The adoption police are coming

We are to receive the adoption police on Monday at 10:30. One assumes they will want to interrogate us with respect to our income, our bank balance, and our jobs, as well as to see how well prepared we might be to look after additional small persons. It is always tempting to question the justice of this when there are so many unwanted babies born here to single mothers with no visible means of support (does anyone remember that ad.?), but I have to admit it is for the most part very sensible stuff, so we will grin and bear it. At least (one hopes), they will not be asking questions like “what was your first sexual experience?”, which is one of the questions the British system poses to prospective adopters, along with a system of investigation which sometimes seems as logical, sensitive, unbiased - and expensive - as the Inquisition.

Are camera's broke

I’ll have to do something about the lack of photos on the blog at the moment, but you’ll have to be patient – I’m afraid our camera has succumbed to the heat and refuses to work. I’m not quite sure where we’re going to find the funds to replace it, cameras being a bit pricey here, but I think we’ll need to find it – there’s a whole rainforest out there to photograph. In fact (typically) since the damned thing broke we’ve had all sorts of opportunities to photograph stuff. Two nights ago, for example, the largest Praying Mantis I have ever seen fell in the swimming pool – it was so large, it emptied all the water out (okay, I’m allowed some hyperbole) – and although it subsequently popped its clogs, and although I carefully preserved it for two days before the ants carried most of it off, I have been unable to get you the pics you deserve. And even as I write, we have a baby bird outside which has fallen from its nest and which we are trying to take some care of which I would love to photograph, but alas it’s not to be. We have also planted more trees in the garden and built a new patio, been to various new places with our guests, and been up and down the Taruma in the Shamrock - all of which I would like to have photographed – but we are pictureless. Sorry. Normal service will resume as soon as possible.

The 2014 World Cup

All politicking has been forgotten, as a united Manaus becomes a hive of planning and activity in the run up to the most significant event in its history for a century as it prepares for the vast influx of visitors coming here for the world cup….ha ha…ha ha ha…no sorry, I can’t continue this piece without laughing too much. Ha ha ha...

Guesthouse Visitors

The guesthouse has been busy this last 8 weeks, with visitors from all over the place (France, Slovakia, Austria, New Zealand, the USA, Spain and even Brazil). And now we have the Irish arriving on 13th September: the first native-English-speaker we’ve had (I mean native-British(or Irish)-English-speaker). Apart from this, we’ve had no-one from the British Isles at all. Not even the merest whiff of a booking enquiry (and our guests on 13th are only here because they work for the Irish embassy in Brasilia...) What conclusions we are to draw from this I don’t know, but I’m beginning to suspect that – contrary to my expectations - the British and Irish would rather spend their hard-earned leisure time in Europe than anywhere further afield. Well, we’ll no doubt see how true this is over the coming months.

Weathering the weather

It is now bakingly, unmercifully hot here. The first three weeks in September are the hottest, driest weeks of the year, and although this gives us an opportunity to patch up the leaks in the house, it’s so hot you (I) can hardly work for more than 30 minutes outside without melting. But I’ve managed to slap what they call cold asphalt all over the exposed brickwork on the roof, and I’m hoping I’ll be able to make some repairs to the concrete guttering on Monday or Tuesday. It may be a big gutter, but the sheer volume of water that cascades into it from the huge expanse of tin roof (maybe 20m x 12m?) means it just isn’t big enough. Not only that, but the twit who designed it forgot to build in a proper slope, so that some of the water that collects either overflows straight into the roof void or slowly seeps into the surrounding brickwork. Never mind – into everyone’s life a little rain must fall – although I do wish it wasn’t through the ceiling.