Backwards and Forwards

The storks we used to see every day when we lived at the Padre's, I do miss that; I do not miss the frigid temperatures inside his stone cold house. The yellow window was where we washed the clothes and the railing where we'd step round all the dog poo to hang them, don't miss that either. Or having to navigate round the huge and angry pig to get to the washing machine.

(Mind you, I woke to find half the washing I did yesterday, scattered round on the damp ground, muddy and torn; presumably a puppy that occasionally comes here. Annoying.)

This was the view when I was coming from the market to join Mike, who was at the Padre's doing various drilling jobs; he's preparing the ground floor to host a group of couples who are coming for the big celebrations. All round town, folk are painting, cleaning and sprucing their places up for the influx who are already arriving.

We'll be going to Lisbon again on Thursday to fetch our visitors, who are coming from Texas.