Letter from Espargal: 40 of 2012

BROWN HOUSE, TOP LEFT
If we lived on the south side of Espargal hill we should now be basking in the autumn sunshine we enjoyed there during our morning walk. Regrettably, we don’t. Like most other Espargalians we live on the north side. And up near the summit, where the house is set, the trees are bending sideways under the relentless buffeting of winds that come straight from the Arctic. Or is it Siberia?

For the umpteenth time I breathe a little sigh of gratitude for the wood-burning stove in the centre of the lounge that keeps the house so deliciously warm. The first thing we did on our return from the walk was to renew last night’s fire. The coals from a big log were still glowing. With our heavily insulated walls and roof and double-glazed windows, the house easily retains the warmth. I love it. So do the dogs.

Here I am tending the stove. That’s the silver stack bottom left. What the picture also shows is just how bald I’m getting. (I tried some photographic hair replacement but Picasa wasn't up to it.) This state of affairs brings me no pleasure. I told Fatima, the hairdresser, yesterday, that she ought to be giving me a discount given the reduced labour involved. She replied that I ought to be paying a premium as it took her more time to find the hairs.

LAGOA WINE CO-OP
We were alarmed on our return from a Christmas fair at Lagoa last Saturday to find several of our dogs larking about in the road. They were very pleased with themselves for being so clever. I wasn’t pleased at all. How the hell had they got out? My suspicions fell on my spouse who, in truth, is not always the world’s most security-conscious person.

So I went to check the gates, expecting to find one unlatched. Instead I found them all securely closed - puzzling and concerning. Next day it was the same story. Closer inspection revealed a hole bashed in the fence. Two hours and a sore back later, the hole was patched and the fence reinforced.

The Christmas fair I mentioned was held in the vastness of the old Lagoa wine co-op. The building had already been taken over as an exhibition hall by a group of artists whose work was displayed on a series of room dividers. Stalls had been erected in front of these so that visitors could admire the background art while they hovered over the usual Christmas nick-knacks.

We liked much of the art. Regrettably, most of what we liked ran to four figures while our art purse runs to two or three. In fact, favourite pieces – by disabled artists - cost us barely a tenner each.

We also liked a range of German stainless steel stove/barbecues, cleverly designed to take a variety of grills, woks and pans. As the stoves stand on wheels they can easily be moved about. They also serve as heaters. The downside, as so often with fancy products, was the price tag.

We are not great barbecuers. I make occasional use of a rickety, portable hand-me-down barbecue. There is no ideal site close to the house to erect a decent one. The best places are up around Casa Nada but the results are hardly worth the effort, especially as Jones does our turkey sausages to perfection in the oven.

MAY - ARCHIVE
On Monday May confided to us over lunch that a representative of the security firm that she employs had visited her to say that she needed a new box of electronic tricks and would have to pay several hundred euros up front. When she queried the amount with him, he reduced it on the grounds that she was an old customer. Reluctantly, she had handed over a cheque. It all sounded very fishy. So on Tuesday we drove to the firm’s headquarters to check things out. A member of staff assured me that it was all above board.

Also on Tuesday we went to Salir to follow up a phone call from the electronics shop that was supposed to be ordering us a new satellite receiver (digibox). The assistant said that the €400 euro model we’d ordered was no longer available and that its replacement would cost around €550.

That’s a lot of money for a digibox, even a fancy one, as I pointed out to her. The model concerned was available from Amazon for barely half the price. She shrugged; she wasn’t in a position to negotiate and suggested we talk to the boss.

STUDY
For the moment I think we’ll limp along with the old unit in the study. The hard disk has some corruption, causing intermittent rainbow flashes on recordings; while that’s irritating, it’s not as irritating as coughing up €550. The dodgy digibox brings in the UK radio and TV channels that we listen to and watch most. It is located upstairs. The clever bit is that we can relay the signals through to the bedroom and downstairs using some nifty plug-in sender/receivers.

SENDER ATOP DIGIBOX
At least we could until one of us inadvertently ripped a plug out of the wall. I couldn’t find a replacement receiver online. So I ordered a similar set that I sat down to install one afternoon. Eureka! We no longer have to trek upstairs with supper to watch the night’s TV programmes. Given that it’s now dark well before 18.00, the evenings are long and much lightened by good TV.

On Wednesday I scarified our fields, which had turned green under six inches of flourishing weeds. The wind was freezing. I had to come inside to find an additional jacket. When I muster the courage, I shall attach the plough plates to the scarifier and prepare the ground for the fava (bean) seeds that we sow each year.

Thursday was Olive, shopping and Natasha.

Friday is letter writing, blogging, checking bank accounts and all that stuff. Maybe finishing off that ironing as well. Tonight the Espargal expats gather for dinner at the local for a pre-Christmas do. The buy-more carols are already echoing around the shopping centres. Jesus would have wept.