Lockdown Log in Mallorca – Day 33

Wisteria in bloom at Alfabia Gardens (photographed in a previous year). A spring sight that few will see this year.

Really? Day 33? I would never have imagined spending such a long time at home and going out only once in all that time. But here we are, Easter already over, and halfway through April. With the lockdown in Spain likely to be extended to almost the middle of May, this will surely be known as The Lost Spring.

We have a list of jobs to done around the finca and I’m itching to get on with them, so that there’s something visual that we can look at and say, that’s what we did during the lockdown. But Spanish tax returns loom and The Boss is mired in paperwork and spreadsheets. Must start gathering my own together soon.

Meanwhile, I’ve been making impressive (for me) strides with The Novel. Well, it was about time, as I had the idea for the story when I moved here in 2004. Much has changed from the original storyline, but I think that the long gestation period has been beneficial – and the writing of it takes me temporarily into a world where there’s no COVID-19.

By this evening, I should have reached 51,000 words. Only another 30k or so for that first draft to be done. Say it quickly enough and it doesn’t sound too bad.

A New Chapter for Chico?

People who know me may guess that cats feature in the story. And one of our cats – Chico – features in this latest blog post. And sadly it’s not good news: Chico has been missing for a week.

Chico was one of the second litter of ferals born to Jetta in July 2011 and, unlike his siblings, he’s always been wary of us (and any other humans). We’ve never done anything to hurt or scare him (except take him to be neutered when he was a kitten and old enough), but he’s always the one who waits at a safe distance until we’ve walked away from putting his food out. He’s also nervous of having his photo taken and, because of that, we have few photos of him.

Yet, he’s also been happy to sit in our dining room window recess, as long as we’ve ignored him, and spent most of the daytime snoozing somewhere within sight of the house.

We have no idea why he’s so nervous around people but have witnessed that, of all the cats, he is the one who’ll chase any ‘outsider’ felines who dare to intrude on his (shared) territory. Bravery lurks within.

Plenty of Questions; No Answers

It is nigh on impossible to look for a lost cat in open countryside – especially as we’re in lockdown and not allowed to go out of our property except for shopping etc. Losing a cat, in whatever way, is always upsetting. What’s happened? Are they lying injured or sick somewhere? Have they found a new home? Too many questions and no answers. All we can hope is that he’s safe and well on his solo adventure.

Here’s a coincidence: Chico’s departure was exactly two years ago to the day that our beautiful Beamer – the alpha male of the glaring – disappeared. Beamer was adored (visibly) by his siblings (and us). He enjoyed being around us when we were outdoors and loved to be fussed. But he still disappeared. As has Chico.

Could it be something to do with the arrival of spring? A touch of wanderlust inspired by the rebirth of Nature? For Chico, it’s not so much The Lost Spring, as lost in spring.

Be brave, Chico, and come back one day if you can.

 

Jan Edwards ©2020

Lockdown Log in Mallorca – Day 15

Here we are in rural Mallorca, just starting Spain’s extended period of lockdown, which was made official last week in Madrid. We’re now confined to our homes for another 15 days.

Ah, was it only two weeks ago that we believed (or hoped) that we’d be free today to go for a Sunday morning walk and coffee by the Mediterranean Sea? We were either wildly optimistic or a bit naïve; I’ll go with wildly optimistic.

Our optimism may have waned a little since then. Will it really all be over on Easter Sunday? Maybe. Probably not.

More to Stay Home

The Spanish government has announced tighter lockdown measures relating to working outside the home.

From tomorrow (30th – where did March go?) until April 9th (the 10th being Good Friday, and a public holiday), only those working in the following sectors may  leave their homes to go to work: foodstuffs, pharmaceuticals, healthcare, veterinary, opticians, hygiene products, the media, fuels for the automotive sector, tobacconists, IT and telecommunications vendors, pet food, internet vendors and dry cleaners. Banks will also remain operational. The service of motor mechanics will not be available to the general public, but restricted to freight vehicles.

I can think of a few creative friends who live in the centre of Palma and usually work from home. They will be relieved not to hear the constant noise of construction workers renovating nearby properties.

Home Thoughts

Whatever, we’re grateful for still feeling well. And well fed. I’ve never done so much baking in my life. The Boss did the weekly supermarket shop again on Thursday – list in hand and official documents at the ready in case he should be stopped by the police. I still have not left our property.

To counter all the extra carbs we’re scarfing down to keep our spirits up, we’re now settling into our daily exercise routine of stomping circuits around our field. This morning we encountered this chap out for his own exercise:

Doing his own (slow) circuits of our field

The Fruits (& Vegetables) of Mallorca’s Land

The highlight of last week for me was finding a home-delivery service for fresh produce. We usually buy our fruit and veg in a little greengrocer’s shop adjacent to the produce market in Manacor. We’ve shopped there ever since we moved to rural Mallorca but are not going into town at the moment – for obvious reasons. But we still want to support local producers.

Mallorca has a surprising number of local businesses offering home delivery services during this crisis and some online research revealed one that’s perfect for us: Terragust. All their produce is grown on land surrounding Manacor, our nearest town. Deliveries are only in the Llevant area of Mallorca. Terragust also organises some interesting events related to local agriculture and we attended one of these last year. You can read about it on my other blog here, if you’re curious.

On Friday – D (for delivery) Day – I was like a kid at Christmas. I couldn’t have told you if I was most excited about the prospect of a box of freshly picked vegetables arriving at home, or seeing my first human being – other than The Boss – in the flesh (clothed, of course, and gloved). And keeping his distance.

Santa Claus (alias Matias from Terragust) brought us a harvest-festival-worthy bounty of vegetables and fruit, and a loaf of home-made bread, for just 15 euros – including delivery. At least I won’t have to make any bread for a day or two. Whenever I have a spare few minutes (who thought there’d be lots of time to relax during lockdown?), I browse through my Delia Smith Vegetarian Cookbook for recipes to make the most of some of this bounty.

It’s almost lunchtime and, yes, we’re having a big healthy salad. This afternoon I have more biscuits to bake.

Stay well.

-oOo-

An Italian friend in Mallorca, whom I met through my Mallorca Sunshine Radio show ‘Table Talk’, sent me this video this morning, which a friend of the songwriter had sent him. I found it very moving (a few tears were shed) and hope you enjoy it.

 

Jan Edwards ©2020

Our Cats in Mallorca

Yes, we still have cats, even though you won’t have read much about them lately (although there are occasional sightings on my mallorcajan instagram page). Our feline family now numbers six and, if you’ve read about our cats in previous posts, you’ll realise we’ve lost two. It’s heartbreaking when this happens.

We were devastated in April 2018, when Beamer – the alpha male of the outdoor cats – disappeared. This beautiful big black-and-white boy went off one day and didn’t return.

The evening before he left, he was sitting on the low wall separating our back terrace from the garden and seemed to be sniffing the air. Was he curious to find out what was beyond his territory? He’d always been much loved by his siblings, who came to him for washing, approval, and sometimes a bit of play. Perhaps he’d had enough of the constant attention from them?

We’ll never know what happened to Beamer, but it was out of character for this eight-year-old cat, who spent a lot of his time close to our house. Of course, we searched for him – as far as it’s possible to look for a lost cat in what’s a natural environment of open countryside and scrub vegetation. I spent many months last year hoping he’d stroll back onto the terrace for his food one day. I was convinced he’d come back but eventually accepted that he was gone.

In late July last year we had to say goodbye to our beloved Birman, Minstral. As they say in cricket, he’d had a good innings, being twenty-one years old at the time of his demise. We’d adopted him in the UK and brought him to Mallorca with our rescue Maine Coon, Smokey – who sadly died of leukaemia in our early years here.

Minstral was on medication and diet food for the kidney problem that often affects older cats; he’d been the most chilled-out cat we’d known, but let us know when he’d had enough. Twenty-one is a good age for a cat in Mallorca and our vet hadn’t seen one of such seniority at his practice. We brought Minstral home and buried him alongside Smokey in the garden. We had him for 17 years and I miss him every day.

Had we lost another?

What a yawn! Those teeth are made for nibbling

Nibbles – one of Beamer’s siblings, younger by just four months – is The Boss’s favourite of our cats. Despite being of feral origins, Nibbles likes to jump onto his lap and play the affectionate card for a few minutes…before living up to his name and nibbling any body parts he can reach (usually a hand).

On his eighth birthday (July 31st), Nibbles came for dinner as usual – but limping. He wouldn’t let us examine his paw and leg, and it was too late to take him to the vet’s that night; we set up a blanket in a box under our porch and placed food and water right next to it, so he wouldn’t need to venture far.

“We’ll take him to the vet’s first thing,” The Boss said.

Nibbles might have heard us say that: in the morning he was gone. We didn’t see him again for eight days and wished we had captured him and taken him into our house for the night. For a few days, The Boss scoured the countryside for him, even venturing into the jungle that is our valley-within-a-valley for the first time in many months.

“It’s impenetrable down there,” he said when he returned, defeated, sweaty, and covered with bits of vegetation. With temperatures at the time in the high 30s, we feared that Nibbles wouldn’t survive the heat if he couldn’t at least drink. An air of sadness and helplessness hung over us.

On Thursday, August 8th, we attended a start-of-the-grape-harvest party at a local winery. It was a fun evening, which proved to be a brief distraction from thinking about Nibbles’s likely fate.

The prodigal puss returns

Our cats were waiting on the terrace, as usual, for our return. They must recognise the sound of our approaching car and time their arrival to coincide with ours. The Boss will often top up their food bowls at this point and, whilst he went indoors to fetch the cat chow, I stayed outside.

One of the cats was standing on our solar-powered fountain, drinking from it. I thought it was Chico until I realised that the leg markings were those of Nibbles. He was home and, although still limping, had survived the heatwave. As we hadn’t seen him for a week, he had probably conserved his energy by limping to the terrace for food and water at night, when the heat of the day was gone. I scooped Nibbles into my arms and was holding him when The Boss emerged from the house, carrying the box of cat food.

“Look who’s back,” I said turning around to face him. We were overcome with joy at seeing this much-loved cat again – but disappointed to see that he was now walking on only three legs.

Nibbles spent the night indoors this time and, in the morning, we took him to the vet’s. He hates the car and howled all the way there and back. The vet diagnosed a bite on his leg, gave him an antibiotic injection that would last fifteen days, and prescribed anti-inflammatory medicine for us to give him each day.

He’s still indoors and has become quite the home cat – so far showing little interest in the outdoor world and plenty of liking for sitting on soft cushions and having food and water within a few paw-steps. He’s now walking on four legs, albeit still with a slight limp; by the end of this week, Nibbles should be back outdoors with his feline family. Domestic life will return to normal. As normal as it ever is when you live in rural Mallorca and have a semi-feral feline family.

Jan Edwards ©2019

Poppies popping up – but not on our finca

Rural Majorcan poppies

A blaze of colour, although the farmer probably didn’t appreciate the invasion of his cereal crop!

Poppies seem to have been late emerging this spring on Mallorca. Perhaps it was because of the huge amount of rain that fell on the island over the winter months?

I love poppies and was keen to plant some in the garden, imagining a future scene reminiscent of Claude Monet’s famous Poppy Field. A welcome gift of California poppy seeds was liberally sewn over the small patch of our garden that has more than an inch or two of soil.

Lost to the lane

Last year a few of these seeds did grow into poppies but, this year, we haven’t had a single one in the garden. However, the wildflower-strewn verges of our lane have become home to a few that are more West-Coast America than rural Mallorca. Ho hum. Well, this is a breezy island…

A touch of Monet on Mallorca?

Elsewhere in rural Mallorca poppies are having a field day (pardon the pun). On our way back from an appointment in the town of Sa Pobla yesterday we spotted a particularly colourful field. I didn’t have my camera with me, so the image is courtesy of my iPad. And there are quite a few similar displays of poppies elsewhere on Mallorca…just not in our garden.

Text and photo Jan Edwards©2017

Merry Christmas from rural Mallorca

DSC_1207

This photo would have included either Pip – the latest kitten to join our feline family – or Minstral, our elderly Birman. But they both declined to pose in front of the Christmas tree for the camera. Well, they do say never work with children and animals . . .

A Merry Christmas to you and thank you for reading Living in rural Mallorca during 2014. Feliz Navidad, or Bon Nadal, as they say in these parts.