My Sunday in the country was a little different than "A Sunday in the Country" or "Un Dimanche à la Compagne" a film by Bertrand Tavernier that I haven't seen in years, but just now popped into my head.

The story is about an old artist who lives in the country at the turn of the last century. Every Sunday his son would come to visit him bringing along his wife and 2 children. The obedience and tradition of the society at the time is shown in contrasts of old world and the approaching modern world.

The son strives for his father's approval but is outshadowed by his flamboyant and modern sister who arrives from afar on that same Sunday. The contrasts are bold. The film is beautifully shot, just like an impressionist painting's muted brush strokes.


The viewer, of course, is aware of the advancement of the modern world. It is this old world I really try to envision, maybe it's the romanticism of the era, but it absolutely fascinates me. I guess I'm just a romantic at heart.

Here in Portugal this old world still exists.


Anyways I thought of this film when last Sunday André and I went to see some friends who own a house in a very tiny village up behind the hills from our home in Carreço. Our friends do not actually live in this village, rather they rent this home to German tourists each summer.

They bought the property in 1982, two years after André bought his house, and began by installing a mobile home on the property. Since then they have added and built to where it is now, a completely modern "old looking house". It has everything; swimming pool, tennis, sauna, chickens, rabbits, birds, ducks, and more in a rustic, beautifully kept setting. The village is quite charming and so small it only contains a chapel and a few homes. Not even a public phone can be found.

Well last Sunday our friends bought the adjoining property behind their back wall. We all walked over to explore this new property. It was like walking back in time. I like imagining who might have lived there before. Standing in ruins, we saw three stone cottages. There are also many stone waist high walls, also crumbling. All in all it was at one time a small village as it is now called "aldeia velha" or old village.

Of course, our friends have a project to re-build these stone cottages for their tourist business and that's fine, cause I know that they will do a fantastic job. I'm sure they will keep in mind the natural setting.

We then walked further up the hill on the same stone path that is still used by farmers who walk their cows up to the pastures to feed. We even observed grooves dug in the stone path from the repeated trips of their carts.

Further still up the path we found another ruin. It was an old chapel. The cornice from the portico was lying in front of the entrance. Like the three cottages, the chapel was lacking a roof, but the walls of stones stand still after who knows how many years.

One can ask, what does this have to do with the film, Un dimanche à la compagne"?

Just came back from the doctor. I have an A+ in regards to my health.

It was on a Tuesday afternoon in November of last year that I went to pick up the results of my biopsy. Carcinoma is the same word in Portuguese and English. There I sat very somber in the waiting hall, waiting to see my doctor and discuss this biopsy. I was overcome with fear of my future and fear and sorrow for my family, they being far away.

One is never prepared for this news and I think each person handles it differently. The fear that I was going die was so great.

Panic and fear, but then came some calm and certitude and acceptance that I was going to beat this and move forward.

I was lucky I had a sympathetic and assuring surgeon. He drew diagrams and explained the surgery that he would do and the probable type of cancer that I had and what the possible treatment would be. He was very reassuring and that helped my mental state quite a lot.

I was to go into the private hospital in Viana do Castelo the following Tuesday at 2 o'clock in the afternoon. This is where my private insurance comes through.

The surgery was done at 8 o'clock that evening.

I stayed in the hospital till Saturday morning and then went home.

My prognosis was very good. My cancer had been localized, about 1 cm in size. That was very good news. I would not need chemo-therapy. The cancer had not traveled to any lymph glands, lungs, organs, or under my arm. They had removed the lymph glands under my armpit as a causionary measure.

I had to carry a sack attached to me under my left arm to collect all the fluids that would drain from the lymph glands that had been removed. This fluid had to be checked by the nurse and measured everyday. I ended up having to carry this sack for almost 2 weeks. I seemed to have had an abundance of fluids, I don't know why. After I went home I had to go to the hospital every evening to have the charge nurse empty the sack and mark the amount of fluid.

During this time I also saw the surgeon 3 or 4 times. He told me as long as there was such a large quanity of fluid coming out and until it became less bloody and more like body fluid I had to continue with the sack.

I was given an appointment to see my surgeon, but this time it was to be in the public hospital. I was to go to the oncology section of the hospital.

My treatment was to be as follows:

Radiation therapy in Porto for 6 weeks.

And I would be taking each day at the same hour 1 anti-hormone medicine, Tamoxifen for the next 5 years. My cancer had been fed by hormones.

My doctor gave me some Tamoxifen, enough for 3 months and scripts to pick up more in the hospital pharmacy. I was also told of all the possible side effects that this medicine could cause. All the medicine was free.

On top of that I got forms signed by the doctor, 30 days of free door to door transportation to Porto by the voluntary fire-department. This seemed unimaginable to me, coming from United States where this would be unheard of.

An appointment was made for me to go to Porto at the Radiation clinic. I then needed to go to the voluntary fire department in Viana do Castelo and to make the arrangements for my transportation to Porto.


They would be picking me up at 7 in the morning Monday through Friday. I was always the first, since I live in the village farthest away. There were ususally 5 or 6 others patients to be picked up and taken to Porto for different kinds of treatments in different locals. The drive to Porto is less than 1 hour from Viana do Castelo.

The radiation clinic in Porto was excellent and the doctor there spoke English, my surgeon spoke only Portuguese.

The treatment itself took only 3 minutes, plus the time to take off your tee-shirt. There would always be a wait, the waiting area at the clinic was always full of people. And the travel time, long and tiresome having to drive through all the villages picking-up and taking home.I was always the first pick-up and the last to get off.

During this time I could not get the treatment side of my breast wet or use any creams. I could not wear a bra. I was to wear only 100% cotton tee shirts that had a high neck line. No sun expossure at all, but this was winter time and not too difficult to follow. It was harder to wash my hair since I had to keep my left breat dry.

I would get home at around 12:30, Andre would be waiting and always had some soup made and ready for me to eat. The weather was cold, it was December. After eating some soup I would go to sleep, I was exhausted.

I am a survivor of breast cancer.

And this is about health care Portuguese style. I live in a country with socialized medicine. Therefore I have the right to the Portuguese public health care system even though I have never worked in Portugal and have never paid into the system by way of income taxes. I am a Portuguese citizen, a cancer survivor and, therefore have these rights.

Which means:

1. I am allowed to have consultations with my surgeon in the public (even though now private/public) hospital. Fee: 2 euros 75 centimos each visit.

2. My medicine treatment, Tamoxifen is given to me free (and I need to take this anti-hormone medicine for five years).

3. Necessary blood tests, x-rays, mameograms, any treatment having to do with my breast cancer is included. So I pay very low fees. 7 euros 70 centimos blood work done. Mameogram, 2 euros 70 centimos. Chest x-ray 2 euros 70 centimos.

4. I have been told that if I had any mortgage to pay to the bank I would be exempt during my treatment course. I think that this is if you work and would not have a salary coming in to pay the bank. You also would get help with electricity and basics. I do not fall into this category.

I am lucky that I live near a good hospital and only 1 hour away from Porto and the IPO, the hospital in the north of the country where most cancer treatment takes place. The other good hospitals are in Coimbra and Lisboa.

I also have a private insurance which I pay each month and is a guarantee for instant treatment and allows me admission to private hospitals. The public health care system can have waiting lists and being on a waiting list can mean life or death and is a big problem for many of the population. Unfortunately, like all systems, there is favoritism. If you know someone in the hierarchy you will most likely be treated quicker and maybe even bypass the wait-list.

When I discovered my breast cancer it was during a routine mameogram. I remember well; (who ever forgets these events)

It was a Wednesday afternoon, had the mameogram done and was told to wait for the results, did not think anything of it, only that I would not have to come back in 2 weeks time and wait in line again to get the results.
Well, I got the results and got into the car and opened the envelope right away and saw the news that was advising me to get a biopsy!

It was 6 PM.

In my frame of mind I wanted to see a doctor right away, I was panicky and told Andre to drive to a medical office near-by where a good friend had recommended to me an OB-GYN doctor.

When I arrived at the medical office I showed my private insurance card. The receptionist told me that the OB-GYN doctor was not there that day, but there was a surgeon in the office working.

Okay. The receptionist spoke with the surgeon and showed him my mameogram. He told her that he would see me that very evening if I wanted to wait.

Of course I'll wait, who wouldn't. I did not have authorization from the insurance company before hand, but I didn't need it. I would pay 30 euros instead of 15, but who cares about money when it comes to your health!

Luck for an unlucky event.

The first thing he asked me was if I had come to see "Him" since he is considered the specialist on breast cancer in Viana do Castelo. I told him the story about the OB-GYN doctor in this office who had been recommended by a friend. At that moment I knew that I was in good hands

He examined me and found a lump on the upper quadrillel of my left breast and a possible lump under my left arm.

Don't panic he said, and asked me how fast I wanted to do the biopsy.

Rapido, I said.

He got on the phone right there in front of me and called the radiologist personally on a direct line. Being married to a doctor I remember how it's done when someone really wants to help. Doctors are usually available to other doctors right away.
Well the biopsy was scheduled for the Friday afternoon, 2 days away. Then he proceeded to educate me about breast cancer.

Till Friday, I just had to wait.

When Friday came and I had the biopsy and I then had to wait till Tuesday to get the results.

Sleepless Nights thinking about the worst. And waiting. Tell myself that it is nothing, only a little lump and not cancerous. At times such as these the mind is impossible to control. Just having to wait can be tortuous!

Today, I was busy as a bee and it felt good. Made a scrumptious dish. Braised lamb breast and no skin lentils with root vegetables. Braised the lamb in vinho do porto because I did not have any red wine. I did the lamb first thing in the late morning. It did not take more than 1 1/2 hours including prep time. I also made some more hummus. This time I put in less garlic, added a bunch of parsley and pepper flakes and used dried "grãu de bico" and still have some tahini left. I need to find a store that sells more. Maybe the healthfood store in the mall. Can you believe we have a mall here in Viana do Castelo. I rarely go, but tomorrow I will be close by and might take a peek at the health-food store. I also made apple turn-overs. They were really applesauce turn-overs. I had bought some frozen "pâte feuilletée" or "massa folhada" in Portuguese and had it in the freezer.

In the afternoon I walked up the hill behind the house to pick some flowers and some fresh eucalyptus leaves, it had rained earlier in the day and the smell of eucalypus was strong. Later on Miguel came by. He is an old friend of Josh, they are the same age. André is teaching him how to draw.

Just watched the news on TV and they were showing Chavez, the president of Venezuela,
in a photo with our prime minister of Portugal, José Socrates who a socialist. It's fun to watch on our TV news the comic acts Chavez's makes on "bushy w" especially the one when he called, "bush, the devil" and that "the air still smelled of surfur" from bushie's visist at the U.N. the previous day. He's falling and he's going to fall with many in his hard headed group, soon. Good-nite

Beginning the Beguine". I've been asked why no recent posts? I have no excuse, so I'll "begin the beguine."
The weather was rainy last week and fall's showing it's fantastic colors. The hurricanes across the Atlantic are bringing us rain, and wind, and thunder, and lightning, but it's the wind that can be so scary.

Last Saturday, rented 2 films that turned out to be completely two poles apart and it was unintentional. The first film I had wanted to see forever. It takes place in Galicia, Spain not far from where I live. It's a region I love, and less than an hour away, and if I spoke better Spanish would move there in a second. In the iron age, the whole area was occupied by the Celts. There are many existing "castros," round hut villages from the ancient times. The bagpipe is played there, still. Andre says that the bagpipe was played in Viana do Castelo in the past, too. We even speak a very similar language, Galego and Portuguese are very similar and understandable. Remember the film "Pharmacratic Inquisition" They spoke about Finisterra and the winter solstice, well it's located in the same Galicia. And it was there, in Finisterra that Stephanie cut her finger.
The film, because of it's "heavy" subject matter, I needed to be in a good frame of mind. The film, It turned out to be the most fantastic that I have seen in along time. It deserved the "Oscar". So poetic and so real and natural. Even in the way people communicated in the film, it never seemed like acting. It's a film about euthanasia. Now you know what the name of the film is, "Mar Adentro" the sea inside. Rent it and you, too, will float inside, outside, and all around the beautiful dialogue and music and story line. It's not depressing at all. A artistically beautiful story of love, and family, and compassion, and obligation, and sexiness, and more. And it really happened.

The second film was on the opposite spectrum, about wanting to live and helping to save a life in the name of love with our Italian Charlie Chaplin, Roberto Begninni. "Tiger and the Snow" has some funny scenes, but it is not as profound as the first film. I must say that Spain, today, has some outstanding directors. Art in Spain should be considered. The Spanish are very cultured and love life and are appreciative of art and it shows when you go into Spain, which I love to do.

Oh my gosh, I just read my last post and saw all the errors. I am sorry, I can't get the spell check to work and I wanted to put in a picture and that, too, didn't happen how it should. What's a girl like me to do?
Tonight we had our first roasted chestnuts while watching the first part of a five part series, I think BBC, about the origins of art and what attracts us to certain art. anyways in a nutshell it's all about EXAGERATION. In exagerating the human form it becomes much more interesting. So out with realism, it is too boring. They did a test with seagulls. Baby seagulls right after they are born peck their mother for food. It was found out that what the babies were pecking was the red in the beak of the mother. A test was done with a stick with a red painted stripe at the top and the babies pecked and pecked as if it was their mother. Then they decided to paint three red stripes on another stick. Both sticks were put in front of the baby seagulls. Low and behold, the babies were extra excited by the "three" red striped stick and even ignored the "one" red stripe stick. They showed that exageration of the stripes caused the increased excitment. Think about it and how exageration is used in the world around us in just about everything.

Tuesday and it's so hot. I going to make beet borsht. i am going to grate three cooked beets and add some fresh lemon juice and sugar, (about 2 1/2 tbsp lemon juice, 1/2 of a small lemon) and 3 tbsp sugar) 3/4 tsp salt, white pepper, 1 tbsp dried dill, 3 tbsp fresh minced chives, 4 cups water. put it all together and cill. I am chilling it now cause I just made it. After it is chilled, I will add 1 cup of crème fraîche. I love this chilled soup and brings back memories of my childhood, my mother and both my aunt Stella and aunt Marion made this soup.

sunday morning, first things first......folic acid and B complex then cafe au lait with some toast brought to me by André as he does just about every morning. I know i'm lucky in that aspect, he can be so kind in the mornings, but don't get me wrong, he's not a evil person. He just drinks too much and by evening, well. He admits it. Anyway getting on with the days a Have been sewing a skirt for my grand-daughter and her mom . I just finished both and am worried the skirt for vega is too small, but I sewed it according the measurements.
A friend, Isabelle and her boyfriend, Ricardo came over for lunch. She is a Portuguese language teacher and he works and lives in Porto. André cooked and made a feijada, which ia bean stew. It has a lot of stuff in it, pork, chicken cabbage, sausage, and vegetables. It is a typical meal in Portugal, although in Porto the traditional feijada is made with tripe. I eaten it before, but do not like it and thank goodness, neither does André.
finally going to post this.