We are pleased to say that we have now finished pruning the olives. We got an olive pruner in to do the really tough stuff. To quote Mark, 'he used his chainsaw like a paintbrush', and over three-and-a-half days he transformed the olives into manageable trees. The pruning was interrupted by windy weather and rain, making it too dangerous for him to climb, so the work could not go ahead on consecutive days. Whilst the olive pruner was taking down the branches and trunks that had become too old to be productive, Mark and I cleared the debris into piles of prunings to be dealt with at a later date. I would recommend this gentleman wholeheartedly and we will ask him to come back next year to carry out a lighter pruning.
|Before: we had let the trees get too tall and they were either unproductive or the fruits were difficult to reach.|
|After:Yikes! A promise of harvests to come?|
After the pruning, Mark and I were left with about 20 piles of 'rastrojos', olive prunings, each measuring approx 1.5 metres high by 3 metres wide, that needed to be processed in some way. Most local farmers burn theirs. You need a permit to burn (which we have), issued by the Town Hall and valid until the end of March. Various guidelines are set out on the permit, including size of fire, size of clearance around it, times of day to burn and weather conditions (i.e. no wind). We had already had a couple of small bonfires to dispose of the prunings we had previously taken off by hand from some smaller trees. The heat coming from these little fires was so great that they were visibly smouldering two days after we had left them. However, as it had become windy recently, we felt we were going to struggle with getting through a schedule of burning all the rastrojos before the end of March.
To add to our apprehension, there had been 3 quite serious accidental fires on the other side of town, in the direction of the town of Lanjaron. People were evacuated from their homes and one of the fires became dangerously close to a butane and propane deposit at the BP gas station (that is where we buy our bottled gas for cooking and hot water). According to the provincial newspaper 'Ideal', the fires had been caused by 'negligence'. Someone had had a bonfire on a day when there was no wind but then the wind got up speed whilst the fire was still smouldering and blew hot ashes onto the surrounding countryside, which was very parched and ignited. We didn't actually see the fires although a very dirty yellow cloud appeared in the sky above us and there was plenty of activity from the forestal defence helicopter. From the various discussions that took place on the days that followed, it seems as though the fires really shook up the community.
|Here's Mark getting ready to fire up 'The Daddy'|
Olive logs left to season. It would be a waste to chip this, we can burn it to heat the home in a year or two. There are going to be quite a few piles of logs stacked up around the land!
|Almond wood from a dead tree, ready for the fire.|
Whilst enquiring about chippers ('biotrituradoras') we also invested in a coarser chain with more rugged teeth for the chainsaw. That will make shorter work of any dry almond trees we may need to tackle. As a result of our activities, we are learning some very unusual Spanish vocabulary, words that I didn't even know existed in English.
Despite the sudden recent chill, the almond harvest looks as though it will be OK. The trees have finished flowering and the young fruit have set very quickly, even with the petals still attached at the side:
We have had a very nice diversion recently as our eldest son came to spend a week's holiday with us. We picked him up from Malaga one morning and we stopped off in the City Centre (again), this time to visit the Alcazaba (the Moorish fort) and Gibralfaro (Malaga Castle) which sits above the City. The panoramic views of Malaga City are beautiful from this elevated position.
|At the Gibralfaro (you don't get grey squirrels in Spain)|
|One of the Moorish water features in the Alcazaba, being struck by a taser beam|
|Another Euphorbia (I have been told)|
|Poqueira valley village with snowy peaks of Sierra Nevada behind|
We also went on a new walk to add to our list. We drove to a village up above us called Soportujar, famous for having been a meeting place for witches several centuries ago. From Soportujar, we followed the GR7 to the village of Canar and back again, a four hour walk. It was a fairly easy walk, except for the climb out of Soportujar village which is the steepest track I have been on so far whilst walking in the Alpujarran villages.
|Witchy water feature in a square in Soportujar.|
|Looking back at Soportujar from the mountain track. |
The road can be seen below snaking its way along.
|Looking back on Dique 24|
|Out for a ramble with the Mister|
|Arriving at the village of Canar|
|A walk wouldn't be complete without passing a goatherd, a shepherd and being tasered|
|Janet and John|
Sad to see our visitor go, we left Almeria and headed back to our cats and vegetables waiting at the house......
|Peas in February|
|Carrot thinnings, mange tout and spring onions|
Last weekend, our 6 year old tomcat, Bobby, caught his first rat which he brought into the house for us, as cats do. His self-esteem has been elevated by a mile due to his newfound status of chief ratter. Not that he has any competition from the others, who are far too old and disinterested in such activities. I wondered if he could work out why, every time I walked past him for the following few days, I gave him a pat on the head?
We picked up our olive oil from the mill in return for the second batch of olives we had taken: another 10 litres of oil for the store. When you return to the mill, you have a choice of oil or money in return for your crop. Basically, if you want cash it works out that you get about 50 cents a kilo. It's clearly a hard living if you're an olive farmer for real.
A neighbour of ours recently organised for 10 mailboxes to be positioned at the bottom of our track on the main road, and we have one of these in our name. So now, instead of having to go into town to collect our post, we can just wander 2 kilometers down the track with the key then back up again! Just imagine going all that way only to find there is no post!! In actual fact, I am delighted to have this purpose to take myself on a lovely walk from the house. We can still receive mail in town and we will change over to this new address over the course of the year.
We have been busy clearing an area before the builders come to do a bit of finishing off (more of that in a future blog). Amongst the things that needed clearing, there was a cubic metre of launa, grey clay that is used to cover the traditional flat roofs. All our roofs are in pretty good condition, but in order to 'lose' this material, we chose a roof that looked a bit thin in places and had a few weeds and spread the launa on top. I had the easier job by far, raking the launa out whilst Mark transported and lifted 70 or 80 bucketfuls up to me until all 1000 Kgs had been shifted.
|On the roof it's peaceful as can beeeee...|
And there the world below can't bother meeeee......
Let me tell you now!
|Looking down on launa roofs in on of the mountain villages|
|Gorra de bruja (witches hat) chimneys|