By Margaret Brown features@algarveresident.com
Margaret Brown is one of the Algarve Resident’s longest standing contributors and has lived in the Algarve for more than 20 years.
After so much rain and the lower paddock continuing to be squelchy underfoot, a few windless sunny days had worked wonders among local country dwellers.
Not the human kind still struggling with log fires and damp, but birds and insects unseen since late autumn.
With the house surrounded by a rampant growth of wet grass and clover, and Millie the shag pile bitch taking a shower every time she went outside, we called in our man of all trades.
After a close shave by mowing machine, the place looked transformed: unfortunately a layer of cut greenery was left in situ and, sticking to the dog’s trouser as well as our shoes, has gradually found its way all over the house.
For several days, three Hoopoes have been dibbing among the stubble for insects and we have high hopes that they will nest on our land. They favour nooks and crannies to be found in dead trees of which we have several.
With brooding habits designed to deter intruders, the female and her nestlings are able to produce a foul smelling liquid from a gland near the base of their tails. In addition, at six days old the chicks can direct a stream of faeces at any predator foolish enough to stick its head inside the nest.
As a result, their favoured nook ends up smelling like an unwashed abattoir by the time the fledgelings take wing. Belonging to the family Upupidae, of which fossils have been found dating back at least two million years, the present European Hoopoe is the only living member of its genus, the remainder having become extinct.
Not so the sparrows and pigeons, which seem to breed exponentially year on year. Apart from their mess, they are a delight to watch and ensure that, however dour the day, there is always something going on among the trees and bushes.
At the moment, we are blessed with a larger than usual number of white Wagtails. Without fail, when we drive to or from the house, a couple of these trim little migrants will be bobbing about feeding among the grit and stones. Unaware or unafraid of the car, they wait until the last minute to take flight, swooping close to the ground before peeling away to land with bobbing tail on the grass nearby.
Meanwhile, a group of about 40 Azure Magpies that was roosting in a stand of eucalyptus alongside my office has just taken off at a fair old lick. They were being bundled along by a bitter east wind, which during the past two days has put an end to the false spring of last week.
This may be the reason that several large Centipedes have taken refuge indoors, the first wriggling from beneath my pillow as I prepared for bed. Our house being on the damp side, it is an invitation to hide out somewhere dark until the weather warms up, as the Boss found while taking a shower.
One came slithering out of the plug hole and surprised them both, while another was strolling about in the hall. Because this insect can bite and inject poison from a modified first pair of legs, it is best handled with care.
As for the house, we keep a dehumidifier running a lot of the time and use the extracted water for car screen washers and radiators; also for a steam cooker in the kitchen, our untreated tap water being unsuitable because of the high mineral content.
We have sunk two boreholes on our land, the first being destroyed by a strong earth tremor about 20 years ago. The water in each case was tested and the results showed a high concentration of calcite as well as other less desirable minerals.
Coincidentally, this morning, two men in fluorescent yellow jackets came to our back door, having parked a large tanker half way up the drive. They were from the Lagos Câmara department of Águas de Portugal, the Portuguese authority for the control of water systems including the treatment and disposal of sewage.
One who spoke a little English said he was looking for ‘Margaret’. “That’s me,” I replied, then remembered that in Portugal one’s Christian name is often mistaken for a surname.
Because there are four Margarets within a half mile radius, this took a little sorting out until we were shown the relevant paper work.
Light dawned, and the Boss gave them detailed instructions on how to arrive at the designated property, which is hidden by trees and well off the beaten track.
It is six years ago since our fossa was cleaned out by a private operator and at considerable expense. With the sanitary squad on our door step, it was too good an opportunity to miss, so before they left we obtained all necessary details about how to ask for the same service from Lagos Câmara.
Simply fill in an application, pay in advance and in the fullness of time, a tanker and crew will arrive to pump us dry. Without a doubt, the Câmara operatives will make a better job of it than the last lot. Their suction pipes dribbled sewage from every joint, leaving a foul smelling trail that entertained the dogs for several days and filled the air with an odour of hydrogen sulphide that reminded me of the gasometers of yesteryear.
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