don't confuse the narrator

be careful what you wish for

telephone cables — not exactly a wireless connection

Where British Telecom users often say ‘Telecon’, Spanish customers of Telefónica refer to the company as ‘Timofónica’, and I suppose most other national telecommunications companies have similar nicknames.

Currently, I’m debating whether the situation is best described as tele-non-communication or being tele-incomunicada.

A fortnight ago, the router was destroyed by a mains glitch during a storm. Well, we weren’t actually here when it happened, but that seems the likely explanation as some hundred routers round the village needed replacing.

Then we had high winds and the internet connection kept waxing and waning and eventually the phone line died completely.
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a perfect pear

We may not be growing such good grapes as the previous house owner did, but the pears this year are magnificent.

Writing the post title – and remembering that this blog was originally intended to include poetry as well as random thoughts – I was reminded of Dorothy Parker’s One Perfect Rose.

Over the years, I’ve received my fair share of bouquets of flowers – though never (yet), I think, long-stemmed red roses – so I, too, wonder why no one ever thought to give me “one perfect limousine”.
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a wee warning

I went to a modern art exhibition last week and was much taken with this sign that was placed underneath one of the sculptures, a strange mixed-media contraption standing on sand.

In the same way, the first time I went to the Retiro in Madrid and saw the signs saying No pisar el cesped I did a double take. I imagined there were probably public toilets in Spanish parks, so why did they think I’d be tempted to go on the grass? It would have made more sense if it had said “don’t let your dog piss (or otherwise) on the grass”, but that seemed not to bother them in the least.
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first light

The Matins bell sounds honey-clear
across still valley air. It chimes
outside my window where
a carillon of grapes calls
to the rising sun.

The photo is actually from the year we moved to the village – the previous owner was assiduous in his use of pesticides and chemicals, so the fruit that autum was far more photogenic than what we produce.

The words are not recent, either, but I’m hoping that now the summer is effectively over, and I am ready to settle down at my desk with fewer distractions, visits and visitors, I may be able to find space again for poetry.

rest & restoration

This juxtaposition of signs caught my eye:

Iglesia Cristiana Evangélica - Centro de Decanso — are you weak and heavy laden?

In fact, the Evangelical Christian Church has long gone from the building, and was replaced by the ‘Centre for Rest’ – which sells beds, mattresses etc. – but I thought of Matthew 11, 28: