
The woman looked at me warningly as I hacked away at my bamboo reed. The attempt at making a bag clip was not going smoothly. Everyone else seemed to gracefully cut a long slit through the reed and had already begun sanding. I still was wedging my sharp blade bit by bit into the tough material, coming dangerously close to my thumbs. It’s safe to say I wouldn’t survive very long in rural Southern Portugal. Memories of the Algarve often included lots of fruity drinks, beach time with optional flocked…
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