My life's getting back to normal (what normal life for me is though, I'm still not quite sure) after the recession I went through from January to March, my folks being here didn't help even though they paid a lot for outings etc. I still had to fork out for more than I usually do during this period. Galloping Shrumkin's! but I don't want to go through that again and I'm looking for counter measures for next year and I'll have to haul my ass together and get my Welsh Folks tales written in Portuguese, hopefully to get published and make quantrillions here. My major problem is not so much translating but conveying the humour, or perhaps the writing itself. The kind of thing that flows from me (and I'm not talking about after a night of Biriani and 8 pints of Old Farty Bum Best Ale) in English just does not flow from me in Portuguese, though writing in Portuguese is not difficult for me writing in Portuguese is. The above parenthesis is an example, that just does not come out of me naturally in Portuguese and thus it takes a lot longer to write.

Spent yesterday NOT eating fish as tradition and religion dictate, but eating, yes my fave, barbecued red meat, chicken hearts and pork ribs. Being of pagan ilk I refuse to follow the "Good Friday" society rule of having to eat fish, at least here in Brazil that be the case, somebody tell me, is it the same in Wales? "Good Friday", I shall from now on call, Not So Bad Friday, or Crap Friday or Amazingly Brilliant Friday, according to what happens on the day.

Amazingly Brilliant Friday yesterday, we took a day trip to "Grandpa Rangel's Enchanted Forest". Unfortunately Grandpa Rangel's Enchanted Lake had shrunk somewhat, apparently due to Global Warming according to Grandma Rangel, and we could only dip up t'knees in luke warm murky waters while I had been looking forward to a full body spullunge off Grandpa Rangel's Floating Peir. Not to be wet blanketted however, I placed a few pieces of dead animal over hot coals and quaffed flagons of Grandpa Rangel's Fine Ale. Point of fact was we were obliged to quaff Grandpa Rangel's Fine Ale ("NovoSchin", crap Brazilian lager) as Grandma Rangel wouldn't allow us to take our own in order for her to make large proffits from inflated bar prices. I did however manage to sneak in a few cans of FBA in the cool box and Grandma Rangel didn't notice.