Happy Birthday!

Life is tough and then it gets so much better. Work over and off to dinner with the girls to celebrate Gony's birthday. There we sat, surrounded by luxury yachts, the full moon shining down on the Med in the company of old friends and enjoying excellent food. What a way to end the day. Then down to the hot bar area where we sat underneath the swaying palms and shared a bottle of cava in this truly wonderful cooler that shines from within and changes colour. If it had fit in our handbags we would have taken it. The evening only spoilt by the 20-year-old waiter saying "guapisimas" every time he came near the table and wasn't dribbling over some ridiculously dressed, skinny and incredibly good looking girl. I almost clobbered him with my sensible middle-aged handbag. A lovely evening... and a lovely prelude to my birthday, finished off with me holding a sparkler while we all sang Happy Birthday - and the wonderful thing was that at this age we just don't care who looks at us and if we make fools of ourselves - the only thing that matters is that we are enjoying ourselves tremendously.

It's been a while, I know

It's been a while I know. I've been meaning to get back to writing this blog but have found all kinds of reasons not to. Today, though, in a five minute break after a stressful morning, I've decided to write a few lines.

My son's field hockey team are immersed in the regional play-offs for the national championships. It's serious stuff, and not for the weak-hearted.

Yesterday they played against the team from Cádiz and beat them, with difficulty. While their match was being played, the chaps from Madrid and Alicante arrived. They were HUGE. Real men, not young teenagers. At least they appeared to be, but they're not of course, as all players have to hand in their IDs with their birthdate on it - Even so, they were big and strong and we are having to bring in lads from the younger teams as we just don't have the personnel.

Beating Cádiz yesterday was a psychological plus.

Today our lads were up against Alicante who won against Madrid yesterday - so a lot of pressure. Our team played, what was for me the best game I've ever seen them play, and the drew 2-2. Boy did we, parents and friends, suffer. But the score much better than we expected. Bonzo played so well, I swelled up like a mother hen. He was impressive, but the effort took its toll and at the end of the match he almost fainted.

We spent a memorable half an hour or more in the changing room with me supporting his legs in the air while The Artist first fanned him cool, then rubbed him warm as he lay on the floor trying to get down a sugary drink. He was all over the place poor guy. Finally, he felt better and we came home, where on his request The Artist conjured up a mouth-watering paella, while our hero had a long shower.

Fully fed and restored he's now gone off to chill out with the rest of the team while they plan the strategy for tomorrow's game. I'm quite frankly exhausted!

Last night us mums, known as the Veteranas, had our weekly field hockey training session. We played a full hour on a half-field pitch which brought lots of complaints from us girls but our trainer wasn't hearing them. I didn't sleep at all well because I hurt all over. It was exhilarating and I can tell I'm getting fitter but boy this morning I felt I'd had the stuffing beaten out of me.

More tomorrow. If our team wins tomorrow, they're off to Zaragoza next week to play in the national championship - my nerves are shot to pieces!

Feliz Navidad!

Cinderella Sunday - Whinge, moan, grumble and complain

Sunday morning, early - most other people are still snoring, but not me, I’m listening to my washing machine proudly announce the programme I’ve chosen while loading the first of three washes. A brief interlude, of coffee and chat with The Artist before he leaves to spend the day painting for his December exhibition, and it’s back to the grindstone.
What feels like the rest of my day is spent in the kitchen cooking for the next few days, hanging out washing, bringing in washing, mopping the floor, dusting, organising news items in preparation for our usual Monday deadline rush, and oh joy, I still have a little free time to iron.
Am I complaining? Of course I am. Like anyone else I’d like to spend the day slothing over a Sunday paper before easing myself out of the armchair to sit down to Sunday lunch, followed by an even more slothful afternoon in front of the telly, sewing – whatever….
Still – I don’t have to walk three kilometres to get water, we eat every day … and there is free medical care available 24/7. So I shouldn’t complain, I know. I should find the positive side to this situation and change my mental chip. But I don’t want to – I want to have a 46-year-old paddy and throw myself on the floor and yell it’s not fair.
Not a good example to the kids I know.

And having got that off my chest – I must leave you and turn my attention to a hot drier which is giving the finishing touch to my still damp washing before I tackle the ironing. Do I know any men who spend their Sundays like this? And if not – am I stupid? Rhetorical questions – so no replies please.

Bugsville, Spain

Soon to be a view of the past

Sadly the wildlife outside in the garden doesn't just rear its ugly head in spring. Today I killed a small scorpion by the rubbish bin. I didn't enjoy it but I decided that I wasn't up for a reunion inside the house. Shortly afterwards I came face to face with my first, and rather large (5 cms or so) red palm beetle, weevil, mite or whatever, clinging to one of my new curtains. It was a soul-destroying moment. The Artist claimed he had seen one two weeks ago in the garden but I hoped against hope that he was mistaken. However when a neighbour told me she had found one floating in her pool, I resigned myself to the fact that I am going to lose my palm trees. Today this new sighting has confirmed my fears. The whole of the coast and inland is suffering a real plague of these destructive little b**gers as they suck the life out of palm trees before moving on to fresh pastures. So, here in their honour, before they start to lose their wonderful fronds, are two of my three palm trees.

The culprit

Awesome view from hilltop hotel

QUITE a breathtaking view and so was the road to get here, just above the village of Tolox, with sheer drops on one side and deep ditches on the other. Incredibly on the horizon we could see a darker blue patch and the more we squinted our eyes, the more convinced we were that it was the sea - some 50 kilometres away. It has been a magical day, full of shared memories and experiences to put away in our treasure box and bring out to relive again in the future. Getting away from all the drudge and responsibilities was energising. We've decided that we need to take to the road more often.  Click on the photo to make it bigger if you want to enjoy the view.

The Artist recharges his batteries

How relaxing green is. Looking across the mountainside at the pine forest we could see the afternoon sun searing through gaps in the foliage to touch the ground. Grey green mixed with yellow green, blue green, dark green, light green, green turning orange - sunlight turning one tree several different greens, shady green, shadowy green, bright sunlight green. From a distance they all make up one green mass but like everything, when you look closer, the subtle differences come forward and become obvious. Like everything in life, it just depends on your point of view.