Have mostly been concentrating on our big event later this week, which should go off without a hitch, touch wood. Elsewhere we went to Taynah's circus recital on Sunday which was most amusing, and featured plenty of mid-air acrobatics, flamenco and belly-dancing, before we held a midnight raid on Wendy's, of all places, with Taynah still in full Black Swan make-up. Earlier we'd gone to Gaby's old school en famille to vote in the mayoral elections, which the self-made, non-political right-wing empresario candidate (a gentler, less insane Trump, by the sound of it) won by a landslide. So we'll just see, won't we.
The day before, I went to Estudio Malibu for the monthly musical rave-up with Bob the Organiser and friends, which was rather fun and led to copious Beatles covers among other things, before degenerating into weird MPB (música popular brasileira) which I couldn't be doing with. I then broke my wingmirror while backing out on the way home, but recovered over homemade sweet 'n sour chicken, and should have it all patched up soon.
Accordingly, my phrase of the week - "braço duro" / "stiff arm" - is a slang term for a bad driver (and apparently what Ridaut used to call Ayrton Senna back in the day, when he didn't finish in first place). I've also thrown together a new compilation to tide you over until I get back from Blighty, and will no doubt speak to you from Isleham at the weekend.
Wish me luck!
Frodliver Oil
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