Thursday evening: There's a bird singing his heart out on the telephone pole beside our fence. Barbara says he's a song thrush. I thought a blackbird. Not that it matters. His melody is what counts and it's glorious. It's been a busy day, with Slavic's assistance this morning and Natasha's this afternoon. But this blog really starts last weekend.
Saturday we went around early to the Sousas to see how Carachinho was faring. Although he had perked up slightly the previous day, we found him in poor shape once again, listless and uninterested in food. So we lifted him into the car and took him to the vet in Loule. There he was diagnosed with a burst tumour of the spleen, almost certainly malignant.
\After a few tears and discussing the options with the vet and Joachim (his owner, centre above) we asked the vet to him put down. He wasn't a youngster. Then we brought him home and, with invaluable assistance from Fintan, we buried him in our field beside Ono and Prickles.
Finally we rasied a glass to his memory. Carachinho (Cara-sheen-yu) was a lovely dog. His death was untimely if kind. We miss him. A little of us dies with each departing dog.
TAKE THE TREAT GENTLY; DON'T BITE MY FINGER
Although we worry sometimes about the fate of any who might outlive us, there's no relief to be had in burying them.
Sunday and Monday passed as Sundays and Mondays do. As part of Monday's English lesson I had asked my pupils to write a note to the local authorities explaining why they should be let off parking fines. Two gave lengthy excuses. The third was short and to the point; she didn't have a car. You can't argue with that! There's no lesson next week as Loule succumbs to carnival.
Tuesday we planted up the pots in the jacuzzi sand circle. It's a work in progress. The plant seen flowering behind Barbara is one of the waist-high Alexanders that have completely colonised parts of the garden.
If you think I'm exaggerating, look at the picture. The stuff is all but impenetrable. The plants are seasonal and,
like the asphodels that inhabit the middle park, will wither in the heat of summer before being strimmed and added to Barbara's compost heap.
SUCCULENTS IN FLOWER
Wednesday I ran a neighbour into Loule hospital for a check-up. To kill a couple of hours, I took myself to nearby Mar Shopping Centre to learn more about the Samsung S20 phones that are due out next month. Impressive! Thence to the local car wash to hose down and vacuum the Honda. Jones, who is fussy about the state of her house, likes me to be equally particular about my car.
Thursday Slavic and I tractored down to the valley to look for some attractive rocks for the sand circle. I think we should call it the Circle of Contemplation, if only to give it a reason to be - maybe even set down a bench nearby. We found some ideal standing stones, a couple of them spectacular brutes that took a lot of heaving down the steps into the garden.
Afterwards we completed the path from the house to the circle, first raking out the wet concrete between the rock borders,
and then smoothing it and cutting non-slip grooves into it. There's just one more section to complete at the bottom of the garden and we'll be done with paving. It looks most attractive, if I say so myself - and it's very practical.
Thursday evening I received an email from our lawyer with the registration document for Casa Nada attached. It doesn't look like much but it represents a great deal - the end of a 20 year saga. What a frustrating and expensive odyssey it's been! Legal at last!
Now it's after midnight and time that I followed their example.
I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December.
A magical thing
And sweet to remember.
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