Relative Something

Portugal, Wednesday, September 29…

With a plan to go sight-seeing with Carlos this afternoon, we jump into a chore early. The temperature has been dropping enough overnight to have Ian thinking about collecting firewood, so we drive up the hill to cut some eucalyptus. He works the chainsaw as I carry the cut sections and load them into the Forester. It is not an easy task on the steep incline. The pitch is made even more treacherous by the fresh leaves of the branches we are trimming, which are very slippery. While I am hauling, I need to keep one eye on my footing and one eye overhead for the timber Ian is methodically bringing down.

Earlier, before we started our project, Ian showed Cyndie where there are camellias in the greenhouse that need to be divided into individual pots. While we were getting firewood, she groomed the horses, finished her basket by adding a handle, and worked on potting camellias.

We pushed ourselves to our time limit, and then hustled to get cleaned up for lunch in Celorico at the cafe where Ian usually gets his midday meal. It was a nice treat to share that experience. Ian was able to point out other diners he had come to know and describe the work they did. The cafe is popular with laborers employed nearby, for its hearty meals. We start with the classic soup of Portugal, Caldo Verde. Bread is already on the table. Then 2 choices of entrée, pork and potatoes or red bean goulash. Ian and I order the pork, Cyndie, the bean dish. The salad is served family style, lettuce, onions and tomato with an oil/vinegar dressing. The serving sizes are very generous and the atmosphere delightful. It is a very enjoyable experience for us.

We head back to the farm and try to hustle the horses down to the bottom field. Apparently, rushing doesn’t work so well with horses. Ian heads out with Lucy without waiting for Frida, and Cyndie has trouble controlling Frida’s zeal to catch up with her momma. Frida breaks loose of Cyndie’s grip and rushes off to chase down Lucy, wanting to suckle. It appears the weaning wasn’t quite complete. There will be more time required for that, it seems.

Once all the horses are down, we head back to Celorico to meet Carlos…

On Wednesday, we got off the farm in the afternoon and played tourist again. I’ll tell you about it next time I claim some time to write. I seem to have fallen behind a bit here, so I’ll fill in with this photo of us in front of a vista of groves and forests, some burned, on the small mountains of northern Portugal. The writing I did in my journal while on the trip contains a lot of shorthand and doesn’t read so well. I’m finding I spend a bit more time than I anticipated would be necessary to clean them up and make them ready for posting. There are just a few days of our trip left to describe. I hope to get back to the rest of our story real soon.

Portugal, Tuesday, September 28

In the morning, Cyndie did some knitting as I wrote my journal. It is just a brief moment of the day when we are idle. As the sun is appearing over the ridge, Cyndie gets dressed and heads out to tend to the horses. She says she will wait for me for breakfast. By the time I make it around, she is only part way through the process of cleaning the stables. She takes pause from the task to join me just as Ian is coming out, so he picks up where she leaves off. After our breakfast, we decide to go shopping. Ian chooses a different route to Celorico, and I am able to spot Machado out with his horse again, so we stop to visit, allowing Cyndie the chance to meet him. Once again, he has constrained his horse for training, and despite being a beautiful animal with interesting markings and a strong healthy looking body, her eyes convey a sadness that reflects the way she is handled.

The supermarket Ian brings us to is smaller than the one we visited last week. We find everything we want except the meat Cyndie was looking for and some aspirin for her troublesome hip. Next stop is a Chemist (Pharmacist) but Cyndie comes right back out, saying there were 10 people in line. Then we drive to a butcher shop for meat. There isn’t any product in the display counter, so there will be no ‘sight buying’. We are told the mincer isn’t functional, but Ian is able to explain what we want and the woman opens the cooler door, steps in where the meat is hanging, and cuts off a piece. She graciously cuts the selection up into cubes for us.

After that, Ian drives us to a second Chemist and Cyndie is successful finding aspirin, using her Spanish to communicate. Then we stop by Carlos’ to check about plans to go up Mt Graça on Wednesday. Ian runs in while we wait in the car, but then Carlos comes out to say hello. Cyndie and I want to buy Ian new zinc scoops for use pouring measured servings of grain for the horses, to replace the brittle plastic scoops that appear to have a shorter life-span. We first saw one at Carlos’ that he uses for his horses. Since we were already in town, it seemed like the time to take action on the plan. We describe our idea to Ian and he says he will need to run back in and ask Carlos what the scoops are called in Portuguese. It serves to remind me that, for the most part, he navigates life here using a second language. We walk to the hardware store and Ian speaks to the clerk, only to receive a stare and then the reply that they don’t have what he is asking for. After some additional communication, it is discovered that, even among the local people, there are different words used to describe things. It turns out, they have just what we want and we finally complete our shopping expedition, fully satisfied.

Back at the farm, we put away groceries and then Cyndie starts work on lunch as Ian and I make a trip down to the spring to prune the old olive tree and water the new plants. Cyndie prepares a spectacular lunch of parmesan chicken on noodles with a fantastic tomato sauce that she created from scratch with no instructions. She also baked chocolate chip cookies which were something Ian recognized, but couldn’t remember a name for them.

After lunch, we give the horses baths by tethering them in the grooming area, one at a time, and washing them with soap and water. They all seem to appreciate the process. After being wet, they are walked for a while to allow them to dry before putting them back in their stable. That process takes most of the afternoon and as light was getting short, we bring Cassius for a walk to show Cyndie the spring garden we had planted.

Cyndie makes soup for dinner and then I presented a slide show at Cyndie’s request and we finish the night watching all the pictures she had taken thus far.

Monday, September 27,  continued…

Ian and I had decided to take some trees down to the spring and get them planted, while Cyndie was creating lunch. We selected a batch of camellias for a hedge and a Rowan, or Mountain Ash, to get started.  The planting was very inspiring and both Ian and I wanted to do more. I saw a spot that deserved the weeping willow tree that was growing too big on the edge of his shade house. It was competing for space just outside Frida’s and Doll’s stables. It made sense to me to get the tree out of the way there and now we had a wonderful new destination for it.

That seemed to inspire Ian, and we added a small fig tree that was rooting right next to the willow anyway, and then a magnolia tree and two little silk trees. The biggest chore was actually breaking the willow roots free from the tangle they had grown to, in the shade house. They had grown down through the black fabric of the floor and out and around a long way toward the horse stables. It was a big deal to get all the roots extracted and I felt extra pleasure to be accomplishing this phase of the project. It was a double reward to have the space opened up, and to have a new precious home for the tree.

We put the trees, tools and bags of manure in the back of the Subaru, the bulk of the willow hanging out the back, and off we went again, armed for a good bit of planting. It was wonderful to collaborate with Ian and witness his creative eye and intelligent sense of plants. We would dig in a spot we wanted to plant, in hopes of finding good, moist soil, then pour in water and manure and set the plant. A little dirt backfill, a topping of manure and one more bucket of water finishes the planting. I began placing stones that had tumbled down from the old wall of the path nearby and we had a very nice little garden created around the spring. It unfolded really nicely and we were able to get a significant start on a pretty special space that afternoon. It was a real highlight for me.

When we returned, we found Cyndie in the driveway with a table set up and quite an impressive project of basket-making in progress. I was very, very impressed with her ingenuity. I have witnessed her thrive here and it is thrilling to see her creative energy and interaction with horses in full bloom.

The next task that needed to happen was getting fresh cuttings for the horses to eat, before we bring them back up from the lower field. Ian used the power tool to cut, and I raked and packed bales into the Forester. Up on the hill where he was cutting, Ian realized he hadn’t showed me the mine shafts that had been dug, in search of water many years ago. He said it is the way they used to do it. There are apparently 3 in the area, and none of them found water. I was duly impressed. It seems rather high up to be searching for water, but it must have proved successful somewhere in the past for them to work that hard in such a search.

Once finished cutting, we stocked the stables with food and it was time to bring up horses. I volunteered to watch the things on the stove for Cyndie while she went down with Ian to get the horses. They surprised me by bringing up Doll and Sebastian first. Those were the two horses ready to go, so Ian decided to grant them the honor this time.

Cyndie said that while she was cooking dinner, Cassius suddenly attacked Shelly violently and she had to use a chair to separate them and then banished Cassius to outside. They were okay while I was on watch of the soup on the stove. Apparently, Cyndie was pouring salt in the soup when the fracas erupted and so dinner became a high sodium event. Wow, was that soup salty! Too bad, because otherwise it would have been great chicken soup. Her fresh-baked bread was an additional treat.

I was covered from head to toe in dirt and dust, so Cyndie let me head down to shower while she finished the dishes. It was a very rewarding day. Cyndie had forgotten to bring the adapter cable for her camera, but I was able to transfer her memory card to my camera in order to download her pictures, so we watched a long slide show review before we turned in for the night.

Portugal on Monday, September 27…

Once again, we woke at the usual time, just before the sun pops over the ridge that fills our view outside the window at the end of our bed.  Also, once again, I used the morning hour to write in my journal about our trip. While I was writing, Cyndie ventured out for a walk on her own. She climbed to the high point and took some pictures, then collected eucalyptus bark with a plan to make some kind of basket.

By the time I popped out of the cottage door, I found Luis was already here working on tasks associated with the wine process. He also needed to reclaim the grape squishing machine for the harvest of his grandmother’s grapes. Ian helped him load it into the Subaru and was going to drive him to deliver it. It occurred to Ian that we wouldn’t see Luis again before our departure at the end of the week, so he kindly alerted us, providing opportunity to say our goodbyes. I had brought a pocket multi-tool on the trip, one I also carried on my trek in the Himalayas. Something moved me to want to give it to Luis, as a remembrance of our visit. It seemed to me that he could put it to better use than I. Ian took a picture of Cyndie and me, arm and arm with Luis. Later, Ian pointed out that Luis had shown up this morning wearing pants with pockets on the side, similar to mine. He thinks it was in emulation of me. I guess I can live with that, but if he starts to grow his hair long, I’m going to get worried.

Stephanie and Victoria packed up and departed for their responsibilities in Porto, leaving the 3 of us to settle into our now familiar routine. Ian decided to water “the park” and I accompanied him on the task. Cyndie started to make bread, then set it out to rise and went to the stables in hopes of grooming horses, and possibly to ride. The horses didn’t seem interested, so she changed her plan and sat down there to weave eucalyptus.

Ian and I returned from watering and found Cyndie’s bread rising in the sun, while she was over in the shadow of the shade-house, weaving, as the center of attention for the horses. It created a magnificent vision, like so many others we enjoyed throughout our visit. It is hard to express how often the experiences in which we became engaged, proved to be the very picture of our dreams for this trip, and more.

One in particular involves a certain spring garden. Planting near the spring that Ian and I uncovered the week before was just what we had in mind for our next task…

Sunday, September 26, continued…

Poor Stephanie was full of grief over the death of Tiddles, and the dark cloud of loss blanketed the hearts of all of us as we went through the motions of having lunch. Discussion of trivial things seemed callous and hollow. Victoria had prepared a signature dish of seafood and rice for us that was unfairly overshadowed by events. We soldiered on and set our sights toward the plan for the afternoon.

The Rowcliffes were going to drive us to see the birthplace of Portugal and the historic castle there. That meant the horses needed to be moved down to the bottom field before we left. It took some doing to get Frida’s lead rope hooked, but once that was done, Ian and Cyndie walked the horses down. Then Cyndie quickly changed attire and we packed into Victoria’s car for the drive. It was about an hour’s drive away to Guimarães. We took a self-guided tour of the incredible historic castle there, walked down to see the chapel, and then over to the statue of Afonso Henriques, the first king of Portugal.

It was an interesting contrast to find ourselves transported from the blissful serenity of the farm, into the public locale busy with tourist traffic. We walked down some of the quaint cobblestone-paved narrow streets that have buildings right to the edge, and strolled out to a public square that has cafe seating and a street musician entertaining. We found a table and paused for food and drink at tea time.

During a pleasant exchange of conversation in which Cyndie is offering reasons Stephanie should consider visiting us to check out Minneapolis film schools,  I make a major faux pax blunder by referring to our empty house (thinking about our kids having moved out), mentioning I finally “got rid of our cat.”!! I catch myself, but too late, and apologize right away for such an insensitive comment. A bit of my remorse is tempered by Ian and Victoria’s immediate response, revealing their understanding and good humor, as Ian immediately remarks, “Fawlty Towers,” and Victoria says, “Adolph Hitler.” (A reference to “The Germans,” one of the most popular episodes of the BBC sitcom.)

We arrived back at the farm just before sunset. Immediately, Cyndie changed shoes so that she could assist Ian with bringing the horses up. Doll and Sebastian were mischievous and didn’t allow Cyndie to get Lucy’s harness on, even though Lucy seemed interested and willing. They chased her away. We needed to wait for Ian to arrive, and then even he had difficulty directing Doll and Sebastian to back off and let Lucy and Frida go first. Eventually, we succeed with our plan and once the horses are up, Cyndie and I excuse ourselves to the cottage and give the Rowcliffes some evening time of their own.

I try to do some internet posting, but the connection is slow this night, so I give up and go to sleep at a decent hour.

Sunday, September 26…

We didn’t really sleep-in all that much this morning, but we lounged for a bit and I took extra time to write and banter with Cyndie. When we headed out of the cottage around 9:00 a.m., we wandered over to the horses and spent time there, feeding them and mucking out their stables. Ian wandered down and joined us in the task. I noticed that some critter had been pulling food scraps out of a gap in the compost bin and pointed it out to Ian. He said the bin had completely blown apart from a wind gust and he had never quite gotten it put back together all the way because he was considering moving it. Then the girls started refilling it with compost, so now it was existing in a partial state of assembly and being used regardless. I did some digging and was able to push the sides back together again, so hopefully the scrounging animals won’t continue to make a mess of things.

We went up to the house for a little bite of breakfast and Ian sat with us to visit. We suggested that we wanted to take a walk, as Cyndie hadn’t yet seen all the far reaches of the property that I have been enjoying while working with Ian. After checking with Victoria, he said it would be best if he did an errand with her and we go explore on our own. It was a beautiful day and we took a long, slow tour, taking a lot of pictures with both our cameras. At the high point of the property, we could see over to the spot that had been burning the day before. It was still smoldering, and we lingered for quite a while, to be sure it wasn’t an uncontrolled fire re-igniting.

We walked down to the spring Ian and I had uncovered, and then around to the old cork tree, and the moss-covered stones. From there, it was a short distance up to a display of rocks I had stacked, then back down to the camellia gardens, following them around, backwards from the order Ian and I had watered them a couple of days before. That led over to the orange trees and then we climbed the double-sided stairs to the ‘gazebo’ with the marble table and pedestal seats, where I sat to pose for a picture. I sensed it may be getting long for us to be off on our own and that they may be wondering about us, so when we neared our cottage again and I heard voices, I assumed they were checking for us. I called out an “Ola!” and the reply I received from Stephanie was the most dramatic shock imaginable… “The cat is dead.”

What a blow that was. Just a short time before, on our walk, Cyndie had said it was the most precious moment she was feeling so far, to be getting the full impact of the beauty and wonder of this place all at once. To go from that feeling and then be thrust into the tragedy of the unexpected death was really something dreadful. Victoria was trying to talk through the mystery of possible explanations and Stephanie was full of despair. When Cyndie approached, in her own disbelief, to confirm what she was hearing, Steph handed her the dead cat.

Meanwhile, Ian was driving their car around the property, searching for us, wanting to retrieve us for lunch. Victoria said he didn’t even know about the cat yet, as they had just discovered it themselves. I wanted to relieve him of his search, but I didn’t want to wander away to find him, as I would risk always being a step behind. Then I heard his car, down below us on the tier of camellias from which we just had climbed, and I flagged him to reveal our location. I had the unfortunate task of reporting the news and witnessing his reaction of shock. It really caught us all by surprise and seemed to have occurred unexpectedly quick. Without hesitating, Ian dug a hole where Cyndie had placed Tiddles the cat, and in an instant, the animal was laid to rest.

There is a dramatic void created by his passing.

Continuing with Saturday, September 25…

After a really pleasant lunch break, it is back to picking grapes. I settle into the role of carrying tubs of grapes back to the winery to dump through the squishing machine. Carrying these loads is a significant effort that has me expending as much energy as one of my morning soccer games. After Luis arrives, and Victoria and Stephanie join the effort, it becomes a challenge for me to keep up, collecting the contents of all the bins and walking the distance back and forth to the winery. The farther down the rows of vines they pick, the longer my trips become.

Over time, additional guests arrive, some of whom join in picking grapes. Cyndie runs out of strength for the task of picking and excuses herself to lie down and stretch. Shortly after that, Stephanie asks me to let Cyndie know that it is tea time. I notice that Francisca has changed from her work clothes into something nice, so I stop in and give Cyndie that update. She indicates she will rally and appear. I turn back to the miscellany of tasks with Ian as we move from picking the last grapes to assisting Luis with the next steps toward get them pressed.

After a bit, I step back in our cottage and find Cyndie ended up going to sleep. I let her sleep for a short bit, but then worry that she may sleep too long for a nap; plus, all the guests appear to have gathered for treats and our absence may seem conspicuous. I roust her and change out of my disaster of a tee shirt, even though the rest of me is still sticky-dirty. I don’t find Ian in with Luis anymore, so I head round to the main house and find him on the porch with all the fixings from tea time still on the table, but all the folks gone. He says they have gone down to see the horses. He and I snack a bit and he gives me a lesson on three modified ways to say thank you in Portuguese. Then Cyndie comes up, looking wonderful and ready for an event. She joins us for a brief bite and then she goes off to find the crowd while Ian and I get back to supporting Luis.

Later, Cyndie and Stephanie described quite a threatening situation down in the field of horses with the large group of adults and children. The horses became nervous and it wasn’t apparent that everyone was aware of the situation. Cyndie and Stephanie worked together to avert a total disaster, and prevent injury to either horses or people. It made quite an impression on both of them.

Meanwhile, Ian and I are doing everything we can to keep things progressing as Luis applies his knowledge. Unfortunately, there is one mistake that requires going backwards in the process and consumes a fair amount of time. We struggle to assist Luis in the difficult task of removing the squished grapes from the press to re-orient the walls of the device. We had not fully centered the outer pieces before he started filling it. Suddenly I realize the guests are coming in to say good-bye, and I’ve hardly said hello to them.

In a blink, it seems, it is dark and evening is here. There seems no time to eat, and poor Luis hasn’t had a break all day. We are now committed to this project that must be completed all in one day. Stephanie stops in with treats for Luis to take home as a token of appreciation for his extra efforts. When we finally reach a point that can be called done for the day, it is almost 9:30 p.m.

Ian and I head up to the house where Cyndie, Victoria, and Stephanie have been waiting. Cyndie had baked banana bread and Stephanie served some dinner for us, and we sat for a few minutes in their kitchen together to eat. Ian looked pretty pooped. Even though the banana bread wasn’t ready to come out of the oven, Cyndie was trying to get us free to go to bed and give them their house back. She recruited Stephanie to watch the bread for ten more minutes and we said good night.

It was a very long day. I just wanted to get out of my trashed clothes and take a shower. I ended up spending a bit more time than I intended processing a few pictures and posting on Brainstorms before turning in for sleep around midnight. Long as it was, it was a one of a kind day that I will cherish forever.