One way and another it's been quite an interesting week.
On Saturday morning Slavic and I laboured at all kinds of tasks. Here he is scattering fertilizer pellets around the carob trees. Our efforts were rewarded on Sunday with 1mm of drizzle. Wish it had been 20mm but beggars can't be choosers. Barbara is already having to water parts of the garden - at the height of the wet season!
ON THE CORK WALK
After lunch we visited Benafim's (first weekend of the month) Saturday market, taking Russ along with us for the ride. He loves going out in the car, dashing hopefully to the gates as we prepare to leave. The market was heaving although there was a great deal more conversation rather than commerce.
O QUARTO DO CAO - THE ROOM OF THE DOGI invested in a small embroidered name tag that I'd ordered for the spare room, where Russ prefers to spend much of his time. I should add that he's happy to share his quarters with occasional guests. On rare occasions we have to remind him that the bed is intended for humans; it's a reminder that he takes in good grace.
On Sunday we brunched with neighbours as is our custom. The picture above was taken by Helena on my left below, a guest of the Burdetts sitting opposite. Any such guests represent a temporary infusion of new blood and are thoroughly interrogated for news of the real world before we let them go.
Our brunch numbers go up and down, depending on who's around. As you may perceive from our apparel, it's been jolly cold. The Valapena salamandra has worked overtime. The irony is that while a polar wind expends its energies on the north side of our hill, the south basks in tranquil sunshine. Since our walks take in both sides, we have to choose between freezing on one and oozing perspiration on the other.
CAMELIA IN MEMORY OF SPARKY from MARIE & OLLY
Monday was my first day with a reasonably steady tummy after two weeks of lurching about with the lurgy. In my English class we talked about road safety. Alarmed at the recent rise in accidents, the Portuguese government is considering using light aircraft to monitor the highways and technology that blocks the phones of drivers on the road. Callers get a can't-take-your-call message. Apparently, France and Spain are already installing such.
SPARKY GOES TO HEAVEN
That evening our microwave packed up. When the lights began flickering, I went upstairs to check the voltage on the (Uninterruptible Power Supply) unit that protects my computer. It was flickering around the 170 mark instead of the usual 230. Little wonder the microwave wouldn't function.
IN CASE YOU MISSED HER
I phoned the EDP who promised to attend to the problem within the hour. They were true to their word. Their engineers didn't visit the house but they presumably fixed a fault on the small transformer at the bottom of the village for everything - including the microwave - was back in working order soon after.
POOR MELLOW, WHO CRIES FOR HER SOULMATE IN THE MORNINGS
There was much excitement a few days back when the EDP discovered that someone in the know had nicked a similar [live] transformer, the size of a large fridge, from a post about a km down a lonely road. That's downright cheeky. Presumably there's a market in second-hand transformers.
A HOPEFUL SIGN - MELLOW TEAMS UP WITH MINI
On Tuesday - the 100th anniversary of women's suffrage in the UK - the airwaves simply reeked of oestrogen. The BBC's Today all-female- presenter morning news programme dealt with little else. Celebrity women interviewed important women about outstanding women who had proved themselves equal to men - all the while bearing children, cooking family meals and cleaning the house. Noble but very dull! The world's volatile stock markets played second fiddle!
TREATS UNDER ALMOND BLOSSOM - LATE BECAUSE OF THE DROUGHT
In despair I turned the radio off. Jones, I should add, had also had her fill. If I wasn't acquainted with so many clever and sensible women, I might well have come to think female suffrage regrettable. (PS: I sent a well-done email to a British MP, Anna Soubry, who is defying the vociferous Little Englander Brexiteers whom we so despise. If our curses were effective, they'd be laid low with the pest, the whole pernicious bunch.)
Also on Tuesday, after carefully filling in the required application form, I paid my first (and last) visit to Loule's indoor swimming pool centre - encouraged by Jodi the physio. Matters were not helped that I'd forgotten a towel and was unaware that slip-slops were a requirement. Most of the two pools were occupied by classes. The tiles were wickedly slippery and the two lanes that I was permitted to use were both occupied by muscular Olympic- style swimmers doing serious training. My swim - nay, my dip - was mercifully brief. We live and learn. Next we'll try Quarteira's pool. Can't be worse and there's nothing to lose.
AGARVE ATTENUATA FLOWER SPIKE - RISING AS THE PLANT NEARS THE END OF ITS LIFE
Late Tuesday, as we prepared to sup with neighbours at the newly re-opened Hamburgo, we received a message from Barbara's South African nephew's daughter in the UK to the effect that she had obtained the necessary Schengen visa and would be joining us on Thursday afternoon. Some hurried communications followed to determine the details.
DOGS IN THE PARK
Wednesday I ploughed our fields and caught up with some long-standing tasks around the house. Jones prepared the guest bedroom. We have warned her 18-year old great niece that we don't live the high life. I hope the young woman likes spoiled dogs, pastoral views and country walks.
The blog is coming to you early this week. As I write, Natasha cleans the house. We are off to the airport shortly.
No comments:
Post a Comment