My first Spanish trick or treater arrived last night – a day late, but still delightfully handsome in his Frankenstein fancy dress with his call of “Truco o Trato”. I was so charmed that I led him to the pantry, closely followed by his two younger sisters, and unwrapped a box of assorted biscuits. He grabbed a handful of the nearest variety and immediately bolted for the door. His tiny sister held her hands out for the box, but then, as I gently suggested, took just a couple. The third sister took hers and stayed long enough to thank me.
This trio were a decided improvement on an earlier group of English speaking teenagers led by a lad in plain clothes who bluntly demanded, “Have you any sweets?” He was reprimanded by an equally plainly dressed young lady who reminded him, “That’s not what you’re supposed to say!” They were accompanied by a silent young man in a frogged uniform whom she announced as “Captain Nemo.” Needless to say, I found them some sweets.
A tidy front garden
I had spent the day sorting out the garden areas at my bungalow which were wildly overgrown with morning glory, now browning and dropping its seeds everywhere. The downstairs garden is simply a concrete oblong outside the front door with pots and a wooden bench where I restored order and planted a few spring bulbs, radishes and land cress for winter.
The roof terrace has pots of citrus trees, flowering shrubs and vegetables.
There are a few limes, peppers, spring onions, lettuce, cucumbers and unusual tomatoes left up there, a sprawl of Cherokee beans that have never borne a single flower and a festoon of dying morning glory that has reached to the top of the television aerial. Not a problem, as I don’t have a television and it might as well be of some use for something, but time to tidy it up. I also have a BarBQ up there, a glass table and chairs, three washing lines, a fly-proofed sleeping area for hot summer nights, and three sets of wind-chimes which I find most pleasant and relaxing.