24.04.18 - Engolir sapo

Halloooo,

Lovely to speak to you yesterday, but for the benefit of everyone who wasn't on the call - this week's top headline is Sunday night's triumphant Radiohead gig, my first since 2012.    We went to the fancy new Allianz Parque stadium in the middle of town (home to Palmeiras, so enemy territory...) and ended up in the cheap seats but with a fairly decent view.  I had a fantastic time, especially during Let Down and a rousing, set-closing run of No Surprises, Weird Fishes/Arpeggi, 2+2=5 and Idioteque, not to mention Paranoid Android AND Fake Plastic Trees at the end of the second encore.  

Gaby was less impressed, which is understandable given she couldn't see much, the sound wasn't great until about halfway through, the setlist was heavy on weird techno stuff and Thom was in a particularly odd mood, cackling manically in between songs (still warbled up an absolute storm on Pyramid Song and Nude, mind you) - not ideal conditions for a newbie.  I spent all week trying to convince her Radiohead don't deserve their sad-sack reputation, only for them to open the main set with Daydreaming and the first encore with Exit Music (for a Film), for example.  But I agreed to grout the balcony with her over the weekend so she wasn't allowed to complain.

Otherwise went to footy and band practice (going to start going to rehearsals in a fur coat), did a lot of housework, and braced myself against a tropical storm of work a-brewin' on the horizon.  Gaby's been doing so much sanding of walls that she ended up in A&E with mild carpal tunnel syndrome - at least the end is in sight... And this weekend it's ma birthday and I've booked a table at Dalva e Dito, by all accounts one of the best restaurants in town, which I'm quite looking forward to. 

I've made another two compilations, and my phrase of the day means "to swallow the frog", or grin and bear it - not unlike Egyptians during the great frog plague of Exodus, or Gaby at the concert...

Speak soon,

Radiofred

17.04.18 - Quem planta vento colhe tempestade

Ha, and indeed, lloooo. 

Hope all well over there and that the sun has finally got its hat on.  Over here we've been engaged in a war of attrition with our balcony walls, throwing spackling around wildly and giving the poor cat endless baths so he doesn't spread dust throughout the whole house. We're about halfway through, touch wood.

I've also been out to t'footy, where I scored an absolute blooter of a volley and accidentally bit someone on the head; to band practice where we expanded our repertoire still further; and to a housewarming out east on Saturday night, with pizza and caipirinhas galore.

I've made two more comps, and my phrase of the day translates as "he who sows wind shall reap the whirlwind", which is a very biblical way of saying what goes around, comes around.

Speak soon!

Freddy Perkins

10.04.18 - Vituttaa kuin pikku oravaa kun käpy on jäässä

Hallloooo,

Alles gut here - the summer's been drawing to a close so we've been making plans for Summer pt. 2 in Europe. We've had to move everything up by a week due to cost, so we're planning on swinging by between August 5 - 11th, if that's OK with you?  Let us know what we can do or bring to help out with the WEE BAIRN. Can't wait!

Not much has been going on otherwise, Gaby hurling wet gesso at the balcony walls and going to boxing lessons notwithstanding, although the city was briefly divided into warring tribes on consecutive days over the weekend - ex-Pres Lula was sentenced to jail (for real this time) and turned himself over to the feds after a tense standoff, then Corinthians beat Palmeiras to clinch the much-coveted Paulistano Championship. There was plenty of fireworks and honking of horns, let's leave it at that.

I've made two stonking compilations, while today's phrase of the week comes from Finland (the country where I quite want to be) and can be tactfully translated as "as pissed as a squirrel with a frozen pinecone". Frustration over something being just out of reach, I'm guessing.

Speak soon, innit.

Fred: the Movie

03.04.18 - Puxar brasa à sua sardinha

Hallooo,

Hope you had a spiffing Easter weekend; we had several blowout meals with various family members, and treated ourselves to the odd slice of chocolate bread. 

Otherwise we've been streamlining the house, in a manner worryingly consistent with the tenets of Swedish death cleaning - I now have a work station in the spare room, which I write to you from now, although I suspect it's part of Gaby's larger plan to turn it into "my room" and kick me out of our bedroom altogether.

I have made another compilation, and my phrase of the week ("to pull the campfire towards your sardine") means to try and make everything about you and your needs.  Such behaviour is obviously frowned on in the sardine-grilling community. 

Speak soooon,

Frod is in the House