As usual, much of the news in Espargal this week has gone unreported in the international media. For instance, you would not be aware that we heard Dina’s unmistakable shrieks as we were approaching the house after a walk last Sunday. We paused in the hope that the shrieks would go away and Dina with them. But they didn’t. So we continued on home where we found Dina and old Chico seated on a bench on our front patio. Beside Chico rested a 5-litre plastic bottle of fig moonshine. As if to convey its purpose, Dina threw back her head and indicated with her thumb towards her open mouth. Although she lacks the power of speech, she has a way of conveying her thoughts. (The sign of the cross means someone’s sick or dead!)
While Jones served the pair of them with biscuits and apple juice, Chico explained in his usual thick mumble that he wanted to plant beans and peas. In short his fields needed ploughing. He speaks so badly that even the Portuguese can barely understand him. The fact is that I should gladly plough his fields for nothing but Chico is a proud man who trades favours rather than asking them. He continued with a long monologue as they took refreshments. Barely one word in ten was comprehensible to us. We simply nodded at polite intervals.
To show her appreciation of their gift Jones poured herself a drop of fig liquor and took a few sips, sending Dina into fits of laughter, her toothless mouth full of semi-chewed biscuit. Dina is a huge woman with enormous boobs and you really need to see her (or at least the blog) better to appreciate the situation. The niceties of society served, we took the couple 200 metres home in the car – the only way to usher them out – with the dogs relegated unhappily to the rear.The same day I took away the wooden supports that have been securing our fir tree since we planted it 18 months ago. The supports were beginning to choke the trunk as the tree is growing rapidly in spite of being confined to a small terrace. Within hours a strong southerly wind sprang up, testing the tree’s defences. To my alarm I noticed the ground around the tree moving and cracking as the fir heaved in the wind. I fear that the area simply is not deep or big enough to enable the tree to anchor itself properly. We slung a rope around the trunk to secure it while we considered our options. All that’s clear is that the problem will grow with the tree.
Monday morning we called round at the friend for whom I’d secured VW car parts the week before. A mechanic had gone around to install the parts – sections of water hose - only to find that they didn’t fit. The fault was mine. When placing the order I’d omitted to mention that the car was right-hand drive. So back we went to VW in Faro, this time with the old parts, to order identical ones. The spares attendant was patient and helpful. After cleaning the old hoses he managed to find the part numbers stamped on them and promised to have the new hoses available the following day.
Monday evening we went to see Becoming Jane, a fanciful biography of the youth of Jane Austen. It was our kind of film, even if we didn’t have our kind of viewers sitting in front of us. Coming home that night we saw a large stray dog, a beautiful animal, in the road just outside the village. We’d seen it on the verge of the highway earlier in the day, with three women – obviously estrangeiros – trying to entice it into their vehicle. Clearly, they’d failed.
We turned the car around and went back. The dog – looking a bit like a Portuguese mountain dog - was both friendly and ravenous. From the rear of the car I retrieved a substantial packet of dog-biscuit treats, intended for our own animals, and poured the contents on to the road side. The dog could hardly believe his luck. A few moments later English neighbours pulled up. They said they had given the dog some scraps from a restaurant and had continued on home to fetch some water. The dog was as pleased with the drink as it had been with the biscuits. Jonesy wondered whether we should try to take it home. I thought it better to wait to see what daylight brought.
Tuesday morning we took ourselves for a two-hour trek through the hills, waving away the wretched flies that irritated both man and beast. As we settled down to a cuppa afterwards, we heard a cry from Natasha, who was cleaning upstairs. The cause of her distress turned out to be our hairy spider, sitting up on the wall of the study. Natasha simply can’t stand spiders. Jones was all for trying to rescue it (by placing a glass over it) but the insect was so large and nimble that I persuaded her to allow me to suck it up in the vacuum cleaner. Jones immediately retrieved the bag and emptied it outside in the hope of freeing the unfortunate arachnid but of the spider there was no sign. Sorry spider. I had nothing against you. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Jones had a late p.m. appointment with the dentist. After dropping her I continued into Faro to fetch the VW hoses. Natasha came with me. She wanted to buy a book from the Forum Algarve, just over the road. The book, much advertised on TV, cost her a small fortune – a day’s wages, she confessed. It apparently describes all kinds of natural remedies for various upsets and ailments. I hope that she gets her money’s worth.
On Wednesday, we once again saw the stray on the side of the road. We stopped and the dog showed every sign of being pleased to see me again. Or maybe it was the prospect of lunch. I emptied a large can of dog meat on to some paper under a tree. This the dog golloped up in short order. We don’t know what to do about him. I’d like to have him but Ono certainly won’t stand for him. There would be war and Ono would be thrashed. If we call Loule council, they’ll take him to the pound and that will be the end of him. We may be able to entice him into the car and get him to one of the animal sanctuaries.
After lunch I went around to give my regular computer lesson to a neighbour who has just been given a Vista-equipped computer by his family. It is my first encounter with the new Windows platform. Quite impressive! If only it were compatible with my older software programmes, I’d be tempted to install it.
In the evening we took ourselves to the airport to fetch English friends, two couples, who are house-sitting for neighbours in Espargal. One couple will be spending a few days with us at either end of the house-sit.
On Thursday I devoted myself to stabilising our fir tree with stays. (Jones tells me that it's actually a cypress.) I slung pieces of thick rope around trees both north and south of it and then tensioned everything with lengths of strong, plastic-covered wire. The rigging is pretty well invisible. Bits of cloth have been attached to the wire to prevent gardeners from accidentally walking into them. How well the system will work in practice we shall learn next time there’s a strong wind. The last strong wind tore a heavy wooden beam off our pergola and tossed it into the garden. (I have since reinforced the pergola.)
I had meant to spend the afternoon spraying the latest crop of weeds, especially the thorny wild asparagus that is now springing up everywhere. But I had so much difficulty trying to thread the wire stays for the fir tree through a thicket of shrubs and creepers that I attacked those instead. There’s a prickly creeper that goes wild here. It’s tough, invasive and vicious and scoffs at poison. It had climbed into the trees and resisted my efforts to rip it out again. That took up the hour before we had to walk the dogs. English neighbours dropped in for drinks a little later before all, English guests included, went off to supper at the Madeirense on the outskirts of Loule. It serves justly famous kebabs.
At supper one of the neighbours confided that the stray dog has found a home. It apparently wandered up into the garden of an English resident, Penny, and just settled down. Penny was dubious but seems to have bowed to fate. That, if it's true, is the best news of the week.
Friday morning I spent on the roof with a solar panel technician who installed a water pressure reduction device to lower the pressure of our mains water. It seems to have stopped the expansion valve from leaking steadily down the roof. Friday afternoon we took the car into Honda to check out an oil leak.
Honda peered underneath the engine and said not to worry. It seems that a little oil sometimes accumulates in a tray after an oil filter change. Wish that all our problems were so easily solved.
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