the bathroom stark-naked after a shower. I thought it was time to smell decent over the odor of heavily fertilized potting soil. I said Yes to everything and then, hung up. 

Dressed & perfumed, I arrived on the Terrace to see Welder-dude & assistant... who happens to be the Welder-dude's boss though considerably shorter of physical stature... measuring the railings height, done without the wooden stained hand-rail. The Welder-dude said he didn't like my idea of a small iron frame around the rail at the point it abuts the stuccoed pylon. Fine. I have to go tomorrow to see his idea. In light of the Time remaining, it is Highly Probable that I'll go with the -dude's idea. Gads.