Update

OK, yes, I admit it, I have been lazy as well as busy. I meant to post in the New Year seeing as I had lots to tell you about, mostly involving my first trip back to the UK in three and a half years. And it was fun. I got to see my sister and her boyfriend, and my niece and flirt outrageously with their cat, a handsome ginger tom called Olly, and eat my first Cauldron Foods veggie sausage sandwich in years, which my mum had very kindly prepared for me to scoff as we left the airport. Speaking of which, I got dizzy - honestly- going round the roundabout in the 'wrong' direction leaving Stansted. I'm properly continental now it seems.

Anyway, I can't remember the last time it was so cold, certainly not here, although at times this last winter it's not been far off. But anyway, the cold there added to the festiveness of the trip (probably since I had central heating to go with it) as did a trip to the panto in Harrogate in which I fully particpated. So much so that I started to lose my voice near the end from all the shouting 'oh yes it is' and 'it's behind you', though that didn't stop me, oh no... it was panto, and specifically my first in years and years, and my first with my niece and I wasn't going to not take part.


Sunrise in Ripon, N. Yorkshire on a cold winter's morning. I was taking my niece to school, quite possibly the only thing that could've induced me to get up that early on such a cold day.



Mr Oliver, what gorgeous eyes you have!

How could I resist? And of course, I didn't.


Anyways, I got my first curries (yes, in the plural) in too long, my first chip-shop chips, doused in malt vinegar, in too long and on top of that was spoiled rotten by all the snug central heating. And, if all that wasn't enough, my mum got me a digital camera for Xmas, so now I can once more snap away happily, thanks mum! After five days in North Yorkshire I pootled on down to London with the expectation of warmer weather. Ha! Temperatures got down to -10º. Though I did still enjoy myself. I got to wander the excellent British Museum for an hour, which was nowhere near long enough but still an adventure.


In the British Museum.


I caught up with friends and enjoyed being in the capital, especially at night. Walking across Tower Bridge and seeing the South Bank and St. Paul's and the London Eye all lit up was something special.
Excuse the blurry pic - still practising with the camera.


As were the cocktails with Sue, the vegetarian curry in Tooting and my first pint of proper ale in what felt like an eternity: it was one I hadn't tried before - Timothy Taylor's Landlord and it was quite possibly the best I've ever had.



Too many to choose from, so we ordered two and shared. I very much approved of the large glasses.



The star beverage of the trip: a very tasty Landlord.

I arrived back home in Asturias to snow falling as I drove back up my mountain. Believe me, it's not pleasant coming back to a stone house that has been empty for a week in the middle of winter when it's cold enough to snow after having spent a week of blissful luxury in a centrally-heated environment; especially since a feral cat ripped the cat flap door off its hinges letting a freezing wind into the house (and I'm still having trouble replacing it with the new one, how can an electric drill be so hard to use?). Then, just in time for the start of work, I came down with a nasty cold and cough, which I've just about managed to shake off completely now it seems that spring and the sun have returned to Asturias.
View down the hill at dusk.

Anyway, since then, what have I been up to? Well, getting a tube shoved down my thorat into my tum to see if I'm Coeliac for starters, which was vile, and I'm still waiting on the results - not until May; trudging down to work and back in more snow; starting a self-defence class and wishing my body was as quick at learning as my mind - legs go this way, left arm goes round and out, right arm goes... aw shit, let's start again, again; and welcoming Sue who's come to stay for two months (not quite the strapping 'au pair' she herself suggested I get to help out, but much better company at least) and has been helping me get the garden in order - the potatoes went in today - as well as being a good Scrabble/drinking/DVD-watching partner.

There's one more even that's happened recently which doesn't suit the tone of this posting, which I'd started over two weeks ago, so I'll tell you all about it in another post very soon.

Sorry to have been away for so long - yet again. Now I have a garden helper I hope to have more time again for the blog.

Why do women need men?

So the old joke goes. And in the unlikely even that any of you out there don't know it, the punchline is, and don't get too excited: because vibrators can't mow the lawn. Anyway, vibrator or not, I was determined that I should be able to cope with the lawn here. It was the one thing that caused me most worry about being on my own. I've mown lawns before but this one is on a slope, measures about 1,200 square metres and I'd never done it here before, nor used a petrol mower.

A vast expanse of rapidly-growing grass. The lawn before mowing

This is the means I have of cutting it. A heavy petrol mower, with powered wheels, which I have recently named The Beast.

A brief practice several months ago left me worried about being carried away by it, down the hill, causing in havoc in neighbouring vegetable patches as I went, so I approached the machine with some trepidation the first time it came to my mowing the lawn on my own. Sunny evening as it was, I donned my Australian-army-issue reversible sun hat and sturdy walking boots, pulled on my gardening gloves and got down to work. I decided to allocate myself two hours to get as much of the task done as I could, seeing as it was my first time, and then complete it another day.

All ready to start.

Half an hour in, I was hot, sticky and red-faced and the hat was disgustingly sweaty. Traversing the slope wasn't too difficult, but turning round at each end gave the mower an opportunity to glide off towards the freedom that it seemed eager to take every time. And then of course when the grass holder was full the compost heap was located right at the top of the slope - by the vegetable patch - which necessitated a long trek up there to dump the grass. Carrying on, I realised that a sun top and shorts is definitely not the best gear to be wearing to cut an insect-filled lawn and swore each time one of the litte buggers decided I'd be a tasty snack.

However, I'm not the sort to be easily deterred. Besides my two hours weren't up so I had to keep going. If I gave up the first time round I'd never make it. Also the neighbours were out and about and I wasn't going to let them think that I was some weak little woman who couldn't cope on her own. Rural Spain still has to catch up somewhat on the sexual equality front and I was determined to do my little bit to help. So, after a brief rest to catch my breath and down a pint of water I went on.

Traditional hay making - I stop for a break but the neighbours carry on

And blow me if, 90 minutes after I'd started, I had the whole lawn mown and looking rather snazzy. I rather surprised myself.

The finished product

After several more glasses of water I celebrated with a tasty dinner and a few glasses of wine. I felt it was the least I'd earnt. Since that first attempt I've attacked the lawn twice more, with gusto, and come out the winner each time. The Beast still tries it on every now and again but I now feel fit and capable enough to show it who's boss.

One of those rare days

Today has been good. Very good. One of those days where everything is right and everyone and everything is in a fine mood. I enjoyed every little detail.



The lawn carpeted with daisies

Mahou adventuring



Beeps exploring the chapel roof



The first of the neighbour's lambs

Another neighbour's horse looking for attention



Even the clothes flapping chirpily in the breeze as puffs of cloud moved across the sky in formation behind them.

As for myself, after a session cutting wood and trimming the grass around the new bushes, I decided that was that and retired, book in hand, to my hammock.

Mixed skies

It's the time of year the weather often does this, or worse.



Although it's not always that bleak.


Blue skies in February. Normally, by this time of year everything is convered in snow. The neighbour's mimosa adds a welcome dash of colour whatever. As does the minature version on this side of the fence.



Vegetable planting has been started. In December a packet of chilli seeds arrived in the post, sent by a friend in the UK. Each of five friends has a packet and we're going to see who can grow the best chillies.



According to the bumf that came with the packet, you're not supposed to plant them until February. I cheated and sowed them about four weeks ago. They're currently in a propagator on a sunny window ledge, looking very happy.

And this is what I should hopefully have come summer.



The variety is called Twilight, I'm very enamoured with the colours, especially the purple. Almost too good to eat.

Solstice

First of all, let me apologise for the lack of photos in this post. It seems my camera has turned into a vampire as it sucks all the life out of the batteries before I can get a single photo taken, and spending €26 on new rechargables has not helped the situation. And this just when I wanted to entertain you all with pictures of the mulled wine, the grand lighting and our roaring bonfire. Although, to be honest, ones of me after one too many mugs of wine were never going to be posted anyway. I wonder if it's too late to convert and ask Santa for a new one?!

It's always wonderful to arrive home to the smell of mulled wine, especially when there's a warming chilli 'sin carne' awaiting too. So, defying the rest of El Entrego who all seemed to be determined that I should have a Feliz Navidad (I really should learn how to say 'Winter Solstice' in Spanish so I can wish everyone a happy one in reply), we scoffed our dinner and, mugs of spiced wine in hand, went outside to enjoy the evening. The night was clear, the moon almost full and the stars winked cheekily at us in the crisp air.

Bonfire lit, we spread out an old blanket and enjoyed the warmth and spendour of the fire, which I imagine could be seen all the way down in the town. We were soon joined by all three cats who took great delight in having an audience for their clowning around the kale plants before deciding that the stange glowing object wasn't a threat and coming to sit on the blanket with us. Eventually they got bored and went in, but we stayed out until gone midnight, sitting, watching, contemplating, and supping beer once the wine had run out.

We made it to bed at about 1.30 this morning with the plan of planting our peas today and preparing the bed for garlic. However, the weather has turned and it's been raining since mid-morning. Instead I'm planning on lazing next to the fire with a good book.

Winter Approaching

After a quick session in the garden yesterday between downpours, it struck me that after much hard work we do, finally, have what can be called with no stretching of the truth 'a garden' rather than a field that someone had stuck a few plants in. And despite the fast-approching winter it was still a fine place to be.




Kale & cat

Wild peach tree & horreo

More splashes of colour in neighbouring fields

All tiny fig and hardly any leaf - should've resticted those roots a bit more

Our bargain €8 Japanese Maple

The contoneaster which survived, despite cat damage earlier in the year

Sunrise earlier this week

Drying chillies

Look at the size of my pumpkins!

Last Sunday I decided it was time to harvest our largest pumpkins. Matt had been letting them grow to see how big they could get - I think this is a rather macho thing to do, correct me if I'm wrong, although I did enjoy driving up the hill in the preceeding weeks and being able to spot three orange splodges from a fair distance away, and it must have got the neighbours talking (though that's easily done).

Slumbering giants

With careful manouevring - Matt rolling and me spotting - we managed to move all three across our finca and onto the terrace where Matt had earmarked sites for the largest two.


Pumpkin pixie

Sentinels. All pumpkins in place

I then got out my carving equipment and proceded to prepare the smallest, but still impressive one, for the academia. I'd never carved a pumpkin before - we did turnips one Halloween when I was in the girl guides, which I found quite pathetic, this was much more exciting.

Being sensible and marking where I wanted to cut the lid.

Success!

During the hollowing process - a spoon works best, as I discovered after almost slicing my finger off a couple of times.

The hollowed pumpkin - after much scraping and building up of arm muscles. All ready for the fun part:

Ta daa! The finshed item. Not bad for a first effort I thought.

Not only did I end up with a great, if I may say so, pumpkin lantern, but also with several kilos of flesh that I proceeded to turn into soup and curry, resulting in a very full freezer, and full tummies that evening.

Even after it'd been hollowed out it was still a hefty brute. After some difficulties, I managed to get it down to the academia on Monday morning where I set it up opposite the front door for all to see.

How to earn brownie points from the boss.

Pumpkins here are smaller and green/yellow in colour so my splendid example was remarked upon by all and sundry who passed through the door. In one fell swoop I gained publicity for the academia, was granted status of 'cool teacher' by my pupils, toned my arms and garnered enough food to keep us going for a week or so. Not bad for an afternoon's work.

Fruity

Bar my poor hammock trees, all the old ones left in the garden that have been spared culling are now producing lots of tasty fruit. We mostly have apples and pears. Out of all of them, this little fellow has been most prolific.

It's the smallest of our old trees and hasn't seemed to grow at all the the three summers we've been here. Every year, though, it drips with juicy pears.

Nice pear!

We think our apples trees were planted with cider production in mind - a safe presumption to make around here. Even so, they're very tasty as eating apples, although they go very mushy and lose their flavour if you try to cook with them. (We have a cooking apple tree on our garden shopping list for the winter.)

It was discovered yesterday that an old, ivy covered tree at the bottom of the garden is in fact a plum tree, possibly a wild one. Either it's not produced any fruit for a couple of years, or we're extremely unobservant because this year it's covered in small, sweet red plums, unfotuantely we've left it a bit too late for picking - they're so ripe that as soon as you catch hold of a branch most of them fall off into the undergrowth in the field next door. Next year I shall be prepared, a nice plum jam would go down very well methinks.

On my afternoon tour of the garden (now in full sun, hurray!) I also noticed lots of these cute little fellows. Despite the best efforts of our three cats our lizard population is still going strong, not really surprising as the young ones move incredibly fast. This one tried his best not to be photographed and it seemed he turned his head in disgust upon hearing the click when I took it.


Oh yes, I picked three courgettes today too and am currently succeeding in my objective of avoiding marrows, thanks to daily vigilance. I resorted to making a courgette and blue cheese soup with all of our previous harvest a couple of days ago, it was that wet and miserable. Now I shall have to conjure up something summery with this tasty triumvirate.

Pickled

What does a girl do on a rainy day? Well, she sorts out her onions, of course.

It was a poor crop this year due to all the spring/early-summer rain. Anything I couldn't string up went in a jar with some red wine vinegar (you can't get the malted stuff out here), dried chillies and peppercorns. Now we just have a three month wait until we can enjoy them. I shall have to keep an eye on Matt as I know he's liable to sneak a few earlier to go on his cheese butties, especially now we know where to get hold of a good cheddar.

Carnage!

Matt recently decided that several trees in our trying-to-be-a garden were too decrepit. When we first got here it was just a field partly-covered with old fruit trees that had been left to their own devices; some were partly falling over and all of them were suffering from neglect. Some heavy pruning ensued, but despite this, two and half years later, he took the decision to remove the diseased and unproductive ones - a few days ago the sentence was carried out and he brutally chopped five of them down, much to my consternation. I did plead for my hammock trees, which are very old and gnarly with not a single fruit between them, and they have been magnanimously granted a stay of execution.

Despite this recent culling, we do have the tree balance in our favour. Since moving here we've planted a mandarin tree, two figs (one green, one purple), two different types of plums, a cherry, a walnut, a mimosa, some kind of fir, a lilac and a Japanese maple, plus several shrubs and bushes. We have another walnut and mimosa, two wild peaches and two tiny plum trees waiting to be put in this winter and are planning on planting an orange and a lemon tree too.

Last year, to our great excitement, we got our first figs - just a few, but they were delicious. I love peeling away the skin to reveal the juicy, sweet pink flesh inside. I have my fingers crossed for many more this year - enough to make my figs soaked in brandy, served with creme fraiche, and if we're fortunate we may also get our first manadarins - the tree has tiny green balls on it at the moment that will hopefully ripen before they fall off.

In other garden news, I've finally strung the garlic up, something which Elbi greatly enjoyed taking part in:

The courgette count currently stands at 'lots, with more on the way' although we've been managing to keep up with them so far.