It's here, that shocking time of year

It's...May

When I was a kid my mom’s friend gave us her old stereo, plus some records she didn’t want anymore. One of them was Camelot, the musical with Richard Harris as King Arthur. One of my favorite songs on that soundtrack is “It’s May”, because it made a month I thought was rather humdrum sound so ribald i.e. It's here! / That shocking time of year! / When tons of wicked little thoughts/ Merrily appear!

My parents didn’t want me to sing sexy rock songs but the songs of Camelot were pretty risque if you ask me, going on and on about how May is “That darling month when ev'ryone throws self-control away.”

Not to mention goading! There is goading: It's time to do a wretched thing or two, And try to make each precious day one you’ll always rue!

And in case you weren’t getting the not-so-subtle message of this song, the chorus clears it up when it shouts The birds and bees with all of their vast amorous past, Gaze at the human race aghast, The lusty month of May!

Note the word aghast. I’ve had high expectations of May most of my life.

May is pretty nice on the quinta in Belas Portugal, if not quite the orgy that Camelot led me to expect. The air is mild, the sun is warm…we’re on that perfect precipice between spring and summer, the rains are over and the sunshine is yellow and friendly, with only a hint of the ferocity it will bring in a month’s time.

During the day we leave the back door open and Jake sits outside on the new porch. Every once in awhile I lean back in my chair and check he’s still there, and he, apparently dazed in the sun, might lift his head in acknowledgement. This will happen a few times and then I’ll be lulled into thinking he’s gonna stay put like a good dog and I’ll hear a bark in the distance - the very far distance - and get up and go see that he is not on the porch anymore, he’s all the way across the property on the far side of the pool, having seen the pool guys drive up and walk over to take some measurements. Jake loves to be among working men. He moves surprisingly fast for a senior guy. He’ll turn fourteen this month. We love him so.

Yesterday the tractor guys came back - it’s more than a three hour drive - and swapped out an attachment. The tractor guys and Tiago and Paulo and Alberto were all in the driveway talking with the h, Jake barking joyfully among them. I had to go fetch him. Get this - I saw Alberto jogging across the street and up his driveway and asked, what was his hurry and the h said oh nothing he just machined a part that the tractor guys said would help the h take the new attachment on and off. Alberto is teaching the h and Tiago how to weld.

The garden is so beautiful right now, everything growing and flowing. The potato plants rise triumphantly from their mounds in long orderly rows. The lettuces are gently crowded in their boxes, well-coiffed and shiny like polite ladies waiting for the cashier at the supermarket

A pretty little bank of red poppies has taken root at the western edge of the potato field. The cilantro looks like a wedding bouquet.

Sometimes Jake sees his daddy in the horta and barks to be let in. Then he’ll lie around in the cool stone bed around and between the raised boxes, then in the heated dirt of the bean patch, which faces the sun all day long. Back and forth, panting a little and with a little grin and a wag if he sees you looking at him.

There are three daisies hanging about near the cabbage, like middle school girls who heard a boy band might be showing up.

Leif Garrett and Shaun Cassidy have spent this fine morning on the wall yelling about how wonderful they are. They are. I’m writing a new horror short story called Blood of the Rooster, inspired by just how much Shaun Cassidy when he crows looks like a man who has been bewitched, screaming for help. Let me tell you it can be unnerving at dusk, he’s quite a large rooster, his WWF name is Shaun the Braun.

My domesticated coop chickens are so adorable. They number twenty two - five adults (three roosters, two hens) and seventeen chicks, nine of which are coming up on fourteen weeks old, while eight of them are eleven or twelve weeks old. They put themselves to bed every night, by 7:30p sharp. Yesterday I went up a little early and they all flew down to investigate if I had food or not. Then Fuzzy Zoeller wanted to be picked up, then Delta Dawn wanted to be picked up, then my sweet little Jeannie wouldn’t let me put her down for the longest time.

Sierra’s nine babies

After ten minutes of milling about they began one by one and two by two to find their roosting spots. Jeannie has returned to the company of her brothers and primo, Han Solo. The original quad squad rides the roost to each morning’s dawn once again. Doesn’t Jeannie look happy?

Meanwhile over in the northern flock Betty White has gone broody, sitting in the pampas grass for two days and nights now. If she’s sitting on eggs it’s no more than two. We’re keeping an eye on her. While we have the room for a third peep egads we do NOT need any more roosters on this place. It’s gotten so no matter what is being recorded on your phone around here you can hear crowing in the distance, near and far. As I write this sentence, I can hear the separate crows of at least six roosters and lunch isn’t even happening for two and a half hours. Everywhere you look on this property there is a rooster. Here are some hanging around the scaffolding, for some reason.

While we were standing in the horta Paulo the baker drove up and then exited his white van in the driveway and waved up at us. Herb went down to the driveway and Paulo gave him not one but two huge loaves of white bread, it is the most amazing bread you’ve ever had for French toast. So we dropped everything and whipped up eight of the eggs from our valiant little galinhas Sierra, Betty White and I Dream of Jeannie, and enjoyed perfect French Toast with sliced peaches as a late breakfast/early lunch. This bread also makes a killer toastie - grill one piece of French toast, cut in half. Spread one side with fig preserves, the other side with hot sweet chili preserves, then layer parma ham, one slice of bacon and a few blue cheese crumbles. Press together for 30 seconds. Fan thinly sliced avocado and tomato wedges across the top. Serve with an arugula salad with toasted walnuts and home made honey dijon vinaigrette.