The Longest Night

Lightening up after the nightmare before Christmas

Hasn’t that last week before Christmas been such a rush to get things done?

Writing cards, last minute shopping, bulldozing holes, lowering septic tanks and digging pipe ditches.

It’s just one thing after another, eh?

That familiar shovelling of freshly fallen sand to make sure the tanks are level, spaying a few kittens, and writing letters to Santa asking him to bring us doors and windows for the new buildings as soon as he possibly can after the festive rush...please...that kind of thing.

Silent light: a December sunrise in The Valley of the Stars

But the typical Christmas morning scene of a dad struggling to construct that amazing but flat-packed gift before the kids get bored with it, came early for me this year with a solar water pump kit.

It was an exciting present to unwrap: there was a wooden box to prize open – with a cardboard box inside – and lots of solar panels and metal struts to play with...and loads of strange looking pieces.

Imagine Ikea meeting Meccano with the extra excitement of live electricity...but with no instructions. What could possibly go wrong?

Despite the common grumble “there’s obviously a piece missing” there were actually a couple of pieces missing.

That’s one thing to kick off my Christmas list and into the long grass until the remaining aluminium struts make it here from Spain some time in 2024.

The panel are quite live-y, if only things were known: of all the stuff that was in the box, no instructions made me frown.

It’s a stressful time for everyone, but I think we hit peak stress on the shortest day of the year...or perhaps I should call it the longest night.

Last week’s Bad Day rolled into a week and seemingly unresolvable problems started piling up.

---

---

Bureaucracy, a bloody-minded builder and the continuing saga of the unpolished concrete people (and their poop) generated the majority of the hassle, but there were plenty of other things besides.

We had grand plans to take the black plastic covers off the Big Bar on the hill and serve mulled wine to the neighbours while talking them through our building project, but we had to bail out of that one as our Christmas to-do list overtook everything else.

No crib for a bed: the little small kittens went vet-ward instead (not terribly enthusiastically)

Getting the kittens done was a high priority because there are a lot of storks around here (if you know what I’m saying) and we had the jitters about two new litters courtesy of Senhor S. Claus and his delivery.

We took them down to the Algarve where that kind of thing is a lot cheaper, but then achieved very little during our race around the shops except for a nice lunch and for Ana to lose spectacularly at Wham-ageddon (I mean it was a particularly tough year to get through the whole festive season without hearing Last Christmas at least once).

We did manage to pick up a few gifts for our favourite workers and the best present ever for our neighbour Daniel.

Daniel loves wine in a box – and there are some great box wines in Portugal – but none of us had ever seen anything like this before.

It was a TWENTY LITRE box of Amália red (named after Amália Rodrigues, the famous Portuguese fado singer), and as Daniel’s eyes widened, we insisted this wasn’t some sort of Christmas challenge.

Kilmer’s claws are coming to town: she knows when you are sleeping, she knows if you’re awake, she knows if you drink red or white, so have red for goodness sake

Sr Manuel the contractor received a bottle of Comendador (meaning commander...we felt it was appropriate).

Last year we gave our builder Justo a bottle of good red wine and he thanked us, saying he didn’t really like red wine and preferred to drink medronho, the powerful locally-made firewater.

This year we got him some whisky for a change. He thanked us, saying he didn’t really like whisky, but loved medronho.

Next year I suppose we’ll get him some medronho, but then he probably only really likes his own medronho.

Ana explained it was my dad’s favourite tipple and we suggested he try it with water com or sem gas, but it’ll probably go in the cupboard with last year’s red wine.

Three wee things on our-hillside are; the digger dug and carried them far.

With everything very much getting on top of us and time fast running out, we were delighted to accept a lunch invitation from friends Niels and Sybille to deliver some of Mauro and Rita’s amazing wine we’d agreed to carrier-pigeon for them from Lisbon.

It was a “quick lunch” but what an amazing lunch. Wild boar cured ham followed by pulled wild boar sandwiches with homemade sauces, home-brewed beer and hand-crafted wine were just the antidotes we needed to survive the shortest day and prepare us for the longest night.

Old King Wencles last pigged out on the beasts of Niels’ gun (sorry…that was a bit of a stretch)

We’ve slipped into the annual pattern of heading early to bed with the darkness closing in, and early to rise with some spectacular sunrises.

(Although I must say we are lucky in southern Europe to have more sunshine than those up here in the north).

Exercise has taken a bit of a back seat, which also contributes to the stress of course...but we did manage a walk to see this year’s display of daisies.

We had far more luck getting Simon the Hollywood dog to pose among them than we did with Garfunkel, who just didn’t understand that we wanted to feature him on our Christmas greetings card.

Herding the cats was never going to work, so we decided it wouldn’t be fair on the others for Simon to take all the glory, so this is what we decided on...

“It’s beginning to look a lot like…Spring here…everywhere we go”: weird, but we’re not complaining

Yes, that’s blue sky; yes, it’s been 17 or 18C (and perhaps a little more) all week; and yes, this is the nearest we’ll get to a white Christmas in the Valley of the Stars.

But in Sweden to see Ana’s family and for more...erm...cosier times...amid the darkness, the cold and the crisp, shiny white snow…for now at least.

It’ll be a nice change to enjoy a northern European winter and we’ll be back soon enough to relieve Daniel of his animal sitting duties and to see in the New Year with some sunshine.

Oh, hole-y might, The bucket’s nicely mining…

The shortest day/longest night was probably the lowest point of our year, but it’s only going to get lighter from here on in...and that’s a lovely thought to ponder over some pickled herring, as the building site falls silent and the digging machines all go to sleep.

I do hope Father Christmas brings you what you asked for – whether it’s doors & windows or a build your own solar pump with instructions manuals in clearer Spanish.

We’ve certainly got large enough chimneys for the big fella to climb down next year, but for now:

May your days be merry and bright,

And may all your water tanks be right…

AND FINALLY...with a nod towards Shane McGowan (RIP), here’s the Portuguese version of the Pogues song Fiesta...courtesy of Despe e siga from 1994.

For those non-Portuguese-speaking listeners, Casal Garcia is a well-known brand of affordable vinho verde wine...