Well I’m better. Helen, Theresa and Norma all came round for Sunday lunch, but I did the sensible thing and bought in ready-cooked food from place in the next village. I had to ignore them all and have a siesta afterwards, but apart from that I was OK, and I spent some time with Norma updating the Ruido website. By Monday all I had was the ocassional twinge, so I managed to update my own website and spend some time sorting through the hundreds of photos of poppies I took in Franceses on Wednesday.
On Tuesday morning I went into town to help Helen and Theresa with some paperwork. We successfully got their bar codes from the Tax Office, but failed to get their electricity turned back on. We tried again in the afternoon, and still no joy. Luckily they’ve got a small solar panel up and running, which produces enough for LED lights. In fact they’ve got an awful lot done in less than a week.
On Wednesday I could have done with multiple clones of myself. I’d promised to go see Helen and Theresa, and I wanted to see how they were getting on, and to translate for them with the neighbours. My friend Farida went down with the lurgy I’d had, only worse. I was all the more anxious to visit since she’s been rather neglected while I helped Helen and Theresa, and I managed to fit it inbefore I went north. And the Tourist Office emailed to say they want the “proofreading” finished by (appropriately!) Friday 13th. Actually it’s more editing than proofreading. Mostly it’s a question of turning
Potatoes, bananas and avocados are the most grown products in the municipality. In the past, potatoes used to be the star product until subterranean springs were dug in the 60s and the coastline started to be home to banana plantations.
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The main crops are potatoes, bananas and avocados. In the past, potatoes grown at medium altitude were almost the only crop until subterranean springs were tapped in the 60s which provided irrigation for the banana plantations which now cover so much of the coastline.
But every now and then there’s a word which takes hours to translate. On Tuesday it was “dornajo” which I couldn’t find in any dictionary. It turns out to be a Canarian dialect word from trough. And I still have 50 pages left out of 120.
So I felt guilty going off to Franceses, but I had a good time. Their cat, Tabby, is has got over the shock of moving and loves having a garden. We had a salad lunch because cooking is still rather complicated, but it was delicious. We cleared a few vine prunings and I pointed out what a sweet potato plant looks like. Then two neighbours came passed with a statue of the Virgen Mary which apparently is going round the houses because it’s Holy Week. To an atheist who started out as a Protestant, this seems a little odd, but it’s certainly a beautiful little statue.
Oh drat, I could have saved you hours over the dornajo. We have one just yards up the lane – where I go to get water.