The week begins with the arrival of my Saturday morning workers. The pair used to labour the whole day but I reduced this over the summer to 5 hours in view of the heat. And the workers decided they liked it that way. So that's how it's stayed.
COMPLETING WALL REPAIRS FROM THE TRACTOR BOX
We had three tasks in mind: to pick up the rocks the digger had scattered about, to complete the previous week's wall repairs and to continue with the new boundary wall. We made good progress. Strange how five hours just melts away when there are tasks in hand.
On Sunday lunched at the Hamburgo with a couple whose acquaintance we had made at a dinner in memory of a deceased friend. We took an immediate liking to them, a retired UK accountant who had spent time in Africa and his Luxembourg wife. The couple has bought a house in the Algarve with a view to wintering in the sunshine.
Such are our circumstances and inclinations that we rarely meet new people socially. The occasion felt vaguely like embarking on a date. In the event the meal was pleasantly relaxed and we look forward to meeting the couple again.
Monday brought the last English lesson of the year, one that concentrated on projects to dredge the lower Guadiana River separating Spain and Portugal, with a view to permitting larger boats to use it, hopefully boats carrying lots of cash-rich tourists.
DEATH'S HEAD HAWK MOTH CATERPILLAR
Of more interest I found the endeavours of the Left Bloc, now part of Portugal's socialist government, to abolish the hugely unpopular tolls on Portuguese motorways. According to the protagonist, factors that promote business and tourism would more than compensate the authorities for the losses from the tolls - a sort of virtuous circle effect. I have to confess my doubts. Nonetheless, the abolition would be cheered to the rafters by Portuguese motorists, at least until the road surface began to disintegrate for lack of maintenance.
Tuesday we woke to the crackle of gunfire as the hunters celebrated the holiday feast of the Immaculate Conception by slaughtering the wild life in the valley. When Jonesy wondered why this feast was not celebrated nine months before Christmas, I pointed out (with ex-monkish authority) that it marked the "original-sin-free" conception not of the baby Jesus, but of his mother - a common misunderstanding. Accordingly, in the church calendar the feast of Mary's nativity is celebrated nine months later on 8 September. Such Marian feasts were among the highlights of our year when I was a novice in the Marist Brothers - the Brothers of Mary - in the early 60s.
RECIPE BOOK REVISED BY MELLO
The dogma of the Immaculate Conception was declared in 1854 by Pope Pius IX (a fact I had to check on Wikipedia). Notably, it is also the dogma which many years ago started to shake me free of my faith. Original sin simply stopped making sense - and the arch of belief slowly collapsed with the keystone.
Tuesday was also the day when two of the pups failed to return from the morning walk. In vain did we call, whistle and bang their breakfast plates together to summon them home. Jones fretted greatly over their absence; she always does although she wishes she could do otherwise.
PALLY
The cause of their abscondence became clear an hour later when the pair returned, Pally clutching a much-chewed rabbit and Sparky, at his heels, eager to devour what remained of it. Time was when we ran into a rabbit or two most days while out walking. Now the great majority have been wiped out by a pestilence and we might see one a month.
PUPS UPGRADED TO BIZ CLASS
As a student and teacher (of sorts) of English, I have long been uncomfortable with the (now everyday) use of "they" and "their" in the singular as gender-free pronouns, as in:
"There is someone at the door; please see what "they" want."
In my bones I feel that the singular "someone" jars with the plural "they" and never the twain should meet. This is a mild example. Much worse are such media (stiff whisky-provoking) horrors as:
"The child has done their homework themselves."
So it was with some interest that I read (http://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-34901704) the BBC online magazine article entitled:
Beyond 'he' and 'she': The rise of non-binary pronouns
In particular I was astounded by the lengths that some US universities are going to in offering students a choice of pronouns (often putative - such as "ze") with which they feel personally most comfortable. (E.g. Ze - rather than "he" or "she" - was not present!)
Students can now opt for a gender of preference or a temporary gender or to be gender free. Life was so much simpler when boys ran around in short pants and scuffed shoes while girls wore dresses and pink ribbons in their hair and everyone knew who was what.
Wednesday didn't start well. With coffee in mind we arrived early in Alte for my weekly physio appointment with Jodi to find three snack-bars shut for hols. Instead, I nipped into the supermarket to get a bag of bird food which I locked in the boot before going across the road for a restorative massage.
Five minutes into the massage, my phone rang from the table beside Jodi's treatment table. I ignored it. Then a message came through on it. Feeling uneasy, I asked Jodi if I could take a look. It was from Barbara. I had (unwittingly) locked her in the car. When she unlocked the door from the inside, she had set the alarm off. I was stranded in my undies and socks and not a fit sight for public viewing. Jodi was kind enough to nip across the road with the keys and resolve things. A post-massage coffee and therapeutic baggy helped to restore Jones's equilibrium.
JONES DAWN
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