My Lungs are Black (or, I survived another São João)

It seems like only a few weeks ago that I posted about last year's São João... all the corn food and smoke and dancing.

Well, it came and went again, and my lungs are not unhappy to see it go.

I had fun, of course. We walked around looking at everyone's bonfires and trying to see if we could recognize any faces through the ashy billows...


Then we danced (pictured here is my enthusiastic dance partner) and ate corn food. Luckily, I did not eat as much corn food as last year so I did not spend all day today in the bathroom.

My egg is old

I have been informed by a faithful reader that my egg post has expired and that "yea, it stinketh". So I am doing my blogly duties.

This is a picture of my vacation. Here I am, wearing my "family bathingsuit", running a special kind of race invented by my godson. In this type of race, the judge/animator of the race makes two long squiggly, swirly, twirly lines on the ground (not necessarily of equal length). He then appoints two people to run along the contours of the lines. The person who gets to end of his/her line first wins. We found that, interestingly enough, the winner frequently was the contestant appointed to run along the shorter line.

This picture was taken before the fateful dinner at the pricey restaurant whereupon I acquired a case of food-poisoning and shortly there-after puked up all the expensive food.

Restaurants should have some sort of a return policy, seriously. Like, "Guaranteed to Stay Down! Or Your Money Back!" I guess in a way, though, it was really my fault. I think there is a sort of common-sense rule that fancy Italian restaurants that serve large cubes of bologna as appetizers should be avoided without a second thought. I ignored this common-sense rule and paid the consequences.