This blog starts life early one sweat-dribbling afternoon. The rotating tower fan is doing its best to keep me cool. One advantage of blogging is that it's an inside activity. I can enjoy a self-righteous sense of getting down to work without having to bear the heat and burden of the day with Jones in the garden. I have half an ear on the radio. Some political people are being shocked and horrified by David Cameron's resignation honours list.
I am glad to be able to declare, hand on heart, that our honour-free lives have not left us with chips on our shoulders. In this part of the world it's your fava bean crop that impresses - mine doesn't - not the letters after your name or the degrees on your CV.
Speaking of which: as a former employee (for my sins) of the South African Broadcasting Corporation, I noted that its chairperson was forced to resign for faking her qualifications. (The Rainbow Nation is the fake qualification capital of the world!) The corporation's current boss, apart from hiking his salary and dismissing learning as a waste of time, is brushing off criticism for claiming falsely that he'd finished school. Come back Jonathan Swift!
Enough of such trivia! We have been quite sociable. One day we drove to the village of Cortelha to admire the progress that friends, Rob and Helen, have made with the old cottage that they bought some years ago. Like Helen's parents - our neighbours, David and Sarah - they still live in the UK and commute down when ever. Rob's with the fire service and Helen's a teacher.
HELEN IN HER GARDEN, WITH BARBARA, LIZ and ROB IN THE DISTANCE
To my mind, the house (like ours) is ideally located on the edge of a village with neighbours below and countryside above. The couple have invested their resources into transforming it into a lovely modern home. New electrics and plumbing run through a channel cut into the floor. The garden is flourishing, nurtured equally by an irrigation system and an extraordinarily kind neighbour.
SERENADED BY THE MALE VOICE CHOIR
A second outing was to the Feira da Serra (Mountain Festival) in Sao Bras. This is our favourite summer fair, staged in the grounds of the town school. We were joined by neighbours, Fintan and Pauline, their daughter Anita and granddaughter Chloe - of whom more in a moment. The fair caters for all interests, whether food, art, crafts, music, vehicles or equestrian displays. I love the male voice choirs.
THE BAND PARADES PAST THE STALLS. UNIFORM CODE IS RELAXED
This coming weekend brings the much smaller Benafim festa, attendance at which is an annual must. There you'll find everybody who's a local anybody as well as lots of nobodies. In fact it's almost impossible to tell them apart. The occasion is an convivial supper, music and dance celebration which raises money for local causes. Balls are still popular in these parts, especially among the older generation.
Midweek the girls donned their glad rags and we gathered at Monte da Eira, a stylish restaurant in the hills above Loule that we patronise on special occasions.
Seated opposite me is my neighbour Pauline and beside me her daughter, Anita, down on holiday from Dublin. I have informed Anita that if I were a Zulu I should certainly consider making her my second wife, whatever the lobola demanded by her father.
Also down on holiday and with us was Pauline's granddaughter, Chloe - Anita's niece - here pictured wearing my Tilley hat. Chloe is in her mid-teens and, like most of her generation, cyber wise. She had no hesitation in telling me that she would not allow me to become her Facebook friend - not that I do Facebook.
Midweek also saw the delivery of a new fridge, one I had selected after quiet discussions with our appliance suppliers. On the eve of its arrival I informed Jones, who needed to empty the old fridge ahead of time. She wasn't best pleased at the surprise - never mind that the old one was playing up and the bins cracked and patched with gaffer tape. Jones is of the view that a fridge is for life - till death do us part. We are not throwing the old one out, however. It has been transferred to Casa Nada where it will replace an even more ancient model. Beware surprises!
To my distress, at the end of last week, my Pebble smart watch froze, showing a watch and lightning bolt image that I couldn't shift. There was no reference to it on the Pebble help site, nor was it familiar to the email helpline assistant. She referred the case to the technical department who emailed me several days later to say that the watch simply needed charging; they suspected that my USB charging cable was faulty and they offered to send me another.
After some late night effort I managed to recharge the watch and link it once again to my phone. It's a great relief, especially when travelling, just to be able to glance at my wrist to see who communications are from and whether they require a prompt response.
My annual firewood delivery turned up one afternoon. The supplier likes to service regular customers in summer, knowing that there will be pressure on supplies as the days cool. Two strapping fellows unloaded, barrowed and then repacked 3 tons of hard wood - a two-hour, two-litre of perspiration operation.
I provided copious amounts of cold water, topped off with beers. The wood should last us the winter with lots to spare. The cost was €435 plus a generous tip. I think it's a bargain. Our wood-stove fires are wonderful company as well as a comfort. The supplier insists that his sources are not permitted to cut down live trees and provide timber only from those that have died - be that as it may!
Mini continues to make a big impression on our lives. She's a people dog, happiest in company and a pushy little live wire. She likes a lot of attention and is not averse to leaping up on to my lap or joining us on the sofa or in bed. We take care that her demands do not serve to deprive the others of attention.
She continued to go awol each time we left the house until Jones eventually spotted that she was squeezing through the vertical bars of the gates at the tractor entrance. We closed off access to that section of the garden, which kept her in for a day or two until she worked out another route. Smart kid!
MINI - BOTTOM RIGHT - IS SERVED FIRST
Barbara is insistent that we should not overfeed her. (The vet has advised us to put a couple of our other pets on diet!) But she gobbles down her food so fast that her bowl is empty before I've even finished distributing the rest. She then tours the patio trying to stick her nose into other dogs' food.
Our Saturday morning labours continue although this coming weekend will probably be my last for a while. The workers have been building stone and concrete steps that lead up through the rockery to the park entrance.
From there a path winds its way 100 metres through our mini-wood to the top gate. The aim, as usual, is as much about practicality and appearance as keeping winter's thriving weeds at bay. We simply have to reduce the overpowering amount of work we face each summer in clearing and strimming.
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