Winds

Granny is working on a long post about her mother. But for the moment she is taken up by the arrival of Beloved Daughter, grand-daughter and son-in-law. She is sure anyone out there who bothers to read her will understand if she only writes briefly now and over the next few days. Understand too why she has not yet responded to many of the lovely comments in response to previous posts.

She will just put up one thing - about - what else? - the weather. The wind has gone round to the North-east - meaning it's chillier and also pushes any cloud cover over to this side of Granny's island.As Granny was driving them home from the airport and explaining this, beloved son-in-law commented that people talk as much about the weather here as in England. Of course. This is too an Atlantic island - the weather can as rarely - even less rarely - be predicted. Just the same, though, it's different. Here the state of things is much more governed by the direction of the wind. It's wind - or very occasionally lack of it - which dictates not only hot, cold, cool, warm, wet, dry, planting not planting, but also, very often the populace's states of mind. At certain times of year, in some kinds of wind - too much of it, too unrelenting, week in, week out, people can go mad here. They do go mad. This island has one of the highest rates of suicide in Spain. Granny can understand that.

Wind too is another reason for people not living on the streets as they do in most places this far south. They live in their garages - you rarely see cars in them - or, in the older kinds of houses, in their courtyards, protected from the winds on all four sides. Which is why so many towns and villages appear devoid of life. Why the smart municipal gardens and children's playgrounds with which local politicians attempt to woo ?bribe their electorates are always empty. (Granny has never seen one single person using her local one.)

Things could be worse, though. The lady with the big and little dog told Granny that not only are things no better on the equally windy island to the south, it's the women who kill themselves down there. It's known 'the man's island.' This leaves Granny more than grateful, wind or no wind, that it's the island to its north that she lives on.