This is simply a gratuitous post about the puppies who appeared on the doorstep again a few days ago so that I could put up these cute pictures of them. In Portugal, by the way, the doorstep of a village house isn’t just where you kick off your muddy boots before going indoors. It seems to me it is the extension of the house where the neighbours gather to chat, shell peas and display cute puppy dogs. At least five neighbours regularly gather on the doorstep next to ours and I am quickly picking up the local ways and doorstep sitting. Soon I will be out there de-stoning cherries or peeling potatoes in a hat with strings tied under my neck, rather than wearing suntan lotion and holding a mug of coffee.
Doing anything while holding a mug of coffee is my thing. My favourite coffee holding pastime was at Bondi Beach in Sydney, when I could walk from the house to the grassy bank above the beach holding a lovely hot mug full and watch the world go by. In England, on our one hour school run to Cambridge we would sit in traffic for half an hour and listen to Chris Evans on the radio. Eventually we would hit gridlock. Yay! Out would come the travel mug of coffee, hot chocolate for my daughter, made just before we left the house. Gorgeous view of the countryside opposite Madingley cemetery. Those mornings stuck in traffic were hard to beat for pure pleasure.
I haven’t yet found a traffic jam in Castelo Branco although I have sadly started to listen to Chris Evans downloads on the school run. Now I sit on the doorstep, watching the old lady in black criss-cross the street, the square faced man with the little dog pace up and down and the other ladies chatter on the step. With coffee mug in hand.
Back on topic, the puppies as you can see, are still adorable and I still want one. However, they need puppy training and after two children and a dog already I need a break from that stuff.
Anyway, must go, the kettle’s boiling.