Farmer Frankie* finds a waterfall

Written to Nevermind by Nirvana

If you only have a hammer, you tend to see every problem as a nail.
- Abraham Maslow

Over the past couple of months, the Polícia Florestal have been visiting regularly, looking for poachers. The police use our fazenda as their entry/exit point to inspect/protect the State park, Núcleo Santa Virginia. On one of their recent visits, they mentioned that they had stumbled across a waterfall not far from our house. On Wednesday, Rosana, Lone aka Frankie aka Frankie Four-Fingers (see below) and Dener decided to go on an expedition to find the waterfall. And find it they did. It was all Lone could talk about for the rest of the week. However, as they had wisely decided not to take the camera, I say wisely because Lone fell into at least one pool of water in between balancing on stones, Alfheim's newly discovered gem remained hidden to me.

That same day, Lone and Rosana went fishing for fresh-water shrimp, probably a form of crayfish. Not so appealing in the hand, but once cooked they transformed into a delight for both the eyes and the palate.

This week saw a drama of the female sort unfold when Rosana removed the unfertilized eggs from under a brooding Elle. Hormones raging, she quickly unseated the light-brown and white-speckled hen, who herself is brooding, from her nest. Needless to say, the light-brown and white-speckled hen did not take this affront to her maternal instincts lying down. Well, in a way she did, because she quickly pushed her way onto her nest alongside Elle until 24 hours later she had regained her throne by attrition.

On Saturday, Lone and I made a pilgrimage to the waterfall, camera in tow, carefully wrapped in a plastic bag and stowed away in a backpack. Barely 15 minutes from our house lies a breathtaking, six-seven meter high waterfall. We cleared a bit of the flotsam and jetsam in the pool and then went for a shower. As it was quite warm that day, the water was cool but not chilly. Wonderful! Be sure to bring your bathing suits when you visit.

Speaking of guests, I have compiled a list of essentials for those of you planning to visit Alfheim:

• Boots or better still Wellington boots
• A broad-rimmed hat
• Chocolate for the hosts (unlike the Auditors of Reality in Terry Pratchett's Discworld series of fantasy novels, the powerful experience of the flavor of chocolate is not fatal for Lone and me)
  

This week we passed a mini-milestone of sorts: we managed to produce a complete meal consisting solely of animals and plants produced at Alfheim. The meal comprised a succulent chicken, fried squash, fresh tomatoes and Lone's fresh baked havre boller, Danish for oat buns. Okay, so the oat buns were not made of locally-produced ingredients, but everything else was. More importantly, I can state without hesitation that until you have eaten organic, free-range chicken of the non-Dwarf variety, you have not tasted chicken. Exquisite!

It being goiabada or guava season, we should have topped off this meal with freshly harvested goiabada. Unfortunately, the local goiabada suffers from some sort of illness. Unfortunate for Lone and me, but fortunate for the pigs, who have been receiving daily bucketfuls of fresh produce, primarily goiabada but also squash and tomatoes to complement their more pedestrian rations of organic corn and wheat. The only risk is leaving the bucket unguarded for even a moment.

We will soon be able to harvest Caqui or Persimmon, which unlike goiabada seems to flourish here at Alfheim. Can't wait!

When she otherwise has a free minute, Lone has taken up weaving baskets from bamboo.

The growth of the girasol or sunflowers is nothing short of Chernobyl-like. In one week they have gone from this to this!

And speaking of growing fast, Huginn and Muninn are rapidly approaching Layla in overall body size. If possible, Huginn appears to be growing faster than Muninn, who despite his physical prowess continues to be as gentle as ever. That said watching Muninn dig himself a hole to rest in is like watching Caterpillar earth-moving equipment operate. Layla was lying behind his chosen resting spot on Saturday and was nearly buried alive.

The Mad Hatters (Nelore) seem to be settling down under the gentle influence of Bolinha and to a lesser extent Castanhã and Alazão, and from time to time they actually look a bit like cattle rather than pre-pubescent girls at their first sock-hop.

This week will see Marcos and his father will return for a second week of work, the arrival of a new crew of fencers, this time from Paraibuna, and a local stone cutter.

* Owing to her penchant for cutting herself while working in the kitchen, Johannes, Esben, Pelle and I lovingly refer to Lone as Frankie, i.e. Franky Four-Fingers, a reference to Benicio Del Toro's legendary character in Snatch.