Books.

[contd. from the last post]

The very 1st thing I sorted were the books. It seemed the easiest place to start.

On a practical level, I know that [just about] everything I want to read must now be available for download to my Kindle, but it was still hard to say goodbye to books I'd had for decades.

Happily, a few have since been adopted by friends. A few hundred more are on their way to a charity and hopefully, a new good home.

*

Here are some I'm keeping [for now].

TinTin, and Asterix and Obelix. 

I don't know what they're like in French but whoever translated Asterix and Obelix into English should get some Cleverness Award.

Footrot Flats. 

This might not be familiar to anyone living outside of Australia and New Zealand but they are the. best. comics. evah!

Footrot Flats reminds me of my brother because I first read it while staying at his place in the late 70s. 

This might even be when I first learnt about pigdogs.

Does Major remind you of anyone?

^

^

^

A Night In The Hard Life Of A PigDog.

"What do you mean, it's time to get down?"

"Why can't I sleep on the bed like a normal dog?"

*why? *grumble*

*WHY?!*

*it's not fair*grumble*

*grumble* are you sure you don't want me sleeping with you tonight?*grumble*ARE YOU SURE?*

"OK then. Could you cover my head at least? It's hard to sleep with the light on."

Obviously, not all pigdogs are as scary as Major.

^

^

^

Gerald Durrell. 

These were my favourite childhood books. Corfu was my first dream destination. I wanted to see Mr Durrell's strawberry-pink and daffodil-yellow houses so badly, and to wander the hills and grub around the dirt with him. Sadly, I have yet to set foot on the island.

The Lord of the Rings. 

This set was a present from Sister 1, possibly from the late 60s or early 70s. I can't count the number of times I've huddled over them [and The Hobbit]. Mostly when I was unhappy with the real world which, as a teenager, was quite frequent. Of course I fell deeply in love with Aragorn, who I assure you, looks nothing like Viggo Mortensen.

Dr Suess, Maurice Sendak and miscellaneous books with biG lEtteRs and nice drawings. 

I swear to you, the book below fell open at this page when I was looking for something to shoot.

I like messages from the cosmos.

Do you have a favourite Suess? This one's mine.

Most of these *ahem* children's books, I bought as a grown up, which goes to show you what a book snob I am. 

I might have mentioned before that I still have the Where The Wild Things Are that Sister 1 gave me when I was a teenager. Someone will have to pry that from my cold dead fingers one day.

Some Very Old Books. 

These belonged to my father, or to my sisters or brother. My mother wasn't much of a reader. I'm guessing some of them are from the 50s or even before that.

Obviously my parents weren't too serious about this one.

Although these books don't hold any special memories for me, I'm still finding it hard to give them up because...

...I love the way they look.

And finally, proof that I must have been chirpy once. Maybe even someone's ray of sunshine.

A very, very long time ago.

*

You can hardly call this a book cupboard any more! But that's okay. Until my memory fails me completely, the stories will be in my head.

Do YOU have any favourite books you could never give up?

Nostalgia with a capital N or The Meanderings of a Tired Mind.

Spring is just a week old but it already feels like summer.

I do believe I've started to shut down and let go, which is very liberating.

Jasmine from our little garden.

The tulip magnolia tree outside the study window is buzzing with green.

For more than 2 weeks now, While The Other Half has been researching Somewhere Else and How To Get Us There Without Too Much Argument, I've been cleaning house.

I spend a good part of every day methodically sorting through our trash and treasure. It's been a lonely job, very cathartic, and it's made me more than a little Nostalgic. Especially since there are now little bags, boxes and piles of things to be given away, sitting in random rooms.

It may be a little premature, since we have absolutely no idea where or when we're going yet. But what the hell. If nothing happens, at least we'll have a very clean house.

Over the next few posts, I'm going to put down some of the memories I've uncovered. Here in this blog, because I have nowhere else to store them.

If nothing else, they'll be here for me and my 3 equally reclusive siblings to enjoy. [They do read this blog when I force them to send them links and a text message saying PLEASE READ! IMPORTANT LIFE CHANGE ISSUES! or something eye-catching like that.]

So that's my Plan A for next week. I hope it works out. I'm quite bad at pre-planning posts and I have no Plan B.

Now, over to *ahem* The Dog, who dictated this before she went off for her Saturday special phở bò lunch with her Cushion.

*

Dear Everybody, it's me! Do you remember me? [You don't have to answer that. I'm just being sarcastic.]

Apparently, I get the last word. So kind of The Typist.

Here's my big news! Spring is here and it's getting warm again. I'm so happy my sunny spots are back. 

I'm going for lots of walks these days! If I make My Cushion feel guilty enough, I get to go out almost 3 hours every day! The Typist thinks we're mad to spend so much time on walks but we don't care what she thinks. I will soon show you some of my walks, as soon as The Typist lets me.

Here are some trees and flowers I saw on one of my walks. 

These ones may still be sleeping.

These ones are wide awake though!

More news! The Typist has started to speak funny to me. I now understand her even less than usual.

My butt is on the floor. Ergo, I am sitting.

I might have a little lie down now.

^

^

^

 That is just so disturbing.

One of The Typist's friends wrote this for her. 

Thanks a lot, Pablo. 

Should I be worried? I think Something Big is going down but I don't know what yet. It's killing me! Why is the dog always the last to know?

^

^

^

And by the way, Typist, may I just say I HATE it when you call me ... "The Dog"?

I have a name you know.

That's it for now! Until the next time, please be good like me. Hooroo! ¡Adiós! Whatever! Georgia Little Pea X

3 wishes.

This is, I suppose, finally! a continuation from my story of our perfect day on that beach in Bahia.

*

It was grey and wet, the day we took a bus from near the Mercado Modelo in Salvador to Igreja do Bonfim. 

The little church wasn't far away, though with the weather and traffic, the ride took longer than I expected. 

I'd first encountered the name, Igreja do Bonfim, and the lembrança do Senhor do Bonfim da Bahia ribbons for which it is famous, in capoeira. 

The name of the church appears in many capoeira songs. The ribbons were tied around wrists and ankles of fellow capoeiristas and usually looked rolled up, tattered and quite horrible. 

Somehow, I developed an obsession with these ribbons and they were all I ever asked for from friends who were travelling to Brazil. 

You can read about the history of the church and the meaning behind the fitas [ribbons] ...sometimes called wish ribbons in the commercial West]... and how to use them >>> HERE.I found out many new things myself, from the article. And Rose, you're right about the colours!

*

When I was planning our own trip, I knew I would have to visit the place where the ribbons came from, and duly marked the spot in my trusty Lonely Planet and put aside a day for it.

Here is what the Igreja de Nosso Senhor do Bonfim looked like on that grey day when we visited.

Looking back at our pictures, now already almost 11 months old, I see we only have 3 of the church [but a lot of the ribbons]! So I took the liberty of finding a few more interesting ones for you.

Pic from HERE.

Pic from HERE.

Pic from HERE.

Read about the Sala dos Milagres or Room of Miracles in the link above.

Back to our pictures.

The fence outside has thousands of fitas, presumably tied on by people who made wishes.

The shops nearby had many more.

I include this sign here, in case any would-be traveller to Brazil chances by. 

Please note: there is absolutely no need to panic and buy 75 fitas for 20 reais at the praia in Salvador from a man who tells you he needs the money for his starving children, but whom you will later see in a loud Hawaiian shirt at the bar.

One of the other things I most remember about that now-long-ago day, were the dogs.

As usual, they seemed to belong to no one, but were placid and friendly.

We noticed a few locals put their leftovers from lunch out on the kerb for the dogs. We bought some food for them as well. 

I worry so much about what goes into Princess Georgia's mouth, whether it's nutritionally sound or has preservatives. These dogs, like so many around the world, will eat anything that fills the tummy.

Do you see what is around the neck of this dog?

Although he came up to us for food, we could not touch or catch him to remove the wire. We spoke to locals who told us they'd also tried but he was too nervous, and aggressive if anyone tried to touch him. I wonder how he is now.

*

I finally thought to write this post because a couple of weeks back, a blogger friend asked me what those ribbons were, that were attached to Georgia's collars.

Thanks for asking, Rose! :)

I've always tied them onto Georgia's collars to make her look more girly, so passersby will stop telling me, "What a handsome dog he is!" [though that hasn't worked too well].

I also tied them on because I had [and still have] a lot of wishes for my dog. 

The 3 that I make, 1 with each knot I tie, has always had to do with her behaviour, her health and her happiness.

In the early days, the 1st wish I made was always "Please make her a good and gentle dog."

If you read the Very Interesting Link I provided up top, you'll know it's fairly dangerous for me to have told you that! But I think it's okay, because those fitas have long since disintegrated and been pulled or fallen off. 

Anyway, I like to think the wish has already come true.

*

If you had 3 wishes to make, for yourself or your dog, what would they be?