A slow week, as work continues to be not quite as negligible as I'd like and Gaby's course continues to devour her whole. We tried getting the cats together again at the weekend, this time at our place, but Valente is still riddled with post-op hormones and had to be quarantined at all times, so they've been separated again until he gets his act together or is returned to his owner, whichever comes first.
We also went to see a flat down the road, which was nice but ultimately a little pricey, so we've decided to grin and bear it here until our contract runs out - we also went to the local constabulary and now have a semblance of a plan in case there's another outbreak of manic barking in the middle of the night. And Gaby talked me into getting a deep cleanse at her dermatologist on Friday, which was less painful than expected but ultimately has made no difference to my face whatsoever, as far as I can tell (she seems to like it though...).
Elsewhere we're planning a trip up the coast to Paraty next month, as well as some sort of Xmas jaunt and of course our awesome Eurotrip next summer; I've made another compilation featuring the new single by Speelburg, a.k.a. the Artist Formerly Known as Noah, among other lovely things; and this week's phrase is one of my favourites: "suar como tampa de panela" = "to sweat like a pan lid".
Hope all well with you and yours, and let's speak soon!
Fred's Atomic Dustbin
No comments:
Post a Comment