As I write, our guests, Llewellyn and Lucia, are down at the beach. Jones and I have just had lunch, I my usual muesli, banana and yoghurt, she toast (left over from morning coffee at the Coral) and stewed fruit.We fancy a fire for cheeriness value but are discouraged from lighting one during the day by the mid-teen temperatures.
(By evening we'd changed our minds.) One doesn’t really want to sweat Christmas out. The dogs are curled up in their usual spots following a long gallop down in the valley this morning. At one point they spotted a rabbit, which they chased (fruitlessly) almost to the edge of Benafim. For once, few hunters were around.
It’s just too wet following a week of steady rain. The fields are awash and the dirt roads have mutated into ponds and mudslides.Jones and the 2 Ls headed in the other direction, to look at the river, which is full to overflowing – for the first time this season.
Indeed, the past few days have recorded more than a quarter of the rain that has fallen all year. The sun has done no more than stick its head out for a recce from time to time. Seeing the chain of depressions heading our way from the Atlantic, it has promptly disappeared again. Remarkably, the 10-day forecast has shown ten rain icons, which for us is unprecedented. Ten sun icons are our usual fare.
Some of those depressions have been very depressed indeed. One violent storm hit us in the early hours of the morning, thundering monstrously and spiking lightning all over the sky (which was quite useful as I staggered downstairs to secure a wayward shutter). The electrical supply is inevitably the first victim of such furious squalls. The wind shrieked like the damned, slamming the shutters, clawing at the windows and frightening the wits out of the animals, several of which tried to clamber into bed with us.
The following morning the extent of the damage became apparent. The roads were decorated with fallen branches. Our special tree leaned over, having snapped one of its several stays. For once the Algarve earth is soaked to its core. The tree was buried in an area with limited soil and had no way of resisting the wind.
In Benafim, trees planted along the pavements are lying at awkward angles, some of them pulled over by their fallen supports, which have been completely uprooted. The valley below us is awash. It’s a case of beware what you wish for. At least, the Algarve dams, which have been showing their bottoms, must now be overflowing.
The 2 Ls, having got no further than snowed-in Luton airport on Friday, arrived via a different airline from Birmingham airport on Saturday instead. They landed in comfortable time to take a train to Lisbon where they’d reserved an apartment. 
It was a lovely apartment, with wonderful views of the city, as Jones later testified and Llewellyn's pictures illustrate. She went up to join them early on Sunday morning for two days of tripping around the city. They came back late on Monday night, with all kinds of things to report including a concert and twice being soaked in downpours.
We have received Christmas cards and other greetings from many kind people (and sundry merchants). Thank you to those concerned. We will reply to them all. This is not a calculated scheme to ensure that we send greetings only to those people who send them first to us. It’s just happened that way. And, whatever the case, family and friends have been much in our thoughts. 
MORE LISBON PICTURESSpeaking of which - we are to be joined late on Christmas Day by two couples from the village. We are providing a venue, utensils and the chickens. Llewellyn is doing some of the cooking (he is an accomplished cook!); the rest has been shared out among the visitors.
LISBON TRAMThe Christmas mail included an item conveying the kind regards of the gentleman at the SA consulate in Lisbon who served us so well earlier in the year. His card has since been followed by a note from the post office, informing us that a registered item from the consulate awaits our collection at Benafim. We shall be very pleased if this proves to be our passports, as we assume.
As inclement weather frequently cuts off my link to the internet I have invested in a USB “connect pen” from Vodafone for such emergency situations and for travelling within Portugal. We are still vaguely considering a two-day break to a pousada (courtesy of a voucher which arrived from Honda after we’d purchased the car). But if the rain continues, as it promises to do, I’d much rather be snug at home than kicking my heels in a hotel.
A great barking and yowling downstairs announces the return of the 2 Ls from the beach, just as another squall sweeps in. The dogs never fail to assure us of their concern for our safety by rushing to the front door (or gates) to sound the alarm at the least provocation. A ring on the front door bell sends them into a paroxysm of barking. 
BOBBY & RAYMONDLlewellyn, who has been much impressed with the achievements of a television “dog whisp- erer”, has been whispering to Bobby, who is highly suspic- ious of all visitors; Bobby has not exactly been won over, not to judge by his growls each time his whisperer approaches. We have been joined for three days by Poppy, a small dog belonging to neighbours who are taking a short break in Spain.
Jones arrives with tea (herbal, from her garden) and mince pies to cast an eye over my script. She generally finds ways in which my letter could be improved as well as suggesting inclusions and omissions. I suppose that there’s little point in employing an editor who does no more than agree with the author.
Ermenio has rung the bell, to bring us a Christmas hamper of home-made wine (5 litres,) almonds and lettuces. We are embarrassed by this generosity and wonder how we can return it. Such good neigh- bourliness means more than we can say. While Llewellyn was busy in the kitchen, the rest of us seated ourselves around the dining room table to enjoy these good things.There, we have little more to report. Let me conclude by wishing you the happiest of Christmases in the bosom of your families and friends.
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