When I was planning on moving to Morocco my fav niece asked me what sort of garden I wanted. I had no idea except I wanted a lemon tree. When I arrived late on the ‘first night of the rest of my life’ after I’d quit my job, sold my home, and given most of the contents away, the flight had been delayed four hours, there was a last minute panic about whether the cats were going to get put on the plane because of a cock up, and then the relief standing in passport control close to midnight watching them going around and around in the distance on the luggage carousel – there in my garden was a young lemon tree. My niece had sent over the money to a friend, who had bought and had it planted.
Here it is now, eight years later, a super healthy looking tree. Its only ever had one lemon, but hey, who cares! In the background you’ll also see the first blooms of a lovely pink climbing rose, which she also bought for me to remind me of home.
And now to my latest present, a gift this morning from my lovely French neighbours. A lily of the valley stem and root which was gift wrapped, a present for Labour Day, which I guess must be celebrated more in France than the UK. I hiked out an old overgrown plant, and popped it in a pot straight away.
I have several other plants that were ‘gifts’ in my garden, from the local hobo, who I guess watches people planting out a new garden, and thinks they won’t miss the odd tiny plant, and brings it to me as a present……but thats a story for another week!
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Well, to be accurate its from the rooftop two doors down. I had the idea, took the steps upstairs to my terrace, put them on the ledge, climbed to the top step……and bottled climbing over the parapet onto the roof! Then I remembered my neighbours roof terrace.
The Mosque (pronounced mos-key) you see in the foreground was being built when I first arrived here to live. One day walking to the shops I was horrified to see them painting the Minaret with one painter dangling down out of the top window, while another man inside held onto his ankles.
I have a useless sense of direction, but I think thats looking south, the sea is across town to the right-hand side of the picture.
A friend found an old map of Agadir from 1978. I think its fair to say that the whole picture would have been empty. My, Agadir, how you’ve grown.
I am contributing to #sixwordsaturday pop over and have a look
As most of my visitors talk to the animals first, then ask after me, I thought it might be an idea to do a little update now and then from the important members of this household.
This week has been a week of Vet visits, but thankfully scheduled ones, not emergencies.
Firstly at about 8 months old it was Maya’s time to be sterilised, She had her op Saturday and I expected her to be really subdued and sorry for herself, as Tara was, but it seems shes made of sterner stuff. She marched out of the Vets and although she has slept a lot, otherwise shes been pretty much as normal. The Vet took her dressing off this morning, Tuesday, and was pleased with the wound. We have to stroll down there at 6 o’clock for him to put some antiseptic spray on it – its silver so she’ll look like David Bowie! She has a ‘lampshade’ but I’d rather keep my eye on her and stop her pulling out the stitches.
The reason for his visit today was to vaccinate Tara and the cats. He is very kind, and makes a house call. Toby and Junior were very co-operative by sleeping in ‘their’ bedrooms. Lulu of course was a different matter, she must be telepathic, shes never once allowed herself to be caught on vaccination day and normally evades me for several days afterwards. She always knows what time the Vet is closed so its safe to come in.
Tara was of course terrified as soon as she saw Mohammed and she hid under the table and had to be coaxed out. She is such a wuss.
People who actually know me, know that we give some food to two dogs in the park. They are Tara lookalikes. One, Betsy, has just had pups, 7, unfortunately five died and a German man took one home as a pet, and the other seems to be doing OK. Here he/she is being introduced to Tara.
The other dog, Sissy, is about to give birth too. Watch this space.
When Tara, my first dog, was a pup we used to walk in the local park, quite often bumping into a lady who had five dogs. As Tara got bigger, we started to walk further afield, firstly to give her more of a run, but also because the local park is full of the African ‘disease’ – litter – and the other park is much nicer.
Just recently we’ve been cutting across the edge of the local park on our way, but Tara has taken against one of this lady’s dogs (which was a tiny pup but is now a huge beast) and if she sees them in the distance, she simply plonks herself down and refuses to go on. So for an easy life, I’ve just been turning around and going a different way.
This morning, my neighbour stopped her car and asked if I was ok, and I explained about Tara’s sudden aversion to Chico and she was so relieved, she said she had seen me turn around and walk away from her several times, and she wondered what she had done to offend me.
It made me wonder how many other times in our life we unwittingly do something that is misunderstood, and are never given the chance to explain.
Has it happened to you?
Who me? It wasn’t me mum
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Well its more of a mild grumble really, but I thought I’ d start off gently and ease myself into it….
The park where I walk my dogs used to be full (and I mean full) of rubbish. Moroccans have no concept of keeping things tidy and there are no litter bins to speak of. The park gardeners had lost heart and said why? they’ll just leave more tomorrow.
Anyway, about November I decided instead of spoiling my walk by muttering about the trash, I’d keep one little area clean…day by day that little area grew and grew until all of the grassed areas were relatively clear. The gardeners to their credit saw my efforts and joined in, if not exactly enthusiastically, they still did some. Yes, every morning there’s the day before to clear up after, yes people still leave stuff everywhere, some look at me like I’m mad, but its hugely satisfying to see what a difference can be made, with just a little effort. So what’s my gripe?
Blooming gardeners who spend hours and hours raking leaves, twigs and rubbish into piles at regular intervals around the park, and – then leave it there. So the stray dogs and cats rummage through it to see if there’s any food and the wind blows it all over the place, and basically it all has to be done again tomorrow grrrrrr.
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