Self-indulgence

You’ll have to forgive me for this one; this is shaping up to be a rather narcissistic blog with me as the centrepiece and is something that I am not quite comfortable with as yet. It may be somewhat stilted and awkward. Yes, I know, no change there then…

Anyway, we have mostly sorted out the house so that it is liveable. We still have two fridges, which is a pain and we still have two washing machines, one of which is sitting forlornly in the front room missing various parts awaiting a Spanish technician to source the parts and fix the bloody thing.

We also have two more additions to the family. It wasn’t intentional, quite the opposite but when you see two tiny whiney skinny kittens about to die from either dehydration or various rat bites then there’s not a lot you can do. We did earnestly try to find them a home but then they spent a week in Sonalee’s care and that was that – the heart wants what the heart wants.

We have called them Seeni and Sambol. Sri Lankans will know what that means. They are very cute. We’re not sure how Sparky is going to react, the miserable git that he is. We have to introduce him to these two bundles of energy. He’s just about getting used to living here again and now this. I do feel sorry for him. Ever since Sonalee brought him back from Morocco he has been moved about from one country/town to another roughly twenty times in two years. He needs stability and, possibly, lots of old ladies to fuss over him like he had in Lisbon.

Anyway, back to me…

I have to say that I am enjoying trying to sort out the house and the garden. Both need a lot of work of the DIY kind and, for some reason, I get a lot of pleasure in doing it. Of course it helps that I am not working at the moment. I am very aware that I am merely an amateur and that professionals will do a far better job than me. But – and this is important – our house is an old rural Spanish one that, quite literally, does not have one right angle in it and has plastering that was already a ‘bit iffy’ when we moved here so that any improvements I make are just in keeping with the style of the whole thing.

There is also the consideration that getting a professional in will cost money and also be frustrating as Hell when they keep Andalusian time and do not quite fully understand what it is we want because our language skills are still “developing”.

The dogs, naturally, couldn’t give a toss. In fact they’re as happy as Larry. I genuinely have no idea whom Larry is or was but the dogs match his mood all the time. They have the campo to explore without people to bother them and very few other dogs. They also now have 3 sofas to lie around on and, crucially, the two of us around all of the time.

I digress…

Me.

We have an art fair coming up in the village that is organised by William and Jan, two foreigners who have genuine talent at painting. They have the support of the Fuente Tojar government led by our mayor who has recognised that the foreign vote is only going to go upwards in numbers. She now loves Sonalee and greets her enthusiastically at every sighting whereas prior to last year she was cool on us both, probably because her English is non-existent.

We are both hopeful that she prevails in the local election that is coming up next week. She has worked hard for the village and made very positive changes, including this art fair and the murals around the place just as a starter.

You should see the fervour that these elections have brought to the village. It’s full on! In the UK the local elections are treated as something unimportant despite that obviously not being the case. Here, in the village, it is THE topic of discussion everywhere. It means something, something important, something to be taken seriously. Sometimes it borders on acrimonious and sometimes it can spill over to the point where sides are taken and previous friends no longer speak to each other depending upon their political affiliation. It is serious.

Sonalee will not allow me to draw little Hitler moustaches on the posters of the Vox representative that dot the village. Boo. She says stuff like have to live here and get on with people. Bah. Vox are arseholes. They’re the barmy right wing equivalent of UKIP or National Socialists of the 1930’s. What makes them dangerous is that they appeal to the base instincts of people who don’t have jobs, don’t have a decent home and want to blame immigrants for it. They’re fairly popular amongst the disaffected and the fascist elements of Spain that still persist today even after so many years since Franco. They won’t win in the village but they will take quite a chunk of the right wing vote.

Argh! See! This is what it does to you; you get caught up in it and end up not talking about yourself. Right, me…

There are lots and lots of things that I am not very good at. Hundreds of things. Tons of things. I am ‘okay’ at many many things but I do lack talent at so many things. It is difficult to say something like, “Oh, yeah, Paul, he’s really good at…” because I’m not. I have family who have real talents at art and music and ordering their husbands around an cooking and sewing and sport and being nice to people. Sonalee is talented at her cross-stitch, cooking and singing (she has a great voice) and ordering her husband around. What talents do I have?

Well, I read my only book again recently and, to my surprise, it’s actually pretty good. I genuinely shocked myself. It has ‘sold’ over 500 copies now, which I am well chuffed with. I am working on another at the moment and hadn’t touched it for months until I read it a few weeks ago and, again, surprised myself at just how funny it was. I have a talent! Woo Hoo!

What this will require is me to stop being a lazy so and so and actually sit down to do the writing and the editing instead of looking at my bloody phone.

Anyroadup, I am also developing another talent, albeit not enough to trouble professionals. It has been four years since Sonalee bought me my camera for my 50^th birthday and I seem to be getting better and better at using it, to the point where I will be trying to sell some of my photographs at our local art fair. Wish me luck.

So, having had time to reflect because I am not working at the moment (yes, I know this situation will have to change soon but allow me this time to indulge myself) I have been looking through the photos of the past four years and I can see progression. My first forays into photography were a bit shit, let’s be honest, but I have been improving lately.

It helps to have good subjects of course. Sonalee is my muse, naturally. She’s so beautiful. The dogs are good except for Luna who is never bloody still enough to get a decent pic of. Sparky is good because he’s such a poser. Lisbon was a dream to photograph, it was literally point and shoot and be awed. Madrid was harder except for the sky which was spectacular every day. Rabat was a good learning curve with the beaches and open spaces to capture. Fuente Tojar and the campo is a bit more difficult, you have to look more carefully for that image that will entrance people.

I think I have done quite well since Sonalee presented me with what is a remarkable machine. All of the photos for this blog have come from a compilation of what I consider to be my favourites. Some of them have been printed and framed and adorn our wall upstairs and they look brilliant. I am really proud of them. I don’t do many things that I am proud of in the creative sense but these are some of them.

Some of the photos really aren’t great photos at all but they capture a moment in time or an emotion or are a reminder of something special. Some are, in composition at least, really rather good and some, well some of them blow my mind at just how good they are. I would like to thank my fellow Portmuthian Kate, back in Madrid and an art teacher who insistently told me that photography is indeed art and who got me thinking a bit more. Kym has also told me but sometimes you need an affirmation from more than one source. Sorry Kym, I should have paid more attention to you.

So all of these photos come from the last four years of living in quite amazing places and our home in Andalusia. I have my favourites based upon a memory or just getting lucky with the shot. I would, genuinely, like to know which is your favourite. Please let me know.

It has been a somewhat crazy four years since the gift from Sonalee and I hope that I have managed to make an interesting record of it through the photos and, perhaps less so, in the blogs. I hope to keep doing so as long as I have an audience (that’s you by the way). One city in particular has provided me with so many to choose from that it became almost impossible to cut it down to just a few.

I do have photos of me with my football teams and with the lads from Lisbon and Rabat that I played football with and they’re always going to be special. But they’re not mine so I won’t bore you with them. Of all that are here, let me know what you think.