Letter from Espargal: 8 of 2011

I have the merest trifles and banalities to relate which, in the light of events in other parts of the world, may be considered a blessing. And should you find the story awash with animals, well so are our lives.

PHOTO BY ANITA

On Monday we took my visiting niece, Anita, to lunch before putting her on the train to Lisbon and wishing her well with her course. She is spending the week learning a new computer language. In my English class we discussed the invitations to Kate and William’s forthcoming wedding. (Like Fergie, we didn’t get one.) This was a bit awkward as the “Senior University’s” sole photocopier had broken down and we had to work from a single sheet of paper.

On Tuesday we mingled around or something. Oh, I remember, we went to see The King’s Speech. I thought the film outstanding and well worth the plaudits it’s earned. Most remarkable was its ability to grip the viewer without a single action shot to sustain it. It was, literally, all talk. We have since seen a documentary on the difficulties that the real George VI faced in public speaking and how Lionel Logue assisted him to overcome them. The likeness between the actors and the real characters was striking.

While in Faro I dropped into the PT office to ask what progress was being made with the broadband internet connection for which I had been waiting for nearly a week. After making enquiries, an assistant said that a technician would be calling at the house to set it up. But she couldn’t say when.

On Wednesday, as we were walking in the valley before fetching Natasha from the bus, Mary crashed into Jones’s shin. The collision was clearly painful for Jones whose toes are still recovering from the falling plank episode. She hardly knew which leg to limp with, she confided. Fortunately, her shin improved rapidly. Her toes remain troublesome. She insists they’re okay as long as she doesn’t have to bend them. I do not find this a very assuring kind of assurance.

SIESTA

Wednesday afternoon, Sergio the aluminium man called to ask if we were in and could he come around to fix the sliding doors. We were, said I, and he could. He’d already visited once to establish why the sliding doors didn’t slide or, at least, didn’t want to. (It’s because the metal axles inside the little plastic runners tend to rust up, especially if the doors are exposed to the rain, as ours are.)

Sergio either replaced or oiled all the runners, for which we were grateful. It’s such a pleasure to open or close a door without having to fight it. He also took the measurements for the mini-bathroom door that we’re going to need up in Casa Nada. I thought the door should have frosted glass but Jones wanted it with a full-length outside mirror. Thus will it be.

Fintan came around that evening with some orchids for Jonesy and a bag of lemons. What was the occasion, I asked him. There was no particular reason for these gifts, he replied, except that we were nice neighbours. We were touched.

On Thursday Horacio arrived with two guys from the electricity department to check out our voltage, which I had reported as it fluctuates alarmingly. They changed the phase and said it should help. (It has.) The problem arises from our being at the end of the line and too far for comfort from the transformer.

Thursday afternoon, as I was returning through the village on the tractor, one of the locals stopped me. There were two dogs that belonged to a neighbour being treated in hospital, she explained, and she thought that I should have them. I explained that we already had six dogs plus a stray to feed, to say nothing of four cats - and had barred the gate to further animals. I suggested that she might do better trying some other estrangeiro. Several listeners found this conversation highly amusing.

Olly & Marie popped around with their daughter, Debbie, to say hello and admire the pups. The pair of them clambered all over her, delighted to be admired. While out walking, we came across a dead rabbit that Mary badly wanted to bring home with her. To get it out of the reach of the dogs, I hoisted it up into a tree. Since then Mary has inspected the tree each time we pass it.

WHERE'S THAT RABBIT?

We have taken her and her brother down to the vet for their second jab. What a palava that was! Russ wanted to murder the surgery cat. And Mary was sick in the car on the way back – again!

Thursday evening I received an SMS from my SAPO internet provider to say that my broadband connection was active. This was the news I had been waiting for. There followed several hours of plugging and unplugging every cord and device I could find – to no avail. A helpline technician led me through a dozen conceivable problems before concluding that there was a fault on the SAPO side which, he assured me, would be corrected as soon as possible.

ASPHODELS IN THE PARK

Friday afternoon, while out walking, I got a call from Portugal Telecom to say that the system should be working; when I got home I phoned them back to say it wasn’t. Neither is it yet. The saga continues. Irritating as I find it, it’s infinitely preferable to revolutions or earthquakes.

Saturday we went to fetch the scarf that Jones left at the restaurant where we supped with Fintan and family the previous evening. We also bought some varnish that I spent much of the rest of the day applying to the floor of the Bijou Ensuite. The results are pleasing.

Saturday night we went to a concert to mark the reopening of the Loule Cine-Theatre. Mendelsohn’s violin concerto was a treat. I cannot say the same for the new seats – and if the Americans had played the final piece, a sinfionetta by Fernando Lopes-Graça, to their prisoners instead of waterboarding them, they would instantly have elicited the information they were seeking.