So what of the year 2022?
Today is the shortest day of the year, and, after months of drought and all the inevitable cries of "necesitamos lluvia" ( we need rain), we finally got it this month. Got it in abundance, as we had more than 6" of rain in a week - (160 litres in Spanish parlance). Now necesitamos un poco d sol. We had taken an early delivery of firewood, just to be prepared, but actually used it all up in the wet spell and are now on our second helpings (where the price has already increased by 20% in the elapsed month).There is no doubt that a wood fire blazing in the hearth (OK, glass and iron chiminea) not only looks the dogs, but also warms the whole house (eventually). G is a right little firebug and I am only allowed to add logs under supervision. When I see her wandering around with the poker in her hand, I assume she is adjusting the logs, but it could be she is intending to use it on me!
Today the skies have brightened again, and, whilst it is still a little chilly, things always look better when the sun is shining (especially when you are drinking wine, eating tapas and sitting at a table outside the Bar Niño). Life can be tough, but I am the man to take it on, especially now I have a neighbour with a similar interest in the grape. (An ex-golfing pal who has an apartment near us and who has started over-wintering here as the German weather and covid was starting to get to him).
Seems we (Spain, that is) have decided that covid is pretty much over (unless you are on public transport, in hospitals or medical facilities or pharmacies) the tourists have also returned. How can I complain about tourists when I live in the Disneyworld of southern Europe you might ask? - well, it wasn't like this when we came and no one had invented Airbnb, so living here has become a bit tiresome with the constant stream of cars and people over-running the pueblo - and the lunatics in the council are constantly trying to attract more, but without improving any facilities (well, I guess the expenses-paid trips to tourist fairs across Europe might be an incentive).
Upshot is that we are finally talking about moving on, but somehow have to find somewhere where the weather is reasonable, there is little of interest to tourists (maybe no airport for a few hundred miles would be a start) and access to reasonable medical facilities. Funnily enough I ruled out the Solway coast back in the early nineties for failing two of those hurdles!
A colleague who was in Oman back in the last century has just succumbed and sold up and moved back to blighty to live with is son - and this was the guy who, twenty years ago, was telling me how he would prefer to die abroad and never even let his ashes go back to the UK. They say time changes everything - no, it is just age that does that!
Healthwise, we have had a bit of hassle this year as G had problems with her leg which the local doctors proved incapable / unwilling to resolve. Daily visits for dressing and fortnightly referrals to hospitals only led to vague offers of an appointment with a specialist, but weeks in the future. Eventually I insisted we seek the (proverbial) second opinion at a different health provider - with an appointment then appearing within two days and an operation within the week. Four weeks later and we hope it is all sorted - with the post-op visit to the specialist this week. G is much chirpier and today even managed to put on one of her favourite pairs of shoes, so thing are definitely looking up.
I know she misses the interaction with the patients in the day centre at the hospice, but it seems they only ever talk about the day centre when they want to get money out of people. She still keeps in touch with many of the people who she met there and has become a "dial-a-friend" for quite a few of the english-speaking community.
Since covid, and with the demise of the hospice day centre, my driving duties have totally ceased, so the need for the Qashqai had gone. I decided to change both cars for a new, preferably mid-sized, one - but the salesman was trying to get me to pay 10k on top of both cars just to get a semi-electric Qashqai. I decided a smaller car was a better bet, so we just changed to a Micra - same expenditure, but we still have the (almost unused) Juke and I have a road rocket (not as fast as the name "turbo sprint" implies, but a quick little beast for all that).
I manage my health (mainly weight) with a 4 and 3 regime, whereby I diet from Monday to Thursday, then go crazy over the 3-day weekend. A sort of weekly balanc of austerity / lunacy. I have read that this sort of dieting is not a good methodology, but it works for me as I lose a little wight each week and am managing to reduce my pills. It is not all total guesswork though, as I monitor my weight, blood pressure and sugar on a weekly basis and get a full blood screen every 12 months (albeit I check the results myself rather than with one of the ever-changing doctors in the local clinic).
As we realised in our work with the patients at the hospice, it is all about quality of life rather than quantity - you just have to stay alive to enjoy the quality!.
A special bonus this year has been our new neighbours. A danish family bought the house below (no one even knew the old owner was moving, but no surprise as he didn't speak to anyone anyway) and they have now owned it for a year. Owned, rather than lived in as they use it as a holiday home (and luckily don't seem inclined to let it out). They are a very pleasant family of five (3 late-teenage kids), speak good English, enjoy their food and wine and seem grateful for the help we can give them when they are here or when it is empty. We also have a brit family on a long term rental in the house above, so it really has improved the whole atmosphere in our little group of houses.
A regular visitor has been the stray black cat who comes three or four times a day for a mouthful of biscuits. He has been neutered (ear snipped if nothing else!) and we assume he is homeless from the amount he eats, but seems to be in "pretty good nick". We can't really tell, as he will not come within 10 feet of us, and even after a year runs off if he is startled in any (trivial) way- We have never heard him utter a sound, which is pretty strange - and he doesn't respond to any puss, puss whispers or friendly overtures - but overall it is quite a good symbiotic relationship where we see and care for a cat, but don't actually have to take full ownership-stye responsibility. He has been named Rufus the Silent - Rufus (as he likes to climb on the Danes' roof) and silent for obvious reasons.
We finally cracked and had the house painted in the summer. Late spring there was what they call a "calima", which is the saharan sand taken to extremes and half the buildings in Andalucia have orange streaks to show for it. As you might imagine, house painters were at a premium, but Juan at the Niño came up trumps with a local group of guys who came and did the necessary , despite the summer heat. The delay in their being available also gave me a chance to get some cement work done in advance (painters only do bits of trivial filler) with the result that the old homestead look pretty chipper.
Brexit has pretty much passed over us now (except for those who hadn't sorted all their paperwork beforehand), but one major impact has been on the Brits who had holiday homes, who now find themselves caught in the 90-day rule. There is supposed to be an exception for homeowners, but we haven't found anyone who has managed to overcome that hurdle. Oh, and the parcel post. Nothing now passes between here and the UK without all sorts of forms and exorbitant duty charges - aggravation to the extent that it is just not worthwhile (especially as there is a final option to "return to sender" which can be used when reciprocal buggeration has been exhausted with the Spanish "Correos")
This photo was just too good to miss - new car, fresh painted rejas, sunny path and Rufus the silent - an image that is worth the previous thousand words!!
(If I had had the time, I could have added some tinsel, either in reality or with a photo filter, but time is of the essence)!
Talking of brexit buggeration, the boys at Barclays managed to really hack me off with their stunt this year when they kicked out all account holders who live in the EU. Their "helpdesk" tried to imply it was a Brexit / EU / UK issue, but the reality was that it was a financially motivated business decision. "luckily" we already had an account in the Isle of Man (something the Barclays UK staff totally failed to comprehend) so it ended up simply being a case of moving the loot from one hyperspace place to another. I only had a couple of pensions going in to Barclays, so moving them was not too stressful either. What was a real pain was trying to get the app working as the UK mob deleted it (or me from them) and it took an age to get it reinstated (cos, let's face it, who uses anything but electronic transfers these days?) - Well, actually I know one, as the SM&BP pensioners association only accept cheques. Guess we will not be joining as they doesn't seem to read their email either.
Anyway, that is a quick recap of some of 2022. We hope to toast in 2023 with a bottle of bubbly on the top balcony - and will raise a glass to "absent friends".
All the best for Christmas and the New Year
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