Let’s start with today - Friday. At breakfast Jones reminded me that I had an appointment with the dentist at 11.00. It was fortunate that she did because I’d forgotten all about it. Although I keep a computer diary of all the events that we need to bear in mind I don’t check it every day.
So we had to keep our morning walk short. We detoured down a new road that the council is carving from a right-of-way that runs through the fields half a mile below us. The work has been keeping a digger and several workers busy for a week or two. A large truck deposits regular loads of gravel for the digger to spread around. Jones doesn’t approve. She can’t see the need for a new road when the old roads suffice.
What the old roads won’t suffice for is the traffic that will be generated by the “rustic village” that is due to rise in the adjacent field. But it's better not to mention that. If Jones disapproves of the road, she positively loathes the idea of model houses sprouting on the fringes of our village. To be honest, I’m not enthused myself.
Idalecio points out that the council workers building the road do not strain themselves. He feels that with a little exertion they could construct several additional metres of road each day. While I didn’t disagree with him, I voiced the opinion that when one gets paid the same daily wage – and not much of it – for building 25 metres of road as for 35 metres, there’s much to be said for not rushing the job.
The dentist’s assistant called us as we were leaving to say that he was running late. So we went first to look for a new pair of walking shoes for Jones. My wife is particular about her walking shoes. She likes ones that she can slip on and off, even if they have laces. My preference is for sturdy shoes. After some browsing around the big outlet store at Almancil she found a pair that looked both rugged and comfortable. She actually fancied a lighter pair but I don’t think they’d have lasted on our stony roads and told her so. In her position I’d have bought both pairs. But she’s too thrifty to approve such wanton spending.
Thence to the dentist for the completion of my umpteenth crown. The guy is very good and I’ve no doubt that he’s worth the money he asks, even if the bills sometimes hurt more than the dentistry. I’ve needed to replace a mouthful of crowns that were installed 15 to 20 years ago. I wondered aloud to the dentist whether the new series would last me until the end of my life. He hoped so. So did I.
We’ve spent much of the week waiting for the rain that’s been tantalising us by not falling. We did get a couple of mills once or twice. The star turn was the appearance of a glorious rainbow, so big that the camera could take in only a third at a time.
On Thursday afternoon Idalecio came over to assist me with some heavy pruning. Just as he arrived, I took a call from an
Irish neighbour who was anxious about the state of health of old Chico and asked if we could pop down the road to have a word with the old man. He and Dina had been missing for several days and our enquiries as to their whereabouts proved fruitless. He was rumoured to be in hospital.
When we went around to their (very basic) cottage, we found him seated on a bed, his pants around his thighs, looking frail and miserable. Dina looked on. The place was in a state of confusion, with stale chunks of bread and pieces of firewood scattered about. We asked him about his health. Chico is very hard to understand at the best of times. He not only mumbles, he does so almost entirely without the use of consonants.
But he confirmed that he’d been to hospital. We couldn’t make out if he’d been admitted. He said they'd be grateful for the cooked food that his English and Irish neighbours were offering to bring. I gathered that the Irish neighbours not only took the pair supper but also spent some time tidying up the cottage. We are doubtful that Chico will be able to take care of Dina much longer.
Idalecio and I then returned to attack the old olive and almond trees on the field that I recently acquired. We pruned the almond trees lightly; they are already in blossom. Idalecio said it was really too late in the season to prune them back severely. But the huge old olive trees were a different proposition. They had received no attention for years. One of them towered over the electricity lines that ran to the house.
Idalecio clambered up the ladder that I held against the trunk and took the chainsaw that I passed up to him. Then he carried out some serious surgery. Great boughs came tumbling down on to the field. Olive trees are renowned for their longevity but they tend to over-extend themselves, which leads to poor harvests. Also, the older boughs are liable both to die off and to rot from the inside. The trees can be cut back severely without harm; they then launch themselves on a new life.
It took us 90 minutes to do the pruning and as long again to carve up the wood into usable lengths. It will have to spend a season drying out in the sun first. As fast as he cut I piled the chunks on the back of the tractor and carted them off to the woodpile. There's still lots left to do. It’s work that Dani might easily do if he wished but Dani seems for the moment to be occupying a parallel world.
After English classes earlier in the week, I dropped into the Social Security office in Loulé in response to a letter I’d received from the department. Happily, there is one really efficient young woman at the office, whom I’ve come to know. She phoned up the Faro headquarters – whence the letter had come – to discern the problem. A brief conversation followed during which my young woman assured her Faro colleague that things were in hand. Whatever the problem was, it was resolved by my writing across the contact that Natasha was entitled to receive unemployment compensation.
Tonight we are going to Idalecio’s little restaurant for supper, along with David and Sarah (who is still a bit fragile after her accident) and two other expat couples.
At Llewellyn’s instigation, I have taken out some tickets in the Euromillions draw. If my next letter should come from a luxury suite in some exotic location, we’ve hit the jackpot.
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