Here's the week, backwards. Friday: We have had rain – lovely, luminous, glorious, glistening manna from heaven, more than 30mm, drumming off the windows and spattering off the tiles. I can’t tell you with what joy we watched it slanting down, ending a four-month drought. Winter’s meant to be our wet season but you wouldn’t have known it. The earth had cracked, our beans were drooping, the wild flowers were thin on the ground and even the weeds were half-hearted.
We took May to lunch after introducing her to a new mobile phone. We chose it for its large keys and the button on the back that sends out a distress message to selected contacts in the event of an emergency. But it’s a recent model that still lacks a user manual, either in Portuguese or in English.
Lunch, as usual, was at Campina, where Cristina runs an efficient operation. When I complained that her tuna salad had dripped on to my jacket, she fetched a cleansing spray and gave me an instant dry-clean, somewhat to the surprise of other diners.
May likes a leisurely lunch; 90 minutes to two hours suits her well. Fifteen minutes is adequate for me. After that, I excuse myself to walk the ever-accompanying dogs and take a refreshing siesta in the car – or go off to do a little banking, leaving Jones to hold the fort.
Thursday: The wind was wicked, making it hard for us either to relax or concentrate. I started and stopped half a dozen jobs without getting anywhere. The dogs were equally unsettled. Nature’s restlessness penetrated our very souls.
Outside, Manuel and Antonio worked hard to finish the last of the cobbled patios. Each cobble had to be trimmed before being tapped into place, guided by a string or length of wood. Antonio brought up reinforcing loads of stone dust and cobbles as Manuel set each stone into place.
Beyond the fence I spent two hours scraping the last of the stone dust into buckets and dumping the contents on the track into the fields. The looming storm otherwise threatened to wash the remains down the drive. Once it’s wet and compacts, the dust is the very devil to clean up.
In the evening black clouds rolled in and rain – wonderful rain – began to fall.
Wednesday: I set about repainting the newly repaired sections of the tractor gate and gate-post, damaged the previous week by the builders while reversing the tractor up the driveway. True to their word, the builders had patched up the gate post as well as getting the gate repaired. “That post won’t take two minutes to fix,” Manuel had assured me when I complained about the consequences of his bad driving. And in fairness it didn’t.
The main advantage of the repair was being able to close the gates and put the dogs back in the pen after their morning walk. The pen was incomparably smarter as a result of the new paving and bordering walls. At the same time, the builders had widened the entrance sufficient to allow the passage of small vehicles. Previously, it had been pretty much limited to the tractor. All in all, we’re very pleased.
We lunched in Almancil with Mike and Lyn, who were on their way home after a holiday based in one of Idalecio’s cottages. There’s a café-restaurant there that has captured the public mood. As well as baking its own products, it serves up inexpensive and delicious hot lunches. Mike and Lyn are fans. So are we. Smokers (we are not) and dog owners (we are) like to eat out on the patio, where one can choose sun or shade according to the weather.
Our temperatures have been creeping steadily upward. Although it’s homely to light a small fire in the evenings, we hardly notice the absence of one. And already the air conditioner is being employed most days in the car. Summer looms large.
Tuesday: The forecast is for rain on Thursday. We can hardly wait. The builders are setting about the last area to be paved. The preparatory work involves building low retaining walls and getting the levels right. Pegs are hammered in and strings tied between them. When they’re not reversing into the gates, they do a really good job.
Monday: I had arranged with Natasha to clean in the afternoon in order to present Jones with a sparkling house that evening. The dogs were locked out. They can reduce the house to chaos in minutes.
En route to the airport I stopped at Staples to return the computer monitor that I’d bought the previous day. My aim had been to hook a larger monitor up to my desktop computer, and I’d found one with built-in speakers. But, like all the new monitors available, it was of a different ratio and I simply couldn’t get a decent image, possibly because my Windows XP computer lacked the new dvi connection. Worse, the speakers were hardly audible, even at full volume. Staples gave me my money back, as promised.
CHEWED DOG BLANKET
Jones got a warm welcome from dogs and me. She looked very smart, as ever. She has the knack. We supped at the Coral on toasted sandwiches. Celso is awaiting Brigitte’s return from France, where she’s undergone surgery, before offering cooked meals once again.
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