NORIA - WATER WHEEL
"La finca era una verdadera delicia. En ella se podía encontrar de todo: cereales, ganadería, vino, aceite, frutas de todas clases...
En la antepuerta de la propiedad, unas monstruosas tinajas de barro mostraban sus panzas relucientes de aceite. Una de ellas estaba rota. Rezola y los Zumeta no podían comprender cómo habían podido ser transportadas hasta "El Potrerizo" aquellas enormes vasijas. Les dijeron que habían sido fabricadas en aquel mismo lugar, hacía cincuenta años, a mano, ya que no había rueda de alfarero que pudiera soportar aquella mole. Para terminar las tinajas, el hombre que las hizo había tenido que trabajar desde dentro de una de ellas, y luego ayudado a salir del fondo de la vasija por medio de una polea. Después las cocieron allí mismo, en un rústico horno de ladrillos, construido única y exclusivamente para la cocción de aquellas enormes piezas.
A la derecha de la plazuela donde estaban emplazadas las tinajas, se extendía la viña de uva blanca que daba un vino aromático de escasa graduación.
Antes de entrar en la casa, se pasaba por un jardín limitado por tapias no muy elevadas, por encima de las cuales se podía contemplar, hacia oriente, un paisaje maravilloso de olivos, encinas y pinos mediterráneos, de alta y redonda copa, entre montañas azules y moradas que se alejaban.
Detrás del edificio principal de "El Potrerizo", en la hondonada, destacaba la lujuriante huerta del cortijo, con la alberca y la noria que servían para regarla. Formando angulo recto con la casa principal, estaba la parte del cortijo ocupada por la Guardia Civil. Siempre había algún número de centinela o montado sobre la pared que dominaba la sierra". (Continuará)
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DOÑA PAQUITA'S "CORTIJO" (FARM) (3)
The farm was absolutely beautiful. It had everything: cereals, livestock, wine, oil, fruits of all kinds...
At the entrance to the property, monstruous large earthen jars had their bellies full of olive oil. One of them was broken. Rezola and the Zumetas couldn't fathom how those enormous jars had been carried to "El Potrerizo". They were told that they had been done right there, fifty years ago, by hand, since there was no potter's wheel that could handle that bulk. In order to finish the jars, the man who made them had to work from the inside and, with a pulley, aided to come out. Afterwards they were "cooked" right there, in a rustic brick oven, built exclusively for that purpose.
To the right of the square where the jars were, the white-grape vineyards, that made an aromatic soft white wine, extended.
Before entering the house, one passed through a garden, limited by small walls, from the top of which one could see, towards the east, a beautiful view of olive trees, oaks and Mediterranean pines of tall, rounded tops and, in between, blue and purple mountains that seemed to disappear in the distance.
Behind the main building of "El Potrerizo", in the ravine, the luxuriant vegetable garden stood out with its reservoir and water wheel which provided its irrigation. Forming a right angle with the main building, was the part where the Civil Guard had their lodgings. There was always someone on guard or sitting over the wall dominating the view of the mountains. (It will continue)
"La finca era una verdadera delicia. En ella se podía encontrar de todo: cereales, ganadería, vino, aceite, frutas de todas clases...
En la antepuerta de la propiedad, unas monstruosas tinajas de barro mostraban sus panzas relucientes de aceite. Una de ellas estaba rota. Rezola y los Zumeta no podían comprender cómo habían podido ser transportadas hasta "El Potrerizo" aquellas enormes vasijas. Les dijeron que habían sido fabricadas en aquel mismo lugar, hacía cincuenta años, a mano, ya que no había rueda de alfarero que pudiera soportar aquella mole. Para terminar las tinajas, el hombre que las hizo había tenido que trabajar desde dentro de una de ellas, y luego ayudado a salir del fondo de la vasija por medio de una polea. Después las cocieron allí mismo, en un rústico horno de ladrillos, construido única y exclusivamente para la cocción de aquellas enormes piezas.
A la derecha de la plazuela donde estaban emplazadas las tinajas, se extendía la viña de uva blanca que daba un vino aromático de escasa graduación.
Antes de entrar en la casa, se pasaba por un jardín limitado por tapias no muy elevadas, por encima de las cuales se podía contemplar, hacia oriente, un paisaje maravilloso de olivos, encinas y pinos mediterráneos, de alta y redonda copa, entre montañas azules y moradas que se alejaban.
Detrás del edificio principal de "El Potrerizo", en la hondonada, destacaba la lujuriante huerta del cortijo, con la alberca y la noria que servían para regarla. Formando angulo recto con la casa principal, estaba la parte del cortijo ocupada por la Guardia Civil. Siempre había algún número de centinela o montado sobre la pared que dominaba la sierra". (Continuará)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
DOÑA PAQUITA'S "CORTIJO" (FARM) (3)
The farm was absolutely beautiful. It had everything: cereals, livestock, wine, oil, fruits of all kinds...
At the entrance to the property, monstruous large earthen jars had their bellies full of olive oil. One of them was broken. Rezola and the Zumetas couldn't fathom how those enormous jars had been carried to "El Potrerizo". They were told that they had been done right there, fifty years ago, by hand, since there was no potter's wheel that could handle that bulk. In order to finish the jars, the man who made them had to work from the inside and, with a pulley, aided to come out. Afterwards they were "cooked" right there, in a rustic brick oven, built exclusively for that purpose.
To the right of the square where the jars were, the white-grape vineyards, that made an aromatic soft white wine, extended.
Before entering the house, one passed through a garden, limited by small walls, from the top of which one could see, towards the east, a beautiful view of olive trees, oaks and Mediterranean pines of tall, rounded tops and, in between, blue and purple mountains that seemed to disappear in the distance.
Behind the main building of "El Potrerizo", in the ravine, the luxuriant vegetable garden stood out with its reservoir and water wheel which provided its irrigation. Forming a right angle with the main building, was the part where the Civil Guard had their lodgings. There was always someone on guard or sitting over the wall dominating the view of the mountains. (It will continue)
27 comentarios:
Vamos, como mi terraza...
Besos.
Aparentemente, un lugar hermoso. Pero si hay muchos centinelas ...
Te comenté éste y los dos snteriores, querida Merche, pues vengo atrasado!
Gracias por visitarme.
BESOTES Y BUEN FINDE!!!!!!!!!!
I can imagine myself living there! You an amazing story teller. Bezos y abrazos! Propz Pilgrim...P.S. I asked my Dad and was told these interviews are only to read in the library of LLB or to listen at my Dad´s. No digital records, I mean what will you expect from 1986? :-)
TORO y, como la mia... Besotes, M.
STANLEY, gracias por todos tus comentarios anteriores y éste. Doña Paquita sí que debió ser una mujer "de bandera" como se decía entonces debido a sus genes germánicos. Buen finde para ti tambien querido. Besotes, M.
PILGRIM, you know it's not me writing, don't you?? It's my great-aunt. She wrote it when she was in her eighties. Too bad about your father's interviews but I still can't understand WHY it's so difficult to, at least, know his name... Gros bisous, M.
SE VE QUE ESTAMOS DE PUENTE...
Mmmm...estupenda continuación...Ç!
Besos y feliz fin de semana...!
No se si conocerás o habrás estado en uno de esos cortijos que estas describiendo...Este desde luego no era de gente humilde desde luego...
conozco en priemra persona uno en mi pueblo, que además de la casa (mansión podría definirla mejor) tiene un pabellón para alojar a cientos de temporeros, cuadras y dependencias para aperos y enseres, una capilla...y por supuesto un cuartelillo de la guardia civil, ya que en tiempos de plena campaña agrícola se convertía este recinto en un verdader pueblo....besos
Supongo que el contraste entre lo que habían vivido y la estada en el cortijo, debió de ser grande, a pesar de "la compañia", pero como ya estaban acostumbrados a verlos...
Feliz fin de semana o puente, quien lo haga.
M. Roser
un paraíso en mitad de un tiempo inhóspito, sin duda.
Besos.
CORNELIVS ¿qué quiere decir "Ç!"? Besotes, M.
TUCCI, no, nunca he estado dentro de un cortijo (los he visto desde fuera) pero sé que son como pequeños pueblos. Los he visto en ¡tantas peliculas! Besotes, M.
M.ROSER, mis tios disfrutaron mucho de su estancia en Andalucia. Recuerdo a mi tia rememorando esa etapa de su vida con mucho cariño. Besotes, M.
PEDRO, exactamente, un paraíso en tiempos turbulentos. Besotes, M.
GRACIAS MIS QUERIDOS
I saw one of those gigantic ceramic olive oil "jars" in a villa in Bishmezzine, Lebanon this past summer. It was about 100 years old, the owner told me and used to belong to his grandparents. The owner of the house keeps it in his salon, his living room, as a decoration. It was immense! I can't imagine how much could be kept inside, but it would be a lot. The jar is empty today. Just a decoration, but a center piece and eye-catching.
NORTHSHORE, I've also seen some in Spain. It's amazing the things they did in olden times, nowadays I don't think anyone would do them, least of all from the inside! Hugs and thank you for your comment, my dear, M.
NORTHSHORE, by the way, don't you find it strange that Layla Anwar (Arabwoman)has practically disappeared from her blog when she was so prolific?? It surprises me, really. Hugs again, M.
Y vaya, vaya, que resultó ser " amar en tiempos revueltos!"
Besos
MYR, "Amar en tiempos revueltos" es mi culebrón favorito, lo sigo desde casi al principio. Ayer vi en la "2" (bueno en TVE a la carta en internet...) un programa MUY interesante sobre la inquisición española. Si puedes verla, seguro que te interesa. Besotes, M.
Cómo me gustaría ver esas tinajas, porque para sacarlo con una polea, tela.
La dueña del cortijo tuvo mucha suerte con el afincamiento de la guardia civil en un ala de su casa con los tiempos tan revueltos que le tocó vivir.
Nice post
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