My kitchen didn't look like this... quite

My kitchen didn’t look like this… quite

I bet you’re all wondering, willy or wonty?

I nearly didn’t.

I would have posted this morning, but as you all know I have lessons now on Saturday mornings, which just screws up the whole day.

Between 10pm Friday and 8am Saturday I have a whole ten hours free, most of which I spend sleeping, or at least trying to sleep, or peeing.

The remaining two hours doesn’t leave a lot of room for something blogworthy to happen.

So I did the dishes.

Awesome machine.... want one

Awesome machine…. want one!

I got home at nearly 2pm, resisting the call of the botequim and flopped. Yes, time for Nap-fu practice. I excelled

I woke about 3:30 and knowing there was a birthday party at my neighbours to which I was invited. I made a large batch of battered onion rings and toddled off next door. Besides, I wanted to see his new BBQ in action.

It’s not real brick, just a brick-like cladding over concrete, but it does the job.

The trouble is the price… R$700 which is about $300+ too much for me.

Lots of people; mainly neighbours whom I knew and many of his family whom I knew from previous BBQs.

The birthday boy’s mother was there. She was the lovely toothless old soul who, at the last BBQ, tried some of the R$50/bottle wine I had taken along, promptly spat it out on the floor and announced that it was vinegar.

It was a wonderful Merlot. When it comes to wines Brazilians generally like R$3/bottle sweet plonk. The country will never make the first world.

I didn’t take wine this time, that’s why I made the onion rings; I never go to an invite empty-handed. How crass?

Beer chillers

Beer chillers

There was lots of beer, so no problem. Now while Lincoln had a new BBQ, his beer chiller wasn’t quite so classy, but it did a grand job.

They have just painted the exterior of the house, one of the chillers was the paint barrel, the other an old, but slightly more respectable, polystyrene ice box without a lid. Which is just as well, because the speed at which it would have been lifted for beers would have melted the damned thing.

I didn’t stay long, because there was a chilling wind blowing through and as darkness approached, I made my exit, gracefully. Well, as gracefully as I could hobbling down the steep stairs on a walking stick with each footfall on the tiles threatening to send me express mail to the bottom where I was swamped by the kids, “Got any more of those ring things?” Praise indeed coming from the lower echelons of the family tree.

So, the answer to the question, “Willy or Wonty?”

I diddly!

Now it’s bedtime.

Later.

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