Old Fool’s Blog

My uncle was a famous explorer

Sat, 28 Apr 2012 15:10:33 +0200

Joe and I were sorting out boxes, unopened and stored since my parents died in 1993. Imagine our astonishment when we came across a complete manuscript called ‘Horizon Fever’ written by A E Filby, my uncle. It describes his 37,000-mile journey from London to Cape Town, and back again, in various motor cars, including an Austin 20 which is now displayed by the British Motor Museum (see pic above).

I never met my uncle but I wish I had. He died of malaria in 1942, well before I was born. What tales he tells! Missionaries, pygmies, big-game hunting, gold-mining, crossing the Sahara and swimming in the Nile with crocodiles... One of his companions was a monkey called Congo. Another was a dog that adopted him, until it was killed and dragged up a tree by a leopard.

I think I would have liked Uncle Archie. Of course I don’t condone his attitude to animals, belonging to a bygone age when big-game hunting was admired, and ‘conservation’ a buzzword for the future. Archie comes across as a courageous, feisty, quick-tempered, bossy little man, but full of fun, generous and never one to bear a grudge. I imagine his human companions found him difficult to travel with, but he made friends easily and was much in demand by the Press and for radio broadcasts.

Joe has taken up the task of transcribing ‘Horizon Fever’, and we intend to publish it. We’re resisting the urge to make any changes, or edit in any way, as we feel Uncle Archie should speak for himself in his own colourful style. Luckily, we also have photographs and newspaper clippings of the incredible journey. Joe has undertaken the challenging task, made particularly tricky as the original manuscript was bashed out on an ancient typewriter that had the ‘e’ and the ‘o’ missing.

But I think it’ll be worth it. The result, I’m sure, will fascinate other readers as much as it did us. ‘Horizon Fever’ is a real snapshot of life when much of the world was controlled by the British Empire, and Uncle Archie’s journey was most definitely an incredible feat of endurance.

More Spanish owls

Sat, 14 Apr 2012 18:20:23 +0200

I love opening emails from readers. Some just say nice things, some tell me about their own lives, and others send photos of their pets or wildlife.

These really delightful owl pictures come from Dave Hemsley. He wrote:

Really enjoying the newsletter and of course the books.
Thought you might like to see the owls that were nesting in the Chocolate tree in ILBER VALLEY near To JALON (Xalon).
I was lucky enough to capture these shots, as the last of three chicks flew the nest in June 2008.
This particular chocolate tree has been the home of a family of tree rats, snakes and of course the owls over a number of years.
Looking forward to our next trip to the villa in September.
Your stories are so similar to our experiences.
Keep up the good work and making us smile.

Dave.

Thanks, Dave. They are beautiful pictures!

Scops owls in Spain

Thu, 5 Apr 2012 14:14:43 +0200

Can you believe it? It’s exactly one year since Joe and I were under house arrest in the Middle East. Spring was the only thing on our minds then, but it was the Arab Spring, not the seasonal one. So this spring in El Hoyo is rather special, our first after a year away.
One of our favourite signs of spring is the scops owl arriving in our valley. We’ve never seen one, but we hear them nightly. Usually, there’s just one, trying to attract a mate, but the other night there were three of them, all competing.
Scops owls don’t say, “Twit-Twoo” like some other species. Scops owls are perfectly happy with just a “Hooo” every 20 seconds or so, repeated over and over again. So the conversation went rather like this:
Scops Owl #1, “Hooo.”
Scops Owl #2, “Hooo.”
Scops Owl #3, “Hooo.”
Our valley resembles a Roman amphitheatre; even the smallest sound travels and can be heard by all. So Joe and I stood on our roof terrace at dusk, listening to the owls trying to out-do each other. Actually, Joe is rather good at imitating these owls, and this opportunity was just too good to miss.
“Hooo,” said Owl #1, from somewhere high in the valley.
“Hooo,” agreed Owl #2, his voice echoing from our far right.
“Hooo,” added Owl #3, somewhere to the south of us.
“Hooo,” said Joe, beside me.
Utter silence. What? An interloper! A gatecrasher competing for the attentions of a lady owl? Oh, horror! We giggled as we imagined all three owls’ expressions as they swivelled their heads, trying to work out where this uninvited newcomer might be perched. I imagined them ruffling their feathers in annoyance, their yellow eyes piercing the gloom in an effort to see this cheeky infiltrator.
Having got over the shock, the owls pulled themselves together and resumed their hooting. But so did Joe. Now we had a quartet, all in perfect time. Occasionally a fox would bark, but the four performers refused to be distracted. The three owls took it in turns to hoot, leaving time for Joe to chime in at the end of the sequence. I left them to it. I had supper to prepare, and I could rely on Joe to carry on with the good work.
Half an hour later, I called a reluctant Joe inside.
“Two of them gave up,” said Joe, triumph in his voice. “It was just me and the southerly owl left.”
“Eat your supper,” I said, “before a lady owl comes knocking on our door, looking for you.”
So, do we regret our year in the Middle East? No, not at all. If nothing else, it makes us appreciate our life in Spain even more, surrounded by nature.

Spanish red wine

Wed, 4 Apr 2012 14:14:21 +0200

We were shopping at our local Carrefour, rounded a corner, and were greeted with this scene...

Actually, what surprised us most was that nobody was making much effort to clear it up. (It occurred to us to fetch some straws and offer to help.) I think in England, it would have been roped off, warning signs put up, and they’d be mopping immediately.

We were just very glad that we hadn’t caused the accident.

I wish I could read Polish...

Tue, 20 Mar 2012 13:28:08 +0100

The title is, ‘U mnie zawsze świeci słońce’ which my google translator insists means, “U me always lit the sun”. Really? No chickens? No mules? Hmmm... Those nice people at Pascal Publishing in Poland have now translated ‘Chickens, Mules and Two Old Fools’ and it’s already on sale in Poland.

And here’s the blurb:

“May abandon the gray everyday, to the picturesque villages in sunny Andalusia and there find your paradise on Earth? Victoria urges her husband to move from wet England to southern Spain. Henceforth be guided by only hearts. Buy ruins in the tiny village, meet new friends, biesiadują with wine, become part of the principal world of fascinating culture. Zaprzyjaźnią with osiemdziesięciopięcioletnią, popalającą trawkę seksbombą. Are growers of hens and their eggs are? its hottest commodity? in the native village. Do not expect, however, that this place has pretty good zażartować from received. Let uwieść czarowi small, Spanish town, where life becomes sielanką ... with a little chilli. A lovely, warm story. Superiority of the scene.”

I just hope it makes more sense in Polish, haha!

Two old fools, a bee and a fire

Sun, 18 Mar 2012 12:56:47 +0100

“What’s that buzzing noise?” I asked Joe as we sat in the kitchen drinking coffee. “It sounds like a giant bee trapped somewhere.”

“I don’t know. It seems like it’s coming from the dishwasher. How can a bee be trapped in the dishwasher?”

The buzzing increased in volume as we peered anxiously at the dishwasher. We opened it gingerly. No bee. Then the buzzing changed to alarming crackling noises. Bright flashes and smoke appeared from behind the dishwasher.

“Something’s on fire!”

Joe hauled the dishwasher out, revealing flames flaring from the electrical socket on the wall. Quickly, he grabbed a towel and smothered them.

“What on earth caused that?” I asked after we’d fanned the smoke outside and muted the fire alarms. The plug was blackened and melted, it was impossible to be sure of the cause. But the emergency make me think. What if we hadn’t been there? What if the fire had happened at night? What if the flames had reached the gas bottle that feeds the hob, next to the dishwasher? I guess that would have been the end of the old fools.

What caused the fire remains a mystery, but it was a wake-up call. I’ve added ‘more fire alarms’ and ‘fire extinguisher’ to our shopping list. Joe’s checked all the other electrical sockets in the house. I’ve planned escape routes from the house in case fire cuts off normal exits, and made the seldom used back door key accessible. I’ve made a mental note of the emergency number, 112, and written it in huge letters on our kitchen blackboard. I hope we never need that number, and anyway, I dread to think how long it would take a fire engine to reach our mountain village.

So, the emergency was averted, and the old fools remain intact. But that buzzing sound is still in my head. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to hear a buzzing bee without thinking our house is on fire?

Morgan and the Martians

Wed, 14 Mar 2012 20:03:49 +0100

I know. I should be concentrating on writing ‘Two Old Fools on a Camel’, but I just sidetracked a little...

Today my comedy play-script for kids was published on Amazon, yayyy!

Here’s the blurb for it...

Morgan is a bad boy. A VERY bad boy. When a bunch of Martians give him a Shimmer Suit that makes him invisible, he wastes no time in wearing it to school and creating havoc. Well, wouldn’t you?

This English comedy drama will amuse and encourage the most reluctant of readers, and will fire fertile young imaginations. Teachers will find the accompanying assignments and activities a godsend, both as part of a syllabus or an end-of-term filler.

Suitable for KS2 or ages 9 to 11. With FREE printable worksheets, quizzes, activities, crossword, wordsearch, etc.

Victoria Twead is better known for ‘Chickens, Mules and Two Old Fools’, but, as always, her sense of humour is evident in this, her first book for children.

Morgan and the Martians is available here or from Amazon.
Paperback edition coming soon.

Mama Ufarte’s Lemon Sponge Cake

Thu, 1 Mar 2012 19:19:57 +0100

Recipe and excerpt from ‘Two Old Fools ~ Olé!’

(Joe and Vicky have become unwilling baby-sitters for their neighbours’ children.)

I heard the activity long before I reached the kitchen. Standing in the doorway, my eyes swept the scene before me. The fairy twins were cross-legged on the floor, Joe squatting with them. Cupboard doors hung open, and most of my saucepans and wooden spoons were already spread all over the tiles. My heart sank. Where was the orderly kitchen I had left just moments before?
“Um, we were just playing Cooking,” said Joe, looking up at me a little guiltily. The fairies didn’t look up, they were far too busy.
“And the boys?” I asked. I was feeling a little weak.
“Outside. In the garden.”
The bang-bang-thud of the football as it ricocheted off the walls and my cherished raised flowerbeds and plant pots made me wince.
“Would you believe it? Their parents have gone shopping,” I said in English. “And left all their kids with us...”
“I know,” said Joe, beating an imaginary cake mix with my silver soup ladle. “The kids told me.”
“It’s a bit of a cheek, though, isn’t it?’ I said.
“Not a lot we can do about it,” Joe shrugged. “Anyway, it’s nice to have little kids around, I suppose. Didn’t I tell you things were going to change?”
I sat down and watched the fairies playing. They were totally immersed in their game. Fairy #1 cracked an imaginary egg into a bowl, while Fairy #2 stirred.
“We’re making bizcocho,” announced Fairy #1, glancing up.
“Like Mama’s,” said Fairy #2.
“You can have some when it’s ready.”
“But only when it’s cooled down.”
“Or you’ll get a sore tummy.”
“Because it’s not good for you to eat warm cake.”
“But if you’re good...” Fairy #1 wagged her finger at Joe and me, “you can lick out the bowl.”
“But only if you’re very good.”
I was enchanted. These little girls were repeating word for word what they’d heard their Mama say a thousand times as she baked.
“Well, you’re both doing a grand job!” said Joe, getting up and stretching. “I can’t wait to taste it when it’s ready.”

Fact: Writing is an Obsession

Wed, 29 Feb 2012 12:50:21 +0100

I’m utterly convinced that writing is in the genes. You’re either born with an overwhelming urge to write, or you aren’t...

I was, and I can trace it back to the age of about 6 or 7, when I wrote my first masterpiece. It was called ‘The Runaway Tabel’. It went something like this: ‘Wunce there was a runaway tabel and wen you put food on it it ran away. The end.’ But I guess everyone has to start somewhere...

While my brother and sister played outside, I shut myself in my bedroom and wrote. I couldn’t help it. How much paper did I waste? How much drivel did I write? I have no idea, but I couldn’t stop.

I was still writing as a teenager. I should have been studying for exams, or helping out, but I needed to write. The stories I produced were dreadful, believe me, but I couldn’t stop.

Then I married, and found time to write between giving birth and working. I sent some of my stories to magazines, like Woman’s Own, and crossed my fingers. The stories were undoubtedly dire, but, miraculously, some were published. The writing fever stepped up a gear, as irresistible as breathing, but sadly nothing more was published.

In 2004, at the grand old age of 49, I nagged Joe into abandoning England and relocating to a tiny, crazy, mountain village in Spain. We ended up owning probably the most dangerous cockerel in Spain and selling eggs to the villagers. I had more than enough material for a book, and ‘Chickens, Mules and Two Old Fools’ was hatched, followed by the sequel, ‘Two Old Fools ~ Olé!’. To my astonishment, my books took off, and the writing obsession became even stronger.

My family are accustomed to seeing my eyes glaze over as I suddenly think of a paragraph I want to write, or a plot I need to develop. They don’t comment when they see me pacing up and down, deep in thought. They ignore me when I start scribbling at the dinner table. They know I suffer from an incurable disease, CWO, or Chronic Writing Obsession.

There’s no cure, I’m afraid. If you suffer from it, you are doomed to a lifetime of writing. But there are positive sides to the affliction. I’ve never been bored in my life, and my head is always full of ideas and future projects. Also, I’ve made friends with people all over the world. Every time I open an email from a reader, I’m treated to a snapshot of their lives as they tell me about their own experiences. And of course the money is nice, too... (Thank you, Amazon.)

So, if you suffer from CWO, I sympathise. My advice is, don’t even bother to fight it. Instead, embrace it, and you will eventually become a silly old fool like me, with a head crammed with ideas and a pen glued to your hand. I guess that’s how I will die, with a head full of ideas, clutching a pen and happily taking notes as I leave this earth. Not a bad way to go...

Pine Nut Crunches - oops!

Sat, 18 Feb 2012 11:22:06 +0100

As you can see from the picture, this batch of pine nut crunches was a bit of a disaster.... The reason why is because they were left too long in the oven. However, as long as you don’t get distracted by toddlers and remember to take the cookies out of the oven, they are guaranteed delicious!

From
'Mouth-Watering Spanish Recipes'

by Victoria Twead and Gayle Macdonald

Pine Nut Crunches
Mostachones de Piñones
Makes around 50 small biscuits
~ 10 minutes preparation ~
~ 25 minutes cooking ~

These crunchy biscuits come from the region of Malaga in Andalucía. They are sweet, crunchy and really simple to make. Gorgeous with hot chocolate or coffee, even the burnt ones!

Ingredients:
100g (3½ oz) pine nuts
250g (8¾ oz) plain flour
250g (8¾ oz) sugar
3 eggs
¼ teaspoon cinnamon
Icing sugar

Method:
1) Pre-heat the oven to 180C/350F/Gas Mark 4.
2) Toast the pine nuts in the oven in a dry frying pan. Roughly chop and set them aside.
3) Place the sugar and eggs in a saucepan, and beat until smooth and thick.
4) Gently heat the saucepan (continuously whisking) until the sugar has dissolved.
5) Remove from the heat and add the pine nuts and the flour, a little at a time, but continue whisking. Ensure that all the ingredients are worked in and the mixture is nice and thick.
6) Grease a flat oven tin (or two).
7) With a spoon, drop small amounts of the mixture onto the tin. They should be evenly spaced (about 50 small biscuits). Dust with icing sugar.
8) Bake in the oven for 15 minutes.
9) Remove and allow to cool.
10) Dust again with icing sugar, and a little cinnamon.

Spanish Vegetable and Ham Tortilla

Sat, 11 Feb 2012 19:54:02 +0100

This traditional Spanish tortilla has been adapted with additional fresh vegetables and ham, making this dish both colourful and exciting. Here, we used green and red peppers, but spinach, broccoli or peas make great alternatives. If you don't feel brave enough to flip the omelette, cheat by finishing it off under a hot grill.

From
'Mouth-Watering Spanish Recipes'

by Victoria Twead and Gayle Macdonald

Ham and Vegetable Tortilla
Tortilla campesina
~Tapas~Meat~BBQ~
Serves 4 to 6
~ 10 minutes preparation ~
~ 60 minutes cooking ~

Ingredients:
2 medium potatoes
1 medium onion
1 small red pepper
1 small green pepper
100g (3½ oz) diced serrano ham
8 eggs
Olive oil
Salt and pepper to season

Method:
1) Peel and finely slice the onion and potatoes. Dice the peppers into quite small pieces.
2) In a large heavy based non-stick frying pan, heat about 200ml (7 US fl.oz) olive oil.
3) Add the onions and potatoes and then turn down the heat to its lowest setting. Cook for about 10 minutes until they begin to soften, stirring occasionally so the onions and potatoes don't brown. Then add the peppers and continue to cook for a further 10 to 15 minutes until all the vegetables are soft. Add the ham and cook for 5 minutes more.
4) Meanwhile, beat the eggs in a large bowl and season with a little salt and pepper.
5) Remove the ingredients from the pan with a slotted spoon and add to the eggs. Mix well. Carefully pour away most of the oil into a bowl and set aside (you may need more later in step 7). Leave just a light covering of oil in the pan.
6) Pour the egg mixture back into the pan and leave to cook on a very low heat for about 10 minutes. Use a knife to go round the edge, ensuring the mixture does not stick.
7) After 10 minutes or so (the omelette should be firm on the bottom and starting to cook through to the top), place a large plate (or specialist tortilla flipper) over the pan and very carefully, but quickly, flip the pan over (be very careful not to spill the hot oil). The omelette is now upside down.
8) Lift the omelette off the pan and return the pan to the heat, adding a little more oil if necessary. Now slide the (upside down) omelette back into the pan.
9) Cook for a further 10 minutes (or so) until it is cooked right through.
10) Once the omelette is cooked through, flip again and place on a serving plate to rest.

Tip: The tortilla can be served warm or cold and can be served as little squares for tapas or in larger slices as a main meal.

Chilly Chickens

Fri, 27 Jan 2012 13:29:21 +0100

As I sit typing, I can see steely clouds gathering, cloaking the mountaintops. Will it snow? Probably not, but we’re prepared, just in case. We have water, food and logs in abundance. Our chickens provide us with fresh eggs but, unfortunately, they also give us cause for concern...

We’ve kept chickens for seven years, and our latest are the most lacking in common sense. As dusk falls, they make their way to bed, but not in the way their predecessors did in the past. Instead of roosting on their pole, in their snug, dry henhouse, they insist on sleeping on a shelf outside. In the summer it didn’t matter, but now nights are freezing, often wet, and there is the threat of snow.

We’ve tried everything to break this silly habit. We spoke to them severely, explaining it was for their own good, and that they’d catch pneumonia if they stayed outside. We tried removing the shelf, but they just huddled unhappily underneath where it used to be, outside in the cold. So we replaced the shelf and tried education. Just before bedtime, Joe helped them onto their night perch, hoping they’d get the idea, you understand. (Pic 2) But they simply jumped back down again as soon as his back was turned.

Chickens are totally blind in the dark, so we changed our tactics. Now we wait until dark, and Joe (complaining loudly) plucks each chicken from the outside shelf and carries her into the henhouse. There they stay all night, but the following night they roost outside again. And the nightly ‘putting the girls to bed’ ritual continues.

Joe and I watched a TV show the other night about brains. It seems a chicken’s brain is about the size of a jellybaby, (Pic 3) so perhaps our expectations are too high. It’s very likely our hens will never get the idea. Through my window, I see the clouds are thickening and night is falling. The temperature is already freezing; it may well snow tonight. Brrrr... Time to send Joe out into the cold to put the chickens to bed, one by one. Roll on summer...

Fabulous Spanish Dessert ~ Sweet Toast

Thu, 12 Jan 2012 16:38:25 +0100

Very similar to the savoury dish called 'French toast', this sweet, ‘eggy bread’, is popular as a dessert in Spain. The grown-up version makes a nice after-dinner dessert served in small pieces, with a bit of vanilla ice cream. Our chickens usually provide us with enough eggs for this delicious dish. Unfortunately, we rarely have stale bread as the chickens eat it...

From
'Mouth-Watering Spanish Recipes'

by Victoria Twead and Gayle Macdonald

Sweet Spanish Toast

Serves 6
~ 5 to 8 minutes preparation ~
~ 8 to 10 minutes cooking ~

Ingredients:
6 slices of thick, stale, white bread
300ml (10 US fl.oz) sweet sherry (or milk for the kids)
3 eggs, beaten
Butter for frying

Method:
1) Trim the crusts off the bread and cut into 4 squares or triangles.
2) Soak each side of the bread pieces in the sherry (or milk), for a minute or so.
3) Dip the bread into the beaten egg and fry in butter until they are golden on both sides.
4) Sprinkle with sugar or cinnamon, or ice cream, or a drizzle of honey, and serve.

Traditional Spanish Three Kings cake recipe

Sat, 31 Dec 2011 12:51:21 +0100

Recipe and excerpt from ‘Two Old Fools ~ Olé!’

(Joe and Vicky are invited next door on the 6th January.)

“Lovely cake,” said Joe as he munched his way through the slice of Roscón handed to him by Carmen-Bethina. He took another big bite.
Nobody warned Joe. Nobody told Joe to be careful. Nobody told Joe that the cake hid little Christmas figurines. Whoever finds the Christ Child figure is crowned King or Queen for the meal, while the one who finds the dried bean must pay for next year’s Roscón de Reyes. Guess who broke a tooth as he bit on the Baby Jesus?
Joe clapped a hand to his mouth and spat the Baby Jesus and a piece of tooth into his paper napkin.
“What the..?” he spluttered. Luckily, Joe’s horrified grimace was misread by Carmen-Bethina and Paco, who took it to be rapture at finding the Baby Jesus.
“Ahh!” beamed Carmen-Bethina, “you have found the Baby Jesus! I hoped you would be the one to get Him!”
“English!” shouted Paco, giving Joe’s back a hearty congratulatory whack, causing him to eject another shard of tooth. “You are King for the meal!” He thrust the golden cardboard crown on Joe’s bald head and everybody applauded, Bianca barking with excitement.
Paco whisked Joe’s hot chocolate mug away and replaced it with a brandy glass, sloshing a generous measure into it. An hour later, Joe had forgotten all about the tooth.
“That’s the most expensive piece of cake I’ve ever had,” he moaned, much later. “I’d much rather have got the dried broad bean and had to pay for next year’s cake, than have to go to the dentist and get my blasted tooth fixed.”

Best Christmas Present ~ ever!

Fri, 30 Dec 2011 14:53:13 +0100

I’m just looking down at what used to be my waist-line, and mourning its demise. Too much Christmas fare, I guess, but it was worth it! Joe and I had a wonderful Christmas, and we hope you did, too.

As with every year, Carmen from next door came round bearing gifts of home-grown tomatoes, a bottle of red wine and a poinsettia. (Pic 1 above.) When I was a child, I thought a poinsettia was a breed of dog, but now I know it’s a glorious red and green plant. The tomatoes were useful for home-made tomato soup and the wine was most welcome, too. However, the poinsettia filled me with dread. Every poinsettia I’ve ever owned begins to die as soon as I accept it. This one is no different, and I can hear the leaves dropping off as I type.

But this Christmas, I had the best present ever! Daughter Karly announced she’s pregnant with my first grandchild. Karly didn’t trust the home pregnancy test so she made her husband, Cam, take one too, so that they could compare the results. Three tests later, they were sure, and the hospital scan confirmed it. Okay, the baby is the size of an orange pip at the moment, and the scan (Pic 2 above) looks as though she may give birth to a duck, but we are DELIGHTED!

So 2012 already looks as though it’s going to be an exciting year. The Spanish Recipes cookbook is finished, hurrah! I intend to get ‘Two Old Fools on a Camel’ written, and I’m going to be a granny! If only the poinsettia would perk up a little (before Carmen pops round again and catches sight of it), then everything would be perfect...