Ten rules for life (in Carmine)

A disappointing three degrees at 8:30am after a night of pitter-patter raindrops. I notice that this time last year the apricot was in bloom. This year the buds are huddled under the bedcovers like a 4-year-old after a late night at the piscina.

Congratulations to Franco, by the way - the first narcissi of the year are blooming in his orchard. They're looking a bit wet.

P.S. Lent day 5, nothing embarrassing to report.

Back in the middle of February, Jeanne, over at The Raisin Chronicles, set out her ten rules for life. They made me laugh, I guess because I recognised so many of them to be true from my own experience.

On the Monkey-see Monkey-do principle, I thought it would be interesting to think about the rules of life ... in Carmine.

Here they are...

1. Never buy what you can't carry up the hill, you, yourself, alone, before it a.) rots in the car (in the case of exotic fruit), or b.) becomes obsolete (in the case of satellite dishes, computer equipment, and home entertainment centres).

2. Never invite houseguests between the months of October and April - the toilet seats are too chilly, and the guest room too draughty.

3. Don't ever make friends with Carmine cats. They eat too much, take liberties with the bedding and all you get for your pains is a little pile of something aromatic on the pantry floor.

4. Always say 'yes' to offers of second-hand furniture from your Carmine neighbours. This way, you get new furniture without having to carry it up the hill, and the woodworm colony in your house gets an infusion of new genes.

5. If you're planning a delivery of building materials, always warn your neighbours in advance to shut their windows - helicopter rotors kick up a storm of dust for which you'll never be forgiven.

6. Don't expect house calls from doctors, the police, or DHL. There's nowhere to land the air ambulance, heavy artillery is too awkward to tote up all those steps, and besides, according to DHL, Carmine Superiore doesn't even exist.

7. Don't gossip about your neighbours in the summertime when all the windows are open. Carmine walls have ears.

8. Everybody is the centre of his own universe, and everyone who has a house in Carmine has a story to tell - of romance, of passion, of how they came here, why they stayed, the renovations they screwed up with their own bare hands... Always be ready to listen if you want them to listen to you.

9. Take out the best health insurance you can afford. At some point you're going to need new knees, new hips and a couple of shiny new titanium intervertebral disks. Alternatively, sneak into the church as often as possible and pray to S. Gottardo, whose patronage covers at least problems with legs and might stretch to backs if you drop a large denomination note into the offerte box.

10. Do make sure to schedule a lunchtime aperitivo in the sun by the church at least once a week. That view of the lake is part of the reason you came here, the bubbles will take your mind off your aching back, and no-one will overhear the latest neighbourhood gossip except S. Gottardo and You-Know-Who.