Letter from Espargal: 20 March 2015

TOIL AND TROUBLE

It is the orphans once again that have had us by the emotional short and curlies this week.

The roller coaster ride began on Sunday when we released the little beasts from the pen for their morning run-around before taking ourselves up the road to brunch.

It was a lovely sunny day, ideal for neighbourly conversations under the leafy bougainvillea that shades the tables on the Hamburgo's front patio.

After a help-please visit to the dog sanctuary in the heights of Goldra and a reflective baggy at Funchais, we came home mid afternoon to find that only Sparky had returned. She was vociferous in her desolation as she waited companionless outside the pen.

Vitor and family, who'd come up to visit the orphans, were disappointed. For some time they hadn't seen anything of the dogs although the trio had been frequent visitors to his back fence where they entertained his little boy.

Dusk and then nightfall brought no sign of the missing pair. Every so often, as Sparky's barks changed key, we'd make fruitless checks on the gate. Sparky continued to chorus us with her dismay as we retired to bed.

It was hard to sleep. Every hour one or other of us would rise. It was 02.00 when Jones returned from such an outing to inform me that Mello was back. Of Paleface, there was still no sign.

On Monday, before setting out to entertain May, we informed neighbours of his absence and asked them to keep an eye out. May had slept awkwardly, straining a muscle in her neck. A good lunch cheered her up.

My English class discussed the predicament of Algarve villagers whose backyard had been taken over by a huge raspberry and strawberry-growing enterprise; vast greenhouses, pollution and monstrous consumption of groundwater were making their lives miserable.

Monday evening brought no sign of Paleface. Jones asked me whether I thought that he might ever return. I replied honestly that there was no way of knowing.

I agreed with her that if he did return, he should be snipped asap. We suspect that his absence was probably a romantic interlude.

The problem is that none of the orphans will permit us to fondle or handle them. We managed to get collars on two of them while they were being spayed but these they promptly ripped off again - don't ask me how.

On Tuesday we woke to rain - welcome rain.

It's a month since any fell and two months since we had decent downpours.

The weather picture looks much wetter this next week or two. Jones expressed her relief. No doubt her beans are doing the same.

Mid-morning Paleface came home.

During one of her checks Jones found him sitting famished at the gate.

He didn't tell us where he went or what he'd been up to.

He simply tucked into a meaty bone before being lured back into the pen to rejoin his companions. He seemed to be ready for a good rest.

When I heard on lunchtime news that three British judges had been dismissed for watching porn on their office computers, I carefully checked my watch to ensure that April 1st had not arrived early. It hadn't.

As reports made clear, the judges concerned had broken no laws by spending their time ogling sexual high jinks instead of reflecting on their cases. They had merely displayed some very bad judgment. Possibly they had fallen victim to some of the many invitations that I get on gmail each day to meet interesting girls for a little fun.

Barbara spent much of the day preparing a large pot of lemon marmalade from a recipe that I printed out for her. It took a lot of preparation - much cutting, boiling, cooling and tasting.

At times she thought it too runny and at times too stiff. Whatever the case, the final results are delicious.

I might add that while our lemon trees are bearing moderately, those of neighbours are groaning under their load, a burden that we have been pleased to relieve.

Wednesday dawned bright and beautiful. We went for a long walk. The tracks were muddy, discomforting the dogs. They kept on pausing to try to dig the mud of their pads.

We kept the more adventurous dogs on leads as the soil showed fresh evidence of the passage of wild boar, encounters with which are bad news.

I should add that in all our wanderings we have never come across them, probably because they are diurnal and we are not. But friends of ours had a nasty encounter while walking dogs.

My Pebble smart-watch has given up the ghost. I greatly regret this as I liked the watch and found it really useful, especially in the car. Some weeks ago it went on strike, displaying a code that other Pebble users have found only too familiar, to judge by complaints online.

In spite of prompt and detailed assistance from the company's support staff, all my attempts to revive it have come to nothing. As the watch was out of guarantee there is nothing further to be done. That's apart, perhaps, from taking a keen interest in the latest generation of smart-watches.

As you may see, I am blogging on my knees. My back continues to play silly buggers and sitting provokes the sciatica that has plagued me for the past few weeks.

Jones feels that it is simply the inevitable price of age and misfortune, to be borne as best able.

I wait to see whether nature and medication will serve to improve matters.

Thursday the rain started falling just as we were about to embark on our walk.

So we trooped back inside the house, lit a fire and fed the dogs, which then settled themselves down on the chairs.

We are getting towards the end of our three tons of winter firewood, a mixture of oaks and other hard woods.

Each time I light a fire I reflect how lucky we are to enjoy such luxury and wonder how many more generations will be able to afford to do so.

It takes so much longer to grow a tree than to cut it down.

At the moment three hundred and fifty euros buys enough firewood to see us through the winter - far cheaper than gas or electricity and ever so much nicer.

THE SUN, NOT THE MOON

On Wednesday and Thursday evenings we watched a TV build-up to Friday's eclipse, the last apparently in these parts for 11 years. My wife wondered aloud whether we would see another.

Friday dawned partly cloudy with the promise of showers, like much of the rest of the week. Jones, who was poised with the camera at the window, didn't have much luck.

But when we went outside to feed the pups, the sun broke briefly through and I managed to snatch a couple of pictures.