Letter from Espargal: 10 August 2013

We had a policy when we ran the Quinta (and really had to work quite hard) of trying to take a day off each week. In view of our recent endeavours, Jones thought that we might reinstate this policy, for a few weeks at least. And since that was fine by me, we took Wednesday off.

Our first stop on any such outings is always the Barclays pastelaria in Loule, so-called (by us) because it's just around the corner from Barclays Bank. This outlet stocks the best cakes in town, always freshly baked and often still warm from the oven.

Its merits are well known and it's much frequented, not only by Joe Public, but also by the helicopter crew from the local pad and the emergency ambulance services, whose blue-light patrol cars wait in readiness outside. We have only to nod to the staff to receive our standard order, a shared rice-cake and two coffees.

Next we dropped a boot-load of dog biscuits off with Marisa, the woman who runs rescue kennels on the heights of Goldra, overlooking Loule. Goldra's an interesting place, better known for its vistas and villas than the two adjacent kennels near the summit. What the wealthy folk who buy there in summer subsequently discover is that the heights are often encased in fog in winter.

Marisa, as I was trying to say, is always grateful for such donations. Her enterprise lives by her efforts and public goodwill - reminiscent of the Carmelite nuns in Rivonia who depended at least as much on the potatoes that dad used to drop off after Sunday mass as divine providence. I recall once having a conversation (through an iron grill) with the mother superior. She promised to remember us in their prayers but there's no easy way of telling what those prayerful remembrances amount to or how much credit they've won me in Heaven.

For lunch we returned to the superb Garden Cafe in the Natura Garden Centre near Almancil, a sure venue for our family gathering next month.

Most unusually, the waitress looked blank when I addressed her in Portuguese, confessing that she was German and not familiar with the language - presumably a student earning her holiday keep.

Also this week, while Jones continued to shape her garden, I followed the example of the local farmers and began taking in our carobs. The semi-official start of the carob-collection season is the feast of the Assumption, August 15. But the rate at which the beans mature varies from one tree to another. Some pods are still partly green. Others have long since turned black and started dropping, especially in the wind.

At this time of year, however, the majority still cling doggedly to the branches and take a great deal of whacking to be persuaded down. Come September, they will start descending of their own volition. Meanwhile, the novelty of detaching them with a long supple stick wears off as fast as one's arm muscles weary of the task. So I've set myself modest targets.

Slavic has spent most of the week working on the Dutch ladies' project and they expressed their great satisfaction with his efforts when we dropped by. Friday he returned here to continue his path-building efforts. We shall probably be sharing his services for a while.

Monday, as ever, was May day. She likes to visit her bank once a month, staggering in on Jones's arm to withdraw cash. It's a small branch with a single desk to serve clients depositing or withdrawing funds. The cashier is a hugely helpful fellow who's happy to fill in May's cheques and hand over whatever combination of notes she requires. May shows her appreciation each Christmas with some fine bottles of wine.

Tuesday Sergio came to fit the aluminium-framed fly-screens that we ordered for Casa Nada. Some years ago he'd installed windows front and rear but leaving these open tended to invite both insects and animals inside. He had to plane the edges of the frames slightly to fit them in the uneven openings. A generous squidge of silicone all round finished the job - and very smart it looks to.

For the past fortnight, Squinty - one or our two black cats - has been limping, unwilling to put his right front paw down. He will allow Barbara to feel it - and she can't detect any sign of injury. Suddenly, our second black cat, Braveheart, has started limping in identical fashion. If limps were catching, Braveheart has caught one. We're puzzled.

WHERE YOU SEE THE WORDS "JUST HERE"

Let me finish on a bright note. As I was hauling buckets of mulched branches through to the garden one afternoon, I caught sight of a small, gleaming halo of light, lying just off a new path we'd been working on. Catching my breath, I went to take a closer look. And there it was, the gold bangle that Barbara lost months ago and which we'd searched for high and low.

It was lying at the edge of a flower bed, between the path and the thick layer of mulch that I'd been laying down. We must have passed within inches of it dozens of times. I took Jones a celebratory early baggy - and had one myself. She can only think that it came off when she pulled off a glove. It's slightly larger than two similar bangles that she wears constantly. And this coming week I shall have it reduced slightly. It's a very special bangle and one we'd not want to lose again.