A bowl of cherries

Or, in my case, as I write, a bowl of dried figs, removed from the freezer and cut in half to facilitate chomping.

I am definitely a proponent of the “no crumbs in my keyboard” philosophy which fellow translator Emma Goldsmith introduced in the recent video discussion while being interviewed by fellow translator and agency owner, Moira Monney. I am also very insistent that nothing sticky comes anywhere near my keyboard. That is why I have to lift these little half-figs out of the bowl and into my mouth with the aid of a teaspoon.

I am currently performing this ridiculous ritual because I needed to avert an imminent bout of temporary madness induced by having to update the receipting process so generously made available electronically by the Portuguese tax department.

Savage Chickens to the rescue!


Life is a bowl of cherries.

That’s what got me remembering that we had dried figs in the freezer. You’re all up to date now. That sugar fix from the figs gives me the strength to carry on plugging away at my tax records.

And thanks to Savage Chickens, you are getting used to seeing cartoon drawings on my blog. There will be a lot more of those here in a couple of weeks.


2 thoughts on “A bowl of cherries

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  1. If I ever come your way – and there is a chance, since I have family in Brisbane – I shall smuggle some of these in a vac pac in my luggage, and bring them to you!
    Locally grown and dried on local terraces, this bag was part of a Christmas gift (along with a litre of locally-produced olive oil) from my first landlady in Portugal, who is the epitome of practicality and hard work. We have a deal. She is going to let me help her pick figs this summer, and see how she dries them, and stuffs them with almonds.


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