Boxed!

How about this.

No, still won't show the other wall.

Or the floor.

Boxing days

Selling a house requires photos of the interior. Photos of the interior require space. Or, better said: the illusion of space. We managed to transfer the contents of the smaller bookcase into book boxes. Those book boxes are stacked on the other side of the room, which will not be photographed.




Really not.












No.



























Go away.

Zoomba part 8: At last!

We always frowned a bit upon people flying with their dog. And here we were ourselves, dragging a big bench with us.

We chose Rotterdam Airport, as it is a very small airport, and you can collect your pet at the door where you are unloaded yourself. And you can take your dog to the gate yourself, where it is put on a cart, and driven the last 100 meters across the tarmac to the plane. No transit through nasty luggage processing there.

The empty bench was filled with an eiderdown, shoes and some other things we thought we needed in Spain. Like sweaters, and some jumpers.

It was a bit of a gamble if the bench would fit the rented car. It did, when folded up. Which meant that we'd have to have the dog on the back seats while driving.

Alicante. As hotel Areca did not allow dogs, this probably was our last stopover here. A pity, because that means we have to pick a hotel about 10 km from Torrellano, so we will miss out on dinner at Nuestra Barra! But tonight we're still lucky.

Tomorrow, at 13:00: ZOOMBA! We need to be there in time, so she does not have to sit in her cage waiting for us, after being transported from the kennels in Pechina. We thought.

It's about an hour driving from the house to SOSAdopta in Viator, and it's about two hours from Alicante to our house, so we need to leave in time, if we want to do shopping beforehand.

We were at the house at 11:30, with our car full of shopping. We should have brought shopping bags.

It had been raining heavily, we could see the traces of running water all over. And it was damp inside. Nothing a few open windows don't cure. But: no electricity. The circuit breaker (RCD) refused to stay up. That means: no fridge, meaning: no ice cubes or cool wine. And an urgency in finishing off the sausages we bought.

But first we have a dog to collect, and it's 12:00, we need to GO! Hurry up! And why did we bring jumpers and long pants? And why don't we have any shorts left, here? It's bloody hot! Forgot your mobile? Too bad. Grr!

Arrived in Viator 13:15. "Hola! Is Corrinne here?", "not yet", "we're here for Zoomba!", which made faces brighten. "Ah, Zoomba! She's here!", pointing at our dog, who was in a nice dog basket in the pet shop.

Not in a cage.

She had not been at the kennels at all. She had stayed at the vet/pet shop and was loved a lot by all the staff, taken for walks a few times a day, and well fed.

So we have been worried for two months while our dog had been feasting and was loved. It's so fair!

We were told it was about time she left, too, as she was becoming a bit bored, bullying other dogs around, and wrecking the cage she was in at night. We were all too happy to oblige. She looks happy! And she looks well!

The goodbye was heart warming. Cuddles were exchanged, a lot of snacks supplied, and photos taken, it was obvious she was loved a lot. And we had the chance to shake hands with Corinne after all. That was good. And the puppies all have new homes. These people are saints! We won't forget that, and we'll be donators and help them.

Papers and chip were all in order, although Zoomba suddenly was four years old, instead of two. Oh well, who cares. She's a lady. And she's back home.

Transferring a house, and dog

In The Netherlands buying a house is simple. You or the estate agent go to a notary and (s)he takes care of organising the transfer of ownership. He's also the appointed legal party for collecting the funds, and transferring those at the time of the transfer of ownership, trusted by buyer, seller, and the banks.

Well, it does not work that way in Spain. The notary in Spain only takes care of registering a property with the Catastro and Escritura (land and property registry). All other legal stuff, like checking the ownership and legal status of a property, and handling the funds is done by the solicitors of both buyer and seller.

Where back home electronic money transfers (internet banking) are the norm, in Spain you use good old paper bank cheques. In this case we nearly lost count of the number of cheques needed. One to pay the seller, one to pay off the previous owner's mortgage to the bank, one for the transfer tax to the government, one to pay duties to the city, one for the estate agent, one for the seller of the extra block of land, one to pay the transfer tax on that block, one for the notary, one for our solicitor, and I'm sure I'm forgetting one or two now. So far no one has complained, so I think no cheques were lost.

Also, when buying a house, with an inventory, it's quite normal to go and see the house and inventory before the transfer at the notary. Well... that was met with objections. (eh..?) It was emotional, there was a birthday to celebrate, and a family breakfast, and.. and.. and. We just wanted to be sure everything was reasonably in order, and also we'd like to know where the main electrics switches are, how to close off the water, and some general hints and tips on the house. But no. We were told they had prepared a long list of notes for us, and that it was not possible. Luckily we have a solicitor too, and she then contacts the solicitor of the owner, and have an argument for you, and so we could see the house an hour before notary, after all.

Oh yes, and the dog with six puppies, behind the house, in the drain. (Was she mentioned already..? Hm?)

The actual transfer is a lot of shuffling paper and handing out cheques. You sign the "deed", which is in Spanish, which is then read aloud to you by the notary, in Spanish, you get the keys, and are then the proud owner of a house.

Where we were greeted with much tail wagging. Hm. Well, off to the supermarket, to do some shopping. Dog food. And some things for humans too.

And where would the list of prepared notes be? Would it be where the swimming pool pump, filter, and that nice fly curtain made of metal chains have gone? Probably.

Zoomba part 7: the long wait

How long she would have to stay at the kennel was not yet clear. It depended on when the pups could leave her, on her sterilisation, vaccinations, and when/whether she could be transported to The Netherlands. A transport by truck to Germany was planned eind of September, which would be just six weeks away!

However, such transports take two days, and we'd prefer to just come and fetch her ourselves. Better fly two hours than driving two days.. But first things first. It turned out to be not easy to keep track of her wellbeing, and that of the pups. Understandable, too, these organisations are run by volunteers, and they have other things to do than keeping people informed that are 2000 km away. On the other hand, we need to do some planning to have free time off, buy tickets, and arrange things.

According to our teacher Spanish you best call people on the phone, and not write e-mails, as those are regarded as "impersonal" and "too official" by warm-blooded Spanish people, who prefer to just talk. Hm.

Meanwhile for us it was not great to think about a lonely dog locked up in a kennel with six puppies. Can she escape them when she does not feel like having them around? Is she allright at all, there, among 200 other dogs? When will she have her operation, and is that going well? Isn't she totally bored? Won't the stay there change her? Will she recognise us?

We got news that Zoomba had a "little flu" and that her operation was postponed till she was better, which would take " a few weeks". Flu? Flu?! Can dogs have flu, too? Yes they can, and it's a nasty disease. Rare, too. Would they mean "kennel cough"? Which is not nice, either. Damn, we could have had her vaccinated against THAT...

We tried to arrange that she could come with us anyway, and she could have her operation HERE, but no reply.

All in all we worried more about the dog than about the house and moving there.

But, organising time off is not easy if you have a job that has a tight schedule, as teachers have. Better press a bit, and that we really need time to organise... She was there since August 21st, September was nearly at its end. Our next window of opportunity was end of October when we could have a whole week, else it would just be a long weekend... And the transport to Germany, end of September, was full already.

End of the first week of October, finally some good news! She had had her operation, and everything was fine. With the pups too. (Do they have new home? No answer.) And yes, we can come and collect her! When would be convenient?

Poor thing. Had we known in advance then we would have been there, then. Now we had to wait two more weeks till October 28th, if tickets were still available. And space for one dogs on board the flight.

But: YES!

Zoomba part 6: goodbye! At least for a while.

Friday August 21st. Zoomba had a pretty good week, being fed every hour with boiled chicken-wings, rice and a handful of dry dog food. But today we take her and her kids to SOSAdopta in Almeria.

We found a huge shopping bag and a piece of hardboard that we wrapped in a towel to go at the bottom of the bag. Big enough for a puppy pile. As this is a hired car we better take care to not get it dirty. An old bed sheet was wrapped over the back seats. How would these dogs react to an hour by car?

Well, pretty good, actually. The landscape whizzing by was quite interesting, and was keenly observed, while her kids were fast asleep in the bag. So far so good.

The address was easily found. The Adopta organisation had an office at a vet annex petshop, and that is where they take dogs in. We had the nice waiting room to ourselves till the vet arrived. He explained what they'd do, chip, vaccination, passport, sterilization... We had hoped that she could be spared an operation, but it's the law in Spain that dogs taken into care are neutered. Could not be helped. He explained that it's better for her, as it will protect her against tumours and other nasty diseases later in life. And that it really is better for her. Sigh.

Registered her for her passport, etc. The name "Zoomba" was met with big smiles. Good!

Well, off the pups went, in their bag. Above picture is the last we saw of them. Zoomba herself was taken to a waiting room, so she would be safe before examination by the vet. That was a tough moment both for her and for us. She had to get into a big cage, and it was obvious she did not like the look of that, and struggled. Once inside she was standing up, looking quite unhappy and betrayed.. We felt very sorry.

We had to leave. And grown men can cry, I can tell you.

Zoomba part 5: "Zoomba"

Now we needed a name. Of course two syllabes, for easy yelling. And, something Spanish.

Shall we call her Banjer too, i.e. Ban-ger, as the Spanish would say? Hmm. Naming a dog after your previous one seemed tacky.

She looks like a fox, a bit. What is fox in Spanish? Zorro. Nice! And a female fox is a "Zorra". Better!

What else. She sleeps like a log. What would "snoring" be in Spanish? We looked up the Dutch word "ronken", which turned out to be "zumbar". And her name from then on was: "Zoomba".

In retrospect we are happy we did not call her Zorra, apparently that is what the Spanish call a very greedy lady, according to our teacher Spanish.

Zoomba part 4

Today is Tuesday August 18th 2015, whatever the date at the top of this page.

When we tried to leave with the car to do some shopping, during the weekend, we needed to put her outside the house, so she could tend to the pups. But what happened instead? She came running after the car... We had to stop and tell her to go back to her children. Which she did, unwillingly, tail between her legs.

Oh dear. What to do with this lovely dog?

There was just one decent thing we could do: we'll adopt her, and if possible a pup.

We'll get her to The Netherlands till the time we move to Spain, when she'll return with us to her former home again. But, properly cared for this time.

Easier said than done, actually. You cannot just take a family of seven with you on a plane. Dogs need to be vaccinated for rabiës, and that takes time. At least three weeks. (Pups can only be vaccinated when they're older!)

So, we do need to find shelter for this family, till the time till the pups can leave her, get her and the pups properly vaccinated, and cared for.

Local options turned out to be not possible. People already had dogs, or were explicitly forbidden by their husbands to take in more puppies. Letting her stay at the house with people dropping in once a day did not feel right either. Dogs need a family, and puppies need mopping. The workshop at the house is not suitable either. It's too hot, dark, dusty, and not suited for children, dog or human.

Time was running out, too. We needed to leave Sunday at the very latest. Just a few days to get this arranged...

Alternatives... Have one of us stay longer till shelter is found? Rent a car and drive home with the whole family?

Friendly neighbours gave us the address of the vet in Vera, where we took her yesterday for Spot-On treatment, and checkup. They had leaflets of SOSAdopta, an organisation in Almeria (the city), taking care of stray dogs, an hour driving away. We could speak to Corinne of SOSAdopta later today, she's the one speaking English, as our Spanish is still pretty hopeless at this time.

We asked if they could care of this family for us in return for a proper donation, as offered by us. And to our very big relief THEY AGREED! We could bring them this Friday. They will take care of vaccination, chip, passport, and possibly even transport to The Netherlands! Corinne, you are a SAINT!

The IBAN for SOS Adopta is: ES18 3058 0021 3527 2000 7436

Zoomba and the dentist

Sorry if this blog seems to discuss Zoomba a lot (it does). Almost done.

However, today is about today, and not a flashback.

Last week, it was already dark, she grabbed something off the street and started chewing, happily. A dog grabbing "stuff" to eat off the street is not good news, and we tried to take her prize off off her.

What? Two pebbles? Why is she chewing on pebbles?

(We do feed her!)

Our previous dog did this once, too, on the beach, and managed to chew a flint off off a molar. Just a flint. The vet was worried and said: it must be taken out! We were not overly worried, and he was 11 at the time, so we bode his time. He managed to become 14, and kept on chewing sticks as happily as before, but we kept an eye on stones, and his tooth, ever since.

So, better check this one for damage then, she's only two.

No new damage. But, there was old damage. A big molar lacked it's big pointy thing completely, and was discoloured, and had a dark spot in the middle (1). Eew, yes.

The vet noted she had a lot of "scale" on her tooth (Zoomba), and tried scraping some off, not to much avail.

What to do about it? You (the vet) can quite easily extract a dog's tooth, but I was worried that when a tooth is extracted other molars will start to move around, and the perfect fit of her teeth is destroyed. She (the vet) didn't know that for sure. Or if dog teeth can be filled? It depends on the state of the tooth, and on the dog. Police dogs get crowns and metal replacement teeth fitted. Well, this is no police dog.. So, off to the specialist with the x-ray camera for dogs.

The result is above. And a little surprise there is, too: she had another tooth missing! The tooth we are worried about is the left one, with the dark spot in the middle (1). On the right of that one are two little stumps: the roots of a molar long gone, and now beneath her gums (2). They needed to go, else they will cause trouble later.

The damaged tooth must hurt her, the doctor said. Especially when under pressure of a ball, or food. (I did notice she carries a ball on the left side, probably to spare her right side bad tooth.)

He was tempted to do a root canal, "I love doing those", he noted, but maybe it is better to just remove it. Especially since the other roots must be removed.

After 45 minutes we had a groggy little doggy in our arms, who must eat boiled chicken and pasta for a week, and peed on the way home while sitting on a lap.

We better not think what would have happend, had she stayed in Spain with her broken teeth.

Zoomba part 3

Tuesday morning and cloudy, a bit looking like rain.

Dog was at the door, expecting breakfast, and getting it. But, contrary to the previous days she was gone after finishing her trio of chicken wings, rice and biscuits. Oh, there she is again. Is that fireworks? Hunters? Sounds like thunder. She's gone again. Oh, no there she is. A bit more agitated than normal. Ah, PUPPIES! Would they have come out of the hole? Yes. There they were, scurrying up the edge. All six of them. Time to get them out of there!

But where to put them. A box? Well, we took a drawer from a cupboard to carry them to the house. These are lively creatures, a drawer or a box won't keep them in. The workshop? Too hot, dusty and dirty, and not nice for puppies. Best if they are around us, to get used to humans at least a little bit.

The solution found can be seen in the picture above. The room next to the kitchen seemed the right place. Stone floor (wee!) Mattress made of old sun bed and old duvet cover. And a plank that is so high as to keep puppies in, while allowing mum in at the same time. As these are climbing puppies, a soft landing was provided with another old bed cover.

Did I mention wee? Puppies wee. Eat, wee, sleep, wee, or sleep and wee. And even a lovely teenie weenie turd, already! A mop was present, fortunately. And a mopper.

Poor thing, see how thin she is? Count the ribs.

Feeding puppies is not exactly a tender happening. These puppies are getting teeth already, and they will simply bite the teats and hang on. Mum was clearly not enamoured with this setup, and getting out of there the moment she thought it was enough, which did not take long.

But, these pups look nice and fat and happy.

Time to get this family into proper care.

Zoomba part 2

Wake up, first morning in our new old house. First thought is with the dog: will she be alright?

The answer did not hide, there was a bag of HUNGER, tail wagging, at the door. WROF! No puppies in sight, though. Breakfast was followed by more sleep on the kitchen floor.

This was Saturday morning, we had to leave next Saturday afternoon. What to do with this cuddly dog... We were told we needed to wait till the puppies would come out of their hiding place, and then an adoption organisation would take care of them. But who? The estate agent who had said it said she had heard it from the owners. The now ex-owners said their son would take care. The brother of the ex-owner said he wanted no responsibility for any puppies (mate), but he'd talk to the neighbours who are dog people. No one came. And so we were left alone with this challenge.

Although we were not entirely alone. This is a glass with soapy water and lice we took off her, and drowned. This is about half the population. It's time to take her to a vet, and see how we can clear up this problem, as you cannot simply give a lactating dog a Spot-On treatment.

Well, you can in Spain. And the Spot-On is supposed to rub off on the pups a bit too, so they stay free of lice, too.

We took the opportunity to ask the vet if she could be tested for leishmania, worried as we were that she was so thin, and that besides feeding puppies she might be ill. They have a testing kit for that, that will tell in 5 minutes if she's been in contact with leishmania before, and two other nasty diseases that I happily forgot the names of. All clear! She's healthy, about two years old, and just needs a bit more food. That was a very happy message.

Dog back to the house, we off shopping. What do you feed a mother dog? We decided on chopped up chicken wings and rice, deliciously simmered, accompanied by dry dog food bits. It was much appreciated. WROF!

Another thing we took from the vet's, was a leaflet of an adoption organisation. "Yes, give them a call", the vet said. We did, and could speak to an English speaking person, tomorrow.

Meanwhile, this lovely dog was sleeping again next to the kitchen table, and we realised that one way or another, her life as it was, is over. And while she's blissfully unaware, it weighed heavily on our hearts.

Zoomba part 1

In a hole in the ground there lived a Zoomba...

Ehm.

And six puppies.

And a few hundred lice.

Ow.

The hole is behind a house that some very nice Dutch people bought. On the day of the transfer of ownership (which is a story in itself, involving three solicitors, a notary, about 15 bank cheques, and depressed previous owners), it was noted that, oh, there is a dog, and six puppies. But, a charity was contacted, and as soon as the pups come out they will collected and taken care of.

Yeah, right.

Single mothers are not always loved. This one was not loved enough, certainly not food wise. (Oddly enough the pups were all nice and fat and round.)

Well, maybe this dog was not terribly loved, she had enough love to give. No opportunity was shunned to be around us, especially in the kitchen. Which was worrying, given a litter at the back of the house. We interpreted this immediately as: HUNGRY! So, first thing was: off to the supermercado. Wine needed to be bought, and a big bag of dog food. Which was appreciated with a deep WROFF. Amazing how such a slender dog can emit such a deep WROFF!

Then, sleep on the kitchen floor.

Shouldn't you tend your babies...? Apparently not.

We were worried a bit: here is a mother dog, but hardly paying any attention to her litter. Perhaps it pays off to be around food-providing humans? Who gave her a handful every hour, as to not have her burst... WROFF!

Time for bed. What to do about this dog..? We took her to the hole, into which she disappeared, welcomed by squeaks and small yelps. (We had not seen the pups, as the hole is quite deep, and dark.)

Walls

First of all some pictures, saving me a few thousand words:

This is a house, about 100 m2 ground surface (not including the workshop), so ca. 200 m2 floor space. There is a very big kitchen with a high ceiling, and a nice big terrace on top of the old workshop, that we will use as a garage. Around the house it is a desert wasteland. That is because that area used to be a path/road for use by the neighbours. That road is now closed off, so we can make it green and nice and shady. Same with the space in front of the house. That is now baking in the sun on hot days, and also on not so hot days, which is not great. We'll install shade sails, plants, so there will be cool shade all around the house. Also the terrace will be a green oasis, with passion flowers, thunbergia grandiflora, kiwi, bougainvillea in every color, ...

All the land in the picture belongs to the property, except the corner in the upper left, beyond the green. The mess in front of the house is gone.

If budget allows we'll install a pool, either somewhere in the lower left area, or the lower right in the picture.

Kitchen (the most important room):

And the room with the wood stove:

Floorplans:

The house is a bit complicated, levels wise. The three parts of the plans below are sort of stacked on top of each other. Stairs take you up, or down, depending on your direction.. And yes, we have lost about one meter on the "first" floor. Probably because some walls are thicker than we remember, and we have measured the inside spaces.

No, no garage door, yet.

Their fault!

Of course I blame my parents. But, in a caring way.

My parents abandoned me in my early twenties, because they were lucky enough to be able to stop working at 55, and moved to Australia, as you do. (Civil service in those days...) However, I had a good job, something with computers and programming, which was nice. And stayed.

The Netherlands is a really nice country for working, and living while working. But, summers are short, and usually cool and wet. At the same time we enjoy a long winter, that is also cool and wet. I'm not fond of cool and wet.

While on vacation in the Canary Islands, in December, long ago, I realised that when the weather in Holland is nasty, there are always places on Earth where people are in the sun, having cocktails on a sunny terrace, and are dining al fresco. And even late at night it's great outside. I knew I wanted that.

Early in the naughties tv series started like "A Place In The Sun", "Escape to the Continent", "Droomhuis Gezocht" ("Dream house wanted"), "Ik vertrek" ("I'm leaving") where they film a couple wanting to start a new life abroad. Usually without enough money, not speaking the language, and not terribly organised, starting a B&B without knowing how to make a bed, or cook for guests, getting pregnant at the wrong moment, etc etc. Else it is not amusing for the viewers. We want drama. Of course we want drama! As long as the drama concerns other people, obviously.

However, those programs did give us an idea of property prices abroad, and our possibilities. The more south you go, the lower house prices are, if you skip the Provence and the Côte d'Azur and silly places like that. Selling our house leaves enough funds to buy a place down south, AND enough money to bridge the years left before retirement and pension money... Why work till you are 67? Perhaps that nasty mr. Brinkhorst likes to work till he dies, bragging about it, but we don't. There is more in life than work. Well, there can be. My folx are proof of that. (And, we don't plan pregnancies or B&B's.)

We looked at places in France for properties where you have peace and quiet, no airplanes, no motor cycles, no sports planes circling above your head like irritating bluebottles, no neighbours unable to play the piano and with a trampoline in the house. And preferably a bit more self-sustaining energy and food wise. So, heating with own firewood, electricity from solar panels. Or, find an old watermill, restore it's function, and generate our own electricity that way. Being an electrical engineer, I can do that.

Well, France was not kind to us. There are lots of interesting places advertised on the internet, on sites like www.green-acres.com. (I'll show you some houses we were interested in over the years, but later.) However, French estate agents refuse to tell you where a house is, exactly. If they reply to your email at ALL.

We know France in summer. While visiting some places while out of season we found out that we had too positive an opinion on France's climate. In winter it's as wet and cold as back home. The summer season is indeed a bit longer, and there are nice days in winter, too, but overall it's not that great.

So we gave up on France, after a few years.

Canary Islands, after all? Over our budget, often, and the properties are not big and self-sustaining. Though the Lanzarote blog grannyp.blogspot.com drew me towards the Canaries still...
Italy? Too... complicated.
Greece? Nice, but you never know if it will stay with Europe.
Cyprus? Very nice, too. But.
Portugal and Spain mainland only presented themselves when brought up by "pensionado" friends who went there quite often, in winter. Well, we are not exactly Marbella, Torremolinos or even Ibiza people, but we started to realise that if you look inland a few kilometers you may find peace and quiet, a wonderful climate, and a lower price level for both house and living.

We found a house, in the south of Spain, in Almeria. A 200-year-old watermill, with those nice and thick stone walls we always wanted (thank you again grannyp.blogspot.com!). However, without any water to run the mill, but with agricultural water to irrigate the garden.

We are now working on actually moving there, as soon as we can. Probably somewhere Q3 2016. Exactly the same year in life as my parents.

The house also came with a single mum dog, ticks, lice, and six puppies. More on that, and other things, past present and future, later.

And yes, my parents and sister are all still happily living in Australia, 30 years later.