Forgive me blog followers - if followers there are - for the empty spaces where the blog usually appears. I have been in a bit of a quandary about it. It seemed to me to have become a bit stale and repetitive as it chased the seasons around the year and our animals around the hillside. But Jones says it's a worthwhile project and that I should continue with it.
DRIES'S PIGEONS - DAWN PATROL
And so I shall, if only to put up such glorious pictures as this one. You will have to forgive numerous skies, dawns, clouds, flowers, villagers and especially animals as these surround us. On the news front, it's really the economic crisis that's affecting us all.
It is difficult, even in one’s comfortable hillside retreat, to avoid a daily diet of bad news and new austerity measures. I have received yet another email – my third - from the taxman informing me about the new regime of invoices that's now in force.
Every sale or purchase of goods or services, even among neighbours, has now by law to be invoiced and the invoice submitted in due course to the taxman. One understands the reasons. In these desperate economic times, the government is anxious to clamp down on the flourishing black economy.
Among the measures being introduced is the requirement for all businesses to install expensive new cash registers that communicate directly with the tax authorities. Although demand vastly exceeds the supply, businesses have to prove that they've ordered one.
This news has been received by Celso and Brigitte at Le France Portugal (aka The Coral) as the last straw and, to our great distress, the snackbar faces closure. It would be wonderful if Portugal could discover a great reserve of precious metals or rare earths and lift the gloom that has settled over the country.
For my part, after months of research, I have endeavoured to give the economy a small boost by investing in a new mobile phone. This is not because there was anything wrong with my old mobile phone, as I conceded to Jones. It’s for the sheer beauty, joy and functionality of the thing.
One night we sat down to watch The Bourne Legacy, a sequel (minus Matt Damon) to the hugely successful “Bourne” series. We had to agree with the pundits that a little more economy on the cutting table would have done the film no harm. The recipe was the same but the cook wasn’t up to standard.
DAVID & DAGMAR - FILM FRIENDS
Another evening we joined friends to see Life of Pi – the 3D version. It’s an extraordinary film, faithful to the equally extraordinary book. I well understood why the producers had to prove to a sceptical Indian government that no animals had been harmed in the filming.
As ever, our lives are much taken up with our animals, who drag us out willy nilly twice a day for a romp in the hills. “Sick cat” (one of our four felines), who moved across here from commuting neighbours when they left for the UK, has moved back on their return.
One morning we joined a group of some 50 expats for a visit to a wind-farm on the west coast, organised by the local expats’ association. It was interesting if not enthralling and we came away well briefed. At the same time, we merely stood around the giant towers listening to the farm manager and might well have found the same information online.
Nonetheless, we discovered that the wind-farm, one of several visible in the region, was privately owned. It had erected 6 wind turbines that supplied the national grid. Each was 80 metres high with propeller blades 45 metres in radius and the tower was topped with a 70 ton nacelle carrying the generator.
A giant mobile crane that arrives on half a dozen trucks is required to weld the three tower sections together and to hoist the huge nacelle into place. That’s probably enough statistics. Although there was just the faintest of breezes, the propellers were turning steadily. I love wind farms. Rather wind turbines than smoky air any day.
The next few weeks look busy. We are planning a memorial get-together for Olive when her (very grown up) children arrive down here at the start of Feb. The following day I shall join them at the lawyer’s offices in a bid to untangle the complexities of obtaining probate. The day after that we shall attend a workshop on Portugal’s new tax legislation.
JONES BEARING TREATS
Next Jonesy sets off for a few days in London and I shall inherit her waifs and strays food distribution programme along with sundry other duties – be it only for five days.
This week began as ever with a May luncheon and English lessons. The subject of the latter was Portugal’s new driving licence legislation.
This requires drivers of light vehicles to renew their licences at ages 30, 40, 50 and 60. From age 60, medical check-ups are required as part of the renewal process and the interval decreases from ten years to five. At age 70, a milepost that I can already see looming faintly in the distance, it shrinks again to two years.
Jones and I were pulled over last week at a random police check on vehicle contents and papers. Fortunately our papers are in order. Four sets of up-to-date plastic/paper are required: licence, ID, car ownership and insurance. Equally fortunately, the back windows are darkened and the two dogs on the bag seat (which are supposed to be secured) went unnoticed.
Discovering one afternoon while visiting a neighbour that he had a pile of stone dust, I thought it was time to complete work on the cobbles that the builder had failed to do last year. He insisted that he had to wait for dry weather and I made the mistake of paying him in full.
Having borrowed a small load of the dust, I mixed in half a bag of cement to produce the weak mixture that used to seal the cobbles in place once the stones have been laid and then levelled in a bed of stone dust (which, unlike sand, compacts). We began work under semi-blue skies that rapidly turned grey and damp, finishing the job just in time.
A succession of dull and damp days this week has kept us largely indoors, apart from our morning and afternoon slithers around the hillside. I have to take great care descending the steep muddy paths. At times I have tried to persuade the dogs that conditions really didn’t warrant an outing but they would have none of it.
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