DAWN ON CHRISTMAS EVE
Hello from Espargal on a drizzly, misty morning - fairly typical of Algarvian mornings for the past week or two. Although the midwinter temperatures seldom emerge from the teens, there's a small fire in the stove, less for warmth than to settle the dogs and to dry the washing that hangs from the rack upstairs. (We don't have a clothes dryer. The sun serves most of the year and the fire for the rest.)
Quite a lot of stuff has happened in our lives since last I blogged. I spent Christmas in Calgary very pleasantly with my Canadian and German families. Barbara celebrated New Year in London with Llewellyn and Lucia, catching up on friends and exhibitions.
Neither of our travels was as straightforward as it might have been. I seemed to set off a lot of security-check alarms (Please raise your arms.....!) and to land in the wrong queues. Jones had to negotiate the closure for repairs of the railway link between Gatwick airport and London, a move that caused huge complications for hordes of travellers. Happily, such irritations were swiftly forgotten in the hospitable bosoms of our welcoming families.
I exploited my Canadian visit to purchase another Pebble smart-watch. I say "another" because the Pebble that I obtained two years ago subsequently froze and couldn't be revived - greatly to my disappointment. I love the watch for the saving it makes on phone retrievals from shirt pockets to discover who is messaging/emailing one and why - especially in the car.
FAMILY IN THE CALGARY LIVING ROOM
Another purchase has been of a new mobile phone. This is a subject that I need to treat with some sensitivity as there is a feeling in some quarters that I acquire rather more mobile phones than is strictly necessary. Thus an explanation of the circumstances might be appropriate. It so happened that I was taking in my HTC mobile phone to Vodafone for repairs; the battery needed replacing and a technician to replace it.
TAP DANCING DISPLAY IN THE CALGARY BASEMENT LOUNGE
From the Vodafone assistant I gathered that I did not have enough points to warrant a serious discount on the latest top-of-the-line HTC-One M9 model. (I've long been an HTC fan!) But it happened that I had just enough points to achieve such a discount on its lesser cousin, the A9. Clearly, this was an opportunity not to be missed - the will of the gods, as they say.
A9 PICTURE SENT TO LLEWELLYN TO THANK HIM FOR GIFT OF MALT WHISKY
So, after just a little hesitation I came away with a new phone - and I have to say that it's a beaut.
Enough of such things!
MOONLIGHT ON THE SOLAR PANELS
My New Year chimed in bed, where I was joined by an additional dog as distant celebrations resounded through the hills. Barri, who was upset by the fireworks, sought comfort by my side - unusual behaviour on her part. To my amusement, she then took strong exception to the arrival of Prickles, a more frequent bed companion, letting him know in no uncertain terms that the bed was already full - which was true - and he should look to spend the night elsewhere.
BARRI
I was pleased to fetch Barbara from Faro airport on Monday evening - and not only because the needs of our many animals (and several of our neighbours') are so time-consuming - or because the occasional dog-sick/dropping no longer cleared itself up in her absence. Her plane was 30 minutes late, having had to deviate westwards around France because the perennially aggrieved French traffic controllers were on strike yet again. (Dante should have had a special circle of hell for striking air traffic controllers.)
BARBARA AND LLEWELLYN AT THE SPECTACULAR SERPENTINE SACKLER GALLERY CAFE
Faro airport, like that in Lisbon - under new management - had giant panels closing off much of the terminal as it undergoes conversion into a shopping mall.
Jones, too, was pleased to be home - the more so because Natasha had left the house gleaming and there was a welcoming fire in the stove.
WITH LUCIA IN THE LONDON KITCHEN
Following the festive period, life is back to normal. Jones rises early. She brings me toast and coffee 7.30ish as it's getting light. Unless it's pouring we go walking with the beasts. I set out with special care as the earth is generally wet and the smooth rocks that dot the path are unforgiving.
YELLOW-FLOWERED ALOE AND SOLAR PANEL IN OUR FIELD
Regrettably, I never seem to miss an opportunity to fall over. One reason may be, as Jones long ago observed, that for my size I have rather small feet (one of which is lazy). Like the dogs, Jones appears to have an internal gyroscope and not to be much troubled by these things.
OUT AND ABOUT IN LONDON
In other matters she retains human frailty. For one thing she has a damaged thumb, the product of a ski accident; it's a disability that sometimes makes it difficult for her to open jars or to grasp things.
Such was the case one night as she removed a large pot of yoghurt from the fridge. The pot slipped from her grasp, scattering its contents throughout the fridge and across the floor as it tumbled down.
It's not often that I hear my wife moaning but she moaned a fair bit as she set about clearing up the mess. (For the record, I should have been more than willing to assist had there been room for more than one person - which fortunately there wasn't.)
Twice, during her stay in London, I noted that one of the orphans, Mello, - a long-haired bitch - had returned from a walk with her head covered in burs.
THE GIRLS ON THE SOUTH PATIO DIVAN
But the next time we set out, she was bur-free. I was puzzled, wondering how she was removing them with her paws, as the wretched things hook in for dear life. In the event, she wasn't. To my great surprise, I saw her sister, Sparky, pulling them out one at a time with her teeth while Mello patiently allowed herself to be tended. The process continued until the last bur had been removed. I have often seen one dog licking another but such grooming - common in apes - was a first.
LUNCHEON IN THE CRYPT, ST-MARTIN-IN-THE-FIELDS
Of an evening we sit down for an hour or two over and after supper to watch TV. There are some excellent documentaries most nights - our favourite viewing. The trouble is that our chairs are comfortable, the fire is warm and the wine is mellowing. Sometimes I glance up to see Jones nodding off. At others I wake to find that she has already retired.
That's life. Or, as they say here, É a vida!
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