Farm life series #2: Winds of change

The context: I have moved to a Finca (farm) in the Alpujarra, Southern Spain in late November 2021. It has no potable water, no glass in the windows and no heating. However, it does have a lot of heart and a kind farmer whose finca it was for three generations looking out for me. It has beautiful views during the day and a sky full of stars at night and it is quiet. Like a balm to my soul. It has slow and limited internet and a library full of books that I have dragged with me all over Europe. I have decided to write some reflections about life here as I grow into it.

For two weeks straight the wind blew constantly, raising the loose top soil (what is left of it) up and pushing it through the house from ill fitting windows covering everything in a not so fine layer of dust. I am happy that Anton is not here. He would certainly start complaining. Still I am in good spirits.

I have taped some of the worse gaps in the windows shut in my bedroom and kept the windows closed during the day in a vain attempt to keep some warmth in the house. Sometimes the wind dies down only to rage again for hours. The farmer says it is difficult to collect the olives in this weather, I can certainly believe that. He asks me every day how I have slept and everyday he seems surprised that I am still hanging in here.

Today he gave me a box full of soap made out of used olive oil, a bi-product of the farm his wife had made in previous years, I have taken the opportunity to wash some of my smalls with it (by hand because…