Rolf and Cathy have gone home to Berlin. On their last evening, we sat out on the cobbled patio before taking ourselves to the new Indian restaurant in Loule. We arrived just before a crowd that overwhelmed the staff. Several people walked out after waiting in vain for service. We were lucky to suffer only the loss of Jones's naan order.
Each evening Cathy would arm herself with a hose and join Barbara in watering the garden. I was most grateful as she relieved me of this daily chore. Jones calls this area her secret garden. It's here among the rocks in the shade of carob and almond trees that she nurtures new plants requiring daily refreshment.
By the by, that tree is adorned with holey stones - which abound around here. At last came signs of the promised rains. So often we get forecasts of rain next week that turns to sunshine this week. As with politician's promises, it's in the future that good things lie. For once welcome fat black clouds gathered over Benafim.
And last Sunday summer's drought broke. It was only 16mms but it was a wonderful 16mms, spattering off the carport roof and varnishing the cobbles. From the upper patio, water spurted into waiting barrels below. The stuff is far too precious to waste. What a relief it is to let nature irrigate the garden for a change!
The only downside of the wet weather is the mud that compacts stubbornly in the dogs' paws, along with small stones and you name it. Too often, the darlings dash into the house, leaving a muddy trail across Jones's newly cleaned floors. The only solution is to wash their paws thoroughly first.
The point of this exercise is lost upon the dogs, who are anything but willing partici- pants. Here Jones encourages Mary to come along to the tray filled with warm water. As you see, it's hard work. Unless it smells of food (the love of Mary's life) or rabbits (to be chased frantically), Mary is not interested.
The blog would not be complete without a Jones sunrise. Like the Aztecs and Incas, she is concerned to see the sacred orb begin its daily journey across the skies and like them she makes the requisite sacrifice - in her case, of her sleep. I am more concerned to see the sun go down.
I have followed Rolf's example in taking out a subscription to the Economist, the weekly digital edition of which I now download each Thursday night on to my iPad. As I speak, Jones it typing away on the device at her desk behind me. Rolf had brought his own iPad with him from Germany as well as a laptop for Cathy's benefit.
He would sit out at this table in the sunshine for hours, reading the news or catching up on his downloaded German TV "crimmies". Don't be fooled! This semblance of discipline is achieved by bringing a pocketful of biscuits on to the patio and insisting that the dogs sit before they get them.
Here is Jones checking the blog. She is supposed to warn me of any grammatical or spelling errors - however unlikely - but she tends to question my choice of words or the wisdom of including certain items. On occasion I have been grateful for the doubts she raised.
Friday afternoon - the patio is soaking. I awoke from a most satisfying siesta to find that the clouds I earlier pictured over the mountains had arrived over us and dropped their load. The rain gauge says we've had 10mms. What a wonderful way to end the week!
No comments:
Post a Comment