…the prodigal returns

Back where we came from, reluctant returnees.


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Culture shock

So we’re back. And it’s been quite the hard landing. Yes, we decided to come back, for some very good reasons. Yes, we expected an adjustment period.

But oh my god, we didn’t expect it to be quite so hard! A month later, and we are still at loose ends, feeling like we don’t fit in. You don’t expect to feel quite so odd being back in a country you lived in for over 20 years, do you?

But odd we do feel, good readers. And lonely for our friends in Spain. And missing our glorious home on the mountain. Every Sunday, it seems, I shed tears, and if you know me well, you know how much I hate to cry.

Suffolk is a beautiful county, for sure. But there are too many people. Too many cars. It’s too expensive. And too muddy. With too many rules.

It’s our fault, I know. We’ve changed, maybe too much. Family and friends have moved on with their lives, and there’s little room for us in there.

But we won’t give up just yet. Stay we will, and we will work towards adjusting and accepting, and one day we will feel like us again.

But for today, we reserve the right to be sad.


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As one era ends, another begins…

It is with much sadness, some surprise, and great expectation that I tell you that we are leaving Spain.

We made this momentous decision about a year ago. The impetus? Breast cancer. It makes you think long and hard about your life, where it is going, and what you want out of it. Kenton and I discussed this long into many nights, and decided that we really did want to be closer to family. Our granddaughters are very small, and this is the time to really get to know them. Wait till later? We will be considered a couple of friendly faces they see on FaceTime occasionally. And that’s not what we wanted.

So upping sticks we are. It’s hard. So hard. We have made such wonderful friends here, both English friends and Spanish. They all understand (Spanish truly understand that family comes first), but (knowing how much we love it here) they are shocked that we are leaving. We have one weekend left here, and there have already been so, so many tears. bye-bye

We can always change our minds, of course, as we aren’t selling the farm. We are renting out our beautiful home, farm and business to a really lovely young couple, who I expect will carry on and expand operations beyond recognition. They have the same enthusiasm as we’ve had, but … are much younger!🙂

But truly, honestly, that is not the way we live our lives, so it’s unlikely to happen. We are looking forward to a new life, with new challenges…but oh my, if only we didn’t have to leave these wonderful people…

 


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Introducing…GUS!

We always, but always, have had had 2 boxers. One dog seems to get quite lonely, and has an over reliance on the People Dogs to provide all their entertainment. Of course, 2 big boxer boys can be quite a handful, but generally, they sleep together, play together, and mostly mind their manners. Gus 1

When our dog Milo died recently, we resolved to get a puppy as soon as we felt able. We made the mistaking of waiting too long the last time, and the surviving dog went into a total grief spiral. So never again.

It’s not easy to get a puppy when your beloved dog dies. You feel disloyal, your heart hurts too much, you feel you will never again want to risk that poor, damaged heart. But you do. You do it for yourself, but mostly, you do it for the dog left behind.

So to cut a long story short, we found a lovely group of puppies, hand reared by a lovely couple. They had both the mother and the father, which was nice. It was hard to pick a puppy (why not take 2, says Kenton – ah….no, says I) but pick we did, and, 3 short weeks later, he owns us good and proper!


As the world turns…

I just noticed my last post was February, naughty me!

To be honest, I just haven’t had the heart for it. It seems to have been another one of those difficult times at Casa Tyr — is it just a getting older thing, and we can expect shitty circumstances from here on in? Or is it just another one of those things, a run of bad luck? My optimistic head says it’s the latter.

imageWe’ve had a bit of a bad run lately, for sure. Cancer still seems to be everywhere. A good friend has had his cancer return, and that felt like a punch to the gut. I feel strongly that we need to be there to help them through he difficult treatment times ahead, but here we are in Spain. A friend’s 39 year old wife recently died, leaving a husband and small daughter behind.

Our oldest dog, Milo, had a brain tumour which took him very quickly, after a couple weeks of mysterious symptoms. Our dogs are so much a part of the family that this is always hard, but Milo was something else. Smart as a whip, he joined us the year my mother and Kenton’s dad died — it truly felt like the only bright spot in a very black year. So he was special.

And yet. We have beautiful granddaughters to cherish and love. A friend’s son has a new baby. We have a new puppy for Freddie to play with. Our beloved nephew is coming to visit. Our summer garden is looking very well (gardening always makes me feel better). So bright spots that show, as Manuel always says, that everything, good and bad, is part of life.

The title of this blog? A reminder of my childhood days, when my mother would listen to her “soapies” as she cleaned. I particularly remember “As the world turns”, for its constant round of horrible events in its characters’ lives. I found it funny then, less funny when it happens to me and mine!

 

 


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It’s tater time!

They’re here, sitting in my greenhouse, gently sprouting. But they know something up, because I go in there every day, to check on progress!

Their big day is coming up soon, the day they (along with lettuces, onions, garlic and most brassicas) are planted in the garden. But not yet, little fellows, first the ground must be prepared for you, so you will have a nice home for a few months.

potatoes 2014

last June’s harvest

Then, come June, it will be time for me to get really excited, as it will be time to dig the harvest, ready for winter!

Friends, if you like to grow vegetables, but think growing prosaic items such as potatoes just isn’t worth it, think again. Once you’ve tasted the depth of flavour in home-grown, you’ll never go back.


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Another year, another Christmas

Isn’t it scary how fast time passes? I remember my mother saying

the older you get, the faster time goes

which, of course, I thought was absolutely mad!

It turns out (unsurprisingly) that she was right. Don’t you remember those childhood days, laying on the floor and staring up at your family Christmas tree, just aching to have those days until the Big Day pass more quickly? How slowly the days of school went, yet how quickly the summer holidays passed?

And now, time seems to go so quickly. The days, weeks and months whiz by. All of a sudden, I’m a year older, and it’s almost the end of 2015. Last year this time, I was pretty miserable, as I had 2 chemo sessions during the holidays – and wasn’t sure what state I’d be in come the next Christmas.

xmas 2015

Way-hey, it’s Christmas!

But here I am, ticking along, doing well. We have our friends’ goodie bags all ready to delivery this evening, and all the gifts are under the tree.

I feel so thankful to be here, to be healthy, and to have my darling husband and funny boxer dogs here to hug and cuddle me. I have a great daughter, a fantastic son-in-law and 2 perfect granddaughters to give me purpose. Hopefully in the future we’ll be spending every Christmas together, which is about as good as it gets.

Merry Christmas!


Changing times

It’s harvest time in Yunquera! The sound of tree shakers reverberates throughout the campo, and you see men setting the nets, or preparing a campo lunch, everywhere. As you drive by the cooperative, you see canastas full of olives, ready to be pressed. It’s a comforting sight – money in the pocket in time for Christmas (if you sell your olives), and your family’s olive oil barrel full of delicious golden oil for the coming year.

When we first moved here in 2003, the mills wouldn’t even be open yet. Why? Well, it was customary here to pick olives when they were all black, which sometimes would be as late as February. This made for olive oil that was golden yellow, and very smooth and soft tasting – the taste that was preferred in Yunquera.

olives

Harvest 2015

We were thought odd, as we would pick the first half of our crop in mid-December, then the second half after the New Year. We preferred an oil that was fresher and slightly greener in taste, so picked when our olives were half green/half black.

This year we have noticed a huge change. Our olives are picked and pressed already – the entire crop picked in November, the earliest ever! I’ve seen loads of farmers doing the same, and the canastas at the mill are full of (mostly green) olives.

Why the change, we wonder? Is the price for olives better this year, so farmers are picking early to get the best price? Is it that farmers here have finally recognised that those buying their oil now prefer a ‘grassier’, greener oil? Is it that local tastes have changed in line with this global preference?

I don’t know, but to me, it shows that even in a remote village like Yunquera tastes and customs regularly change !