São Paulo is the economic center of Brazil. When São Paulo goes down, the whole country feels it. Last night, on the dot at midnight, our internet died. I cursed and went to bed, as the internet has been dicey for a few weeks now with super slow speeds at times.

We woke this morning to the news that the whole of São Paolo was down. News later came in that the downtime was statewide. Our internet downtime meant that everything was down. Think banks, police, airports, the works. On tv (great crime-prevention move there), they announced that no one was able to make official complaints at the police (what happened to paper and pen?) and the cops weren't able to release bodies from the morgue without internet (we needed to know that). Our news tonight tells us that Annatel, the governing 'body' for telecommunications in Brazil, is considering a R$50 million fine against Telkom if they can prove negligence. This should get interesting. Take a guess who'll eventually foot that bill... the users. Speaking of footing the bill. We just got the delightful news, too, that our electricity is going up by 8.26% next month. That should go down well.

Yesterday, we were out the whole day. We only got home at 9pm. Tat had a job in. I was really proud of her. She worked hard and performed well. The director, a crazy British guy, asked her why she hasn't considered going into acting. Born and raised South African, she has spoken Brazilian Portuguese fluently from shortly after we arrived here... without any hint of a foreign accent. For yesterday's work, she had to do a huge section in an American accent, then follow up with a section using a British accent. According to the director, she is authentic. Not bad for a kid who's never been to either the USA or Britain. She just listens to the accent and replicates it. That is some talent.


Now I need to catch up with some mail. 'Someone' apparently put the internet on hold for us, but forgot to stop mail while I was down ; )

This morning, shortly after we got up, Jorge said to Tatiana, "Oh, Ana called for you."

Startled, Tat answered, "Who's Ana?"

"How must I know? Call her anyway," he replied, handing her the piece of paper with the name and number.

Tat ambled over to the phone. "Ugh! Mom! Look at this!" She pointed to the name, 'Ana Conda'.

"That is probably just your dad's idea of a joke," I said. "Call her anyway."

Tat is a good girl and listens to her parents.... sometimes. She called...

I tried hard now to remember her reaction, but Tat suggested that it wasn't repeatable. It went along the lines of... "Argh! What the.... DAD!!" Yes, that was a more simplistic version.

Why all the fuss? The number was to the local zoo. Naturally. Where else would Ana Conda live?

This photo makes me chuckle. The afternoon of my birthday, Tat and I went to the village to get some dinner ingredients and check mail. The pizzaria had a new batch of wood delivered and was closed. I stood snapping photos of the wood and the pigeons who frequent the place. The one pigeon, the blue-grey one standing in the middle lording it over the others, is a regular there. I have photographed him before. The pizzaria owner arrived towards the end of my impromptu photo shoot and asked if he 'could help'. The look he gave me was one of suspicion. I think he suspects underhand dealings. I offered to show him the photos, but he declined to look. I think he was just really weirded out by someone wanting to take photos of a couple of birds and piles of wood.

My birthday was wonderful!! Jorge decided I needed to be woken somewhere between 4 and 5am to be wished happy birthday. He was out when I got up much later. Tat scuttled off to the kitchen to pour coffee and bring me my brioche for breakfast. Brioche here is a sweet bun with glaze over the top. I smelt baking, but wasn't allowed to check. I then sat down at my pc to check mail and blogs. I was overwhelmed.... I still find it hard to believe how many people took time out to wish me a good day, some I haven't heard from in many months. A special thanks to Tat (of course), Picture Perfect (Heather), and Libby, for the very special (I have saved them all) blogs for my birthday. I was laughing and crying all the way through them. You guys are amazing! Then there's the PM's I received and the guestbook notes - I'm still trying to respond to them all! I feel loved *grins*

My day was spent on Skype and in my mailbox with friends calling and mailing to wish me well. I got great news that my friend, Fel was out of hospital and doing a lot better. We joked about her hair falling out, that, luckily, it happened at the hospital, so she didn't have to clean it up. Her husband is the sweetest thing. He's pretty bald himself, but shaved the rest of his hair, so they could both be baldies. I asked Jorge today if he would do that for me. He said, "Sure... in fact, I would do it now!" Dumb question... Jorge loves having little or no hair. We tend to harp at him over his 'convict cut'. He hates curls and has a natural tendency to curls. Daft man.


Supper time came and I was banned from the kitchen. Jorge and Tat went off to do supper.... a kind of mock chicken a la king that we have evolved here. I like it, as it is simple to make, light, and tasty. I did follow them though - with the camera. This is my favourite photo... a rare moment with dad and daughter working together. I took many more photos, mostly humorous, but this one is precious to me. While eating supper, we watched a little 'TV' (old rerun series) on my pc. Tat had bought some Torta Hollandesa for dessert. That stuff is divine. It is a chocolate cookie base, topped with a vanilla cream, which, in turn, is topped with a rich chocolate layer, followed by a single chocolate coated cookie.... rich, sweet, smooth, very satisfying.

In all, I had a wonderful day and I want to thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for the part you all played in it!

What a morning. We left home just after 5am to head into town to Poupa Tempo, the govt offices where Tat was to renew her RG. It was drizzly, tiny droplets of rain floating and dancing, never really hitting the ground, landing gracefully and soaking everything they touched. In the light of the street lamps, the overhead wires looked as though they were beaded with diamonds. We were about to take a photo when the bus arrived. The bus was packed with steaming bodies... shouted conversations, the bus conductor playing with cell phone tunes, a girl singing along to some private tune on her mp3 player. We swayed and bumped along as light crept almost imperceptably into the sky.

The fresh air as we got off the bus was delightful. A group of elderly folk in white with perky white caps were doing some form of slow movement... not sure if it was Tai Chi. The walk to Poupa Tempo was uneventful. We chatted and laughed, glorying in the fresh, cool air. At Poupa Tempo, we got into the queue to get the number to be in the queue - yes, confusing. We wanted to take photos of their fascinating old/new light fittings. These things were huge, very antiquey with flourescent lightbulbs in them. Needing permission from the building admin, we decided against it. When Tat's turn finally came, we were somewhat dismayed to find that hers wasn't an ordinary case. She has to choose her nationality... and no one really knew what the next step was, but we could find out at a 'cartorio'. The cartorio's are basically clerical offices set up as middle men between the public and the government offices. Just another link in the chain... just another palm to cross. The cartorio was going to open in around 2 hours. Nothing else is open in the city before 9am - Brazilians aren't early birds.

We set out to wander around Sé. Sé is a mostly-paved semi-park fronting São Paulo's main cathedral. The Sé metro station runs below. Sé is in the heart of the city, it's center. All city measurements are taken from this point. We took a photo of a gorgeous rain sprinkled rose, then crossed over to another garden, where we took photos of some really interesting flowers. A little further along, I took photos of some shattered safety glass on a 'bridge' going over the pond. We caught sight of some fragile plants with dainty bell-like flowers. I took a few photos and handed the camera to Tat. As I handed the camera over, her cell phone rang. In that split second when we both looked down to the cell phone, a 'wind' blew past. We were robbed. I say, 'a wind', as the bridge was empty. It was a big bridge and wide... there was not a soul to be seen other than the two youths over head in another 'pond' taking their early morning bath. It took a second to register what had happened. Tat was on the ball. She dropped the umbrella she was carrying and gave chase... yelling for anyone to catch the thief. I think this guy could have given Road Runner a run for his money. I have never seen anyone run like that. They look in the wrong places for Olympic athletes. I followed as fast as I could, but I'm not exactly built for high speed chase. Two other men joined Tat in the chase. The cops and security guards we passed just looked on.

The chase got to where the area was very dicey. My hot-headed, impulsive daughter finally stopped, thankfully. There were two cops on the corner. One kept muttering about not being able to leave the car and the other said, "Don't worry! I'll get on my white horse and chase the scoundrel down!" Ok, not quite in those words. He ran off. I think he must have fallen somewhere. He was still dapper when he returned, but obviously hurting. He was totally bewitched by Tatiana. After radioing a bulletin to the other cops in the area, he very 'officially' took down Tat's details, interspersing his assurances about catching the criminal with "I wish I had eyes like yours" and "You're very pretty" (how does she do it... even when she looks a wreck, she attracts them!). I suggested she autograph a photo for him ; )

Around that time, Tat's two fellow-chasers came back. They lost the thief in the bus terminus. It was assumed that the thief got on one of the buses. What astounded us was that these two were homeless men and they were angry! We thanked them profusely for their efforts. They went off swearing that if they caught the thief, they would make him pay. We made our way, slowly, back up to the scene of the crime. There, we found one of the chasers talking to a woman, also homeless. She was ranting that thieves like that bring a slur on them, as they don't steal. When they spotted us, they went on about what they would do if they caught him. I guess they have their own justice system.

We left the area and headed to the bus to go home, a little heavier in heart than when we arrived. Tat's documents could wait for another day. The lesson? Not that we should be more careful when going into town. That is a given. That boy stole to get a pitance with which he could buy his next bottle of glue - or he stole to 'pay' an older person... a controller. He was skilled at his 'art', probably having done that since he was barely out of his mother's arms, if he spent any time in his mother's arms at all. Then there was the two homeless men who helped give chase. They had nothing to gain from helping, though on hindsight, I think there was a reward expected. I think, though, that they chased because they saw a crime committed on their 'turf'. Yes, we learnt a lot about humanity and our perceptions of people this morning. As for me, the material loss is not welcome, but when I watched my child running, and sometimes losing sight of her - it was a long distance - I feared something happening to her. I cannot begin to describe the relief when I finally met up with her again and could put my arms around her. Life is precious.

I'm sleepy....

Thought I'd treat you to another dose of dimples ; ) I've been doing my nut getting the printing of Tat's ID photo right. Each program has decided to play up in its own way. Like the fat watermark? This photo won't be swiped... it had better not be or I'll go after blood. I had fun last night checking my site's statistics. I found one of my photos was being hotlinked to a forum. Kippy, stop laughing. It was a generic enough photo of an old man selling limes at the streetmarket. I wouldn't have minded all that much if it weren't for the bandwidth being used and the fact that it was being used in a not-so-savory environment. I love bandwidth theives though... they make life fun. I swapped the photo out with a huge banner in bright red accusing the user of theft : )  I doubt they'll leave the link up for much longer. 

The weather was hot here today with a token splash of rain this afternoon. It was rather fun walking in the rain to the village. I then had a bad kitchen moment. Mac 'n cheese was on the menu for tonight and the white sauce curdled - yay! Then, instead of putting the cheese into the rescued white sauce, I plonked it into the boiling water, which was on hand waiting for the pasta. Nice going there. Tat fished the, by then molten, cheese out of the water and rescued that. The whole meal was a rescue effort. Guess I'm grateful it was rescuable.

Anyhow, tomorrow morning, we need to be in town by around 6am *HELP!* to get into the queues for the govt offices dealing with RG's (what they call the local ID cards), so that madam can get hers. Then we need to get her registered as a voter - more fun, but at least that is closer to home.

Have a great day tomorrow, my friends. I have grand intentions of catching up with everyone when I get home. I'm getting behind with mail and blogs again.

I was tagged by an old friend who has been very patient with me - not that she had any choice in the matter. In short, I have to post a baby photo of myself, one of Jorge and one of Tatiana (she's gonna love me for this!)

I don't have baby photos of me. Some of you may already have seen this photo or at least another version of it. It is the closest I have to a baby photo. This is me, being strangled by my brother, Hamish. Poor guy was probably told to give me a hug.


Jorge has never been one for smiling in photos. I can't think why. It is a habit that started very early on. Every photo of his from babyhood is ultra-serious. I am deliberately posting a slightly older photo of him, as there is no true baby photo of me. Got to love that hair!


And now, ladies and gentlemen.... the pièce de résistance. Tatiana, comfortable as ever. We still harp at her about slouching ; )


Omg... I just noticed the similarity in the photos...... I'll say no more. Let the viewers decide and it has nothing to do with the peculiar fashions haha!

Oh wait... I have to tag some people... hm... who do I tag? Keep an eye out on your guestbooks *chuckles*

The Poetry of Tatiana Lasevicius

Last night, I fell asleep at the keyboard at around 9pm.For those who know me, this is unusual as 2am often finds me still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I had written a long birthday blog for Tatiana, only to hit send and have it vanish. If you don't post within a certain time span here, the page times out. I have just posted a suggestion on MUDS that this time be lengthened. That was frustrating. I fell asleep so early because I was up till 4am the previous night, baking the birthday cake, printing a couple of posters (thank you, my friend) for Tat and cooking pie filling for last night's meal. All the birthday preparations had to be done after Madame went to bed. It doesn't help that she's a night owl too and I virtually had to shove her off to bed in the end.

The day went well. My baby is now 18. Here, she can now legally drive, vote, drink, etc. Her signature is now valid on legal documents. If she were to kill me, she would be tried as an adult (take note, Tat LOL).


We started the day with coffee and cake. I will post a recipe of the cake, as it was really good, a vanilla cake with a brown butter topping - different. Pardon the messy desk here and the bad photo ; ) That is a screen capture from a tiny video.



Not long afterwards, Anne called from Holland (thank goodness for Skype) to wish Tat happy birthday. She is Tat's godmother. Anne is like me. We treasure our conversations in English and with friends, as we don't get that too often. I at least get to speak to Tat and Jorge, but she is on her own up there. She doesn't have communication issues really, but it is nice to speak in a language you're comfortable with. Four hours later and I was hankering for some quality kitchen time. When she hung up to take the dogs out, I dashed to the kitchen for some grub.

I was sitting with a mouthful of bread when the next call came in. It was my cousin from South Africa. She was my childhood playmate before a family feud separated us. We haven't seen or spoken to each other since we were... oh... way under 10 years old. She's a year younger than me. What a wonderful chat we had. There was no loss for words this time. We spoke for ages. The odd thing was that her memories are completely different to mine. I remember the times we spent at their place and she remembers the times they spent at our place. That was so peculiar. We chatted for ages. I learnt, at the same time, that my other cousin, the one I had the first contact with, has cancer, a melanoma. It was a blow. His cancer went into remission for a year and is now back. It's always one thing or another...

I woke up this morning in a 'mood'. I was tired. Somehow, we all managed to just misunderstand each other and snap at each other. I then decided some fresh air was in order. We went to the village to check for mail. Tat and I grumped all the way to the village. The road home was a little different. We didn't take our usual route home. We kept finding little pockets of magic, like the bird in my main photo. We walked and heard this trilling above us. There, in all the razor wire, was this little bird, scarcely bigger than my thumb, singing it's heart out. I have no idea what kind of bird it was. It was shortly joined by another bird. We watched them for a while before moving on. We picked some fresh grass seed for the bird at an overgrown lot and peeked in through the door of a walled off, abandoned old house. She was inspired by the scene to write a short story. Later, walking into the bakery, we heard "It's a kind of magic" by Queen. Yep... it's a kind of magic... if we just stop to look for it.

Jorge and Tat playing the fool

Bah Humbug! This is becoming a weekend ritual. Friday, our internet died... again. To give you some background:

Three months ago, we got, not one, but 4 phonecalls from our internet carrier, Speedy, telling us that as part of a fidelity thing they have going, we were to be upgraded from 1mb speed to 4mb speed, totally free, on condition we sign up with them for another year. Well, no problem. We like our net, so we agreed. Our internet started its problems then. We either ran on no speed at all or it would die completely. Last Thursday, it had one of its sudden death moments. The fault was tracked to the carrier. They had apparently 'moved' us, but not plugged us in (rather simplistic way of putting it). This time, we got the technician out again, as they couldn't find the fault... again. The technician said, "Sorry, I can't find a fault. Have you tried your ISP?" Jorge had called the ISP, not once, but a few times. Of course it wasn't their fault! Well, it was. Apparently, they hadn't switched our plan up with the upgrade and the carrier's 4mb didn't gel with the ISP's 1mb, so the whole thing caved in on itself. Numerous phone calls later and we were back online, but we've been more offline than on since then, as the upgrading of the actual plan is another issue and can only be dealt with tomorrow. Ugh! So, if I disappear again, you know why.

One good thing about offline is that I get things done. I actually did some housework *shock... horror* I also managed to scan in the photos that have been sitting here next to my screen for the past few months *blush* Yep, I invented procrastination.

I had a photo in mind for A Slow Read's Picture Perfect theme on Friday - 'Entangled', but having done all my scanning, I decided this photo was more appropriate.

One of the first things people usually notice about Tat is her hair, even more so when she was little. She had this mass of blonde curls... gorgeous, but a hairdressing nightmare ;) Tat used to talk about her tangles... can't think why :) We put special lotions and potions in her hair to make it easier to brush. Nothing could tame those curls! The word 'tangle' became an integral part of Tat's vocabulary, as in, "Don't touch my tangles", or something along those lines. The word evolved more when she got to putting tangles in her hair. I'm not sure how it happened, but it found us in a quandary in more recent years as to what to call those things that you tie your hair up with, as 'tangles' was becoming somewhat outdated. Yes, the elastic, scrunchie, bauble, whatever, used to tie up her hair was, for many years, called a 'tangle'. Funny, now that I think about it, even family friends would come up and say, "My, Tat, your tangles are looking so pretty today."

Let's just say that with all that scanning, I went on a rather intense trip down memory lane. So many memories... most of them happy, a few rather sad. On the whole, it was good. Now to tackle the next box of photos.... !