Further to my previous blog I thought it would be good to let you know what part we play in this annual gathering. We undertake to collect the carobs that have fallen down in our courtyard, a rather posh term for a crumbly walled area, the area in front of our terrace, affectionately called Fernando’s Hideaway because Fernando built it, and from the tree that’s in the back of the chicken quarters. These we then bag up and give to our neighbours and they are always amazed that we don’t charge them, goodness me and when I think of all the produce Esmeralda brings to us from her vegetable plot, well field really, I couldn’t even think about charging them.
I squat down with my bag and start to collect the carobs and when both my hands are full, it seems to trigger something in Toppy. She leaps to the fore and starts to give my face a good old slobbering and no amount of telling her to stop will make her cease her mission, to cover my face and hair with slimy slobber. Carobs drop from my hands and through grungy eyes I find the direction she is attacking from and lurch forward to grab her. I’m never quick enough and she slinks off to lurk about until her next chance to catch me unawares with that big sloppy tongue of hers and yes I’m certain that she is laughing as she makes her escape.
I set myself a target; I must collect all the carobs that have fallen down in the courtyard before I go in for the evening. Plink and ping I hear them dropping. I look around for Toppy she’s not in sight so bending down I start to collect carobs. Hooray I’ve picked them all up, but wait did I hear another click as one releases itself from the tree and hurls itself downwards. There it lays in triumph, my obsession to meet my target compels me to pick it up and put it safely in the bag. I start once more to the door when a gust of wind blows several of them down, damn and drat more to pick up.
I’m gripped in the spell of my own making but I don’t know the magic words to break it. More carobs descend and by now the mosquitoes are about but I still can’t leave until I’ve met my target. I hear the door opening and there stands my husband, who I’ve always thought of as a bit of a wizard, he opens his mouth and breaks the spell I’ve found myself under with these immortal words “I’ve just poured a G&T for you”. Shasamm the spell is broken and I gratefully enter the house and those carobs that fall will stay on the ground until I give myself another target. My ears prick up did I hear another click as yet more carobs fall, I look into my glass and with a smile slowly spreading realise it’s only the ice cubes chinking away.
To be continued, well perhaps……………