Today is a bank holiday in Rio. I think it’s either the anniversary of the city of Rio de Janeiro or the patron saints’ day; I’m not really sure.

I knew it before, but today, while writing this journal entry, I have forgotten. I could have taken the trouble to look it up on Google, and perhaps after writing, I will, and usually I would have done such a thing, but at the moment, I can’t be bothered.

And this raises two questions: looking up information I previously would have had, or known, and the lack of motivation to do something I would have done without a second thought before.

I’ve noticed that last year significantly affected my sense of ageing. Although I am fit, not truly overweight, active, and in good shape, I feel I have aged dramatically over the past 12 months.

A pupil of mine once told me at my school that she felt she had aged significantly from 58 to 61.

I’m unsure if I’m just imagining it, but I’ve noticed some small changes. In the past, I always felt young and active; now I don’t. I don’t necessarily feel old, just not as young as I once thought I was.

When I look at myself in the mirror in the morning, I see some battle scars from life, disguised as new wrinkles, a spot that was not there before, and a worn appearance that only time grants.

I’ve also noticed that I am becoming more forgetful and making silly mistakes at work. Since much of the computer work is repetitive and involves small details, errors like forgetting to do something or doing it poorly stand out to me, because I would never have made those mistakes in the past.

Ageing should be like a good wine or cheese: with time, it supposedly improves, and one of the reasons for that is acceptance, or, more accurately, radical acceptance.

We must accept our current state of who we are and where we stand at this very moment. It sounds obvious, but many people don’t understand, don’t want to accept, or even refuse to recognise it.

Exactly a year ago today, Julie returned to England. She had stayed with me for nearly a month, and we visited many places, including three or four days in Paraty, 250 kilometres south of Rio, which was sublime.

However, I felt somewhat relieved when she left, partly because when you receive someone, especially someone special, you worry more about them than yourself, and whether they are genuinely enjoying themselves and switching on this people-pleasing mode is quite exhausting.

I think this people-pleasing behaviour stems from my experience with my mother, that I would only receive some validation or affection if I did something to hurt. I’m thinking about it now. Julie only does something positive for us if something has already been done.

I believe that after Julie left, the last year was partly spent processing what had happened while she was here and recognising that, from the beginning of my life, I have always aimed to please others rather than myself.

When I say pleasing, I’m not referring to drinking, drugs, etc., but rather about forgetting yourself and prioritising others. This brings me to the second question: why can’t I be bothered to look up why today is a bank holiday?

Is it because it is not important to me?

With this sense of premature ageing and always living my life for others, while also analysing where I am and who I am at the moment, I am simply filtering what is essential for me and what is not.

Yasmin’s coldness toward me over the last month has also been a catalyst for seeing what is important and not, and for seeing who finds me important in their lives and wants me in theirs.

I get the impression that maybe my daughters will only see my importance later on, when I have gone, or when they have their own children, or if never. I honestly don’t mind that; it is what it is. It concerns me more what I can do with the limited quality time I have before I die.

I want to lead a fulfilling life until that day and avoid being brought down or enslaved to anything or anyone that is not good or healthy for me.

Let’s see!

It has been a good, productive day!

In bed by 10 p.m.

Thank you.

Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post Tuesday, the 20th of January 2026: “Ageing and Its Consequences”!!! first appeared on The Long Gringo.

It is the end of June, the last day of the month, and the first half of this year is over. Tomorrow, 1 July, will be the first day of the second half of the year.

Has the first half of the year been good for me?

On December 31st last year, I was in England, staying with my mother for about a month. England was very cold and rainy. There was a small amount of snow before Christmas, but after that, there was none.

Even though I was with my mother, I was alone, with no girlfriend or friends. A little before Christmas, my mother and I went to a carvery restaurant and pub in the English countryside. It was pleasant, but it was more for my mother than for me; everything was good. I could not exercise outside at that time because it was too cold, so I was limited to serious exercise in my mother’s living room.

So what has happened in the last six months that now feels more like 6 years than six months:

1. I am in England for the first time in more than 20 years, and it has been OK.

2. I received a small inheritance in January from my late uncle Mick, who died a couple of years ago. This money helped me have a better quality of life while I was in England, allowing me to save some, buy more Bitcoin, and buy things I believe are essential for my work, such as a video camera, a drone, and a personal present for myself, a Google watch.

3. I started going out with Julie. I had met her since I arrived, as she works in the local cafe. We began going out on 9 March. We went to the cinema to see Dune 2, and only we and another couple were there.

4. My relationship with Julie allowed us to go to many places with her dog, Austin, which was extremely pleasant.

5. My life in England, completely different from living in Brazil, was very awe-inspiring for me, with a slower, less rushed pace. It also gave me the chance to get to know people who I think are sincerely extremely pleasant and friendly.

7. And generally having a good time with Julie and in England.

The negative points:

1. Obviously, England is much colder than Rio, and when I arrived at the end of November, it was too cold. But later, after some time, the weather improved, and I got used to the cold and acclimatised. Many times, when going out with Julie, we were lucky to have pleasant days with decent weather.

2. My relationship with Julie was perfect for most of the time; we went to many places, including neighbouring towns, good pubs and restaurants, and took long walks along the canal, but we never became really intimate. I was living with my mother, and Julie with her parents. There was a lot of kissing, rehearsals and a little foreplay, but we never went that extra mile. The relationship lacked intimacy, and I’m not just talking about sex, but also about going to another level between ourselves, which for me was very strange. I also felt it was a bit one-sided. I thought I was giving and giving, while receiving very little in return as a man or a partner. Deep down, this was one of the reasons I came back to Brazil: to break away from this feeling of being used or not in a sincere and healthy relationship.

3. And my mother. On one side, Julie and the feeling of being in a strange relationship that was not entirely clear to me; on the other, my mother. Before I began dating Julie, everything was OK between my mother and me. When she found out about Julie, although I had tried to hide it from her or make it seem less important than it was because I knew how my mother would react, exactly that happened. My mother completely changed. She tried to compete with Julie for attention, to control me and prejudice me against Julie. As a result, all the memories, images, and traumas of my old mother from the past came flooding back, along with this anger too.

I often ask myself why God, if there is a God, gave me such a difficult brother and a bad mother. But in the sense that she was incredibly selfish, manipulative and false to get her own way and only thought of herself, I guess neither my brother nor I was merely a means of exchange for her interests.

It is terrible to say, but I do not love my mother, and I do not mind saying it. Going to England brought back the past in this respect. In some ways, it was good, as it helped me stop deceiving myself. Sometimes, as children or siblings, we give others the benefit of the doubt or try to mask the real badness and toxicity of family members, as if it is also something against us, but we should really open our eyes and accept what it is.

Here are the positives (6) and negatives (3) in Winston Churchill’s closing, weighing up the pros and cons to gain a clearer picture or make a decision based on the facts. The first half of this year has been very good; in theory, there are more positives than negatives, so I hope the second half will be just as good, if not better.

In bed by 10 p.m.

Thank you.

Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post Sunday, the 30th of June 2024: “Winston Churchilling It On the First Half of 2024”!!! first appeared on The Long Gringo.

It’s April, and my birthday month is coming to an end! And what a month it has been!

It marks the close of one year of my life, and fortunately, another is beginning. I have been reflecting on the past year: where I was in April 2023, and where I am today at the end of April 2024, starting a new cycle.

In April 2023

• I was moving from Copacabana to Botafogo to live with Yasmin and Nalva. I was giving up my rented flat, loving living alone and my freedom to stay with them, while preparing to go to England and sorting out many things in advance.

• At that moment, I did not possess my Brazilian ID; consequently, I was unable to open a bank account, get a credit card, or similar financial services.

• No savings, no bank account, no money in the bank, no investments, no deposit account, and neither crypto.

• No new clothes, nothing new for me; only if it were a present, and the older we get, the fewer presents we receive.

• Nothing new: no new car, watch, camera, etc., nothing that could really improve the quality of my life or my work.

• Debt: I owed 6000 Reais to Serasa, the Brazilian debt agency. This 6000 Reais in debt is equivalent to over 100,000 Reais in actual debt if I paid the debt at full price.

• No girlfriend: I did not have an official girlfriend at that time. Clearly, I had one before, but for the past year or so, I wasn’t with a girlfriend. I had some flings, ex-girlfriends, or very close friends, but nothing serious.

• Fewer opportunities: I felt trapped in a deadlock, living in Brazil, which is sinking and keeps worsening, never improving. No matter what you plan, do, or how much you work, things often don’t work out or come to fruition. It’s as if you’re constantly swimming upstream against the current and growing increasingly weary at the same time.

• No man’s land: I was happy, but because I am always happy, I have always been humble enough to accept what life throws at me and make lemonade from a bitter, sometimes even rotten, lemon.

• I had only just started posting on my blog.

There are probably other minor points that I cannot think of at the moment, but these roughly describe my situation, at that and now this is how it stands after one year.

In April 2024

• Living in England: I am currently living in England. I have been here since the end of November 2023. I have been staying with my mother for nearly six months, and I am looking for a place to rent. Although her house is in my name, this was one of the reasons I came to England, but I now need the privacy that only living alone can provide.

• My mother had an operation in January, and because of this, she experienced some unexpected complications during her recovery, which meant I needed to stay close to her.

• Brazilian ID and bank account: now I have my Brazilian ID that allows me to open a new bank account, save money, and travel.

• Bitcoin investment: at the time of writing, I have over 20,000 Reais in Bitcoin and other cryptocurrencies. Considering that I had nothing a year ago, I am proud of what I have achieved this past year. The Bitcoin halving, which took place on the 21st of this month, so in theory my ongoing investment should continue to improve exponentially and increase in value over time.

• New clothes: I’ve updated and improved my wardrobe. I don’t need a wide variety of clothes since I mostly wear a black shirt, pullover, and jeans 95% of the time. However, I now have a Google Watch 2 with a beautiful silver bracelet strap, which really makes a difference to me. I also have the usual new clothes that I am pleased with, but don’t really mind about.

• New things and toys: besides the new clothes, I have bought a new Osmo Pocket 3 video camera for video and YouTube content, and a DJI Mini 2 drone, which is both a helpful tool for YouTube and a bit of a toy. I also mentioned the watch, so everything is fine.

• No debt: I have cleared all my debts with Serasa in Brazil. The total debt, including interest, exceeded 100,000 Reais, but I have now settled everything. Besides being responsible, it will benefit me in the future if I return to Brazil or buy something for my family there, providing more stability.

• Girlfriend: I think I have a girlfriend now. Her name is Julie, and I met her while frequenting a cafe near where I live in England. It’s not a fling; it has developed into something quite meaningful, I believe, for both of us. Having a girlfriend opens up new possibilities for the future.

This is my very straightforward retrospective of the past year. I hope it has provided some clarity, increased transparency, and inspired others to realise that in just one year, many things can change in your life.

In bed by 10:00 p.m.

Thank you.

Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post Monday, the 29th of April 2024: “Retrospection of My Last Year”!!! first appeared on The Long Gringo.

It’s Saturday, and like most Saturdays for the past month or so, it’s usually something to do with Julie and Austin, the man.

The weather is quite nice in England; if it’s not raining, it’s already good. It’s not too warm, but it’s sunny, and at least the forecast isn’t for rain.

I didn’t do any morning exercise as I am still with a cold; I can’t seem to shake it off, and there are times when it gets better or worse. Last night, Julie and I discussed whether to go to Bridgnorth or Stourport, and I think we will probably decide by flipping a coin when she arrives.

Julie prefers Bridgnorth because it is much more sophisticated than Stourport. Stourport has a reputation for being a little tacky, especially along its Main Street, with amusement arcades, fish and chip shops, and some fast food restaurants and pubs. The town is again separated by a river, which does not cut through precisely, but the river is an integral part of the town’s composition and culture, much like Bewdley.

Julie arrived with Austin, and he was very happy to see me, making a fuss to stay with me in the front seat of the car. Why do dogs love to stick their heads out of the window while the car is moving? We flipped a coin, and Stourport won. We put Stourport in the USS Enterprise’s Mini GPS, and we were off on our way. In 20 minutes, we were arriving in the town’s centre.

We followed the traffic and checked the GPS, which showed various car parks near the river. It was easy to find a spot, and in less than 10 minutes, we were parked. Austin was already out and running around the car like a madman, while Julie was deciding what to take with us. As I had already mentioned, it was chilly; even though the sun was shining, the cold was exacerbated by a breeze in the air.

The car park was 100 or 200 metres from the riverbank, with all sorts of touristy attractions in between that adjoined and formed part of the town’s public park. There was crazy golf, a dinosaur park, food and drink kiosks selling hot dogs and candy floss, and a variety of other attractions. Behind us, in the opposite direction to where we were walking, was the town’s main amusement arcade with rides, located beside the bridge in front of the river and the High Street.

We were walking away in the opposite direction from the bridge beside the river, following a path that runs along the river. We had passed the attractions and were now on the path with the Seven River on our left and a large open field for tourists to have picnics on our right.

This picnic field brought back memories of when I was very young; my parents had already separated, and one of the few times I can remember having quality father and son time was when he took us—my brother and me—to Stourport on a Sunday, and we had a picnic in this very field, after more than 40 years.

I am now thinking about the past and my father, with whom I unfortunately had very little contact.

We continued walking along the path, eventually reaching a gate that indicated it was the entrance to a Yacht Club and Marina. It was not the kind of Yacht Club typically associated with a grand entrance, security, and high residential blocks of flats surrounding the complex, with piers extending into the sea, numerous sailboats, and large yachts.

It was simply a plain gate with a sign on the path, which continued normally beyond the gate, so we decided to go through and carry on our walk. As other couples came and went along the same path, it felt natural for us to proceed after the gate.

On the left was the River Seven, lined with numerous small plots of land, each fenced off and featuring entrances that led to a mini pier or dock extending into the river. Some of these plots had boats moored at the pier, while others didn’t.

It was clear to me that you could rent or purchase a plot where you could park your boat with a small garden or some extra space. Each plot came equipped with barbecue facilities, a small dock, and everything else you might desire for your boating experience.

As we continued along the path, it opened up and, on the right, there was a large, well-maintained field with neatly trimmed grass. In the centre, there appeared to be a clubhouse, and at the back and around the edges of the field, there are wooden sheds, trailers, and chalets.

This suggested to me that people owned a small plot of land where they would erect small prefabricated static houses or trailers within that little area. The path now resembled a driveway with wheel tracks circling the edge of the green field, so we decided to follow it, tracing the wheel tracks made by cars constantly crossing the grass.

There was essentially a small collection of prefab houses within a condominium. Some of the houses were interesting and well-maintained, and I would have liked to see the inside of one or two out of curiosity. However, others were quite tacky, unattractive, and in poor condition. I also noticed that each cabin or house had a different design; there was no consistent planning, DNA, design language or uniformity among them, which reminded me a lot of middle to lower class housing in Brazil.

In Brazil, you can visit places, condominiums, beach towns, etc., where each building or residence is entirely different from the next. Instead of uniformity, you’ll find a mix of houses, ranging from not-so-good ones to interesting or beautiful ones, strange structures, and charming homes, all lacking a shared design DNA, uniformity, or style.

Each one reflects its owner’s taste and the level of quality.

We were following the driveway around and beginning to loop back on ourselves. Austin had been off the lead for some time and was loving it. One woman, probably a resident, called our attention, saying he should  be on his lead. We put him on, but within five or six metres, Julie took him off again; she loves taking Austin for full-open walks where he doesn’t need to be on a lead and he’s totally free.

It’s not that he’s a misbehaved or a dangerous dog—he’s a cockapoo. He’s certainly not a Doberman, Pitbull, or Rottweiler—just a very inquisitive dog with loads of personality.

We retraced the original route, completing a 360-degree loop around the condominium and the field. The area was quite interesting, and probably spending a long weekend here could be worthwhile. As we followed the original path back, we headed past the touristy area, with the River Seven now on our right and the open picnic field, the park, and the crazy golf on our left. Finally, we reached the main bridge, with the amusement park located on the other side.

We arrived at the amusement park, which was already bustling with people and quite loud, with the typical fair swings, rides, loud music, and much noise. We wandered around. There was an amusement arcade, and we tried to go in, but it was clear that it would be too noisy for Austin, just as it was too loud for us.

The fair brought back memories of my childhood in Wollaston. At that time, these fairs would move from town to town, staying at each place for a couple of weeks before moving on. They would set up in a park behind my old primary school in Wollaston, creating a lot of hustle, movement and excitement when the fair arrived. We would plan to go with friends, or go because it was there; we knew we would meet everyone and have a great time.

This fair in Stourport is an integral part of the town and its culture, remaining unchanged. We left the fair and entered the main High Street. Before walking up, we both went to the toilet in a large pub that looked like a Wetherspoons, but it wasn’t.

Julie explained to me that it was the direct competitor to Wetherspoons.

After relieving ourselves, we walked up the High Street and again passed some amusement arcades that, for the upper middle class, are seen as tacky, and in some ways, they are. However, sometimes tackiness can be fun, especially when sophistication can be seen as dull at times. Going to a place and having fun, doing something silly, stupid, different and out of the ordinary, can be seen as good.

Therefore, something that makes you feel good is not necessarily tacky; it is positive!

We did not go into any of the amusement arcades because they weren’t interesting to us; they were too loud, and besides, we were with Austin. The town’s main High Street, like many High Streets across England, is divided by a side street, splitting the High Street into two halves, the lower and upper parts.

The side street separating the High Street in Stourport leads us to the car park where we left the car. After crossing this street, we are now walking through the upper part of the High Street. It was clear that there were more interesting shops with unique themes, and near the end of the street, we found a charming little coffee shop, a café.

We were able to enter with Austin; we ordered two cakes to share and two cappuccinos. The place was nice, common, and modern, but it had a lot of stuff in it, which made it a little confusing. The cakes were good, and the coffees were not bad. We began to talk to a young couple about the region, and everything was good. They gave us some tips for where to have lunch, but to be honest, it was too much information for me.

I was in ‘I don’t really give a fuck mode’!

We paid and left the coffee shop, which we later discovered was a bakery, and supplied sour bread to our future favourite pub, which we didn’t know about yet. The couple had suggested a pub for lunch, just 200 metres from where we were, beside a canal.

‘The Black Star’ was a lovely pub, situated in a privileged place on the edge of the canal bank with tables and chairs outside. It was very quaint and English, but we felt it was still too early for lunch. We decided to follow the canal in the direction of the river, seeing where it would take us and what we might find and do along the way.

The back streets, away from the busy central part of Stourport, were terrific to me, much more interesting than the main High Street. The canal guided us towards a marina for long boats or narrow boats, where there was a meeting of locks and other canals. There were also beautiful green lawns around, along with a lovely old pub and inn at the end, called ‘The Angel’, which we thought would be an interesting place to stay overnight.

‘The Angel Pub and Inn’ was quite large and impressive, positioned directly opposite the river on an elevated spot, overlooking the beer garden and the river itself. Beside the pub stood a beautiful, old, restored house that was also quite majestic, standing and overlooking the river.

The pub, the house, and the marina were all connected, forming a natural walk around and towards the amusement park. They were hidden behind the fair, which for us were the principal hidden gems of Stourport. Nobody talks about this part of Stourport, not even Julie, who is quite critical at times, but even she thought it was very nice and beautiful, nothing like what we had expected. In fact, it was quite the opposite; it was rather sublime.

We passed by the fair again, walking along the path beside the riverbank towards the tourist picnic area and ultimately the car park. When we reached the car, Julie suggested for lunch that we either return to the Black Star in the centre of town or drive to a pub outside Stourport.

She mentioned ‘The Hop Pole’, a pub at the top of the hill in Bewdley. I quickly searched on Google and found a site listing the kitchen as open until 3:00 p.m. It was already 2, so I called to ask if we could get a table if we arrived by 2:30. I also told them that we were leaving Stourport now, so Bewdley was just a stone’s throw away.

They said they would wait for us, and we were on our way. We entered ‘The Hop Pole’ pub into the GPS, and by 2:20, we were pulling into the car park. The pub looked quite ordinary from the outside; it sits on a hill with the car park below, in front of the street. There were small gardens around the grounds of the pub as we walked up to the main door.

Externally, both the pub and the gardens did not seem very well maintained, even a little tatty. However, when we entered, it was a classically cosy and straightforward rustic-style British pub, with natural light flooding in from all sides through the large bay windows on every side.

There was a special area for people with dogs, supposedly dog-friendly, but for us, it felt more like segregation than friendliness. Several friends had recommended this pub, so our expectations were high; however, they seemed to be going more south. Ebony, a young, friendly, beautiful barmaid, came over, showed us to a table, explained the menu, and what they didn’t have for us that day.

I ordered a glass of Malbec and Julie had half a lager and lime. Austin was a bit restless but behaved well. Julie’s fettuccine with a white sauce arrived; it was warm and mediocre, nothing special. My burger with chips was good, the chips were very hot, and the burger was fine but not outstanding.

Another waiter, a short, pot-bellied middle-aged man, was very friendly, attentive, and helpful. We asked some questions about the pub and the region, and he answered our queries. As we were so close to the centre of Bewdley, just 10 minutes on foot according to John’s estimate, we asked if we could leave the car in their car park for an hour and a half while we took one last walk around this charming town.

He said there would be no problem and not to worry, so we went ahead with it.

We walked down into Bewdley, marking the third time we have been together and my fourth since returning to England. The town was bustling with people and visitors. We strolled along the main High Street, popping into a few shops. Julie picked up a souvenir for her grandson, Ozzy, while I bought oven gloves for my mother, who needed them.

Then, coming from over the bridge, came a large convoy of motorbike riders, possibly from one or two clubs combined from the region. They turned right after the bridge into the side street that runs along the riverbank, where we parked the last time we were here.

These unexpected, unplanned events make our days different.

Exploring the marina and the side streets of Stourport. Visiting Stourport while having lunch in Bewdley. A spontaneous, quick drive to Bewdley that wasn’t planned at all. Doing a bit of shopping in Bewdley on a sunny Saturday afternoon, walking past parked motorbikes. Seeing the motorbikes and bikers brought back memories of Brazil, especially of ex-president Jair Bolsonaro, who would participate in motorbike convoys as part of his presidential campaign.

He once came into Copacabana riding a massive superbike along with literally thousands of motorbikes, probably from hundreds of clubs representing their clubs, families, and different regions of Brazil, including probably the Brazilian people in general.

We walked around the motorbikes, taking in the atmosphere created by so many different people together, then started our walk up the hill back to the car. Clearly, walking back and uphill at the end of a long day was more tiring, but within 15 to 20 minutes, we were back at the pub with the car still there, no extra scratches, and no slashed tyres, so everything was fine.

We set the GPS to go back to Wordsley, and we set off once more. I think we were all a bit wacked, but I believe the real problem was that we would have to go back to our own houses and not stay together.

Parting from each other was a little difficult; I think neither of us wanted the day to end separated.

In bed by 10:00 p.m.

Thank you.

Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post Saturday, the 20th of April 2024: “A Nostalgic Day in Stourport”!!! first appeared on The Long Gringo.

What a Saturday! I hadn’t seen Julie to go out with last night, but I had seen her in the morning when I went to the café. However, we couldn’t go out in the evening, as I had a class at 9:00 p.m.

I did a tough workout in the morning, which was very good. I saw some things on the computer, and then Julie messaged me saying that she had a brainstorm.

“Let’s go to Worcester for the day”.

“Of course,” I said, I’m game for almost anything. Worcester is about 30 to 40 minutes from Stourbridge by car. It is a beautiful, traditional old English town with some main shopping streets, old buildings, and churches steeped in history, as well as a river that runs alongside it.

We left Stourbridge around 11:00 a.m. and had to pass through Hagley to get there. Hagley is one of the more exclusive neighbourhoods in the region, lined with boutique shops along the Main High Street and featuring some of the largest and most beautiful houses nestled within the scenic English countryside.

After a while, we found ourselves deep in the English countryside, surrounded by farmland and vast open fields, some with cows and sheep, and a variety of different shades of green everywhere. It is almost spring, so there are more dark greens and lushness all around, with some bare fields where seeding has probably already taken place, and time seems to be waiting for nature to run its course.

The day was cold, grey, and slightly rainy when we arrived in Worcester. We found the town’s central car park just a short walk from the main high street and side streets. The sun appeared, and although it was bitterly cold, even a little sunshine makes a big difference in everything you do.

We strolled along the main streets, popping into some shops out of curiosity, and discovered a charming little coffee shop that combined coffee and tea with a bookshop and some esoteric items. Places like this are quite common in Brazil. We sat down and ordered cappuccinos, which were very good.

I’m here in England, in Worcester, in what is considered a charming traditional British town with Julie, my beautiful, perfect little woman. We’re enjoying good cappuccinos at a unique place, having a wonderful time, and I haven’t felt this good in such a long time.

We also visited a memorabilia shop where various images, memorabilia, and vintage advertisements from the past are printed and mounted onto steel plaques. We noticed two old-style Art Deco plaques promoting coffee, and we even considered giving them to the owners of the coffee shop where Julie works as gifts. Julie was a little unsure, so we could return later and purchase them.

We didn’t buy them, but at least the thought was there.

After walking around for over two hours, we discovered a charming shopping gallery catered more to pets and dogs, featuring a lovely pet shop and coffee shop for animals and their owners. There was an owner with a cockapoo, the same breed as Austin, so Julie had something in common to discuss with the owner.

After that, we eventually walked down a side street and came across a small, beautiful, and discreet old English pub with a Tudor frontage. We stepped inside into a charming gentleman’s old English style ambience, complete with wooden panelling on the walls and bookshelves, bay windows at the front, and a log fire, all creating a very homely, cosy atmosphere. The bar was at the end of the room, so we approached it to inquire about food and drinks. We ordered our drinks, and Julie went upstairs to find us a place to stay and eat.

I asked the barman if I could see the menu and order some food, and he told me that they were only closing the kitchen from 3:00 to 5:00, and it would reopen at 5:00 in the early afternoon.

I said, ‘Okay, what can I do?’

But then a very charming and beautiful young lady appeared; her name was Jess, and she was clearly the manageress. She kindly told me that if I wanted food and ordered within the next two minutes, she would make it happen.

How good is that?

I quickly went upstairs to the next floor to find Julie, and again, a lovely old-fashioned traditional interior with a red carpet, off-white walls, and old Tudor beams, along with a small log fire at the far end of the room.

How good is that?

Julie had discovered a wooden booth, one of three or four that could comfortably seat six people, with partitions on the sides behind the benches and a long table in between. The benches resembled church pews, with a high partition separating us from the other booths. It was a peaceful, sublime setting for us to enjoy our lunch.

I asked Julie to go downstairs to talk to Jess and order the food. At first, she didn’t want to, but I insisted, and she went. For me, it was a burger with fries, and for her, a chicken and mushroom pie with mashed potato and vegetables. Julie’s was very English and very nice!

We stayed in our booth talking, absorbing everything around us and ourselves; it was extraordinary. The food arrived promptly, hot, fresh, and extremely tasty. It was very, very nice, having lunch in a special place with good food and drink and with beautiful and interesting company.

We left after about an hour and a half and decided to have a quick walk around again, and then back to the car park. I’m now back home in Wordsley. Julie dropped me off at home at about half 5, the Brazil and England game was at 7, and I wanted to see it in a pub.

I thought it would be like Brazil, with lots of people in a bar or restaurant watching the derby.

We had arranged to meet at Wetherspoons, the most popular pub in the area, very close to where Julie lives. The pub was busy, but they were not showing the match. Julie had not arrived yet. I decided to go out and head to the other pub about 100 metres away, which I had seen from the street, that had TVs. When I entered, they were showing the match.

The pub itself doesn’t look particularly special from the outside, seen from the street, but when I entered it was quite cosy, though in a different style from the earlier pub in Worcester. The pub looked very clean and well-organised, the lighting was brighter, and the atmosphere was good. The whole pub and bar formed an L shape, with the shorter end featuring an enormous projector screen showing the match.

I sat on a high stool at the bar and watched the match in front of me. I ordered a glass of wine while watching the game, and it was enjoyable. Julie arrived, and we continued to sit at the bar on comfortable high stools. She ordered a Desperado long-neck beer, and we watched the game while kissing and talking.

Brazil scored and the match finished one-nil, the final score!

We thought everything was over, then a woman with an amplifier and microphone stepped onto a small stage in front of the window and began setting up her gear, including disco lights and a mixing desk. After a while, she started to sing. A tall, heavy blonde woman in her late 50s began to sing, a little rough around the edges, but she was pretty good and energised everyone present.

Now we were enjoying live music with strobe lights and colourful lighting, drinking and sharing Desperado beers. Julie wanted us to stay; we were feeling very good, relaxed, and happy. I think the Desperados had started to kick in a little, and we were sharing lots of kisses. The evening flew by. We talked, kissed even more, and everything felt very, very good.

Grant, the young barman whom Julie loved, rang the bell for last orders. We ordered ‘a saideira’, one for the road, while the locals and natives were dancing. A guy came over and talked to us a little drunkenly, saying that we were a beautiful couple, and that the night and the day were coming to an end.

We left, I walked Julie home, and then I walked another two miles back to my mother’s house. This isn’t Rio, where you can find a taxi at any time of day or night. I arrived home, and my mum had gone to bed. Well, I thought she had, but she came down to see if everything was okay.

She said she was calling me, but I couldn’t hear her voice because I had my headphones on. We talked briefly; then she went back upstairs to bed. I opened a bottle of wine and raided the fridge. I had a couple of sandwiches; I was starving. I drank a few glasses of wine and watched a film on TV.

At 2:00 a.m., I was in bed feeling very happy after a full day. My relationship with my beautiful, little, perfect woman is going well; I think it is on another level. We spent the day out, went to a lovely pub with live music, and smooched a lot.

And nobody died!

Thank you.

Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post Saturday, the 23rd of March 2024: “Our special Day at Worcester and After”!!! first appeared on The Long Gringo.

In Brazil, it is the eve of Carnival. What I’ve heard from my pupils is that it is very hot and stuffy in Rio. Here in the middle of England, it is reasonably cold, wet, and damp but bearable.

There was supposed to be snow, but it never came, and there is supposed to be a second wave of snow, but I don’t think it will hit this region of the country. What I have noticed is that the weather in England is easing up; it is certainly not as cold as when I arrived at the end of November last year. At that time, it was -2 and now it is a boiling 9°.

The last time I walked was last weekend, and it was cold, with snow expected. I haven’t been out for a long walk for almost a week, and I’m missing it. Exercise and the series with elastic bands are good, but they don’t replace walking. Hopefully, tomorrow I will be able to get out and breathe in some cold, fresh air, giving my brain vital oxygen and natural therapy.

I did, however, go shopping for my mother to resolve a money issue. My mother didn’t have a £5 note to pay the cleaner from a couple of days before, and instead of giving the girl a £10 note and deducting the extra £5 the next time she comes to clean, she preferred not to pay the girl, saying that she would get a £5 note later, pay her afterwards but still owed her £5.

As the next day was raining too much to go out, my mother couldn’t get a £5 note, which consequently caused a lot of stress when the girl called my mother asking for the money. My mother became upset with the situation, which escalated into a lot of bad feelings that I had to resolve.

The lesson learned was that if she had paid an extra £5 and arranged to deduct it the next time, it would have avoided a lot of stress. To pay £5 in advance and escape, relieving yourself of the stress and bad feeling, is a small price to pay compared to the punishment you would face if you didn’t try to facilitate the situation and, more importantly, for your own sake.

During my mother’s mental meltdown, she started bringing up past events involving the girl and her family to justify her position and to convince herself more than me that she was right. It was more important for my mother to convince herself that she was right. Why are people so obsessed with being right instead of just feeling right and having a clear conscience? Perhaps it’s because, deep down, they sense they aren’t.

I prefer to be happy and do what is best for both, and without judgement!!!

So like a good loyal trooper, I went out into the rain, got the shopping, got a £5 note for my mother, and when I got back home, I put the total amount of money in an envelope and delivered it to the next-door neighbours’ house, which is where the girl’s boyfriend lives.

The instructions were for me to deliver to the boyfriend’s parents. When I arrived, the father, a Jamaican man, was already outside in front of the door, leisurely drinking a beer with a friend, which I found quite funny. He received me very well and I gave him the envelope, telling him to give it to Beth, his son’s girlfriend and our cleaner when possible.

It was clear to me that the family are very simple but also very good people. My mother, because of the situation, began to put them down when I got back. My mother was sitting in the back living room, and I told her that I was very well received, that they are straightforward people, far from being bad, and that they are clearly good. I also told her that she, my mother, should give them some slack. I think she understood what I was trying to say.

For me, this situation was interesting for various reasons. Everything was fine until something small and silly disturbed my mother’s peace, which really shouldn’t have happened. If it were me, I would have given the girl a £10 note, the full amount, or extra money, and deducted it from the next time she came. I’m not going to go broke or break the bank over only £5.

I also believe that we should have a vote of confidence in others until they prove us wrong; we need to trust most people, not blindly, but generally, especially after so long of her providing cleaning services to my mother. It’s not as if this were the first time the young girl was cleaning my mother’s house.

Another point that I think is clear is how my mother took it very seriously, especially when the girl asked for the money a couple of days later. My mother took it personally, almost as if it were a personal insult, a slur against her, which highlights how sensitive my mother is and how careful I need to be when I’m around her. If I dance to her tune, everything will be fine, but if I don’t, it’s like declaring World War 3 against me, just like when I was a child, so I have to be cautious.

And the last point is that we never truly know if the girl, Beth, genuinely needs the money or is in a difficult situation, so we can’t really judge. Her reality and circumstances are different from ours, so maybe even though it’s just £5, that £5 could have been very important for her at that moment. Therefore, we should always, or nearly always, try to consider the other person’s situation.

My mother didn’t do this; it was more about her than the girl, and it was just for £5!

Even though carnival begins tomorrow in Brazil, and if I were there, I would have cancelled the last classes, but in England, I haven’t. I gave classes until 10:00 p.m. because of the time difference. I’m not sure if it is a more disciplined me, a more responsible European influence, or the time difference, and my body clock is still adjusting to Brazilian time, which is 3 hours behind.

After I watched a little TV with my mother, she asked me to crack open a bottle of wine to add a little to the Bolognese, and I drank the rest on my own when my mother went to bed.

One of the simple wonders of life is to drink a decent bottle of wine on your own in complete silence and peace. You could be scrolling, working on your computer or just doing nothing. It is just you, the wine and your thoughts, and there is nothing more precious than that.

It is heaven on earth!

In bed by 1:00 a.m.

Thank you.

Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post Friday the 9th of February 2024: “Empathy, Kindness and Understanding”!!! first appeared on The Long Gringo.

Monday of the week before Carnival in Brazil. It is cold, drizzly, damp, grey, and wet.

I wanted to do some exercise this morning, but due to a heavy workout on Saturday, my legs are still sore, and it is difficult for me even to walk, let alone work out. I also wanted to try out the new skipping rope and elastic bands for exercising that I had bought last Saturday in Brierley Hill.

What I have noticed in England is that, in general, everything we buy here is of a better quality than in Brazil. Why am I saying this, and am I being unfair to Brazil?

When I first arrived in England at the end of November last year, it quickly became clear that, due to a clear economic policy of free trade, a wide variety of cars from different nationalities are available here. From English brands like Jaguar to American brands with long-established factories in England, such as GM, to new brands like Tesla and BYD.

The choice is extensive, and if you have the necessary funds, you can negotiate any car you want without paying excessively high import taxes, as is often the case in Brazil. There are a variety of options that we don’t see in Brazil, but when comparing similar models here in England with those in Brazil, the models in England are generally better, higher in quality, sportier, more elegant, and more aesthetically pleasing.

A Honda car in Brazil is a common car, even though it is considered of good quality. It is completely bland compared to the same model in England, and likely cheaper. This applies to most cars and brands and is not exclusive to cars.

On Saturday, I bought a new skipping rope and elastic bands for exercising. Compared to those from Brazil, firstly, they are of better quality. Besides being better products, the packaging is also superior, and thirdly, they are comparatively cheaper than in Brazil, even considering the exchange rate.

What does a free trade market offer us?

It provides us with variety, allowing us to choose precisely what we need for our specific purposes, whether for work, pleasure, or business. A government, such as in Brazil, that implements protectionism with heavy import duties, is only thinking in the short term and is slowly killing the country through strangulation for the long term.

How can individuals or small companies grow if everything that is not domestically supplied or manufactured within Brazil is heavily taxed, beyond the reach of ordinary people?

Any form of protectionism in life, you usually have to pay dearly for in the future. The spoiled child who his parents had overprotected grows up to be an unbearable and toxic human being, eventually blaming his parents for the way he is, with no family, superficial friends and toxic relationships.

Whenever there is a lack of truth and authenticity in what we do or who we are, we eventually suffer for it in the future!!!

I have been living in Brazil for over 30 years. In the 1990s, Collor was the Brazilian President at the time, who was eventually impeached. However, before his impeachment, he had liberalised trade barriers between Brazil and the rest of the world, which led to an influx of imported cars and other products due to their superior quality and competitive prices that the Brazilian market had not previously encountered.

In response, the government quickly imposed significantly higher import duties to regulate the large number of cars entering the country, which was affecting the trade balance.

This occurred with other products and sectors of the economy for the same reason: the Brazilian government believed it was necessary to protect the national industry and allow domestic producers and industries time to become more efficient and competitive, thereby preparing them to face international competition.

This was in the early 1990s, more than 30 years ago, and the Brazilian national industry remains uncompetitive today, with hundreds of thousands of companies going bankrupt under Lula’s government. Meanwhile, trade barriers with high import duties remain in place, in some cases higher than those of 30 years ago.

Therefore, over the past nearly 40 years, Brazil’s economy and business landscape have made little to no profound or meaningful progress. The country and its people have missed out on four decades of potential growth and increased influence, not just within Brazil but also on the global stage.

Once again, Brazil, along with its government and citizens, has missed the opportunity to become a significant international power. There have been moments when Brazil experienced a brief boost in marketing and popularity, creating the illusion of prominence. Still, these were superficial and fleeting—nothing of real substance or depth that could sustain long-term strength.

Brazil is trapped in a vicious, regressive cycle. And for me, the main question I keep asking is: who will save the country and the nearly 220 million people, all depending on the remnants of a corrupt, inhumane government to survive?

I gave classes from 4:00 p.m. until 11:00 at night. I also worked on the blog and entries in my journal; it has been a good, productive day.

In bed by midnight.

Thank you.

Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post Monday the 5th of February 2024: “A Reflection on Quality, Trade and Brazil’s Future”!!! first appeared on The Long Gringo.

What do you do on a cold and slightly rainy Sunday in England? You go to the pub!

I worked in the morning, but I didn’t do any exercise as I am still sore, very sore from the workout yesterday. My mother suggested that we have a late lunch and also told me more than once to go and have a drink at a local pub.

I haven’t fed the swans in a couple of days, so I thought I’d make a round trip. Go down to the canal, feed the swans and ducks, then visit a more refined pub on the other side of the village, and afterwards stop at a simpler pub on the way back.

It is bitterly cold, windy, and damp in the street. The Swans were there, two beautiful adults and some smaller but large ducks. I’m not sure if they recognise me, because as soon as they see me from a distance, they don’t hesitate to come. I took some pictures of them while they were feeding, and then started walking around to the first pub.

‘The Lawnswood’ is a well-established pub, and when my brother lived nearby, he would often go there for a drink. Nowadays, it’s quite a lively pub with large TV screens displayed around the lounge to broadcast special events, especially football derbies.

Football is an institution in England, especially among the working or lower middle classes, where their fanaticism for supporting their team is very similar to that of supporters in South America.

I had already visited this pub at lunchtime on Christmas Eve; it was completely full of families and friends wishing each other a happy Christmas before the big day. I wasn’t particularly impressed with the pub; I found the service slow, bureaucratic, and the prices bordering on expensive. I didn’t eat there at the time because I thought the food was nothing special and the portions were small, almost symbolic.

Living in Brazil for so long, we are spoiled by fast service, not necessarily pleasant or polite, but quick. It is also challenging to find subpar food in Brazil; again, we are spoiled with good-quality, wholesome food at reasonable prices. Finding bad food is rare. The pub was half full today; I had two glasses of red wine, which I thought were a bit overpriced. While I was there, I called and spoke to Yasmin and Nalva in Brazil before leaving.

It’s the kind of place you go with a girlfriend or a woman to have a drink and chat, but for me, going alone is too costly and not worth it.

On the way to the other pub, I passed by the local mini supermarket to buy milk; the milkman won’t come until Tuesday, so I had already worked out that with the amount of tea my mother drinks, she wouldn’t have enough for tonight and tomorrow.

Seeing, noticing, understanding, and taking into consideration something that is coming to an end at home, at work, or in your life in various ways is an art. If you can anticipate or plan for something that you know will a lot of stress in our lives.

Being prepared for something before it happens is a real gem!

When I was married to Nalva, after a long day of work and teaching at the school, I would arrive home to find a pile of dirty dishes that hadn’t been washed. To keep the peace, I would offer to do them. When I started washing the dishes, I noticed the washing-up liquid was running out.

I asked her where another bottle was, and she told me she hadn’t bought any. There was no washing-up liquid left to wash the dishes. She had been home all day and had also gone out, but she hadn’t had the sense to see that the bottle was nearly empty and buy another before it was finished.

If Nalva had the good sense to buy another bottle, a lot of stress, arguments, and fighting could have been avoided. By simply observing and paying attention to her life, the flat, and everything around her, being consistent with the situation, and avoiding minor or micro emergencies, she could have prevented the resulting stress—just by having the foresight to see what was needed at home.

It took her a long time and many arguments to learn this simple but valid lesson.

If we don’t learn to understand and communicate the whole situation around us, whether at work, at home, or with our family, then, besides unnecessarily suffering from not having what we need at that moment, it also causes stress that could have been avoided.

I arrived at the same pub I had visited the previous Sunday. It is simpler and cheaper than the other one, and when I arrived, it was already half full. When I left, all the chairs and tables had been taken. The pub offers a mix of traditional pub food and Indian cuisine.

At the back, there is a separate industrial kitchen specialising in Indian food, catering not only to the pub but also for takeaway and delivery. The food seems to be very good, and there is quite a crowd. I haven’t eaten there yet, but I plan to in the future.

I drank three glasses of wine and went home, where my late lunch and early dinner were waiting for me. Later, I watched a little TV with my mother and was in bed by 10:00 PM.

Thank you.

Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post Sunday the 4th of February 2024: “A Two Pub Crawl”!!! first appeared on The Long Gringo.

It is Saturday, and I didn’t go out last night. I also don’t have anything planned socially for today, tonight, or tomorrow.

I am surprised by myself that a night out, clubbing, meeting friends, or a girl, etc., are no longer the priorities of my life. Some men are intelligent enough to understand the price it brings, and it is a heavy price when they are young.

It took me until recently, the last couple of years, to reach this kind of understanding and wisdom. Don’t get me wrong, to go out is good, to meet people is good, to go to a party is good, it is all good, but it should never be a priority for your life, for you to live and the reason for your existence.

We have more important things to do, such as studying, earning money, improving ourselves, and being a decent person without being a pushover, which are all essential to our day-to-day happiness, or, more importantly, our inner tranquillity.

We often talk about happiness, the world, and social media, which sell it to us in all shapes and forms, implying that we should be happy regardless of our circumstances. However, I have learned that peace, tranquillity, and calmness are just as crucial, if not more so, than happiness itself.

From these states, we can build, improve, and strive for better things. While happiness can make life feel different, it can also lead to a lack of concentration and focus. At times, we may become complacent or indulge in self-pity, failing to understand the future consequences of our actions fully.

We live in a society where showing off and displaying our possessions to others is seen as a virtue, which can make others feel without or even inadequate. I don’t have anything particularly remarkable to boast about, except for my health, my mind, my daughters and their well-being and education, as well as the many things that have positively influenced me throughout my life, which have gifted me with my experiences and, to some extent, wisdom at the age of 57.

Would I like to have more material possessions? Of course! However, I won’t let myself feel depressed, disappointed, or angry for not having them. I’ve never been overly focused on material things, but I would like to change that a bit.

All we have to do is try our best without being afraid. Fear is the killer, or you kill it, or it will kill you!

Yesterday, I left three A4 printed sheets with my goals for the rest of the year with the owner of Café on the Green in Wordsley, a place I visit at least three or four times a week. I inquired about laminating A4 papers to make them more durable and ensure they would last for the rest of the year.

In Brazil, many print shops/offices offer this service, and it’s easy to ask for. However, in England, it’s not as easy to find this service, and most people do it at home. The café owner kindly offered to laminate the papers for me, as he does the same for the café’s menus.

My three goals for this year:

• Exercise: exercise, good food, good health, look good, be different, and have high self-esteem!!!

• Work/Make money: work, give classes, create content for YouTube, Instagram, PLRs, Facebook, POD, and online courses. The development of  ‘The long gringo’ blog, ‘Placebeads’, and ‘Teahogui’. Hustle, pay bills, save money, and invest in Bitcoin!!!

• Peace/Happiness/Truth: be happy, be good, be truthful to yourself, make the most of what you have, and be grateful for everything good, but don’t be a pushover. Travel, learn new things, be a good father, and find the right person; if not, that’s okay!!!

These are my goals for this year, and the three copies are now printed and laminated. I had asked the owner in the cafe if there was a print shop near that could plastify or laminate my pages, just like his menus. He told me that he has a machine and does it himself because it is not common in print shops in England nowadays. He then offered to do it for me. This was yesterday. I said I would like to pay, but he refused.

When I went back today for a coffee, the owner quickly came over and gave me the three laminated copies that I had left the day before. I thanked him and offered again to pay for his time and effort, but he refused, saying it was a pleasure.

When I left the cafe after having a tea and writing my daily entry in my journal, I popped into the supermarket next door and bought a decent bottle of Prosecco. I went back to the cafe, which was bustling with people, and gave the Prosecco to his wife, who was working behind the counter, and who was so surprised.

I didn’t stop to talk, as she was so busy, and it wasn’t necessary. I just wanted to show my gratitude for what they had done. I felt good about solving the problem of laminating the copies, mainly because it was important to me, and I was also very grateful, wanting to show my appreciation for their help.

The rest of the day was spent shopping and walking, and we had fish and chips for dinner at night.

In bed by 10:00 p.m.

Thank you.

Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post Saturday the 3rd of February 2024: “Goals and Gratitude”!!! first appeared on The Long Gringo.

Although it is not raining, it is extremely damp, and you can feel it in your bones. I wanted to get up early to go out and do some exercise, but it didn’t happen.

Yesterday, I drank too many glasses of wine, and as a result, I didn’t sleep well. I think I only really fell asleep after 3:00 in the morning, resulting in only getting up this morning at 9:00 AM, which, if I were in Brazil, would have been unthinkable.

I am also feeling a slight hangover from the wine that is telling me that I’m not used to drinking anymore, but I still sometimes insist on doing it.

Why do we insist on self-sabotaging ourselves?

We know that something is not good for us, but we still continue to do it. Is it human nature for us to self-destroy ourselves like wars and the facility to do negative things against ourselves rather than positive ones? It is strange how human nature, in some ways, is so twisted and distorted.

In theory, logically speaking, we should always strive to preserve and care for ourselves and do what is best for our own interests. However, it seems that we often do the opposite, or we tend to do so. We tend to lean more towards hurting ourselves and sabotaging our efforts, rather than being fully devoted to improving and doing the best for ourselves.

A classic example is smoking; we all know that it’s bad for us, but many continue to do it until it’s too late, that person or relationship that we know is not good for us, but we still stay and continue and invest in it, knowing that deep down, in the future it will get worse. If we want to be happy or improve, we should have left a long time ago.

What I did yesterday was obvious: drinking, like smoking, we all know it’s not good for us, but we do it, and I did it yesterday. Did it kill me? No, I don’t think it did, but it also didn’t make me stronger. If it did, I don’t know precisely where, but because of my weakness, I did it. This morning, I suffered or am suffering because of it, and this is what we are as imperfect human beings.

January is ending, the second of the two silly months.

I have only now realised that December and January are the silly months of the year; nothing really gets done or is taken seriously in terms of work, unlike the other months. Especially in Brazil, where everything slows down in December due to end-of-year parties and the focus on having a good time rather than being productive—again, a form of escapism and letting go.

After December, the summer holidays in Brazil take place in January, similar to those in July, August, and a portion of September in the United Kingdom. During this time, people are travelling, and many companies and offices are either half or fully closed. School holidays are also in effect, so many families are travelling. Additionally, you’ll face a lot of bills to start the year.

IPVA for the car, IPTU for your residence, enrolment fees for private schools and universities, and not forgetting school materials in Brazil, which can be quite expensive in some cases, along with the end-of-year credit card bill from Christmas and New Year spending sprees. For me, December and January are typically slow months in terms of work and business.

This is why, as the end of January and the beginning of February approach, I prepare my goals and objectives for at least the next six months. I have always liked the number 3, as it is more than two, which is too little, but less than four or five, which can be too many. In some instances, multiplying 3 seems to facilitate more than any other number.

So, when I think about setting goals, I like to use 3 or multiples of 3 as a guide. Usually, 3 is enough because there are generally many implications from that one point, which can essentially branch into many other sub-points. Just as an example, when I lived in Copacabana, my three points were:

• Exercise: Exercise, good food, good health, look good and be different.

• Work:  Work, give classes, hustle, pay bills, save money and invest in Bitcoin.

• Study: Study, improve, explore new business opportunities, undertake new projects/new companies, diversify, increase revenue, hustle, invest, and learn more about Bitcoin to make informed decisions.

These are the three main points: exercise, work, and study. From these main points, several areas contribute to the overall goals. Additionally, some sub-points or goals may appear within other primary goals, demonstrating focus and showing how the points complement each other. This alignment helps clarify your objectives.

These points, which I had printed, written, laminated, and then stuck on the walls and fridge of my flat, helped me stay focused and kept me on the right track for the rest of the year. I can sincerely say that 80% of my goals were achieved. You don’t have to reach or achieve 100%, or even 90%; at least a part of your targets must be hit. If you only hit 50%, you can always aim higher or improve in the future and roll over your goals to the following year.

You just need to be willing to do it!!!

This week is dedicated to preparing for the rest of the year, starting from February 1st. If you think this is useful, I suggest you try it yourself. Choose your three targets/goals, then create sub-goals for each one. Print out at least three copies and have them laminated to prevent them from getting dirty. Stick them in strategic places in your residence, workplace, or wherever you work, and see what happens.

In bed by midnight.

Thank you.

Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post Monday the 29th of January 2024: “Silly Months and Goal Setting”!!! first appeared on The Long Gringo.