<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467</id><updated>2009-11-08T02:03:10.348Z</updated><title type='text'>O AÇOR</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>508</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-1194757354401616655</id><published>2009-11-08T00:39:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-11-08T00:48:13.288Z</updated><title type='text'>Selo: Grupo de Amigos d´OAçor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O destino faz os parentes, a escolha os amigos. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Jacques Delille)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYSEdSSKYI/AAAAAAAAHcA/3e7JxIYTO3s/s1600-h/bronzerosebutterflydivider.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" sr="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYSEdSSKYI/AAAAAAAAHcA/3e7JxIYTO3s/s320/bronzerosebutterflydivider.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ontem fui buscar a Leonor ao colégio e trouxe-a para minha casa para matar saudades dos&amp;nbsp; dois anos em que ela esteve comigo. Hoje por cá continuou. A mãe veio almoçar e depois lá seguiram o seu destino. Foi um tempo de reviver momentos de alegria que ela, ao longo do seu pouco tempo de vida, me tem proporcionado. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;E que bom foi este tempinho que lhe dediquei! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Claro que atrasei tudo cá em casa. Por outro lado, ela encarregou-se de desarrumar os brinquedos e, após a sua saída, ocupei o meu tempo a colocar outra vez tudo em ordem. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Depois do jantar, perdi-me na blogosfera. Os blogues&amp;nbsp;amigos&amp;nbsp; cada vez me proporcionam mais descobertas e cada vez me ocupam mais tempo, tal é a diversidade de assuntos que temos ao&amp;nbsp; dispôr.&amp;nbsp; São histórias de vidas&amp;nbsp; alegres e tristes;&amp;nbsp; são também estórias e lendas de encantar;&amp;nbsp; narrativas de usos e costumes;&amp;nbsp; críticas e comentários; poemas de poetas famosos e de&amp;nbsp;outros que perseguem a fama; mostras dos mais &amp;nbsp;variados&amp;nbsp;estilos&amp;nbsp;de artesanato; etc, etc,...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Assim, o tempo passou e &amp;nbsp;quando me apercebi que não tinha&amp;nbsp;arranjado nada para escrever no post de hoje, decidi fazer um selinho, que dedico a todos os amigos que passam aqui pel´O Açor, com os votos dum bom fim de semana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Aqui o têm, feito a partir da fotografia duma das rosas do meu jardim, pronto para ser levado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYPw5CwLJI/AAAAAAAAHbw/Z0Ocszlz8Cw/s1600-h/SELOA%C3%87OR1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" sr="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYPw5CwLJI/AAAAAAAAHbw/Z0Ocszlz8Cw/s200/SELOA%C3%87OR1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-1194757354401616655?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/1194757354401616655/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=1194757354401616655' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/1194757354401616655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/1194757354401616655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/11/selo-grupo-de-amigos-doacor.html' title='Selo: Grupo de Amigos d´OAçor'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYSEdSSKYI/AAAAAAAAHcA/3e7JxIYTO3s/s72-c/bronzerosebutterflydivider.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-8693270543609000896</id><published>2009-11-06T23:43:00.007Z</published><updated>2009-11-07T00:51:16.640Z</updated><title type='text'>Hoje é Dia de Poesia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O ser humano precisa de um pouco de loucura. Do contrário, nunca ousa cortar a corda e ser livre. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Nikos Kazantzakis)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvS6W2GebhI/AAAAAAAAHXQ/2NsQ-BhsG4I/s1600-h/bronzerosebutterflydivider.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" sr="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvS6W2GebhI/AAAAAAAAHXQ/2NsQ-BhsG4I/s320/bronzerosebutterflydivider.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;LIBERDADE &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Ai que prazer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;não cumprir um dever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Ter um livro para ler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;e não o fazer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Ler é maçada,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;estudar é nada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;O sol doira sem literatura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;O rio corre bem ou mal,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;sem edição original.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;E a brisa, essa, de tão naturalmente matinal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;como tem tempo, não tem pressa... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Livros são papéis pintados com tinta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Estudar é uma coisa em que está indistinta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;A distinção entre nada e coisa nenhuma. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Quanto melhor é quando há bruma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Esperar por D. Sebastião,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Quer venha ou não! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Grande é a poesia, a bondade e as danças...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Mas o melhor do mundo são as crianças,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Flores, música, o luar, e o sol que peca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Só quando, em vez de criar, seca. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;E mais do que isto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;É Jesus Cristo,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Que não sabia nada de finanças,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Nem consta que tivesse biblioteca... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Fernando Pessoa &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvS4u43SpuI/AAAAAAAAHXI/HwlT7L7ROjo/s1600-h/Nona2.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" sr="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvS4u43SpuI/AAAAAAAAHXI/HwlT7L7ROjo/s320/Nona2.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-8693270543609000896?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/8693270543609000896/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=8693270543609000896' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/8693270543609000896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/8693270543609000896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/11/hoje-e-dia-de-poesia.html' title='Hoje é Dia de Poesia'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvS6W2GebhI/AAAAAAAAHXQ/2NsQ-BhsG4I/s72-c/bronzerosebutterflydivider.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-373202616216895502</id><published>2009-11-05T09:44:00.014Z</published><updated>2009-11-08T01:02:44.024Z</updated><title type='text'>Marinhas de Sal de Rio Maior</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A &lt;em&gt;chave de todas as ciências é o ponto de interrogação. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Honoré de Balzac)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYYmwncv8I/AAAAAAAAHcI/9mzLqf0s-2k/s1600-h/SeparA%C3%A7or.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" sr="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYYmwncv8I/AAAAAAAAHcI/9mzLqf0s-2k/s320/SeparA%C3%A7or.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Durante o fim de semana em que visitei a Quinta dos Loridos, visitei também, as salinas de Rio Maior. Estas salinas são únicas no género em funcionamento no país, pois encontram-se situadas a 30 Km da orla marinha, numa região predominantemente agrícola localizada no sopé da Serra dos Candeeiros.&lt;br /&gt;Esta serra possui no seu subsolo, para além de muitas grutas, vários lençóis de água doce e uma extensa mina de sal gema. A água doce ao atravessar a zona de sal gema, acaba por se tornar salgada, numa proporção sete vezes maior que a água do mar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400558866173130370" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvKjrObV9oI/AAAAAAAAHV0/couFKWAGobM/s400/PA170133.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;- Os talhos -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A água salgada é depois tirada através de poços, por motores que actualmente substituem as antigas picotas. É depois canalizada para tanques (talhos), onde vai ficar até que a água evapore deixando apenas o sal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400566559424864498" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvKqrCBfYPI/AAAAAAAAHWM/xv9Djsl4moE/s400/PA170136.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;- O local onde o sal é colocado até se encontrar completamente seco -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depois de bem seco, o sal é guardado em casas de madeira.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400563715277511538" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvKoFev623I/AAAAAAAAHWE/0-YL2YTAx4U/s400/PA170135.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;- Os armazéns de madeira -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actualmente, muitas dessas casas estão transformadas em estabelecimentos: lojas de artesanato e produtos locais, um posto turismo, cafés e restaurantes.&lt;br /&gt;Foi num destes restaurantes que almoçámos. Decorado com objectos locais usados antigamente e adaptados à actualidade, onde o bom gosto decorativo rivalizava o bom gosto da comida. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400556579969847666" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvKhmJqAUXI/AAAAAAAAHVs/6OXOfEdeB2o/s400/PA170131.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;- O restaurante onde almocei -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-373202616216895502?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/373202616216895502/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=373202616216895502' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/373202616216895502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/373202616216895502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/11/marinhas-de-sal-de-rio-maior.html' title='Marinhas de Sal de Rio Maior'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYYmwncv8I/AAAAAAAAHcI/9mzLqf0s-2k/s72-c/SeparA%C3%A7or.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-3750517949145922810</id><published>2009-11-04T22:05:00.005Z</published><updated>2009-11-08T01:14:50.228Z</updated><title type='text'>Buddha Eden</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A arte é a trilha que leva de volta, da fantasia à realidade. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Sigmund Freud)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYbe0I9w7I/AAAAAAAAHcQ/L_A4_Aj_zEU/s1600-h/SeparA%C3%A7or.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" sr="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYbe0I9w7I/AAAAAAAAHcQ/L_A4_Aj_zEU/s320/SeparA%C3%A7or.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para terminar o destaque que dei à Quinta dos Loridos, que visitei recentemente, deixo hoje aqui uma apresentação de slides com as fotografias que tirei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed align="middle" flashvars="cy=ok&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=3458764513856031880&amp;amp;site=widget-88.slide.com" name="flashticker" quality="high" salign="l" scale="noscale" src="http://widget-88.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" style="height: 320px; width: 426px;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" /&gt;&lt;/embed&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; width: 426px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ok&amp;amp;ct=1&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=3458764513856031880&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://widget-88.slide.com/d1/3458764513856031880/ok_t046_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide12.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ok&amp;amp;ct=1&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=3458764513856031880&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://widget-88.slide.com/d2/3458764513856031880/ok_t046_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SoXj7RP4epI/AAAAAAAAGjA/KyVvsIZp_sQ/s1600-h/P7210211.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-3750517949145922810?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/3750517949145922810/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=3750517949145922810' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/3750517949145922810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/3750517949145922810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/11/buddha-eden.html' title='Buddha Eden'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYbe0I9w7I/AAAAAAAAHcQ/L_A4_Aj_zEU/s72-c/SeparA%C3%A7or.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-2650073356890166951</id><published>2009-11-03T00:35:00.022Z</published><updated>2009-11-08T01:15:42.290Z</updated><title type='text'>O Oriente Aqui Tão Perto</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Podemos viajar por todo o mundo em busca do que é belo, mas se já não o trouxermos conosco, nunca o encontraremos. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(RalphEmerson)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYbrToJ74I/AAAAAAAAHcY/BDbfNP91I_c/s1600-h/SeparA%C3%A7or.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" sr="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYbrToJ74I/AAAAAAAAHcY/BDbfNP91I_c/s320/SeparA%C3%A7or.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na Quinta dos Loridos, o Jardim Oriental(o&lt;em&gt; Buddha Éden)&lt;/em&gt;, é um espaço de livre acesso que, ultimamente, tem despertado o interesse de muitos turistas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399995325083621602" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvCjI0RhGOI/AAAAAAAAHSc/U2g382YkSow/s400/PA170055.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 314px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400002845491243890" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvCp-j-aq3I/AAAAAAAAHT0/R1BIJ5kmqZw/s400/PA170090.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 319px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O jardim estende-se por uma área de 35 hectares através dos quais se pode passear tranquilamente, por caminhos que se circundam o espaço ou à beira dum lago ladeados por várias esculturas de grandes dimensões, feitas de mármore e granito . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400000514977256962" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvCn26IlVgI/AAAAAAAAHTc/CiSq2KXomIQ/s400/PA170073.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Junto ao lago, numa escadaria disposta em anfiteatro, distribuem-se vários budas e estátuas gigantescas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400009709305020130" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvCwOFrJPuI/AAAAAAAAHUM/AW_sEkEcGkE/s400/PA170061a.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 280px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399999973825122226" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvCnXaL3D7I/AAAAAAAAHTU/DLqhF-He_5E/s400/PA170068.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400009525671475634" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvCwDZlfubI/AAAAAAAAHUE/1u_uRzwNZkQ/s400/PA170067.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 324px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Existem também no jardim 700 soldados de terracotta pintados à mão, uma cópia dos que se encontravam na China há 2200 anos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400000986805799986" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvCoSX1RjDI/AAAAAAAAHTk/2iwxBQWpfxU/s400/PA170085.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400024749641772354" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvC95jS3LUI/AAAAAAAAHUc/nUzo0HRsDVI/s400/PA170121.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Este jardim foi idealizado por Joe Berardo e projectado pelo arquitecto José Cornélio que pretende que ele seja “uma evocação do Oriente feita por ocidentais” e que represente também “a presença portuguesa no Oriente e a interpenetração de culturas”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400002620437980674" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvCpxdliZgI/AAAAAAAAHTs/qDjgyDSDPKY/s400/PA170086.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399997638475395634" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvClPeVGMjI/AAAAAAAAHS8/HrhgEPM7V98/s400/PA170062.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O jardim pode ser visitado fazendo o percurso a pé, mas também se pode utilizar um combóio turístico ao dispôr de quem o visita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399994994604039474" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvCi1lJC3TI/AAAAAAAAHSU/EDO2m_KDa5Y/s400/PA170053.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399999476634433730" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvCm6eAXOMI/AAAAAAAAHTM/cMEyjn8l7Fw/s400/PA170066.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Embora muitas pessoas considerem o jardim desenquadrado do local não tendo nada a ver com a nossa cultura, eu acho que cada qual faz do seu dinheiro aquilo que lhe apetece e é bastante meritório o que Joe Berardo está a fazer, pondo o espaço à disposição de quem o visita de forma gratuita. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400010757637339618" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvCxLHBC-eI/AAAAAAAAHUU/2G4DfKSjpLU/s400/PA170123a.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 310px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Aconselho uma visita e, confesso que saí de lá com "os olhos em bico".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-2650073356890166951?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/2650073356890166951/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=2650073356890166951' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/2650073356890166951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/2650073356890166951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/11/o-oriente-aqui-tao-perto.html' title='O Oriente Aqui Tão Perto'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYbrToJ74I/AAAAAAAAHcY/BDbfNP91I_c/s72-c/SeparA%C3%A7or.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-5130900926636608958</id><published>2009-11-02T18:24:00.018Z</published><updated>2009-11-08T01:16:20.295Z</updated><title type='text'>Quinta dos Loridos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ninguém ignora tudo, ninguém sabe tudo. Por isso aprendemos sempre.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;( Paulo Freire )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/Su9sBRCVsNI/AAAAAAAAHR4/fw-iBXPTicE/s1600-h/PA170130.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYb2SV7JEI/AAAAAAAAHcg/SmMKgBQgJG4/s1600-h/SeparA%C3%A7or.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" sr="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYb2SV7JEI/AAAAAAAAHcg/SmMKgBQgJG4/s320/SeparA%C3%A7or.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Todos os anos eu e o meu marido costumamos fazer um retiro espiritual em Fátima, juntamente com um grupo de amigos. Como no grupo há três enfermeiras, aproveitamos sempre a peregrinação do pessoal de saúde, para estarmos presentes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A concentração realiza-se no Centro Pastoral Paulo VI, no Sábado por volta das 18 h, para uma palestra que dá inicio às cerimónias. Há uns anos atrás pensámos aproveitar a parte anterior ao início das cerimónias, com visitas a locais de interesse cultural, na região.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Este ano, começámos por visitar a Quinta dos Loridos, situada na freguesia do Carvalhal, concelho do Bombarral. Ali existe um Solar, que faz parte dum empreendimento hoteleiro de luxo e também uma vinha que produz uma conceituada marca de vinhos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Actualmente é propriedade do Comendador Joe Berardo, que nela anda a edificar dois jardins temáticos, um de cultura oriental e outro de cultura europeia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O primeiro está quase terminado e, o comendador pretende que aquele espaço se torne um local de meditação e de paz e “um contributo para um mundo melhor”.&lt;br /&gt;As fotografias que se seguem mostram a entrada da quinta, parte da vinha e alguns pormenores decorativos junto ao edifício que dá entrada para o Jardim Oriental, o &lt;em&gt;Buddha Éden,&lt;/em&gt; que mostrarei na próxima postagem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399653862297945458" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/Su9slERVxXI/AAAAAAAAHSA/xMSWD-vt87A/s400/PA170048a.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 301px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399654185945085330" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/Su9s3581NZI/AAAAAAAAHSI/FBdoRO-PhGk/s400/PA170049.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399585719470606466" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/Su8umodRSII/AAAAAAAAHRg/bEb2CYZGRTQ/s400/PA170051.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 312px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399651000017523874" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/Su9p-dcglKI/AAAAAAAAHRo/N-j6QSa_VJs/s400/PA170094.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SoXj7RP4epI/AAAAAAAAGjA/KyVvsIZp_sQ/s1600-h/P7210211.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399652424314950546" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/Su9rRXXek5I/AAAAAAAAHRw/x3oGnwxI-GE/s400/PA170096.JPG" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SoXj7RP4epI/AAAAAAAAGjA/KyVvsIZp_sQ/s1600-h/P7210211.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-5130900926636608958?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/5130900926636608958/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=5130900926636608958' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/5130900926636608958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/5130900926636608958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/11/quinta-dos-loridos.html' title='Quinta dos Loridos'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYb2SV7JEI/AAAAAAAAHcg/SmMKgBQgJG4/s72-c/SeparA%C3%A7or.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-2522769209103046461</id><published>2009-10-31T19:21:00.007Z</published><updated>2009-11-08T01:16:56.855Z</updated><title type='text'>Halloween</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Crenças devidem as pessoas. Dúvidas as unem. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Peter Ustinov&lt;/em&gt;) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYcAUJPVWI/AAAAAAAAHco/e5EYmS0ccGI/s1600-h/SeparA%C3%A7or.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" sr="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYcAUJPVWI/AAAAAAAAHco/e5EYmS0ccGI/s320/SeparA%C3%A7or.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.meusrecados.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.meusrecados.com/"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://s246.photobucket.com/albums/gg111/meusrecadoscom/dia_das_bruxas/0060.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tinha acabado de me sentar, após ter arrumado a cozinha do jantar, quando me tocaram à porta. Fui surpreendida por um grupo de crianças gritando:&lt;br /&gt;"Gostusuras ou travessuras".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://kifofo.com/pt/dia-das-bruxas/"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://i509.photobucket.com/albums/s332/kirecado/mensagens/dia-das-bruxas/1.gif" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 78%;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://kifofo.net/logo.gif" /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Lá consegui arranjar uns bolinhos e uns rebuçados que lhes dei e eles partiram em grande algazarra em direcção a outra casa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noite de Halloween é assim. Aos poucos esta tradição anglo-saxónica vai ganhando raízes no nosso país, substituindo o tradicional o pão por Deus.&lt;br /&gt;É a globalização que toma conta de nós e nos faz perder as nossas tradições.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SoXj7RP4epI/AAAAAAAAGjA/KyVvsIZp_sQ/s1600-h/P7210211.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-2522769209103046461?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/2522769209103046461/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=2522769209103046461' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/2522769209103046461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/2522769209103046461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/10/halloween.html' title='Halloween'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SvYcAUJPVWI/AAAAAAAAHco/e5EYmS0ccGI/s72-c/SeparA%C3%A7or.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-7712741868902362202</id><published>2009-10-30T19:55:00.006Z</published><updated>2009-10-30T23:19:16.058Z</updated><title type='text'>Pudim de Castanhas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A gula é um vício que nunca acaba, e é aquele vício que cresce sempre, quanto mais o homem envelhece.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Carlo Goldoni)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966469735683106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 34px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s400/flowerbar.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Há tempos que não faço uma sobremesa, pois evito-as o mais possível. Mesmo assim, já é o que se vê: gordinha e anafada. No entanto, com o fim de semana à porta e com a visita dos filhos, da nora e da Leonor, estive a pensar que uma sobremesa não podia faltar em cima da mesa. Pensei que a fruta seria sempre uma alternativa ( a mais saudável). Mas que diabo. Um dia na semana não fará mal. A gula venceu.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Estamos em época de castanhas e, há algum tempo atrás, vi uma receita dum pudim de castanhas numa revista que comprei. Como não me lembrei onde a tinha colocado, vim para a internet pesquisar. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Encontrei a receita no blog da &lt;em&gt;VÓ MINDOCA&lt;/em&gt; em &lt;a href="http://vomindoca.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://vomindoca.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt; e deixo-vo-la aqui.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PUDIM DE CASTANHAS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ingredientes:&lt;br /&gt;2 xícaras de chá de puré de castanhas cozidas&lt;br /&gt;1 lata de leite condensado&lt;br /&gt;1 lata (medida) de leite&lt;br /&gt;1 colher de café de canela&lt;br /&gt;5 gemas&lt;br /&gt;3 ovos&lt;br /&gt;125 g de açúcar para a calda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Modo de preparo:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Com o açúcar prepare um caramelo claro e forre com ele o interior de uma forma.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;No liquidificador bata o leite condensado com o puré de castanhas, o leite, a canela, os ovos e as gemas, e deite na forma.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Leve a cozer, cerca de 40 minutos em forno médio, verifique se está cozido espetando um palito, retire e deixe esfriar. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398531430981766674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/Sutvu9xzDhI/AAAAAAAAHN8/YLS2q7jEtHQ/s400/pudimcastanhas" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;O aspecto da imagem fez com que me resolvesse. Espero que gostem. Bom Proveito.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-7712741868902362202?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/7712741868902362202/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=7712741868902362202' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/7712741868902362202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/7712741868902362202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/10/pudim-de-castanhas.html' title='Pudim de Castanhas'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s72-c/flowerbar.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-4315964581273965643</id><published>2009-10-29T22:16:00.009Z</published><updated>2009-10-29T23:46:11.455Z</updated><title type='text'>Convívio em Sobral Magro</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O bem-estar na vida obtém-se com o aperfeiçoamento da convivência entre os homens.&lt;br /&gt;(Textos Judaicos)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966469735683106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 34px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s400/flowerbar.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;A Comissão de Melhoramentos de Sobral Magro vai realizar o seu habitual Almoço - Convívio no próximo dia 28 de Novembro.&lt;br /&gt;O Programa será o seguinte:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SuoiIKBwhuI/AAAAAAAAHNU/_KgFfjDCLBs/s1600-h/emblemaSM.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398164626882987746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 144px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SuoiIKBwhuI/AAAAAAAAHNU/_KgFfjDCLBs/s400/emblemaSM.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ALMOÇO-CONVÍVIO&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;EM SOBRAL MAGRO&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;28-11-09&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;PROGRAMA&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13h - Almoço Convívio :&lt;br /&gt;- Chouriço assado&lt;br /&gt;- Porco no Espeto&lt;br /&gt;- Arroz de feijão&lt;br /&gt;- Sobremesa *&lt;br /&gt;- Bebidas&lt;br /&gt;- Café e Digestivo&lt;br /&gt;15 h - Actuação do Grupo de Cantares do Alva e do Açor&lt;br /&gt;17 h – Lanche ajantarado&lt;br /&gt;- Caldo Verde&lt;br /&gt;- Bifanas&lt;br /&gt;- Castanhas Assadas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;* A Direcção pede a cada família que leve um doce ou um bolo para compor uma mesa, de onde serão servidas as sobremesas. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A exemplo dos anos anteriores, no dia 29 realizar-se-á a Missa, seguida de Romagem ao Cemitério.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SuogqyeZx7I/AAAAAAAAHNE/d-uya_30iSk/s1600-h/boneco.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398163022832846770" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 325px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SuogqyeZx7I/AAAAAAAAHNE/d-uya_30iSk/s400/boneco.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O preço será de 15,00 € por pessoa. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As inscrições podem ser feitas para:&lt;br /&gt;João de Carvalho: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Tel. -218862746&lt;br /&gt;Agostinho Dias:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Tel.- 936186060&lt;br /&gt;M. de Lourdes: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Tel. – 964446419&lt;br /&gt;ou 212123798&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contamos com a presença do maior número de associados e amigos neste convívio, que é indispensável para que este evento seja um sucesso e será uma oportunidade para nos juntarmos, confraternizarmos e mostrar aos novos elementos da Comissão que estamos com eles.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SoXj7RP4epI/AAAAAAAAGjA/KyVvsIZp_sQ/s1600-h/P7210211.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-4315964581273965643?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/4315964581273965643/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=4315964581273965643' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/4315964581273965643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/4315964581273965643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/10/convivio-em-sobral-magro.html' title='Convívio em Sobral Magro'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s72-c/flowerbar.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-30999271589840313</id><published>2009-10-28T21:33:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-10-28T23:24:18.209Z</updated><title type='text'>Prémio VIP</title><content type='html'>Não permita que nada se estrague, você inclusive, preencha a todos com felicidade, a também, que isso é o bom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Bertolt Brecht)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966469735683106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 34px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s400/flowerbar.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Uma vez mais, a amiga &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/em-prosa-e-verso.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dulce Costa&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/a&gt;do Em-Prosa-e-em-Verso, contemplou-me com um prémio. Desta vez considerou o Açor, um blog VIP. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397794847714200466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 181px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SujR0LRwS5I/AAAAAAAAHLk/QJpFg6O7LJ4/s400/Selo_Blog_VIP.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Sinto-me muito honrada e com uma responsabilidade acrescida que vou tentar não desmerecer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;De seguida, vou-o colocar no meu cantinho, junto com todos os outros.&lt;/div&gt;Muito obrigada Dulce, pela gentileza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Agora cumpre-me seguir as regras e indicar doze blogs, para receberem também esse prémio. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://minha-ilha-meu-berco.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://minha-ilha-meu-berco.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://sandraandrade8.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://sandraandrade8.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lunacristalina-marisol.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://lunacristalina-marisol.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://filomena-crochet-tricot-costura.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://filomena-crochet-tricot-costura.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://templodossabores.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://templodossabores.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://pitangadoce.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://pitangadoce.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bogasdebaixo.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://bogasdebaixo.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://elisabete-crochetcomamor.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://elisabete-crochetcomamor.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://spaceduh.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://spaceduh.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://alcaso.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://alcaso.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://imagensdecoupage-borboleta-azul.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://imagensdecoupage-borboleta-azul.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://telhadoquim.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://telhadoquim.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SoXj7RP4epI/AAAAAAAAGjA/KyVvsIZp_sQ/s1600-h/P7210211.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-30999271589840313?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/30999271589840313/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=30999271589840313' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/30999271589840313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/30999271589840313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/10/premio-vip.html' title='Prémio VIP'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s72-c/flowerbar.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-7737058419300371416</id><published>2009-10-27T20:51:00.007Z</published><updated>2009-10-27T23:59:34.909Z</updated><title type='text'>Em Prosa e Verso</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O valor das coisas não está no tempo que elas duram, mas na intensidade com que acontecem. Por isso existem momentos inesquecíveis, coisas inexplicáveis e pessoas incomparáveis.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Fernando Pessoa)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966469735683106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 34px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s400/flowerbar.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Hoje vou escrever sobre alguém que conheci através do mundo virtual há uns meses atrás. Chama-se Dulce e entrou no meu mundo através do Açor, comentando um post. Fui ver quem era a autora do simpático comentário e deparei com um blog de nome Em Prosa e Verso. Li o post do dia e depois o anterior, o anterior, o anterior, etc., etc.. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;A cada post que lia, encontrava sempre alguma coisa com a qual me identificava e, cheguei à conclusão que temos alguns gostos e parte do percurso de vida idênticos. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;A partir de então, fiquei visita diária do Em Prosa e Verso que faz hoje um ano de existência e que recomendo a todos uma visita em: &lt;a href="http://em-prosa-e-verso.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://em-prosa-e-verso.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;Para festejar, a Dulce recebe hoje todos os seus amigos com este selinho:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397426358058060994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 113px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SueCrQVhjMI/AAAAAAAAHKk/9UEVhdDK-jM/s400/ProsaPrimeiro_AB.png" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora, vou fazer uma viagem virtual até ao Brasil para, com a amiga Dulce, comemorar o aniversário do seu lindo blog e, vou levar também um presente: uma flor muito especial do meu jardim que tem o mesmo nome que tinha a minha mãe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397424994846119778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 277px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 258px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SueBb5-eF2I/AAAAAAAAHKc/eAqbE7G22JI/s400/presente.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SoXj7RP4epI/AAAAAAAAGjA/KyVvsIZp_sQ/s1600-h/P7210211.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-7737058419300371416?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/7737058419300371416/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=7737058419300371416' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/7737058419300371416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/7737058419300371416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/10/em-prosa-e-verso.html' title='Em Prosa e Verso'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s72-c/flowerbar.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-2364126044557665969</id><published>2009-10-26T19:27:00.006Z</published><updated>2009-10-27T00:20:00.882Z</updated><title type='text'>A Caça</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sede como os pássaros que, ao pousarem um instante sobre ramos muito leves, sentem-nos ceder, mas cantam! Eles sabem que possuem asas.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Victor Hugo)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966469735683106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 34px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s400/flowerbar.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Outono é também tempo de caça. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Antigamente a serra do Açor era povoada por animais de caça em abundância. Em Outubro, era normal verem-se grupos de caçadores devidamente equipados, acompanhados pelos seus cães, subirem as encostas da serra em busca de coelhos bravos, perdizes e lebres.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Quando chegavam com os animais caçados pendurados à cintura, era grande a algazarra provocada pela alegria dos cães entusiasmados com a caçada. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397067165173788722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SuY7_ekbsDI/AAAAAAAAHKI/AskGf5AKtNA/s400/ca%C3%A7a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;- Caçador (José Mendes) com os cães e os coelhos-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Com o passar dos anos, os animais de caça foram escasseando e, por se encontrarem em perigo de extinção, foram aplicadas novas regras, e criadas reservas, tendo por fim proteger as espécies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Hoje em dia, os caçadores da região passam dias percorrendo a serra e, a maior parte das vezes, não caçam qualquer animal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Há dias, quando estive no Sobral Magro, andava o meu pai à caça e eu tive que me deslocar a Avô. Na estrada entre o Sobral Magro e o Agroal, avistei um grupo perdizes. Abrandei a marcha e pude observá-las saltitando e correndo na berma até que levantaram vôo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397009698526418658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 302px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SuYHueoBVuI/AAAAAAAAHKA/z0qpprA1IfE/s400/Perdizes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;- Três das perdizes no Vale das Videiras, na berma da estrada - &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Pessoalmente, este desporto não me entusiasma nada, no entanto o meu pai é caçador. Escusado será dizer que, houve uma grande risada quando o meu pai chegou a casa sem qualquer animal e eu lhe mostrei a fotografia com as perdizes, que eu tirei ali tão perto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-2364126044557665969?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/2364126044557665969/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=2364126044557665969' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/2364126044557665969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/2364126044557665969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/10/caca.html' title='A Caça'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s72-c/flowerbar.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-1031959291448310111</id><published>2009-10-24T22:48:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T23:08:12.564Z</updated><title type='text'>Outono</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;em&gt;Outono é outra primavera, cada folha uma flor.&lt;br /&gt;(Albert Camus)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966469735683106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 34px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s400/flowerbar.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O Outono já está instalado em Portugal. A serra do Açor prepara-se para o Inverno, frio e agreste que nos acompanhará até à chegada da Primavera.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nos dias que permaneci no Sobral Magro, as manhãs começavam assim:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396672272135223602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SuTU1rXR-TI/AAAAAAAAHJo/gTVHa4F3ZcE/s400/PA090468.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;- No Sobral Magro -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As noites já frescas aconselhavam a permanecer em casa, na companhia dum livro enroscada num cobertor quentinho.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396675151347382674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SuTXdRQ8-ZI/AAAAAAAAHJ4/pLjEW8J2mBM/s400/PA100023.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Em Pomares -&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A propósito, um poema de Antero de Quental, extraído dum desses livros. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Voz de Outono &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ouve tu, meu cansado coração, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O que te diz a voz da Natureza: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;— «Mais te valera, nú e sem defesa, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ter nascido em aspérrima soidão, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ter gemido, ainda infante, sobre o chão &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Frio e cruel da mais cruel deveza, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do que embalar-te a Fada da Beleza, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Como embalou, no berço da Ilusão! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mais valera à tua alma visionária &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Silenciosa e triste ter passado &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Por entre o mundo hostil e a turba vária, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Sem ver uma só flor, das mil, que amaste) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Com ódio e raiva e dor... que ter sonhado &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Os sonhos ideais que tu sonhaste!»&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;— Antero de Quental, in "Sonetos"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396674773087315266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SuTXHQIuZUI/AAAAAAAAHJw/1pDsVv2ZH4k/s400/PA090530.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SoXj7RP4epI/AAAAAAAAGjA/KyVvsIZp_sQ/s1600-h/P7210211.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;- Em Avô -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-1031959291448310111?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/1031959291448310111/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=1031959291448310111' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/1031959291448310111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/1031959291448310111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/10/outono.html' title='Outono'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s72-c/flowerbar.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-675315111886214648</id><published>2009-10-23T23:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T23:22:19.581+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Feira da Castanha</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;A natureza delicia-se na comida mais simples. Todos os animais, exceto o homem, comem um só &lt;em&gt;prato. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Joseph Addison)&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966469735683106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 34px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s400/flowerbar.gif" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Mais uma vez se vai realizar a habitual Feira da Castanha na povoação do Vale de Maceira, da freguesia de Aldeia das Dez, nos dias 24 e 25 de Outuro. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Esta vai ser a oitava edição desta mostra gastronómica e etnográfica da Beira Serra, que terá como rainha a castanha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O programa será o seguinte:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395900316847730530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 280px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SuIWv90gb2I/AAAAAAAAHJQ/jGfTpwkpIuw/s400/cartaz%25202009_fcVIII.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Esta festa tem tido grande sucesso nas últimas edições e espero que a população das aldeias tanto da freguesia de Aldeia das Dez, como das freguesias vizinhas, acorram ao local e participem neste evento dando assim maior movimento à serra do Açor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SoXj7RP4epI/AAAAAAAAGjA/KyVvsIZp_sQ/s1600-h/P7210211.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-675315111886214648?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/675315111886214648/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=675315111886214648' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/675315111886214648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/675315111886214648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/10/feira-da-castanha_23.html' title='Feira da Castanha'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s72-c/flowerbar.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-1556320422458527702</id><published>2009-10-22T21:37:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T00:13:23.344+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Menos um Habitante no Sobral Magro</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Os mortos são apenas invisíveis, mas não ausentes. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Leonardo Boff)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966469735683106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 34px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s400/flowerbar.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SuDNFVF1RQI/AAAAAAAAHJA/d0Ar1cu1VJg/s1600-h/luto.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395537845034501378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 223px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SuDNFVF1RQI/AAAAAAAAHJA/d0Ar1cu1VJg/s400/luto.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As nossas aldeias estão cada vez mais despovoadas. Desta vez foi o Porfírio que nos deixou.&lt;br /&gt;Faleceu ontem e foi hoje o seu funeral, sendo cremado no cemitério do Alto de S. João. Não sendo natural do Sobral Magro, foi para ali viver há bastantes anos e por ali permaneceu até adoecer e ter que voltar para Lisboa.&lt;br /&gt;Imagens como esta não se voltarão a repetir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395563434708046722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SuDkW2DcE4I/AAAAAAAAHJI/CXisZKU-eoU/s400/Porfirio.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Que a sua alma descanse em paz.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;À família enlutada apresento as minhas sinceras condolências.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SoXj7RP4epI/AAAAAAAAGjA/KyVvsIZp_sQ/s1600-h/P7210211.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-1556320422458527702?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/1556320422458527702/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=1556320422458527702' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/1556320422458527702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/1556320422458527702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/10/menos-um-habitante-do-sobral-magro.html' title='Menos um Habitante no Sobral Magro'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s72-c/flowerbar.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-4255671612951040471</id><published>2009-10-22T00:09:00.012+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T11:11:18.997+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Magustos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SuAs0tqjn-I/AAAAAAAAHIw/O-CMwg_Ek3I/s1600-h/PA210005.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SuAjtR9dIHI/AAAAAAAAHIo/grjXKVRVgt4/s1600-h/PA210005.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Comer e beber mantêm a alma e o corpo juntos. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Heinrich Böll)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966469735683106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 34px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s400/flowerbar.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Antigamente, nas regiões do interior, tudo era pretexto para as pessoas se juntarem e se divertirem. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Após as colheitas e vindimas, em que o trabalho era intenso, chegava a época das castanhas. Quem tinha castanheiros, assava as castanhas nas lareiras de suas casas, umas vezes nas brasas da fogueira, outras usando um assador improvisado, furando um tacho velho ou uma lata. Na rua juntavam-se algumas pessoas para fazeremos magustos, isto é: assavam-se as castanhas numa fogueira feita  com a caruma seca dos pinheiros. A acompanhar as castanhas, para não ficar &lt;em&gt;embuchado&lt;/em&gt; e ajudar à festa, bebia-se água-pé, vinho, ou jeropiga. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395201222842027410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/St-a7VtAjZI/AAAAAAAAHIQ/25E6XVB0TUI/s400/Fotos-0040_65.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nestes magustos, as pessoas divertiam-se não só comendo as castanhas, como enfarruscando-se uns aos outros. Muitas vezes, os rapazes aproveitavam para se aproximarem mais das raparigas casadoiras pois nessa época, só em ocasiões festivas isso era possível.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nas regiões urbanas, nesta altura do ano, era frequente encontrar-se o homem das castanhas, junto ao seu carrinho equipado com um fogareiro e um assador. As castanhas assavam enquanto ele apregoava: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"Quem quer quentes e boas?"&lt;br /&gt;De vez em quando os transeuntes aproximavam-se com uma moeda na mão, que trocavam por um cartucho feito duma folha de jornal, cheio com castanhas quentinhas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395349026490630370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SuAhWpM5QOI/AAAAAAAAHIg/OiXz5AISX20/s400/castanhas+Jos%C3%A9+Gomes.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Imagens Google, foto de José Gomes)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Hoje em dia, ainda se podem encontrar alguns vendedores ambulantes nas zonas mais movimentadas das cidades, em casa assam-se as castanhas no fogão a gás , em assadores de barro e, nas zonas rurais em datas especiais, ainda se fazem magustos,  recordando os tempos passados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395361792145219394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 304px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SuAs9s-H30I/AAAAAAAAHI4/o05o5BmyiIo/s400/PA210005.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- O meu assador de castanhas -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SoXj7RP4epI/AAAAAAAAGjA/KyVvsIZp_sQ/s1600-h/P7210211.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-4255671612951040471?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/4255671612951040471/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=4255671612951040471' title='8 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/4255671612951040471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/4255671612951040471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/10/magustos.html' title='Magustos'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s72-c/flowerbar.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-2160127714905877338</id><published>2009-10-20T18:28:00.012+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T22:52:15.853+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Castanhas-Magustos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A gula começa quando deixamos de ter fome. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;( Alphonse Daudet )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966469735683106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 34px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s400/flowerbar.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Durante o Verão, os castanheiros junto à capela do Sobral Magro, apresentavam-se carregados de ouriços, dando para antever um Outono fértil em castanhas. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Castanhas que cozidas, assadas, quentinhas fazem as delícias de todos os que gostam deste fruto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nos últimos dias que passei na aldeia, já se viam alguns ouriços caídos no chão e, um grupo mais animado resolveu fazer o primeiro magusto da época.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aqui ficam as fotografias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394745890569513202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/St38zgzk6PI/AAAAAAAAHGw/j721nfgL6k0/s400/P9230336.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394763568898112338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/St4M4htj-1I/AAAAAAAAHG4/5adNVxlGNIU/s400/P9240370.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394797395512471714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/St4rpfq5MKI/AAAAAAAAHHY/T5K6L64SUME/s400/Fotos-0042_5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394798742017322306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/St4s33yqrUI/AAAAAAAAHHg/UriP3hczZi4/s400/Fotos-0043_5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394799942481299298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/St4t9v3lR2I/AAAAAAAAHHo/OFVsCSHrLpo/s400/Fotos-0048_2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394800117452749106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 283px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/St4uH7sBuTI/AAAAAAAAHHw/ilVjORZ7wfI/s400/Fotos-0050a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-2160127714905877338?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/2160127714905877338/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=2160127714905877338' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/2160127714905877338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/2160127714905877338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/10/castanhas-magustos.html' title='Castanhas-Magustos'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s72-c/flowerbar.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-3674794572598731476</id><published>2009-10-19T20:17:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T22:50:15.525+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Medronhos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Além das aptidões e das qualidades herdadas, é a tradição que faz de nós aquilo que somos.&lt;br /&gt;( Albert Einstein )&lt;/em&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966469735683106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 34px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s400/flowerbar.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Sabemos que actualmente este tipo de bebidas só deve ser fabricada nas destilarias credenciadas, no entanto todos sabemos que aqui e além ainda há quem quem as produza de forma artesanal, para gasto próprio. Afinal tantas restrições só vão contribuir para a extinção dos nossos produtos artesanais tão apreciados por portugueses e estrangeiros. É o caso da aguardente de bagaço da região da serra do Açor, sobre a qual escrevi no meu último post. Para além desta, há outras qualidades de agurdente muito aprecidas nesta região, como são os casos da aguardente de medronho e da aguardente de mel.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ao longo da estrada que liga Pomares ao Sobral Magro, junto do Vale do Torno, podemos observar os medronheiros, uns que resistiram aos incêndios e outros que renasceram das cinzas. Há dias quando passei uns tempos no Sobral Magro, ainda pude observar os medronhos nas árvores, dando a entender que a aguardente de medronho já não se fabrica como antigamente.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394417768728955842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 308px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/StzSYTslC8I/AAAAAAAAHGk/3N7d7V7SLvE/s400/PA020429a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A proibição de se fazer aguardente nos alambiques artesanais , o envelhecimento e desertificação da região, vão fazer com que os frutos sequem nas árvores, em vez de estarem transformados em líquido dentro de garrafas e garrafões, nas adegas dos habitantes das aldeias serranas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SoXj7RP4epI/AAAAAAAAGjA/KyVvsIZp_sQ/s1600-h/P7210211.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-3674794572598731476?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/3674794572598731476/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=3674794572598731476' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/3674794572598731476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/3674794572598731476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/10/medronhos.html' title='Medronhos'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s72-c/flowerbar.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-419011352568406052</id><published>2009-10-16T00:07:00.009+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T23:22:57.763+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Vindimas III</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;O vinho que se bebe com medida jamais foi causa de dano algum.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Miguel Cervantes)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966469735683106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 34px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s400/flowerbar.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Depois de algum tempo de fermentação, o mosto já transformado em vinho (novo) é distribuído pelos pipos onde vai ficar até atingir o ponto ideal para se beber, o que acontece mais ou menos por altura do S. Martinho. Daí o ditado popular que nos diz: &lt;em&gt;"Em dia de S. Martinho, vai á adega e prova o vinho." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;O cardaço (bagaço das uvas) junta-se para levar para uma destilaria para fazer a aguardente de bagaço.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393251010398926898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/StitOCNYODI/AAAAAAAAHGM/0Zn6zRXS3RU/s400/Baga%C3%A7o.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;- O bagaço das uvas -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Antigamente, este trabalho era feito de forma artesanal em alambiques existentes nas aldeias. Todas as famílias faziam aguardente para uso doméstico e para dar aos amigos. Passavam dias e noites nos alambiques, colocando lenha na fogueira e controlando a intensidade do calor, mudando a água do tanque à medida que vai aquecendo, substituindo o bagaço, provando a aguardente,...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SoXj7RP4epI/AAAAAAAAGjA/KyVvsIZp_sQ/s1600-h/P7210211.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393301163878907922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/Stja1We0ABI/AAAAAAAAHGU/qlfqqyh9OO4/s400/Alambique+(2).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;- Um alambique artesanal -&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Era com essa aguardente que, muitas vezes, os homens &lt;em&gt;matavam o bicho&lt;/em&gt; logo de manhã, antes de começarem um árduo dia de trabalho, ou faziam os famosos &lt;em&gt;champorriões&lt;/em&gt; misturando-a com mel, com os quais tratavam uma constipação nos dias frios de Inverno.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Outros tempos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-419011352568406052?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/419011352568406052/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=419011352568406052' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/419011352568406052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/419011352568406052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/10/vindimas-iii.html' title='Vindimas III'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s72-c/flowerbar.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-39133843794354693</id><published>2009-10-15T21:03:00.009+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T00:05:15.612+01:00</updated><title type='text'>As Vindimas II</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Os vinhos são como os homens: com o tempo, os maus azedam e os bons apuram. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Cícero)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966469735683106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 34px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s400/flowerbar.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Depois dos pipos preparados, é chegada a altura de se cortarem as uvas. Antigamente este era um serviço trabalhoso, mas também muito alegre. As pessoas juntavam-se e ajudavam-se mutuamente. Sob um sol, por vezes escaldante, por entre conversa animada e alegres cantorias, o trabalho surdia mais e tornava-se menos duro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392946194193612722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 327px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SteX_ZW0f7I/AAAAAAAAHFI/w5Ye_qDM5cQ/s400/Vinho+(4)b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Cortando as uvas duma latada -&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As uvas eram colocadas em cestas e eram transportadas para as adegas e lagares. Actualmente já se usam também, alguidares ou baldes de plástico. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392487489720770098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 358px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/StX2zSCLXjI/AAAAAAAAHCA/FbPXZFC2d7c/s400/AcartarUvas+(6)a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;- Uvas transportadas em cestas -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392934060183068386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SteM9GpRHuI/AAAAAAAAHE4/mPa1KziXl8o/s400/ATeresa+(21).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;- Uvas transportadas em baldes de plástico reutilizados -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Nas adegas e lagares procedia-se à esmaga das uvas. Actualmente, este trabalho é realizado em esmagadores ou em prensas, onde são colocadas as uvas que depois são esmagadas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392934514790706530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 330px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SteNXkMLLWI/AAAAAAAAHFA/r7-5TYQXgZ4/s400/Esmagador+(2).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;- Um esmagador sobre uma dorna -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392933621961867154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SteMjmJMP5I/AAAAAAAAHEw/gzGJP84gGWg/s400/ATeresa+(26).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;- O vinho a sair, resultante da prensagem das uvas -&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Antigamente as uvas eram depositadas em dornas e em celhas onde os homens descalços, as pisavam até separarem o sumo (mosto) dos caules e casca dos bagos das uvas. Desta forma, era produzido vinho sem o tanino que se forma nos processos mecânicos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392963875015959570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SteoEjjXJBI/AAAAAAAAHFg/CTuu9wh7PSc/s400/Mexer+o+vinho.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;- Mexendo o mosto - &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Em qualquer dos casos, ficava tudo depois a fermentar durante mais ou menos 3 dias.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392962266667638066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/Stemm7_PXTI/AAAAAAAAHFY/UjOIWmVtVa8/s400/Dorna.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- A dorna após a pisa das uvas -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-39133843794354693?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/39133843794354693/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=39133843794354693' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/39133843794354693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/39133843794354693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/10/as-vindimas-ii.html' title='As Vindimas II'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s72-c/flowerbar.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-751654637647683867</id><published>2009-10-14T22:33:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T23:47:47.595+01:00</updated><title type='text'>As Vindimas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Até ao lavar dos cestos é vindima.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Ditado Popular)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966469735683106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 34px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s400/flowerbar.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Há muito que não passava férias na aldeia nesta época do ano. A pesar das atribulações em que me vi envolvida, ainda tive tempo de dar conta de algumas actividades agrícolas próprias o início do Outono. Era mesmo impossível passar ao lado de algumas delas. Pelas ruas o cheiro a mosto entrava-nos pelas narinas, lembrando-me os tempos de menina quando passava o tempo de férias no Sobral Magro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As próximas postagens vão ser dedicadas às vindimas e as fotos de hoje referem-se à lavagem dos pipos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392573832551656978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/StZFVGJO7hI/AAAAAAAAHCo/EyuOIozyR-c/s400/Pipos.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392577549089395794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/StZItbU4VFI/AAAAAAAAHC4/84rMR2Mg9eo/s400/ATeresa+(28).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;- O Fernando e o Mário lavam um pipo -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392577009986696098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/StZIODAx86I/AAAAAAAAHCw/k9kDng8NpFs/s400/ATeresa+(27).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;- O pipo está pronto para receber o vinho -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/StWxwUCr9wI/AAAAAAAAHBQ/casjVWQAjw8/s1600-h/Vinho.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SoXj7RP4epI/AAAAAAAAGjA/KyVvsIZp_sQ/s1600-h/P7210211.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-751654637647683867?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/751654637647683867/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=751654637647683867' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/751654637647683867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/751654637647683867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/10/as-vindimas.html' title='As Vindimas'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s72-c/flowerbar.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-4428323786291623438</id><published>2009-10-13T18:02:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T10:40:15.096+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Eleições Autárquicas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;O objecto principal da política é criar a amizade entre membros da cidade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Aristóteles)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966469735683106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 34px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s400/flowerbar.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Durante a minha permanência na aldeia, notou-se um movimento pouco usual nas povoações, normalmente quase desertas nesta altura do ano. Atravessávamos o período eleitoral para as autarquias. Não sendo grande adepta da política, acompanho os principais acontecimentos que se realizam no país, mantendo-me informada. Por isso, não me admirei nada com o aspecto diferente que nos apresentavam as principais aldeias e vilas da região. Cartazes dos diversos concorrentes e caravanas dos diversos partidos políticos encontravam-se frequentemente. No Sobral Magro estiveram presentes comitivas dos partidos que concorreram às eleições no passado Domingo no concelho de Arganil, que explicaram os seus programas eleitorais aos habitantes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A foto que se segue refere-se à representação do PSD, a única que observei &lt;em&gt;in loco&lt;/em&gt;, pois esteve no Sobral Magro à hora em que estive na Casa de Convívio a tomar a bica, após o almoço.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392209554348091298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/StT6BUFip6I/AAAAAAAAHAg/2A4GsbK-Bxw/s400/PA080461.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Por coincidência foi o partido que saiu vencedor na freguesia de Pomares e no Concelho de Arganil e aos quais endereço os meus Parabéns. Faço votos para que realizem um bom trabalho durante o mandato que têm pela frente, não defraudando todos os que neles depositaram a sua confiança e, que daqui a quatro anos estarão de novo nas urnas, para julgar o trabalho que desenvolverem durante esse período.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-4428323786291623438?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/4428323786291623438/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=4428323786291623438' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/4428323786291623438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/4428323786291623438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/10/eleicoes-autarquicas.html' title='Eleições Autárquicas'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s72-c/flowerbar.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-659943053343532755</id><published>2009-10-12T22:40:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T00:09:25.245+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Rally de Carros Antigos na Serra do Açor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mudar de preocupação faz-me tão bem como tirar férias.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(David Lloyd George)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966469735683106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 34px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s400/flowerbar.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Num dos dias em que tive que me deslocar a Oliveira do Hospital, foi com alguma surpresa que deparei com a estrada cortada e sem possibilidades de sair da aldeia. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Tentei saber a razão junto do guarda que se encontrava junto à estrada do Soito da Ruiva, que me informou que ia ali passar um rally de carros antigos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391854152912179410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 274px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/StO2yOkLkNI/AAAAAAAAHAQ/yht5209TqEI/s400/PA090485h.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Já que não podia sair da povoação fiquei a aguardar a passagem dos automóveis. Não sendo calhambeques, eram realmente carros já ultrapassados. No entanto, todos eles se deslocavam a grande velocidade se tivermos em conta o tipo de estradas da nossa região.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391843058739309922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/StOssdjP7WI/AAAAAAAAG_4/vbTAQ8RMm1s/s400/PA090477.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A competição era grande e assistimos a algumas ultrapassagens de veículos que ganharam tempo aos seus antecessores, durante o percurso que a vista alcançava. A prova prosseguiu até ao Piódão e realizou depois o mesmo percurso em sentido inverso.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391846273862595410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 280px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/StOvnm0X81I/AAAAAAAAHAA/Mo0cIiPy3rE/s400/PA090486a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Esta e outras provas desportivas, são também um bom meio de divulgar a nossa região. Apesar de me ter atrasado na minha ida a Oliveira do Hospital e de ter que percorrer um itinerário mais demorado, não dei o meu tempo por mal empregado, pois foi engraçado assistir a um desfile de veículos que no meu tempo de juventude eram o "último grito" da época.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391838608203917842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/StOopaA7KhI/AAAAAAAAG_w/mjnek-V7R8k/s400/PA090474.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-659943053343532755?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/659943053343532755/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=659943053343532755' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/659943053343532755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/659943053343532755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/10/rally-de-carros-antigos-na-serra-do.html' title='Rally de Carros Antigos na Serra do Açor'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s72-c/flowerbar.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-4170372445107377542</id><published>2009-10-11T18:33:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T22:03:09.437+01:00</updated><title type='text'>De Regresso</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Se todo o ano fosse de férias alegres, divertirmo-nos tornar-se-ia mais aborrecido do que trabalhar. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(William Shakespeare)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966469735683106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 34px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s400/flowerbar.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Após alguns dias na aldeia, regressámos hoje e aqui estou para partilhar com os amigos blogueiros os meus dias que eu pensava serem de férias, descansando e usufruindo plenamente da calma e tranquilidade que a nossa serra nos dá. Nada disso. Ainda não tínhamos passado por Santarém, já uma tia minha nos telefonava, avisando que o meu sogro se encontrava bastante doente.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Acelerámos e lá chegámos ao Porto Silvado. Chamado o médico o diagnóstico foi o esperado: bronco-pneumonia. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Entretanto, o meu pai que tinha obras em casa, precisava também da nossa ajuda para escolher materiais. A partir de então, foi uma correria entre o Porto Silvado e a farmácia de Avô, entre o Sobral Magro e as lojas de materiais de construção de Oliveira do Hospital e as costumeiras visitas à tia Leonilde residente no Lar de Coja.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Entretanto, a minha sogra ficou também com febre, o que não me admirou nada, tal o estado em que o marido se encontrava. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Neste momento, os doentes já estão bem e as obras decorrem em bom andamento. Espero agora que eu e principalmente o meu marido possamos passar alguns dias de repouso, aqui em casa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Espero também poder daqui para a frente passar a postar mais assiduamente como fazia antes do Verão. &lt;/div&gt;Para já, ficam algumas fotos dos locais por onde passei várias vezes nos últimos dias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391440026392088146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/StI-I5DsTlI/AAAAAAAAG_Y/XoPDHaYoPbE/s400/PA090538.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;- Foz da Moura -&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391439220843242546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 352px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/StI9aAJ4ZDI/AAAAAAAAG_Q/-JvsB7j95-s/s400/PA020410.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Avô -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391442338817296258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 291px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/StJAPfg0x4I/AAAAAAAAG_g/RfbaG3GGiU8/s400/IMG_3159.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Barril do Alva -&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391445884516817778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 289px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/StJDd4Rd23I/AAAAAAAAG_o/N5aOShPSicQ/s400/IMG_3161.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;- Coja -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SoXj7RP4epI/AAAAAAAAGjA/KyVvsIZp_sQ/s1600-h/P7210211.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São locais bem bonitos do concelho de Arganil, aos quais aconselho uma visita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-4170372445107377542?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/4170372445107377542/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=4170372445107377542' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/4170372445107377542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/4170372445107377542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/10/de-regresso.html' title='De Regresso'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s72-c/flowerbar.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8349817415835173467.post-4779871338938482887</id><published>2009-10-04T20:37:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T21:29:06.904+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Parabéns Pai</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Não há satisfação maior do que aquela que sentimos quando proporcionamos alegria aos outros.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(M. Taniguchi)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359966469735683106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 34px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s400/flowerbar.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estou neste momento no Sobral Magro e, neste dia, gostaria de partilhar com os meus amigos e visitantes a minha satisfação, pois o meu pai faz hoje 81 anos. &lt;/p&gt;Ei-lo na foto seguinte, na altura em que apagava as velas:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388844186975269762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SskFPJqW84I/AAAAAAAAG_I/Z8KyNC34L1I/s400/PA040433.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obrigada pela sua visita. Volte sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85733/lourdesmartinho/b0e89ec373cc31df9e6e4d844190c4ee.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8349817415835173467-4779871338938482887?l=oacor.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/feeds/4779871338938482887/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8349817415835173467&amp;postID=4779871338938482887' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/4779871338938482887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8349817415835173467/posts/default/4779871338938482887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oacor.blogspot.com/2009/10/parabens-pai.html' title='Parabéns Pai'/><author><name>M. Lourdes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06242332271053116760</uri><email>lourdesmartinho@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='15523070040718216837'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cwD_3UcJlQc/SmJtGxyZlCI/AAAAAAAAGAE/vnzQhYCP2lM/s72-c/flowerbar.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry></feed>