they may not mean to but they do.
they fill you with the faults they had
and add some extra, just for you.
- Philip Larkin
my last posts seem so dreary and really, not meaning to be. bollox to that and lets talk about life on the hill, this past week-end. what's really been happening. well. actually. been burning the candle at both ends, so to speak. consequently, am recovering and trying to remember it all. in sequence. you will detect, a vague alcoholic thread which weaves the week-end together.
my mother always said to me, the more you do the more you can do. she is absolutely right, of course.
friday afternoon: dabbled in some smart dressage moves until my horse went lame. very disappointed. evening, strolled over to neighbours in the twilight, admired the quite splendid views of the maasai steppes en route. sat on their verandah, sipping (actually more like guzzling, just in case friday was over in a blink) wickedly strong vodkas and paw paw juice and lots of ice. sitting outside, watching scorpio embrace the crescent moon. got very drunk in an hour and half and was in bed by nine. fast asleep. squiffy. possibly blogged. always a hazardous past time. blogging or emailing when drunk.
saturday: blogged? stared dazedly out at the white heat. attended kids birthday party at the worst time of day, 2 in the afternoon. when the world walks backwards it's so hot. stayed. only because there was free cold white wine and lashings of chocolate cake. oh and because i love m, and love to time in her pink kitchen, watching her artfully ice cakes (she has been voted The Best Cake Maker In The World), solving the world's problems (and b's) all at the same time. sped madly to Bonfire Night at school, (with about six kids in the car) listening loudly (vol. 10) to a song with the eff word in it. and i let the kids hang out the windows at the turn off. a wild sunset moving sunset, warm winds in our hair. laughing and being crazy.
the fireworks were so magnificent i wanted to cry.
sunday up at dawn to head to usa (pronounced oosa) river to watch polo. kenyans against tanzanzia. gideon moi was playing, as in daniel arap moi's son. kenya won. 12-9.
the sun was merciless so was forced to take refuge under an enormous fig tree a cote le pitch and hastily quaff back iced lemoned gin and tonics, as the horses thundered magnificently past. exhilirating stuff. so by the time we arrived at the russian classical guitar concert sunday evening, the kids and i were pooped. nevertheless onwards and upwards. pleas of "maaaaaaaaarm, do we HAVE to go? please? were responded with curt:
oh you'll LOVE it. you'll see. its good for you. stop complaining. OH STOP BLOODY WHINING WILL YOU???? DO YOU KNOW HOW LUCKY YOU ARE? and anyway, can't change plans at the last minute now, can we? armies would never win wars if they changed their plans at the last minute now would they? now come on.
the artist was pavel khlopovski. of course there were vodka shots before, with pate and caviar and little twinkly lights hung delicately around a lemon tree, the stars were just out and it was, magical. i felt perfect exactly where i was. admiring the lights and the stars and the people mingling.
the man is clearly a genius. he most certainly knows the flow state. it was the audience which drove me crazy. it was an audience from hell. cell phones ringing, (even when told to turn them off before the concert), unattended kids scraping chairs and playing games at the back of the hall, old men knocking over glasses, not once, but TWICE..oh on and on it went. it must have been like playing for The Flintstones...my son a prime example. he found me between J.S Bach's Preludium and H. Rodrigo's Invocation y danza, rolling his eyes, absolutely furious with me, saying through clenched teeth, "mum! THIS IS SOOOOOOOO BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORING!!!!" while i clenched my teeth and pretended to be oblivious to anyone else in the hall. of course, i am a perfect audience.
and then before i could say chililambombwe, my god, it was monday all over again. bollox to the wellingtons. monday and tea and biscuits. monday and back to school. monday and loving the kids all over again.
Kitchen Board: Monday Evening: 3 November 08:
Contributors: janelle, rubin, gabriella
Comments: crickets are singing in the house tonight. the resident rat is back. he'd better watch out for the cat. she's hungry and will take no prisoners. the wind is gentle , and the stars dusty. and well. isn't it a nice thought to think that, there is always someone, somewhere watching the stars. . . . .someone pulled something mega out the hat for me this week-end, and i very much suspect it was mr universe...
toodely pip and bisous XXX dusty star ones... all thoughts to the world as we wait for the results of the American elections.