Good to chat yesterday, and delighted to hear everyone left your futurist dinner party suitably disturbed...
I'm just about getting over a nasty bashed rib, not to mention a harrowing couple of hours in the Brazilian public health system getting a free yellow fever jab, so have limited my excursions somewhat since my last missive. Instead people have come to us, including an impromptu dinner party with Ridaut and Adny on Saturday, where I whipped up steaming vats of sweet 'n sour chicken while Ridaut regaled us with tales of his mad French friends. 'Twas a test run for this Saturday when we entertain non-family for the first time, and I also have plans to cook everyone a proper roast dinner once it gets colder.
Elsewhere the house is slowly but surely taking shape, and we've booked most of the accommodation and flights for Euro '17 - now we just need to figure out what exactly we're going to do on a Tuesday night in Marrakesh, for instance. Tips and leads are most welcome! We've also been tasked with editing and scoring a promotional video for Gaby's gym teacher's experimental hydro-ballet class, in exchange for private lessons in the building's gym, which is just the kind of crazy hi-jinks we get into over here these days.
I've made not one but two compilations to ladle into your earholes (with my compliments to the folks doing the soundtrack to "Legion"), while this week's phrase roughly translates to "the more I pray, the more the haunting appears". Something to do with issues piling up despite one's best efforts - a more modern, atheist version might be "mo' money, mo' problems".
This is Fred, last survivor of the Nostromo, signing off...
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