We can already eat grapes at the father-in-law!
I feel fascinated with these tons. The gray clouds are so fluffy. They invite to gathering.
The sun was gone and so were the clouds and we'll have a hot and sunny day tomorrow. The autumn hasn't arrived yet, despite the grapes.
We finished with a vernal table. It was a colorful day, to cheer up what was dark.
We went to gather onions in my father-in-law's. It was the only thing he planted this year. The weather, the land, the long cold and unwillingness didn't help and we had no tomatoes, green beans, pimentos, potatoes, cucumbers, melons, watermelons and so on. I miss those smelling and tasteful tomatoes so much!
But we have onions, since the soil is good to them here. They are still small. I picked one up just to try it. I love the taste of freshly aliments. It tastes like new and fresh.
These remain from the last year. They're still good to make soup.
The late is falling. We were having a good chat, sat on the front door step. Quiet. It was a quiet day.
The sky was being painted with beautiful colors while we were returning home. God is a great artist.
We could see the moon from the rear.
An airplane clew line marked the sky, competing with the clouds that seemed like shreds.
The moon was rising, announcing the coming nigth. It was chilly outside. Time to come inside and become warmer.
We can't see the smoke or smell the aroma spread in the air, but the freshly brewed coffee is always a comfort. It's cozy. As it was the day.
This ws our dawn today. Cloudy and chilly. Delicious. My men were still in bed. The smallest one was tired with the swimming-pool on the previous day. The biggest one was tired due to the heat which didn't allow him to sleep conveniently. Sunday morning, many people take the chance to lie in bed until later. And I was there. It seemed that there was nobody else in the world. How reinvigorating this atmosphere. I love the mornings and all they promise for the new day that is born.
The sun came later on. With its entire splendor. We went to Pepe (a cafe) to eat an ice cream. It was full with people, because there was the Good Sounds Festival in a village nearby. There were many young people there with long skirts, piercings in every visible place, artistic tatoos, long braiding and curly and fuzzy hair. All very alternative. But they all seemed nice. Tired, but nice.
I don't use to look to the ceilings. But I did, today. It was less confusing than down here. It was a good morning, a nice lunch and a quiet afternoon. It's always good to live this way...
So many flowers! So many colors and so many smells. So colorful, my way.
When I was a little girl and used to see these fields of ferns, I had the desire of falling over them because I had the illusion that I wouldn't hurt myself upon such a smooth carpet. I still have this dsire but I don't do it, of course. First of all, because I would certainly hurt myself; secondly because, although I've never proved it, people say that this is the ticks paradise; and finally because I'm an adult and I have limits notions. Adults are no funny at all!
I found this nice. I think that it announces a wine cellar around there, but it captures our attention, definitely. Those who want come and serve themselves! And in this profusions of poeple that come from distant lands searching for deserved holidays, many will be the candidates to a little cup of wine. Our emigrants are here. They speak French or the language where they come from, but we feel that they feel good here. Despite so many vices, ours is still a country full of virtues. Long live the fatherland.
We still can see fountains with fresh water around here. There is one where I use to fill my bottle every week when it's hot. It tastes so good...
Another abandoned house. This is a big one. Maybe it has belonged to some rich families. Who will be the next? Who will continue the story of this house? Someone who preserve its sould, please.
This is an inhabited farm with agricultural activity. The surroundings are lovely and we fancy getting in, since the gates are always opened. There is a fountain in front of the main entrance with this tiles panel. I feel proud by being Portuguese.
This is my job. No, it's not the agriculture. These are the places where I am doing my surveys. I wish I could show here all the nice faces I see, all the colorful courtyards, quiet gardens, embroidered curtains in the windows, old stuff that their owners reuse. But I don't feel comfortable invading people's privacy, so I just show here what is possible to me.
I wish I had the knowledge to catch all the tones I see. The sunshine, the green tons, the strong cllor of flowers. Even the odors, if possible. Each season has its characteristic smell. And this one, beyond the dry grass, has the smell of sardines and barbecue. I wish I also could pass the sounds. The children's laughs that are in holidays now, the families chatting around the luch talbe in the porch, the splashing in the water. I saw a girl today that, as she had no swimming-pool, was in the terrace putting her head inside a bowl with garden hose gushing water over her. When I said good afternoon, she raised her head and burst out laughing. Caught in the act, she was ashamed and I was happy with her simplicity. It's easy to be happy.
My work is done in its majority in towns, but also in rural areas, which I most love. I see beautiful farms and fantastic landscapes. And I seem many abondoned houses. This is not the most beautiful one, but we can try to imagine what kind of lives had passed here and what kind of situations had been lived here.
I can't blame, cand I? Of course, my job has its disadvantages like any other, but there's no doubt, I prefer to see the good side of it. And the positive aspects are so many, that I really feel blessed at work.
Here is the well, where are held the buckets. The buckets are bid and became my son's ocean, where he fishes, irrigates and invents thousands games. Just need to dive!
The ladder where he learnt his first climbing notions! It's so old that it just stands with his weight.
The laurel getting dried.
Old stuff...
The seeds shelf.
The trap to catch birds...
The cage to put them inside and wait until the grand-son comes and watches them closely. And then he sets them free.
Another old ladder. This one still stands with my weight. I use it to pick the higher figs.
I still remember when chickens and rabbits lived here... All built my my father-in-law.
It rained inside home last winter and it was needed to change some tiles.
This is where we put the trunks to saw, keep them together in its proper place and then take some to light the fire place in the winter. It's so good...
One of the many fruit trees. My richness knows the name of almost all of them. He's so smart.
There it used to be my husband's bed-room,
My husband didn't resist leaving his personal touch to this space. It proves that the type writer still works. And we could see my son all excited around all these objects. In a time when the map doesn't work anymore, only the GPS; the television looses value against the computer; the temperature doesn't matter when you have air conditioning, etc., all this was magical. He was running and jumping around while his grand-father was explaining how all worked.
My mother-in-law loved to make bags and pillows.
The album of memories of an era that doesn't come back anymore but that was lived intensely.
This stereo doesn't work anymore. But my father-in-law doesn't loose the hope of finding a needle that allows him to hear the old vinyl as well as speak english fluently again, because the old english course, with books and records, is still waiting for a new life.
Furnishing itself, speak of a time.
And so many things remain to show. So many...
