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The Wild Asparagus Hunters are Out and About

It´s that time of year. Cars parked in odd places, the solitary person - usually a man, popping up above a bank or from behind an olive tree. The hunters of the wild aparagus are here. The plentiful rain scattered with a day or two of sunshine has brought them out in droves. Some have their route, others instinctively know where to go. They appear, walking back to their cars, with a huge bundle of foot long green spears of asparagus. And off they go, probably not to be seen for another year - or another week if the rain continues. No matter how hard the shoots try and hide the older men hunt them down with stick in hand, to fob off the spiky old growth, and uncover the tender new stems of wild asparagus. Everyone has their favourite way of cooking them but the most common seems to be in a Tortilla - the thick Spanish potato omelette to which you can add anything that comes to hand - or is hunted down. My one or two shorter stem finds don´t come close to the experienced hunters catch. I...

Rambling Alone and with the Ramblers in Andalucia

I wonder, just occasionally, when I see the ramblers with their backpacks and officious sticks whether I should join them.

Fortunately it´s on the way back from church and I´ve a car load of hungry males wanting feeding yet again, the caterpillar of rambling OAP lookers only hangs heavy for half a minute.

I prefer my walks from the doorstep, the mornings when I take the ancient trainers onto the patio to avail myself of them only to find an enormous hinderance from my walking partner.

It appears that Jimmy my not-very-intelligent-but-adorably-mad dog knows what those particular items of footwear mean. I´ve had to resort to putting them on indoors as it´s better for the temper control alarm and far quicker.

Rambling alone or with a nutty excitable dog I´ve decided is my thing. I relish the silence, the bird song, the non-expectancy of anyone on me.

Being able to sit, breathe, think, pray and nothing except Jimmy can disturb me. What joy to be childless, husbandless, pupil-free, phone-free and with the sun beating down.

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