Kitchen Sinks

A kind of polite truce now exists at home. Where is that IDEAL apartment / house in the classifieds??? It must have a kitchen sink of course AND a barbecue area essential. Swimming pool optional.

The Meaning of Liff

I'm on a sort of diet based around BEER and GARLIC; it explains why I don't suffer from colds often.
It also explains why I don't have too many friends.
What is the meaning of Liff? Look it up in the dictionary.

Closing the door behind me; opening the door infront.

The title is a challenge. What am I going to put there? The first line can put people off the whole thing. So whatever will be there after I've finished typing this may have nothing to do with the content of this paragraph. I take no responsibility, I've had too many beers today to be responsible for anything.
First off today; I'd like to publicly anounce, through this means, that is my BLOG, my separation from my dear wife. Yes after 12 happy and sometimes not so happy years we've decided to go separate ways. The kids already know, Alice (12) said, "Okay, that's sensible, let's find a nice place for dad to live", Francisco (7) said, "I don't agree!".
The first stage of this separation consists of me trying to find a place to live. I've seen some dumps and some dumps! The first thing that comes to my mind is: JEEZUS WHAT A DUMP. The next thing that strikes me is, when Brazilians move out they MOVE OUT, and take everything, including the kitchen sink - REALLY! "And this is the kitchen...you can put the fridge here, the cooker here..." etc. The "kitchen" is an empty cell block with a water pipe extruding from the wall - "You put the sink here...".
Apart from the trauma of separation, I'm currently working on something that will shake the literary world by its roots; well okay maybe just by a few twigs; all I have to say is: Wait until Porto Alegre Book Fair 2004 !!
The door behind will not be closed completely, I'll leave a space for the kids to get through, and maybe later...

Evil Sausage

My long absence is in part explainable by the fact that I've just had my folks staying with me for three weeks. My Dad, a spritely 68 year old with a slight beer belly, is not difficult to please, but if you get it wrong, and I did a couple of times, you really get to know about it. Just a cold beer and an open not too noisy place seemed to be the right formula. Consequently we spent most nights at Dado Pub, which my old man dubbed "Dai Doe's" making it sound a true Welsh traditional tavern. Their 3 week visit can briefly be summarized thus: Churrasco, Dai Doe's, Cisne Branco, Churrasco, Gramado, Dai Doe's, Churrasco, Porto Alegre Tourist Bus, Dai Doe's, Public Market, Churrasco and on the last night - YES Dai Doe's ! Frequent visits paid off. On our last night the entire staff of Dai Doe's got together and presented my folks with 4 Dai Doe glasses and a letter written in perfect English, "We enjoyed having you in our pub.....etc etc." signed by all the waiters. Tears for beers.
My dad didn't think much of the evil sausage.