Wednesday, the internet cable was cut. Not metaphorically. Not philosophically. Literally cut.Men repairing the water mains managed to sever the fibre optic line, and suddenly Janita — my co-host in this civilized experiment—was joining meetings on mobile data like a field reporter in a conflict zone. Outside: municipal chaos.Inside: HTML. I was deep in code….
I have a litre of excellent homemade pork knuckle stock. I want to use it as a basis for one week’s worth of cooking; budgeting should be fun, effective, and nutritious. List me one week’s worth of recipes, using the stock as a foundation, even a perpetual recipe. Mr Mayor, that’s liquid gold. A proper…
Monday has arrived again, and somehow, the weekend disappeared faster than a cake at a birthday party. After the few mishaps of last week, I had high hopes for a quiet sanctuary. I successfully avoided the swing ball and the driver’s seat, but I forgot one thing: the house was full and too small to…
There is a particular silence that settles in when the house empties. Not loneliness. Not drama. Just the absence of observation. When departures have happened and trains have left platforms and the motherland has reclaimed its citizens, the house shifts. And I shift with it. I become lighter. Looser. Slightly feral in an intellectual way….
The morning is a quiet, grey watercolor. Outside, the rain is doing that rhythmic, soft dripping on the roof that makes you want to stay in pajamas until Tuesday. I’m sitting in the living room, cradling a mug of coffee and staring into the middle distance, watching the house slowly come into focus. Then, I…
Or: Why I Refuse to Optimise the Atlantic There is a version of 1492 where Christopher Columbus never leaves port. Not because of storms. Because of strategy sessions. He’s sitting in a co-working space in Seville explaining his value proposition to a growth consultant named Diego. “Who exactly is this voyage for?” Diego asks. “India,”…
On Friday evening, a tired man stood on a football field. He had just returned from a business trip.He was exhausted.He almost sent a message to his team: “Sorry, I can’t come today.” But he didn’t. He put on his boots and went to training anyway . That small moment explains this week. This week,…
Some mornings feel like they were scripted by a very tired comedian. I’m sitting at my laptop with a first cup of coffee, a dull headache, and a nose that has decided to retire from breathing. Outside, the neighbors are singing “Happy Birthday” to someone over the phone. I can hear every enthusiastic, slightly off-key…
Some weeks are not dramatic. They are simply dense. Conversations carry weight. Infrastructure moves slowly. Visibility grows quietly. Small frictions appear, then resolve. Nothing spectacular happens — yet something is forming. This week was like that. Progress is easy to misread when viewed too closely. At ground level, every delay feels significant. From a little…
Another week in Brida, and one thing becomes very clear: Nobody is talking in theory. They are talking about real doors that break. Real teeth that hurt. Real wives who wait with dinner. Real daughters who need curls before school. Real contracts that feel wrong. Real giraffes on a wine shelf. And somehow, in the…
