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Banishing the Monday Morning Blues

It is a grey day here in Portugal — the sun has temporarily deserted us hidden behind layers of cloud. I have a day full of chores ahead after a weekend of relaxation. Cleaning, laundry, changing cat litter — all the mundane things I love to “hate” but know have to be done. Mr P is already fielding phone calls, organizing international transports from France to Portugal via our usual third-party who just happens to be in Brazil this week — the usual Monday mediocrity.

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Sunday Seafood Special from Alentejo

Living close to the sea in Portugal, we are blessed with an abundance of seafood.  A favourite starter is often a shared dish of clams. These are usually cooked in a little olive oil, some wine, coriander and salt and pepper. All that is needed to finish is a squeeze of lemon.

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Portuguese Food is a Mediterranean Diet

One of the unexpected advantages of my move to Portugal is the change in my everyday diet and the results on my health and my weight.  Portugal is a low density population country, which means that its people can in most areas be fed by local foods and crops. Very few food miles – YEAH!

There are very few processed foods and very few frozen foods available where I am and almost everyone makes their food from scratch using fresh ingredients.  The nearest thing we have to a takeaway is a shop that sells freshly grilled chicken and a home cooked pizza shop where fresh pizzas are cooked on the premises.

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The Disabled Defense: Canes and Wheelchairs

I am a wide supporter of the disabled and devices that help them live better and easier lives. However, in the last few years, I’ve witnessed odd behavior on the streets, and in public gathering spaces, that sounds an alarm of concern. Some people in wheelchairs — actually, the person pushing the wheelchair, not the rider — and those who use canes, are beginning to use those facilitation devices as weapons!

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Thirty Years On Today: Burying Oliver Mark Wadey

They say that time heals — I beg to differ. It may cloud and diminish generalities, but on this day, every year, the pain is still the pain that only the gut wrenching sorrow that the loss of a child can bring. True that pain is confined to this day and this day alone and in spite of all my efforts and strategies over the years to cope with it, deal with it, or even try to ignore it altogether, I never quite manage to do so.

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The 20-Year Mammogram

I have a close female friend who is highly educated on the graduate level, but she was born and raised in the agricultural Midwest where preventative medicine is not a common meme.  Her last mammogram was 20 years ago.  She shared the story of her latest breast exam with me so that I might share it with you now.  There are three reasons why she waited so long between mammogram.  One, they hurt too much.  Second, there’s been some research suggesting regular mammograms may not be helpful.  Finally, they hurt way too much to get every year!

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The Dangerous Blurring of BDSM Fantasy Lives and Fifty Shades of Grey

We have seen how American culture has descended to the worship of Honey Boo Boo, discussed how violent video games  can sensitize us to the consequences of violence and shuddered at the thought of some of the classics of literature being re-written to include sex scenes that never were  which nicely brings me to 50 shades of YUK.

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