Saturday we woke to news of the death of our friend and former neighbour, Michael Brown - seen with us here at the Hamburgo beside his wife, Elizabeth. Michael had been hovering between life and death for weeks at their home in the village of Cabanas. So his death came as a painful release for Elizabeth, on whom much of the burden of care had fallen.
Barbara said we should take her some flowers, a gesture supported by our expat neighbours. At a nursery on the highway we chose colourful plants that we hoped would serve to remind Liz of the many happy times we enjoyed together. RIP Michael. You were a good friend.
Sunday morning the animals drew our attention to the arrival in the study of a small unwise bird. It fluttered around the high ceiling, ignoring the doors we opened to persuade it to leave. For its protection, Jones locked Dearheart in the bedroom while I bade Mini keep her distance. As the little creature darted around, I tried to catch it in the pool net - with eventual success. We released it, none the worse for wear. The background titles are not intended to impress. It just so happens that the bird preferred religious books to those on evolution.
CENTRAL LOULE
Our Swedish neighbour, Annchen, has impressed us for some time with the range of perfumed soaps and lotions that she has been making at home. They are spectacular and have been selling well. Now she and Lennert are about to open a shop in the heart of Loule. The blue arrow points the way for any who might be interested.
Barbara is worried about the state of one of her adopted cats, Not Robbie, who has been losing weight. Since being elbowed out of Casa Nada by another feline intruder, Not Robbie has taken up residence at Sarah and David's cottage, some 200 metres away. Barbara trots across there twice a day - and sometimes more often - with a can of nutritious food. She stands protectively over the cat while he eats as her charitable visits are well known to the local feline bruisers.
STILL LIFE
I am locked in a losing battle with the post office courier firm, known as CTT Express. This is the courier favoured by the nearest Amazon outlet, that in Spain. The last three items I ordered there have not arrived. Instead I have received emails informing me that the items could not be delivered because of a wrong or incomplete address - which is nonsense.
The problem is that the mappers, Google included, have not caught up with local street name changes. But while the other couriers leave a slip in our postbox or phone to make delivery arrangements, CTT Express sits on its bottom. Little wonder the group earns just a single star from other disappointed clients - one I'm about to endorse.
With public holidays on both Wednesday and Thursday, many Portuguese enjoyed a long weekend. We were lucky to find parking overlooking the estuary when we took ourselves to Faro beach for a take-away lunch midweek. Snack bars were doing good safe-distance business once again - but still no movement across the water at Faro airport.
A nightly struggle continues between Mini and Squinty for possession of my Netflix lap in the recliner. Mini's preference is to relax on her cushion nearby but, when she catches sight of the cat, she leaps on to me to frustrate him. On occasion, Squinty gets there first. Whatever the case, I spend the next ten minutes trying to fend the reluctant loser off.
THE VIEW ACROSS THE VALLEY
It's been surprisingly cool and cloudy for June. We even had a drop of rain midweek. Although we've braved the the pool once or twice, we have been more grateful for the warmth of the jacuzzi.
On Thursday Slavic and I did great work cleaning up the right-of-way passage that runs below our bottom fence, down through Idalecio's property, to the road. Over the years the area has blossomed with the many succulents that Jones has planted along the fence. During winter it gets very overgrown, along with low-hanging almond branches that dissuade Natasha and Slavic from parking there.
ANY DOG THAT NIPS MY FINGER FACES A WEEK IN SOLITARY!
The passage is little used, other than by Jones who goes down each afternoon with treats for her adopted animals. One hardly need add that our pampered pooches don't lack for treats either. There's nothing like a rustling packet to get their attention.
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