Begging for Brunch

Neymar looked at us with pleading eyes the whole time we were eating - in vain - which was difficult, but didn't want to encourage him.

Our usual Wednesday walking round town, praying, ending with our normal brunch at Morango Bar, of a tuna toastie and a coffee. If anyone comes up to talk to us, we get them a coffee - today it was Pedro, who used to be our neighbour when we lived above the Padre, his Mum's not doing too well. Trying to work out whether it's wise to start visiting folk...

In other news, Mike butchered a lamb that our current neighbour usually brings us for Easter - but there's no pasture, so, as he said, it wasn't getting any fatter. We'll save the legs in the freezer for Easter.

And I made a tarte au citron, still with Netty's lemons, for visitors tomorrow. Less bloody than Mike's job.

Gratefuls:
- Mike's courage; I'd be a vegetarian if I had to do what he did, a chicken is my limit for killing
- another beautiful day (though ridiculously hot for February)
- my sister doing a job for me, thanks, Leyna!