Letter from Espargal: 30 June 2017

Last Friday we fetched my sister Cathy from the airport. The terminal heaved with arriving visitors. They streamed out of the impressive new hall, trailing their cases, lighting their relieving fags, looking for all the world like superior refugees.



BORROWED PIC

I reflected that a little less food and a little more exercise wouldn't have done most of them any harm. Not that I should talk. Judge not lest ye be judged, the book says.



Early on Saturday I dropped into Loule hospital for a little interior rearrangement. Cathy and Jones accompanied me. We arrived as the gates opened and had the reception hall to ourselves. After signing in, I waved my companions goodbye and accompanied my guide upstairs.

CATHY WITH DAVID & DAGMAR

In my absence the ladies caught up with friends and neighbours.



Here are some of the expat Sunday brunchers at the Hamburgo.



Jones reported from the restaurant that the skies had darkened and five minutes' worth of rain had fallen. It was welcome, token that it was, for ominous clouds of smoke have been rising over the distant hills.

RELAX FELLOWS, IT'S JUST A TEMPORARY ARRANGEMENT

Late on Monday I emerged, still trailing the odd rubber tube. (Don't ask) Cathy and Barbara came to fetch me. I felt uneasy being driven home in my own car, as though something I couldn't figure had gone awry with my personal world, depriving me of my independence. While I remain tangled up, a capacious towelling wrap of Barbara's is coming in most useful.



On Tuesday, as Natasha set about the house,  I joined Cathy and Jones at the Funchais snack bar somewhat hesitantly for a sandwich lunch. There I bumped into, and was warmly embraced by Carla, one of my off-duty hospital carers in spite of (my) decidedly odd appearance. I was grateful for a dearth of other clients.

RITA

I might add that to thank the nursing staff for their attentive care, we presented them with a small coffee-making machine, a facility they greatly appreciated. Previously, they'd had to go downstairs and outside to the day kiosk set up in the yard to find such refreshments. Loule's small (private) hospital, renovated a few years ago, lacks a canteen. Patients' meals are ordered-in from a nearby restaurant. Jolly good meals they are too although they inevitably arrive luke-warm.



Apart from assuming driving and dog-adopting duties, Cathy has been doing sterling work in the irrigation department. Jones has divided the garden into four sections, each of which gets watered twice a week. There is much discussion about the welfare of various plants and trees. Trees are of particular interest to Cathy, who can identify most.



Some years ago I tried installing an irrigation system but was defeated by the steep slopes and extensive surface rock. So irrigation is done mainly by hand, typically for about an hour a day in high summer, although we do resort to a sprinkler on occasion.



While watering one afternoon, Cathy spotted a snake that was trying to hide behind a blue stool intended for a flower pot. Using one of her grippers, I was able to persuade the serpent, about a metre in length, to seek pastures new. Much to my regret, neither of my companions thought to take a picture. So you have to make do with this reconstruction.

SCABIOUS - THERE ARE WHOLE FIELDS OF THEM TO BE FOUND

Let me add that the previous sinewy visitor to the garden got short shrift from one of the dogs, not that Tuesday's visitor appreciated the kindness I was doing it by moving it on. Indeed, it hissed its displeasure in no uncertain fashion. We see lots of snakes in the summer. They do us no harm and we merely encourage them to stay away from the house.



Following my hardware upgrade I have been slightly indisposed, unable this week to join Jones and the dogs on walks. My excursions have been limited to a gentle afternoon amble along the pedestrian circuit in the park, with a pause to treat the eagerly waiting beasts at the top.

CONCRETE PATH THROUGH THE PARK

Jones reported after one outing that, as the pack returned to the property, she heard Russ barking fiercely up front before he raced back to her.  Fearing an encounter with some other creature, my wife hurried forward to find the two orphans spooked stiff. Above them a grimacing balloon bobbed around a bush in which its tether had caught.



After bringing the dogs home, Barbara returned to photograph and retrieve the balloon. For the time-being it resides in the living room. As it deflates, I've been blowing it up, which has rather weighed it down (as I can't exhale helium).



For their part, the dogs still pause at they approach the bush to let Jones go ahead, lest any more demons leap out at them.



This is a shot that Cathy took of seven azure-winged magpies at the water bowl in the garden. I've had to zoom right in on it to show the birds, so it's a bit hazy. I've never seen more than three of the magpies together. Nor have I seen them bathing before.



The shy magpies, which are particularly fond of cat nibbles, are by far the most exotic visitors to the bird tray. They are outnumbered by the squabbling sparrows and bossy doves. The latter scatter the seed all over the show as they feed. There are more spectacular birds to be seen in the area but they tend to keep themselves to themselves, well-used to the hunters' depredations.



Friday I'm due to be a free man once again. Roll on!