Letter from Espargal: 23 June 2013

This week I have declined a number of invitations. As I explained to two friends, I made a mistake some years ago of being persuaded to register with LinkedIn – and that these days I was Linked Out.

But that’s not all I declined. For the umpteenth time I have refused to look at Jenna’s intimate pictures on the internet, or to take a Newsweek digital subscription (I prefer The Economist) or to claim my KFC gift card

AFTER THE WALK

or to gamble at the online casino or to look at the seduction video that women don't want you to see or to accept a cheap cash loan or to buy a genuine replica watch or to register for a degree or to undergo a limited trial for fuller, firmer breasts or even to discover the eternal truth with the Baltimore branch of the church of Israel.

VIEW TO THE COAST

That’s quite a lot of declining for one week. Apart from all the declining, on Monday, as ever, we took May to lunch and shopping. May was a bit vague. She’d been hitting the sleeping pills. She’s a slow eater and quite talkative. It’s a good thing that Jones is patient with her.

After finishing my own meal, I take a 30 minute nap in the car before returning to the restaurant for coffee.

As we set off home, the veterinary surgery called to ask whether Carlos, the vet, could pop out the same afternoon to vaccinate the dogs. Yes, we said, he could, any time after four. I should explain that we thought it more sensible this year to ask Carlos to come to us instead of our commuting into Loule with the hounds, which requires at least two trips. They know his surgery and hate entering it, plus they often disapprove of other dogs they encounter there.

So Carlos came and vaccinated them while they growled their suspicions and I tried to distract them with the most delectable chewies. And in the fuss we forgot to take any pictures. In fact, there’s only the usual pictures of the sky and the garden and the household. Sorry!

GOTTA BE CAREFUL WHO YOU KISS IN THE MORNING!

Also on Monday afternoon my desktop computer stopped communicating with the router. It didn’t say why; it just refused to link up. And since my phone and laptop were still talking to the router perfectly amicably, the fault had to lie with the computer.
As it happened, Rui (the computer technician) was due to sort out a problem with Marie’s new computer the next day. I persuaded him to drop in here as well, which he did.

Having run the gauntlet of the dogs, he spent 45 minutes trying to resolve the problem – and failed. This is unusual. Rui plays a keyboard like a concert pianist. So he took the computer back to the shop with him and I resorted to using the laptop.

On Wednesday Natasha’s builder partner, Slavic, arrived at 08.30. Now that his usual boss no longer requires his services more than two or three days a week, Slavic fills in where-ever he can.

As arranged, I introduced him to neighbours, Sarah and David. They’re putting up a little summer-house and were grateful for his assistance. Slavic is an excellent builder. I’ve work for him myself when he’s free.

Natasha arrived separately later. Having seen her in, we drove to Alte where I had a massage appointment with Jodi the physio. The official reason for this treatment was my ever irascible back. To be honest, it’s hard to know how much Jodi’s massages improve my back, but they certainly improve the rest of me.

After coffee and a cake at the usual snack-bar in Loule, we drove around to settle the vet’s eye-watering bill and then continued to Almancil to see our lawyer. We needed him to notarise a document in English, a task too far for the otherwise helpful parish president.

Algarve lawyers do a great deal of business in English and are generally fluent in it – as well as one or two other European languages.

On Thursday I received two letters. One was from Terry Ferrett for me to translate and pass along to a Portuguese fellow who had occupied the ward with him in Faro hospital. Although the two could barely communicate, Terry’s companion had proved as amicable as any stranger could be – and Terry was grateful for his company.

Terry has meanwhile seen his own doctor in the UK and had his medication adjusted, a change that will hopefully prevent a similar crisis.

The other letter was from my HSBC banker, informing me that it would cost more than the face value of the US$27 dollar cheque (I had sent him) to bank it in our account – and suggesting that I might want to reconsider its future. I was grateful. I hope he hasn’t charged me for the letter.

Also in the post was a new remote control for our German sat-box, sent by Cathy in Germany to replace one that has given up the ghost.

They occasionally tumble from the railings beside the upstairs armchair and it does them no good.

Rui returned with the computer, which had worked perfectly well in the shop and which he finally persuaded to talk to my router. That was a relief. On the other hand, if it had remained mute, I might have had a case for upgrading from the old XP to a Windows 7 or 8 model - one of these days, maybe!

Jones has been doing some serious gardening while I do the daily watering on her behalf. The garden is looking good as you may see for yourself. The park, on the other hand, is just a huge seed patch and it badly needs strimming, a job my procrastinating back has been postponing. (Jones would tell you that it postpones a great many jobs). The long-haired dogs come back into the house full of burs, the worst of which have to be cut out.

IT LOOKED MUCH WORSE THAN THIS TWO DAYS AGO

The ticks are equally troublesome. We take a couple off us and the dogs each day. One got me under the arm early in the week and I watched the resulting itchy pink swelling nervously lest the tick was infected. It seems not.

BEES CLUSTERING ON THE SURFACE OF SARAH'S POOL

One afternoon we saw a mongoose streak across the road in front of us, only the second time in years that we have spotted one. Like the occasional fox, they are as shy as they are fast.

They are also very fond of chicken and more or less cleaned out Idalecio’s coop one year, scaling the fence effortlessly as he witnessed himself.

I am reading Robert Peston’s How Do We Fix This Mess, an analysis of how the financial world came to find itself in its present state. It’s very good, if not for the faint hearted. I’m deep into how we landed in the mess. I’ve yet to reach the bit on how we fix it.

On the TV front we have spent four fascinating hours watching Heathrow airport in operation, everything from the top of the control tower to resurfacing the runways overnight - utterly fascinating viewing.

As a kid it was always my intention to become a pilot - and I'm still as happy as Larry watching planes come and go at Faro airport.