Grounded

Come rain, come shine. But all this water does not seep well through the clay ground. Large puddles remain glittering in the sun. We lose days before the men with their heavy machines and stones can continue their work. In the last days of October the Great Wall nears it’s predestined end. They also install a drainage tube and cover it with smaller stones.

Dia de Finados

In the meantime we are grounded by the Portuguese government. The number of Covid-19 infections is steadily increasing here, like everywhere else. And the festive season is on the threshold. November 1st is All Saints Day and in this Catholic country it is a family celebration. To prevent large gatherings we are not allowed to leave the township of Cadaval during 5 days. The weather is beautiful, windless and 24 degrees warm. Normally we would go to the beach and walk or just sit, watch and read a bit. We have no garden or balcony in our temporary house, so we really want to go out to enjoy this weather.

Buzz

For the first time we take our camping chairs to the Casa. All the way down on our land there is no building activity, no mud, but a beautiful view of the mountain and the little windmills. The oranges are slowly deepening their orange in the warm sun. You hear crickets, birds and an agriculture machine is buzzing in the distance. Today the shepherd is right there in the valley with his flock. With his whistles he urges the little dogs and directs all animals into a certain way of order. Time does not exist, we don’t have to do anything.

Twin

We retrieve our garden tools from the moving boxes in the garage and buy extra necessities in the agriculture shop. The trees on the edge of our land have not been taken care of in years. When we remove all the overgrowing weeds we discover there is a connection between two cork trees! So we own a Siamese Cork Tree. We relieve her from all the excess and let her get on with her twin tree life.

Light a fire

Like all the farmers around us we would like to burn our excess garden waste. In this windless weather there are a lot of smoking plumes. Crops are harvested, land is cleared and prepared for the winter sleep. But also for a small fire we have to request a permit, as fire and Portugal do not always harmonize… So once again we dive into bureaucracy. Or would bureau-crazy be a better word?