whew. what a few days its been. its monday and i am exhausted before the week has begun. all self inflicted, you understand.
i have a problem. i love to be wrecked and joyous.
m's silver birthday party was outstanding fun. lashings of champagne and inspirational company. i, of course, was the only one in silver because it wasn't, in fact, a silver party. i must have just made that up. somehow. someone walked in and said, "oh. no-one told me it was retro?"
anyhow - the great thing about m's party was that it is so close to home. a little drive through the mealie (maize) fields, through mr popa's flower fields and bingo you're there. at three in the morning, its a synch of a drive home. only the stars to follow and one light upon a hill. the trick is to stay on the muddy track and avoid squashing hedgehogs, genets, owls and such things.
from my window its a green patchwork world below. the rains are easing up and the stars appear to be closer than ever...a clean sky, clean air. the mountains are magnified. and my heart feels so full. the yellow flowers of may - wild flowers everywhere. blue denim washed skies. ah.
last night the Russian Ballet came to town!! in all its glory, passion, magnificence! this was an extraordinary event. what a treat. we all agreed that should they have played for three nights in a row we would have watched them all three nights. so beautiful. so glorious.
i went to sleep dreaming of sparkling twirling tutus and tight arses.
needless to say, after M's party, i had the most hideous of all hangovers and was accordingly punished by having to attend a french child's birthday party for the entire afternoon. i felt sick. i felt like a hyena had pooed in my head. my only comfort was a Dorothy Parker poetry book. i decided to share some of her poems with my fellow French mothers.
Unfortunate Coincidence by Dorothy Parker.
By the time you swear you' re his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Lady, make a note of this:
one of you is lying.
i was not entirely sure that they "got" DP. nevertheless.
and a sadness too. the father from one of the villages at the bottom of the hill died this last week. leaving a family destitute and struggling. its been said it was from too much pombe (local beer) - sometimes made from battery acid - but i am unsure of the cause. D borrowed the pick up to go and collect the body on sunday to bring him back to the village for burial. he said there were a few moments of dark humour - decorating the coffin, relief that clothes would not have to be found because the body had a shuka (maasai cloth which men wear - red, purple. very roman). i found one purple bougainvilleae in the back of the truck this morning...en route to town. i also noted two dead hedgehogs on the road near to the village...C said " well no guesses what those two were up to when they were hit...." to be honest, i still don't think it was that clear. they might have been coming back from dinner or something....
town! ah town. the traffic was heinous. worse than usual. the bridge past the police station is being repaired so there is mega congestion. i u turned and headed out of town pronto back up our hill - where the wind blows, where the wild flowers grow, where my horses walk happy and the pastures are green and life is sweet. so sweet.
and its a brand new week. i can do the rest of the shopping tommorrow. or the next day. or whenever.