The last time we spoke I told the story of The Great Animal Exodus, when we took all the animals to their winter quarters at Las Tapias. A lot has happened since then, so let’s start at the beginning.
The season started with Eliott and I returning from the snowy mountains in Switzerland, raring to go, swapping merino woollies for bike shorts. We spent a month or so getting the farm ready, Eliott and his Dad working tirelessly in his bike shop, carefully polishing and tending to the new occupants of the stables, the e-bikes.
I spent a lot of time battling the brambles that seem to be relentless and so very mean. As well as pruning, burning and weeding I am chief ladder holder for Maleni. Maleni, who, started working for my parents at the age of 16, is now 42 and knows El Moro inside out. She’s in charge of all the pre season painting, cottage cleaning and telling me off for not having bought her enough bleach.
Every year she’ll make me hold the ladder as she paints the ceilings and huffs and gruffs about how ‘if it were plastic paint we wouldn’t have to do this every spring’. But Mum and I are in the cal camp (limewash) as we love the yearly ritual of mixing the colours and feeling the soft texture on the walls.
As the “boss” I’m not so sure about being demoted to ladder holder but Maleni won’t have it any other way. She only just about trusts me and she DEFINITELY won’t trust a volunteer, not after the footprint incident….
You see sometimes we have volunteers who come and “help” in exchange for board and lodging before and after the season. Generally they’re pretty good, eager to “live in the nature”, but only for a couple of weeks really, when they’re faced with the reality of having limited internet access and fires for heating.
One year I made the mistake of pairing the voluntarios with Maleni, helping her paint the swimming pool at the Cork Cottage…. They managed to step in the paint and walk all over the terrace leaving HUGE Northern European footprints everywhere. From then on Maleni has been allergic to volunteers and won’t let them anywhere near a paintbrush, or her, for that matter.
She’s just about forgiven me but she certainly hasn’t forgotten the whole palaver.
All in all the 2024 season went really well, we had around 200 people stay, prepared around 220 meals, bottled 200kgs of tomatoes, gave 60 massages, cycled more than 2000kms and rolled out the yoga mats hundreds of times. So as 2024 closes we feel very grateful for everyone who came and spent some time with us and the animals.
Speaking of animals, this newsletter is in honour of Osa. The best big dog. A friend to so many and the background of many phones to this day. She lived 13 happy years, chasing wild bore, barking at deer, and keeping us company on the back step.
From Eliott and I and all the animals at Finca el Moro we hope 2025 treats you well.
Love x