Gardening - or how to break your back and enjoy it

A little more work done today.

Planted the lawn seeds. Didn't read the instructions on the box... so it was done a bit differently, but fingers crossed, some grass will grow.
The berry bushes are sprouting!

Strawberry pots! Planted a week ago, they are looking very handsome. The pots are fixed to this metal shelf unit by means of clamp ties through the bottom holes of the pots around the metal wires of the shelves. They are well secured!

First plant bed to be filled with earth. The garden is a bit low and get damp very easily if it rains. So we're adding more earth to the beds to lift them up a bit. It's hard work, carrying those carts full of earth. Go Dustin! 7 carts, if my memory serves me right, plus one full of wood chips for the entrance of the garden.

The greenhouse is home to a few sprouting buds of kale, paprika, cucumber, lettuce and parsley. Soon to go in the ground!

These beautiful crocuses were in full bloom last week, and gone today. Sign that spring is full steam ahead! Next year they will sprout through the grass. If the grass planting works, that is. Wish me luck!

Gardening is starting to pick up!

The crocuses are blooming!

Did a bit of planting today, some dahlias and another flower bush I forget the name.

The rosemary bush is small but pretty an healthy.
The allotment is coming to life all over.

Can you see the windmill?

More soon!

Gardening is good exercise!

Those two little square flowerbeds in the background is what I worked on today. Bit of digging and moving the earth around, preparing it for the veggies. Found a couple of dhalia roots in there from the previous gardener, moved them to the foreground bed, in the back right corner. It would be cool if they survived, grew and bloomed again.

Still to do, is the last larger veg bed in the front of the greenhouse. Will tackle that next.

And the little rosemary plant that went in the gound a week ago, is looking fine! The same cannot be said of the wellies.

More next Sunday! If it doesn't rain.

Gosh, I haven't written in ages!

It was my new year's resolution couple of year back, and I blew it. Darn. Gonna have to do something about it. In the interim, here's my garden. It's an allotment in a comunity garden. Looking forward to eating my own beans and paprikas!

Perceptions: Is Portugal Poor?

The other day a Dutchman told me he had been to Albufeira for a holiday and that, although Albufeira looked fine, the surrounding area looked very poor. It was shocking for me to hear that. I know Albufeira, one of my best friends lives there. As a Portuguese national, that's not my perception at all. 

Is this the nice bit? (The Albufeira beach, in the Algarve, south of Portugal)

And this the not so nice bit? (Odeleite, village in the interior of the Algarve)

That got me thinking about the general perception foreigners have of Portugal, given the widespread information conveyed by the likes of The Financial Times, that classifies it as a part PIIGS, the derogatory term used in finances for the economies of Portugal, Ireland, Italy, Greece and Spain. 

What is the idea that, e.g., North Americans have of Portugal? Just a notch above Albania? Or a notch below Greece, Italy or Spain, everyone's holiday destinies of choice? Even though they are also part of PIIGS...
(I would like to hear what your perception is! Please, comment!)

Then I got thinking about this concept of poorness, and about the image (or lack thereof) Portugal projects. How can you determine a level of destitution or affluence, and convert it to perception? 

Comparison is a good tool as any.

Portugal is (steadily) recovering from a very debilitating financial crisis, has low salaries, high unemployment and immigration rates. Those are all factors that indicate poorness to the western world. However, you have to consider this in the context of Europe - more specifically, in the European Union - where you can find countries like Sweden, the UK or Germany.

Unemployment rates in a few EU countries

This week, the INE (national statistics institute) has revealed a decrease of 2 percent points in unemployment

Once you put that into perspective, the concept of poorness takes a very different turn. If you compare Portugal to Denmark, it is indeed poor... er. Is it poor, though? Not by a long shot, not for a few decades. Plus, things are getting back to normal and the country is recuperating.
Also, things may be changing in the way we perceive ourselves as well. Recently, a survey made by AirBnB had surprising results:
Porto voted preferred European destination for Americans (in AirBnB)
I think we are shedding that lack of self-confidence and inferiority complex we suffered from for so long and finally learning to appreciate our land a little, see it for the beautiful place that it is, and learning to sell this amazing product we have. Portugal is not poor, it is a privileged, rich country in Europe. It has its problems, many challenges to overcome, that's true. Which country doesn't? But the landscape is gorgeous, the climate temperate, the history old, the culture diverse, the atmosphere dynamic, the gastronomy delicious, the people industrious, creative, inventive and friendly.
There is something for everyone.
Do you want to ride a balloon across the plains of the Alentejo, walk/cycle through 2000 years old Roman bridges, visit the castles, or simply lay on a virgin beach? This is the place for you.

Do you prefer the nightlife, shopping, see modern architecture or just park your boat and have lunch by the river? This is the place for you.

Do you want to move here? Inform yourself properly, learn the language, bring innovative ideas and a will to work hard, like you would anywhere else. This could be an option for you.

Vila Nova de Gaia                                                                           Amadora

Sure, there is still some of this. We're working on it. So is the UK. And even the graffiti is better in Portugal.

Amadora                                                                              Bath, UK

There is nothing poor or derelict about Portugal. It's an European country with lots to offer in every respect. So, don't be fooled by the bards of economic tragedy and strife. They are talking about money, not about real life. Definitely not about the real Portugal.

Mr. Silva (fictitious name) here may not have a million in the bank, or better still, under his mattress. But he's not poor, he's happy and he'll gladly pop open a bottle of wine and share a good chunk of his best smoked ham with you. Having a simple life is one thing; being poor is quite another.

The Berlin Extravaganza 3

For the previous chapters, see The Berlin Extravaganza 1 and The Berlin Extravaganza 2

In we went, arm in arm with Nile. Backstage was clinical white. There was a sign saying Medical Rooms pointing to where we were going. When I read it out loud, Nile said "I know!", acknowledging the irony. Some coincidences are just too freaky some times. 

And then it's all a bit of a blur, the order of events being unclear to me now. The band were getting ready to hit the road on the way to Frankfurt, so everyone was rushing to get out of the door. There were other people claiming Nile's attention, it was a bit frantic and I was star struck. There was such a feel of hastiness and hurry, that I unconsciously got sucked into it myself. I don't know how long I was backstage, I don't remember what I talked to Nile about, though I don't think I said much of any consequence. I was in a sort of cool daze. But this much I remember: a calm, collected, kind man right in the middle of mayhem. While I was letting myself be taken into the flow, he remained quietly standing, letting it all flush by. That's what Nile is like, I suppose.

Oh, but it was wonderful! And I do remember some of it!

My husband and I noticed Nile was tired, and it was my better half who said "Do you need sometime for yourself?" Nile gladly took it, saying "Yes, I need a couple of minutes".

I took the opportunity to run off to Kim and Folami's dressing room, to find the two nicest, patient, loveliest ladies ever. I was being a totally silly fan and they put up with me with a laugh!

Back to Nile's dressing room, I caught Jerry and had a photo taken. Literally caught him, grabbing his coat and everything!

Nile & me in his dressing room, me with Kim & Folami, and me grabbing Jerry's coat for a photo

I'm holding my copy of Le Freak upside down, which Nile kindly signed (oh prized possession!). That pretty much sums up the whole experience for me. Metaphorically speaking, that is. In a Diana Ross upside down sort of way. 

 

Nile & Me

This whole backstage experience was a first for me, and one I will certainly never forget as long as I live. It is, however, the third time I came across someone who had a part in writing the music that moves me, the first being Dave Grohl back in 1998 and the second John Taylor in September last year. But those are another two blogs - at least.

What is it that makes us want so much to be around the people we admire, to surpass obstacles in order to get there, only to find ourselves facing that person and be at a complete loss for words? Where do all the things you want to say go? 

I missed the show almost entirely in Berlin, but come September, Chic will be playing in Amsterdam, at the Paradiso, and when the doors open, I will be the first one in. Or second. Definitely in the first ten! A whole bunch of us from Nile's blog will be meeting and I can hardly wait for it. 

Thank you, Nile, for being the gentleman you are, and thank you all members of Chic, you are a class act! See you in the Summer!

The Berlin Extravaganza 2

Continues from The Berlin Extravaganza 1

We got to the Max-Schmeling Halle, where Chic were going to play, by 8:30pm. But at approaching the building, I could hear Chic playing Dance Dance Dance inside. My heart sank. We hurried to the door but there was no guest list there. My heart sank a little more. Off to the VIP entrance, and they didn't know about any guest list either. It was my own "aw-f*ck-off" moment.

Side remark: The aw-f*ck-off story is pretty funny, watch Nile Rodgers telling it here:

 

So, there I was at the door, saying "I'm a guest of Nile Rodgers", all bright eyed and bushy-tailed. And the response was "Raus!", which is an approximate German version of "get the f*** outta here".

My hubs and I almost went back to the hotel to write a song called Le Raus, but we decided to keep trying to get in instead.
 
It took a lot of comings and goings and argumentation before we, and another group of people in the same situation, managed to finally get inside, with only normal tickets in our hands. Over a good half-hour had gone by, and by the time we got inside, Chic were, appropriately and ironically, playing Le Freak.

After running around like a headless chicken (husband's description, not mine, but it's probably accurate), approaching someone who said "I'm with Kool and the Gang, I know nothing about those dudes", and someone else pretending not to hear me or speak English, I learned a lesson: telling somebody, who is standing by what looks like the backstage door, you're the artist's guest - is useless - they're not going to believe you.

By then Chic had been playing the last song on their set, with a stage full of fans, dancing to the groove of Good Times. There's something about that song that turned something hopeless into something great. Good times were coming! 

The set ended and we found we were on the right side of the stage (left stage). My husband, the absolutely wonderful dear, called out to me saying, "Nile is here!", signing autographs, taking photos and talking to the fans. I called out to Selan, another wonderful dear and keyboard player with Chic, and asked for his help. Soon enough, this:

All is well that ends well. Everyone that had been invited got in. My heart lifted. Everything was perfect again.

(The Berlin Extravaganza III)

PS: Those dreads are so soft and smell so good - I thought I'd share that with you.

The Berlin Extravaganza 1

It was a day like any other, until someone asked Nile Rodgers on Twitter if Chic was going to play in Berlin on the 25th February, and he replied "Yes!" Immediately, the dented wheels in my brain started moving and clonking about the prospect of a much awaited meeting with the man behind so many of the great songs that have paved the paths of our lives for the last 35 years or so. And in Berlin of all places, the city I'd longed to see for such a long time.

So off we went, for a long weekend in the capital of Germany and a night of disco and funk, my alternative rock husband tagging stoically along.

It was cold and snowy and the city bustled under grey icy skies, but that didn't stop us from scurrying about the tourist must see, taking it all in, the Brandenburg Tor and the protesters outside the US Embassy, next to the infamous Aldo Hotel, a Starbucks with no seats (the scrooges), off to the ZDF café instead (much better), a gasp getting out of the subway into Check-point Charlie, as though the weight of all that had happened there still lingered in the air, the bits of wall turned into works of art, the beautiful subways stations, the great big modern buildings, the rebuilt monuments, a constant reminder of standing up again after the devastation of war, the man offering to help us when we stood staring clueless into a map (thank you Berliners, you rock!), smiles on people's faces everywhere, delicious brunches hidden in patios or by the lake, the film-like eeriness of the Nikolaikirche in the night, as the foggy mist and black birds softly floated around it, the busy Alexanderplatz, the art, and life, and energy of an unique city.

Everyone I know who's been to Berlin say they love it. Indeed, you can't but.

             Nikolaikirche                       The Berlin Wall                                Mitte

And then, Monday the 25th arrived, the day I'd been waiting for. Chic were playing a sort of festival of funk, and the line-up on the venue's website made me think they would be the ones before last to come on stage. Doors opened at 8pm, so we had time to rest our weary feet after spending the day sightseeing. After all, we were on the guest list. This was Berlin, the capital of the country renowned for its efficiency. There was nothing to be concerned about...

(to be continued)
(The Berlin Extravaganza II)

The ups and downs of a translator's travellings

Travelling alone for work is no piece of cake. It's no holiday. It's no sightseeing frolics. What is is, is airports, hotels and being stuck in the office. It's wondering where to have dinner, alone, and thinking about getting a sandwich and eat it in your hotel room instead. It's missing your sweetheart and your cat. Does that sound pathetic? Well, it isn't. That's the down side, there is always a down side to things and down sides should be dealt with forthwith. Done. 

Travelling alone for work is going to far places. It's trying new foods. It's testing new approaches. It's learning new words. It's being driven by a tram conductor flaunting a great, big, spiky Mohawk (in that tram, yes). It's scrambled eggs for breakfast. It's being surprised by the hotel providing a Portuguese newspaper (even if it is O Jogo). It's buying souvenirs. It's doing things that matter with people who care. It's being stuck in the office with those people who care doing those things that matter. There will be doctors and nurses saving peoples lives with the help of a machine that speaks their language because I translated it, checked it, and gave it the Go Ahead! Does that sound cool? You bet it is. That's the up side. And the up side of things is what makes you go on that trip for work again and again, by yourself, without complaining.

Source: Luk Thys, courtesy of Finland Tourist Board

* I didn't bring my camera this time and I want to post this now. So. That's why.

Source: me. My adorable Lizzy.

"...And Down Goes The Sky" via Indiegogo

UPDATE:

Au4 have gone Indiegogo! As an independent, unsigned band, this is a way to raise funds for touring and printing materials, such as CDs or LPs (vinyl), but also other goodies fans always want and get for the contribution they make.

So head on down to their campaign page at Indiegogo and be generous - support independent musicians! Au4 make great music and great music should be appreciated.

You can read my amateurish insights about the record here.

You can listen to the album here.

“…And Down Goes The Sky”

MySpace was an amazing vehicle for musicians a long time ago... In 2006, a quirk of fate sent me to the page of Au4 to fall in love with their music. I found them again on Facebook about a year ago, and waited for an announced second album. When it arrived, on 5th December 2012, it was like 6 years went by in a flash.

 “…And Down Goes The Sky” is that much awaited second album of this Vancouver based band. (Much awaited by me, that is, and a hand full of fans, as this project is little known outside the Canadian borders, as mind boggling as that may be.) It has proven the pattern of second albums, in my experience. It not only surpasses the first album creatively and technically, it overcame every expectation I might have had.

This is not an evaluation, as I can't really explain, nor would presume to explain music the way a music critic does, I just like it or I don't. But I wanted to say a few words about this record. I also wanted to wait some time before saying anything, to allow the initial excitement to die down, and actually see if I still enjoyed listening to it after having heard it the first few times, put it away, and listened again. And so, today, I can tell you this: it made it through the test.

Being labelled as electronica, with influences such as NIN and Sigur Rós, both amazing projects (the latter being one of my all-time favourites), you will be surprised at how Au4's music does not sound like that at all. There is a very intense organic side to it, brought in by string and brass sections, deep and full bass lines and perfect voice harmonies. This record is indeed a masterpiece that defies classification. The melodies are moving, the arrangements voluminous, grandiose at times, and then a streamlined, almost spartan voice surprises you with that apparent simplicity only perfect inspiration can produce.

It also delivers in the form of words, with lyrics that present a theme and an argument. According to the band, as described in their website (by clicking on each song, you will get a synopsis of the meaning behind it), these 11 songs tell tales on losing faith, on discovering that God does not exist and that there is no heaven to look forward to.

Perhaps that's true. For the sake of that argument, I will say that these same 11 songs remind me of that scene in the film Amadeus, where Salieri describes the music of Mozart as the voice of God. Now, hold down your horses, I'm not comparing Au4 to Mozart! My point is that, as I see it, God is not an ominous figure hanging above us in the heavens, as in Michelangelo's The Creation of Adam. It is in us and it shows itself through those of us who create beauty. Au4 have created something beautiful.

As for heaven, it's also not a physical place where you go to when you die if you've been good; it resides in that place in our souls where we go to when we are given the opportunity to experience such beauty. Every time you say "I'm in Heaven!" for whatever reason, that's where Heaven is. Listening to this album is a 64 minutes holiday in Heaven. Every single time. And there are a few clouds nine in there, in the angelical So Just Hang On, Beautiful One, in the laughter and love that fills Forever Dancing Under a Fallen Sky, in the poetry of These Subtle Lights ... all of it right here on Earth.

If there's any plausibility in this theory, Au4 can rest assured that they won't be "gone in 3 seconds". Such music lives forever, and in it, so do they. And even if we're smaller than a Planck length, we still are. "Suck it up".

This all may sound a bit over the board and dramatic, I can be prone to enthusiasm, but it's the way I personally understand spirituality (in a slightly pagan way), and the part that music plays in it. It pretty much applies to all the music that I love.

To conclude, you should lend them your ears. As a snippet of what you will find in “…And Down Goes The Sky”, I'll leave you with the last track, Over The Edge It Goes, the whole 14 glorious minutes of it. Enjoy the superb guitar solo by Daniel Moir, slightly reminiscent of The Wall, and every bit as good.

   
…And Down Goes The Sky
Get the digital album here
Physical release: TBA (check their Facebook for updates)
Au4 are: Ben Wylie, Aaron Wylie, Nathan Wylie and Jason Nickel
With the vocal participation of:
Anna Vandas, Melanie Krueger, Josh Wylie

Into the blogsphere I go!

I always wanted to write and knowing now is as good a time as any, well, hello there. Also, blogs allow you to put the thoughts that pop in your head out there with no need for a publisher. Just click, click, click! And away, click, clicking am I! 

The blog is called My Sanhedralite for two reasons: first, I like the word and use it as a nickname in several sites and forums online, and second, because it comes from the lyrics of a song called To The Shore I have loved since I was in my teens. You can find it in the player below, among a few other of my favourites from this band. It's a made up word, but it may come from Sanhedrin, the name of a supreme council, or court, in ancient Israel. A little bit of judgement might also occur here once in a while, and those words might also fall to the floor, shatter into a million tiny pieces and disappear through the cracks. Wisdom and reflection will be qualities upon which to practice (and hopefully to succeed in).

Although I am Portuguese, English will the language of choice for this blog. I'll try my best to write correctly. There is a lot ado about nothing as far as the Portuguese language is concerned nowadays, with all that spelling agreement nonsense (a pet peeve of mine that might come up here eventually), when, in fact, people should be worrying about protecting and writing their own language properly, and learning English as fast as possible. It should come as no surprise that English will be the common language to us all sooner rather than later. It kind of already is, actually. Wake up and smell the roses. Sniff. And I don't mean I'm sniffing at that, English is a beautiful, flexible language and I love it.

Lastly, this will help me keep my determination of walking for half an hour everyday. Two people I admire do it and for very different reasons, Nile Rodgers and Michael Moore, but it all comes down to staying healthy in the body and mind, and enjoying the fresh air. I've been translating Nile Rodgers blog for a while now, and that's always a highlight in my day. From him I'll borrow the inspiration of writing about what pops in my head when I walk; from Michael, the reason. If you haven't heard about it, check our his Facebook page here. It's a New Year's resolution and I want to keep it. Unless it rains. Then there will have to be an alternative - any ideas?

That's it for starters. Whether this writing business will be any good or not, remains to be seen - by you, of course. If there is a you out there, that is. I certainly hope so.

(PS: I'm also a duranie, as some of you may have guessed by now. A duranie is someone who is a fan of Duran Duran for various reasons, including but not limited to, the music. In my case it's just because of the beautiful music they have made. And, obviously, because John Taylor is the most gorgeous bass player to have ever tread this Planet Earth. El-oh-El. Pun intended. Have a listen!)