Spanish round-up

A quick photoshoot of our time in Spain.

Let’s start with the winter jasmine – in its full glory. It looks so delicate and abundant and smells delightful.

But not to Adelina next door. ‘Me molesta,’ she said. ‘Are you going to cut it down?’

Er no Adelina, it only flowers for a few weeks a year and we like it. We didn’t even plant it, the previous owner did. It’s a bit like the smell of our neighbours’ washing which gets hung out on the terrace, it isn’t exactly my favourite but it isn’t there all the time, just like the jasmine.

Now, where was I before I got distracted? Oh yes. The locust. I need JB and his mum or anyone else to tell me if this flying monster is a locust.

‘Mire el cigarrón! Matalo!’ said José when he spotted it on the olive tree. He says that about most things.

We didn’t kill it. I picked it up and took it over to show Adelina but she nearly had a heart attack. It was even worse than the jasmine.

I let it go and it sat on the step. Then it jumped to the gate.

When we got back to Gib and the internet we looked it up and figured it was a locust. Hope I have some plants left when I get back!

Although, if it wants to eat the spider plants it can. They are nothing but weeds I have discovered. Plant them in the ground and their wretched tuberous roots take over the place. This is clearly why the Spanish plant them in twee little plant pots. They are pretty drought resistant too, presumably storing all the water in those invasive fat tubers, so they need little attention. That was one of the reasons why I had the bright idea to stick some in the walled garden. Until I discovered how far they spread once they got hooked in.

Marguerites are also weeds in my opinion. They provide a good splash of colour for a large part of the year – until they default back to white of course – and if you don’t cut off the millions of dead heads, they reseed all over the place. So all the little seedings came out too. I don’t want a garden full of big daisies.

We had our usual walk around the beach and gazed at the lovely finca which is everyone’s dream buy for around £40,000. It’s owned by a Scandinavian embassy – I don’t think they would be selling it for £40,000 somehow even in these times of recession.

And we finished the sitting room. Finally. Rehung the paintings (Turner prints) and the mirror.

Some food – looks like another paella….


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