I had the best of plans for more posts on El Perro: loads going on in the garden, adventures with our escapologist canine contingent, trips out in Jaime, our – finally matriculated – home on wheels, the list goes on.

So what went wrong? Was I too busy? Not well? Unmotivated? Nope! None of that.

Our first cherry harvest, almost a pound of deliciousness, came and went. I took photos but somehow could not share them.

Inspiration struck and I built the ‘stumpery.’ Normally, El Perro would be my first port of call, but I just could not do it.

Geoff got involved with local politics and we hit the campaign trail with our mad, frustrating, warm, affectionate, funny Spanish friends. A rich seam to be mined, but I still could not share.

We have all heard of writer’s block, and some of us have suffered from it. I have discovered the most literal form of writer’s block. I have feared for some time that it might mean the end of El Perro.

I FORGOT MY PASSWORD!

Oh No!!! I chose it so that it would be unforgetable. I made it so mind-numbingly obvious that I would forget my own birthday before I forgot it. It was so ingrained in my muscle memory that my fingers would type it in my sleep. Or so I thought.

Something happened that the laptop had to be rebooted, so I had to sign in again. I merrily typed in the link, saw all the usual blurb, yada yada yada … and then nothing. My fingers hovered over the keyboard and my mind went blank.

I tried making up something that seemed likely. The imaginary bouncer at the door folded his metaphorical arms and glared at me. I tried a different possible password. He flexed his formidable biceps and told me to go away.

I went and made a cup of tea (usually good for any emergency) and tried again. I tried distracting myself and sneaking up on my brain sideways to see if I could wheedle the password out of my subconscious. Nothing worked.

And thus it has continued. It’s been hell. A hell brought on by a ghastly coming together of technology and middle age.

I can’t think what I was doing this morning when the penny finally dropped. I raced to the iPad and typed in the magic words before I could forget them. It worked. And now, here I am, letting you know I am back, but having just realised I should have made a note of how I got in.

I have a horrible, sinking feeling that when I leave today, I may be gone some time.