I woke up late this morning, groggy, as always. I’m not a mornings person on the best of days, but some days are harder than others. It doesn’t help that I’ve been sleeping badly, usually waking up with a crick in the neck and a creepy feeling from disturbing dreams. Who knows why. Perhaps my brain is revolting against the newly imposed fitness regime. Can’t blame it, really.
I stumbled to the kitchen to find Jorge pouring coffee from the flask. I make the coffee at night, as the coffee pot is really small and we drink our way through three of those pots for breakfast. This is my way of ensuring coffee when I wake up. Jorge poured the coffee into the mug and the mug was full… no room whatsoever for milk. I like my coffee really strong, and I make the coffee for the flask super strong with this in mind, but with a lot of milk. I have always had it like that and after 22 years of marriage, you’d think he would know that. *rolls eyes* I quietly freaked. We emptied some of the coffee and I added the hot milk, then slunked off to the computer to wake up. I was just getting into my mail, when I reached over and accidentally hooked the handle of the coffee mug, distributing a fair quantity of the brew over my desk and lap. Naturally, I expressed my dismay rather loudly and not very politely. Ok… I’m awake now… enough already. Jorge grabbed a towel from the other room and I set about mopping up. Whew… the keyboard was dry. I lifted it to mop underneath. Oh blast…. some of the coffee was on the underside of the keyboard and ran in through what I can only assume were drainage holes in the keyboard. What on earth were they thinking putting holes there?!
A second or so of typing proved beyond doubt that my keyboard was in serious trouble. I powered off and stripped the keys, figuring I may as well clean them at the same time. It was, as I expected, dry underneath, so I put the keys back. I then opened the back. I checked, Jorge checked… it all looked dry. I put it together and it still didn’t work. We figured a new keyboard was due then. Trouble is, this is the start of a long weekend, so the earliest I could look for one is on Tuesday. I borrowed Jorge’s keyboard to answer a couple of messages, while he took mine to strip it completely and attempt a fix.
Thing is, when Jorge sees either one of the women in the house upset for any reason, he starts getting stupid. He mocks frustrated tears (I cry very easily… yeah… I know it is dumb, but it’s just the way I was made, I guess). The more he made stupid comments, the more angry I got and the more I cried. The more I cried, the more angry I got with both him and myself. Add hormones to that and you have a weepy killer on the loose. I eventually blew up, yelled at him, yelled at Tat for trying to play peacekeeper (that, after all, is my role… how dare she take it), grabbed my keys and my purse and stormed out. That was probably my best move of the day.
I walked and walked. I saw streets I’d not been to before. I saw a property that would leave Alice bewildered in Wonderland. Choose a door?
Here, when a property is demolished or abandoned, they put a wall up in front. I guess this lot just got creative. Judging by the plant growth, that property has been vacant for some time. A lot of those doors would be made from what is called ‘noble wood’ here, Ipê or Pau Brazil. When we find old doors that have been thrown out, we salvage them. Jorge makes the most amazing things from that wood and you can’t buy it any more, as it is protected now.
I walked on, did some shopping (needed to get supper goodies for Monday when the shops will be closed), and walked some more. I found myself down a couple of cul-de-sacs and had to turn around. I’m sure I must have looked like a lost bag lady with my shopping bags, stopping, gazing at scenes, walking deep in thought. My appearance couldn’t have helped, as I stormed out without the usual ‘fixing up’.
I made a friend or two on the way… .
Right next to this kitten’s home was a home that was something out of a Garden and Home magazine. Ok, it was not a large home, but it was beautiful. I stood for a while admiring the garden, with its resident rottweiller before spotting the kitten on the wall. She looks like a raccoon, don’t you think? The marking isn’t so clear because of the darkness of the photo, but she was pretty. Anyhow, this house, by contrast had a cheap, coloured whitewash, bright blue and badly painted…. that part which still retained some of its paint. Movement up the driveway caught my eye. The scene was one I hadn’t seen in a while…. two women doing laundry at their outside basin. I thought of my washing machine that I curse… then I thought back to my first two years here in Brazil, when I was the one outside at the basin, scrubbing. I am grateful for what I have. It’s not perfect, but it beats a whole lot of lifestyles.
I finally made my way home. Tat was baking banana bread and Jorge was nearly done with the keyboard, which is now working beautifully. Life goes on. Tomorrow will be better. I learned a few lessons today… good ones.