When we arrived back home from France on the
evening of 3rd November, it was too dark to see what the gardeners
had done during our absence. Imagine our delight when next morning, we could see
that the conifers at the other end of the pool had been taken down, the large
almond tree had been heavily pollarded, the mess cleaned up and the log pile
looking very healthy.
One afternoon, we watched a Hoopoe wandering around on
the grass, between the pool and the terrace, This was the first time we had seen
this species of bird in our back garden but some friends who came round for
supper soon after the event, told us that they had seen quite a few from their
casa, in Javea, overlooking the Mongo. On further investigation, it seems that
these birds don’t tend to come much further north than where we are situated in
Another day, we found a very fragile looking insect which
looked like a very skinny praying mantis. It was balancing on the edge of part
of the balustrade on the front porch area.
For the second time this year, I slipped on the back
steps, still wet with dew, when I took out the laundry to dry. This time there
were more abrasions and I needed help to get in and out of bed but thankfully I
have recovered well. The crocs, my ugly, Mini-mouse shoes are lethal on a wet
floor and are now a thing of the past. I was so lucky not to do permanent or
disabling damage to myself, even though I am still walking a bit like a cross
between a crab and a duck.
Jean and Mike from Jeanius (WARC participants), arrived
in Moraira and gave us a call to let us know that they were in the vicinity. We
hadn’t seen them since we left St
Lucia, following the celebrations at the end of
the circumnavigation last April.
Their holiday home is less than a mile from our casa and
they joined us for a meal on Sunday evening; the same day that David and Susan
(also WARC participants) came to visit us, en-route to
they plan to collect some parts for their boat before taking their car to
Glasgow and then flying to
Although expected, it was still distressing when my
Mother passed away around
Sunday 13th November. She was 86years old and appeared to have no
quality left in her life.
We sorted through a wardrobe where Dick still has two
suits, a pair of slacks and a blazer, any of which might be suitable as funeral
attire. He hasn’t worn any of these clothes since we moved to
Spain in 2002.
There generally isn’t really a need for anything other than casual clothing. No
surprise therefore that none of the trousers got close to fitting. Ever hopeful
and anticipating that one day he might lose some weight, the clothes were put
back in the wardrobe.
The charity shop will have to wait for the clothes but
the wheelchair, which we kept in
Spain for my
late step-father we gave to the charity Help. One of the organizers told us that
on a number of occasions they have had to retrieve one of their wheelchairs from
the airport. Tourists, having borrowed a wheelchair tend to abandon it when it
is time to return home. Subsequently, one of the volunteers has to take time out
to collect it; by the time they get to the airport, the person who initially
called to tell them that the chair needed collection, is no longer on duty and
nobody else knows where it is. The frustration of responsibility!
It took five calls in order to cancel our Spanish credit
card which had been cloned. Fortunately, the purchases were not accepted by the
bank, which sent a text to our mobile to inform us of the situation, thus
alerting us to the fact that the card was being used fraudulently, outside of
we will be able to collect replacement cards before we fly to the
UK first thing
on Thursday morning. We need the card details to access our on-line banking
It is great to be squeezing our own oranges to make juice
for breakfast. Until the last few days we have bought packs of oranges from the
supermarket while we wait for our own fruit to ripen.The Clementine’s are still not ready so
we will miss out on those.
The frogs have now been moved away from the pool and will
adorn the back porch, pretending to be watch dogs, until we return next year.