Living in Spain, warts and all

How White is my Valley

In the last few days the temperature here has held out at a beneficent 26-28ºC.

As we have been working outside the barn on the landscaping that we’d planned to do once the kennels were open, John has been wearing shorts and nothing more. He is currently carrying off a fine impersonation of a certain crustacean after its proteins have been denatured. Personally, I allow myself neither that degree of exposure to the sun’s rays nor to potential small predators with lots of legs (a spider bite too far), so I’m still a normal flesh colour.

During the whole of last night I tossed and turned, able to sleep only fitfully due to the thrum of heavy rainfall and the intermittent blasts of gusting wind. This morning I arose to snow. A thick and crisp layer underfoot, fat flakes falling densely, temperatures stuck firmly at 0ºC.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The two youngest dogs, Saphi and Suki, are having a ball – they have never seen snow before but are lovin’ it. They are racing up and down the 50m length of their garden, diving head-first into the drifts and coming up shaking, biting at the falling crystals, their tails wagging furiously and grinning from ear to ear. Qivi, who as a husky should also revel in such weather (you’d think), has retreated to his bed in their large corridor-kennel and is packed full of disinterest. Marcos, being half elephant, half beached whale and half something doggy, only ever moves for food and found out within moments that snow isn’t much fun on the palate.

John, now fully togged in several layers of thick clothing topped off with a North Face jacket and heavy-duty hiking boots, is in and out as I type, cursing purpose-bought snow chains that are fighting back as he attempts to fit them to the car tyres. Without some assistance, we are unable to drive the car from its parking spot at house level up the steep drive and further on up the camino to the rim of the valley. But we need to get out – today was planned as a food shopping day and we need most essentials.

…………….. Apologies for a long pause, but our electricity supply kicked off at that point and has been absent, along with our internet connection, pretty much all day. We did manage to make it into town for some shopping, but found that the whole of Bullas was also suffering electrical outage, and so our supermarket was peopled only by staff lurking inside closed doors, unable to serve as tills were down. The snow continued to fall until mid-afternoon, and temperatures stayed supine at freezing point, so we still have a thick white cover outside.

Clara managed to trudge through it all from Juan-Fran’s house to ours, bearing a large apple cake for us. I am beginning to fear for my waistline as a direct result of our apprehension of her thieves! Speaking of which, Clara informs us that they were not imprisoned. Apparently, on the day of our road block, they had come away from her mill empty-handed, since Juan-Fran had moved all remaining steel to safety before-hand. They were not, therefore, caught red-handed, as it were.

She tells us that they were, in the end, fined 90€ each for carrying false documents.

Next time, this’ll be us:

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Comments on: "How White is my Valley" (4)

  1. . . theer oh theer! How do you espect to integrath into your hoth communithy with suth an athituth? (thory – ith dithicuth to speak with the thung in the cheeth) 😀

  2. That’s the trouble with thongs, eh, Alan? They get stuck in your cheeks 😉

  3. Oh that has to be so aggravating! Let’s just hope that the story of la senora loca gringa has gotten around such that thieves will be stearing clear of your finca from now on.

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