Yesterday was a good day for both of us and, despite all that is going on around us at the moment that is out of our control, we seem to have imbued ourselves with a rather special brand of positivity this past week, the like of which we haven’t had for a very long time. In another frenzy of activity we were out and about doing some worthwhile jobs that I’m sure we’ve been putting off, fortified by green tea, black tea and the odd Kenyan AA cafetiere.
Firstly, another rock and rubbish drop, filling the wheelbarrow with little stones and adding whatever non-polluting rubbish we have around the house – our version of hardcore – for the base of the retaining wall. There’s no such thing as dustbin collection here; we either burn stuff or bundle it up and take it to one of the eyesore dumping areas in the vicinity. The Spanish seem incapable of actually putting rubbish in the container; they prefer to drop it outside in big piles. Anyway, we like to think we do our own brand of recycling.
Then Joe finished off the last of our capa fina on the inverter house while I painted the doors. Capa fina is a versatile white powder like plaster which is mixed with water to give a smooth coating to rough walls. Completely waterproof, it is a great favourite in Spanish construction, that is, when people were allowed to construct. All we need now is to get some more dark brown water-based paint and another bag of capa fina.
The inverter house will soon be as fire proof and invisible as we can make it, and a far cry from the flimsy wooden shed affair attached to the side of the cabin. And as the recently bought inverter cost over 2,000 euros, it was crying out for a more secure home. I think I will write a post very soon about the happenings this year – 2 dead inverters and 2 exploding deep cell batteries (amongst other things) – while the boys were trying to get our system to work.
The exploded batteries have now been drained, and put with some heavy duty car batteries for selling for scrap the next time we go to the coast. I had no idea that we could actually get some money for the lead they contain, but it could well be enough to pay for the brown paint and capa fina!
Set off in the old Mitsubishi for another perambulation in the sierras and it stands to reason that we would come across a few rather pleasant looking stones on the way back. Hotter than yesterday, with temperatures nudging 36 deg C and I must confess to feeling a little overcome by the heat, but was determined to walk to the designated landmark we’d set. My Scandinavian walking poles provide some insurance against stumbling on the rocky track; a fall would not be a good idea as I had a hip replacement only 8 months ago.
There were a couple of hang gliders doing their stuff and one landed in front of us narrowly avoiding a bank of prickly holm oaks, while the other went off at some pace towards the lower reaches of La Maroma (2,200m), with the recovery vehicle in hot pursuit. When we got back the soon-to-be-big wall greedily gobbled up its lunchtime fare, and despite its massive depth, there’s already a noticeable difference in height. Great place to bury rubbish too! In fact, the wall was so hungry that we felt duty bound to take the Mitsubishi out for another spin!
As yesterday drew to a close, a helicopter started patrolling backwards and forwards in a grid formation over our nearest white-washed village, and almost certainly this was another photographic reconnaissance so the assembled grey suits back at base can see at a glance who has had the temerity since the last photo shoot to construct some modest gateposts, or (like us) build an addition to their dwelling. By the time I got my camera it had headed off, but the light was so lovely I still took this photo with Mrs Moon rising to the left.
Last job before some catch-up TV on the old i-pad was watering the newly-planted agave hedge. While I was down there I saw some fresh wild boar activity; in this photo you can see the imprint of the beast’s snout. Usually they decimate whole areas and our nearest English neighbours, who appear to have surrounded themselves with a perfect English garden, full of daffodils and roses, have their bulbs and roots truffled up regularly each year and their neat garden gets reduced to mounds of earth and emptied borders. But still they re-plant rather than put proper fencing around their whole perimeter! I find it rather reassuring that some boar are still around, despite the hunters’ best efforts to the contrary.
It’s great to recycle water but a little drawback of using our ‘grey’ water is the smell. No, it isn’t poo or wee water, just the stuff left from washing clothes, dishes and ourselves. Soaked and a little smelly I stumbled back up the hill and was rewarded with a nice view of Mrs Moon behind the new little cypress hedge. What a lovely sight!