The previous evening we agreed that we’d go to a nearby market, but in order to buy good, fresh fish, we have to set off at 9 o’clock. That’s no problem for me. I got up at 7:15 and took the dogs for a walk through the woods to the ocean. When I got down to the shore, I let Gerbeaud off the leash too. He disappeared immediately behind the dunes. It seems I can’t live without adventures and excitement, and in our family right now the biggest “excitement provider” is Zserbo. No matter how I called him, he didn’t come. “Okay, Panka, then the two of us will go collect shells, and we'll play with this cool stick.” The little bastard (Gerbeaud) didn't show up even when we got back to where I’d let him go. I called him, he didn’t come. “Alright then, the two of us will go home, Panka, you’ll get breakfast, and I’ll come back later.” I was incredibly calm; I surprised myself. Gerbeaud has his collar on, with my phone number on it. There are no cars here, so from that point of view he’s not in danger. When Panka and I got home, Ingrid was already downstairs. I told her that Gerbeaud was still sniffing around on the beach. “What? Gerbeaud disappeared?” “Well, you could put it that way. Though I’d rather say he chose freedom over breakfast and his loving family. I’m going right back to the shore—maybe he’s turned up in the meantime—and he’s waiting for us by the pier.” “We’re coming too, I’ll tell D’Arcy right away!” So we set off. Ingrid and D'Arcy went straight to the ocean shore, and I took the path I’d walked with the dogs in the morning. I blew the whistle several times. Nothing. Then, as we reached the pier leading down to the beach and I blew the whistle really hard, I immediately saw Gerbeaud running toward me at full speed. I caught him and put him on a leash. He didn’t want to tell me where he’d been, where he’d dug a hole in the sand. I was happy he’d turned up. I called Ingrid right away to say I'd found the little adventurer. He was considerate of our plans, because it was 8:45 when he showed up, and we still got home in time to leave for the market. But by then nobody felt like it, so we agreed we’d eat something else for dinner, not fish as we’d originally planned. Luckily, except for Sunday, the market is open every day.
D’Arcy and Ingrid went on a drive together, I decided to write my blog, Brenda did laundry and was reading her book, Gerbeaud was reliving the memories of his morning adventure—sometimes he twitched in his sleep—and Panka waited patiently to see whether the day would bring anything else interesting. Later Brenda and I took the dogs for a walk and talked a lot. She’s had/has quite a life too. By eighteen she already had two children: she gave birth to her son at fifteen and her daughter at eighteen. She’s a very capable woman, not afraid of anything. There are four siblings: three girls (she’s the youngest) and one younger brother. She learned many trades, loved fast-paced workplaces; she retired from HR work three years ago (she’s 68 now). At forty-seven she passed her big-motorbike exam and she loves the freedom riding gives her. She has two children, five grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren. A very close-knit family—they adore each other. She’s very likeable: very kind, cheerful, adaptable, helpful, with a good sense of humor.
We got home from the walk just as Ingrid and D’Arcy were getting back from their outing. We put the treasures bought for dinner into the fridge, I fed the dogs and let them rest. The four of us two-legged ones got into the car and went for a little drive. I really, really like the landscape—such interesting hills, the grass is wonderfully green, yellow and white flowers are blooming in the fields, and the almond trees have dressed up in lace. We stopped in Alcoutim, a tiny little settlement, and took a few photos. We picked a few shoots of a wild plant that Google identified as some kind of mint. Ingrid says it’ll be great with steamed zucchini. Okay.
For dinner our chef made heavenly burgers with onion sauce and very tasty Portuguese boiled potatoes. Divine smells filled the kitchen-dining-living room while D’Arcy explained a new card game to me. The smell of the garlicky zucchini made my mouth water. Ingrid reassured us that she’d only put a tiny-tiny bit of (stolen) greens into the zucchini. Unfortunately we couldn’t eat it, it was so bitter. We learn something new every day.
In the evening we tried the new card game; it’s called “Euchre” (pronounced “yuker”). Usually four people play it in teams of two. It was great, and I wasn’t too clumsy, even though I played with pros. Well one of the pros was my partner. Then we fit in three rounds of rummy cub; after that I heard my bed calling and I happily obeyed.