the green batas (the equivalent of the green berets)

Not really.

This is going to be a tryptic. Green Bata. Blue Bata. Red Bata. Not really. I'm messing with your mind. But I am thinking of turning Azeitão into my own version of Stanley Spencer's village Cookham, and making biblical allegories out of village/suburb life... with Paula Rego-esque twists of nastiness in them.

Or maybe this is a minimalist expression of what the village will be like today, MARKET DAY.

Or maybe this is pure one of my housework/boring-task avoidance tactics.

This week the president of the Republic (one can't just say the president here because it could mean anything from the mayor to the head of a company) is doing a thing like an "open house"... an "open presidency". He's going to spend four days on the road going to four big metropolitan areas, trying to work out why Portugal has the highest road deaths in Western Europe... and how to avoid this in future. Did you know that in Lisbon alone, last year, there were 14,000 accidents, causing 32 deaths 11 of whom were pedestrians? HOW CAN THAT BE?

ooo, oooo, (did you do that in school when you wanted your teacher to recognise your hand up in the air and going ooo oooo, like a baboon? maybe it was just an Ilfracombe School thing), Mister President, I'LL TELL YOU! me me me! Sometimes it takes an outsider to see things clearly. I see the road/death/idiocy problem clearly. Ask me Mister Sampaio! Please?