Hope all well in Isleham and/or the South of France. The bleak Brazilian winter continues to batter us into submission and we are forced to don light sweaters just to live to see the next day; but there is light at the end of the tunnel, and we are officially ON for Foz do Iguaçu in September, which should be most fun.
Not much to report in the past week - on Wednesday we went to Garrafas Bar for another open mic night and fantastic headlining show by Bob the Organiser, who has since jetted off to New York for a tour and Andy McKee tutorial. And on Sunday we took Ridaut out for Father's Day, to the all-you-can-eat idyll of Benedetta's followed by afternoon tea at Teakettle (pictured); I also made a solo drive around the block to pick up some fancy beers for him, without mowing anyone down, which I was quite pleased about.
Last night there was a neighbourhood-wide power cut, so I made the most of it by seeing if I could hack it as a semi-blind person - making dinner in the dark, stumbling around the living room, that kind of thing. It wasn't so bad...
No compilation this week - you just can't get the staff these days - but I received a whole page of Brazilian-isms from our work translation company to coincide with the Olympics; my favourite is "para inglês ver" ("for the English to see") which means doing just enough to pass cursory inspection by visitors, and dates back to the slave trade era. Another version of the phrase is "onde o pastor passar", or "wherever the pastor passes by" - often used to describe my lacklustre approach to cleaning the house, in the most immediately visible places only.
That'll do, pig.
Fred
No comments:
Post a Comment