Or are we going 1.1, 1.2... 1.10 then 2.0, 2.1, etc until 3? I thought it was supposed to be "Three's a charm". My day started with our neighbour, at some ungodly hour (it was still dark in my bedroom and my alarm had NOT rung yet), revving his car in front of my bedroom. He must have revved for over half an hour. He then hooted for his kids... and went back to revving once they had all slammed and shouted their way into the car. After a while, I dozed off again. I should have taken the hint, though, when my pc, after numerous restarts, refused to connect to the internet. It had no right! Perhaps it needed revving too. Finally, I got up and running and was merrily checking my mail when the cat started crying for her ball. That can get annoying. She wants her ball and wants it now. Trouble is, her favourite ball is transparent and blends soooo well. I found it and asked Jorge to drill the hole in the ball a little larger, so that I could put a piece of ribbon in there, ...
We're finally in some sort of a winter here. We're in 'garoa' season, though I see there are warnings for heavy rains in many states. Garoa takes some getting used to. Imagine a rain that swirls like mist, penetrates everything, but differs from mist in that you feel the raindrops... ever so lightly... on your skin. This can go on for weeks. Dull... grey... cold... wet. Perfect weather for feijoada. This photo is for Ben ; ) Feijoada is traditionally, a dish made with pork, specifically the... uh... less salubrious parts, such as the ears, tail and snout. It has a long history here in Brazil though. The early slaves were given the 'leftovers' of the pig to use for nutrition. Cooked with beans and served over rice, it became a staple, prized, too, for the fact that you could stretch the one pot of meal out over a few days - or serve a veritable army. Today, the dish is prepared rather differently. I blogged that before, so I won't repeat it here. My way is somewhat ...
I thought I'd bring this old blog of mine across from 360°. I have added to it somewhat. "Decide that you'll be successful and happy come what may, and good things will find you. The roadblocks are only minor obstacles along the way." I got to thinking about the roadblocks and detours in our lives. What is a roadblock? One of Webster's Random House definitions is: road·block n. 1. an obstruction placed across a road, esp. of barricades or police cars, for halting or hindering traffic, as to facilitate the capture of a pursued car or inspection for safety violations. Yes, I know there are roadblocks that frustrate us and some may even be dangerous, but I'm thinking of the roadblocks that we usually encounter. You're on your way home at night, in a rush to get home and tuck into bed after an evening out. You are stopped at a roadblock. Sure, its frustrating, but why is the roadblock there? Ultimately, for our protection. Its the roadblock that checks for the ...
Every year, we would go to the South African Consulate Function in April. It was usually a rather grandiose affair, but on this occasion, they had outdone themselves. Food was French style, ie. more artistic than designed to sustain, with an appetiser of Carpaccio of Ostrich, a rare meat here, but fairly common in South Africa. Wine flowed freely the whole evening. Designer gowns, flashy jewelry, and fancy cars abounded. The venue was an upmarket Bingo hall, Imperatriz. The building was palacial, done in an African style, with dark African warriors lining the walls, huge tusks curving up towards the ceilings, which were lit with myriads of tiny lights. The entrance hall boasted enormous statues of elephants and giraffes. The place and the event epitomised extravagance to me in every sense of the word. Lindiwe Zulu, the South African ambassador to Brazil broke out in song during the speeches. I think the chap standing behind her looks somewhat uncomfortable. As you can hear by the ...
