Well we had a dang good time in Extremadura/Portugal last week. I include "/Portugal" because our trip rather unexpectedly took us there - the farm we were on contains the international border, so we ended up spending a little time on that side, tootling around and doing a bit of sightseeing.
Olive picking turns out to be not too bad of a gig at all, and when you're in the deep rural country, surrounded by stunning views from basically any angle, the work goes by even easier. The only sounds to break the quiet were sheep's bells, the clucking of chickens, and The Mister's earnest but rather faulty falsetto.
He decided that all farm work should be accompanied by singing, chain-gang-style; group sing-alongs preferred, but he isn't shy to go solo if need be. Anything to suit his public. So there really was a lot of singing going on.
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The front yard |
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Pickin' olives in my olive pickin' clothes |
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Captured mid-song |
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I wasn't lying about the chickens |
Ah! I can't get the photos to load, will have to try back later.
ReplyDeleteSide note: I don't think "chain-gang" style encompasses falsetto... but the more I try to picture it in my head, the funnier it is. That crazy Mister.