Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
Sunday, January 18, 2009
dedicated to reya: http://thegoldpuppy.blogspot.com/ (not because she's an airhead, you understand...) because of the genre of the photograph...duh.
Oh Rain Wizards! at present i am weather obsessed, as it turns out....this comes from being a farmer's daughter.
yes! you are indeed Rain Wizards. we have had a teeny weeny sprinkling of rain...(like 5 mls in total - although today is burning white again and my eyes scan the mountain tops searching for cloud build up...) so don't stop whatever it is you are doing. of course, you are entirely responsible for this latest change in weather. nothing at all to do with moon phases or the fact that a low pressure drifted past or the time of year or anything like that. i know it. it all happens out on the blogosphere. let's not underestimate the power of thought and intention. i simply KNOW that you have been dancing those rain dances continuously since we last spoke. that my weather predicament is completely central to your radar screen... and that you are totally responsible for this latest sprinkle...yes. perhaps, there might be a low pressure passing through, but only because you've wished it so.
whoever believed the weather man anyway?
loons. the lot of them.
Kitchen Board: Sunday Night: 18 January 2009:
Contributors: Veronica, and Danu P (sneaky!)... just say no to nintendo DS whatevers...NO!
Comments: another Big Shopping Day . oh and BREAKING NEWS: i have been asked by Very Clever People At School to teach an A Level Literature course...ME? me? are you SURE? apparently they are. they said, of course! you've read Jane Eyre, haven't you? me (nodding head way too vigorously, which should've alerted them immediately: oh yes yes! (actually NOT is the case) hence the reason a cop out blog tonight because i make haste back to charlotte bronte's extraordinary book which, by the by, i am loving and adoring. i mean, these days, no-one uses expressions like "i was loaded with general opprobrium" and sweet phrases like "she blunderingly confessed" and "The sleepers were all aroused: ejaculations, terrified murmurs sounded in every room..." and "ladies keep off or I shall wax dangerous..."
alas. i must make haste while the night lasts. monday looms and i'm only half way through. page 206 to be exact. aiming for page 447 before dawn. do you think i'll make it? it's a fat book with the minutist tiniest print you have ever seen. away with me. i must desist from this constant confabulation....
so toodely pip, oh best beloveds, bisous - slightly rain fragranced ones xxx j
and keep up the rain dances please. thanks ever so much. x
ps: it's the next day. and i never made it to page 447, damnit....
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
the air has a pink tinge from all the dust.
the acacia are rudely bursting out with yellow poms poms. it's disgraceful.
none of this floral flourish has anything remotely to do with me. obviously.
did you know that if you shake those fat bulbs on the whistling thorn a myriad of biting ants swarms out of the holes? and when the wind blows, it makes a whistling noise?
never heard it myself, if must be said. and i'm not known as Jan The Bush Girl for nothing, you know.
but i've seen the ants.
oh yes.i almost forgot to tell you. about The Main Reason, oh best beloveds, i have been too busy to blog.
of course i've been riding under the full moon this week. like i said i would.
for two nights in a row. in fact.
the first night was very elegant and planned. dressed in flowing white on a white horse. jingling silver, twisting moon beams.
and sober. and proper. and you know, It.
the next night i was in black, touting spanish leather boots. bareback. on a spotty horse. and sometimes hardly on a spotty horse. and a lot of the time half way down a spotty horse. but oh how we laughed. and felt like kings. of ngorobob. rather.
and, hic, high.
as the moon.
in fact, these days, it's the best time to be out and about the ngorobobs.
oh toodely pip lovely you. and bisous, prickly ones. ow. xxx j
Saturday, January 10, 2009
safari craig has left for america. for an entire sixteen days.
and the house is quiet. and there is a large gaping gap. and we're all pretending we aren't sad.
and it's sunday. another hot hot white day, no rain in sight; heat, flies and dust. the heat is relentless. the land is brown, crackly and dry. baked.
and the children are addicted to pokamon cards.
sundays are never usually my favourite day anyway. because mondays the next. but in this case it would've been The Best Sunday Ever, because tommorrow is another public holiday. zanzibar revolution day. when the african shirazi party (ASP) drove the arabs (zanzibar national party ZNP) into the sea, literally, in the early 1960's. another little genocide in africa. an ethnic cleansing. another interesting political historic story. a revolution, i am lead to believe, encouraged by the departing colonials. but i suspect they didn't think it would turn out quite so badly. beautiful unguja beaches and seas, littered with floating bodies. another shameful colonial blip.
safari craig is apparently headed into a Deep Freeze. not the kind you have in your kitchen. the kind which freezes everything around you. i know he isn't prepared for it.
so instead of sitting mournfully on the hill, we shall go swimming. we shall eat pizzas. and come back later when the sun is setting and the moon is rising and the hot whiteness has dipped below the western hills.
and i shall ride my horse under the full moon.
and then its only fifteen days left...
the house is so quiet.
Kitchen Board: White Hot Sunday Morning:
Comments: i have heard there is a cyclone off dar es salaam....maybe it will rain soon.
toodely pip then. and bisous, sad good bye ones...xxx j
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
oh i forgot to tell you. guess who i saw on the beach in december? you'll never guess. in her famous blue dressing gown? the queen! on pangani beach. saluting me. with her african corgi. we had a corgi when we were little, growing up in choma, called mango. he died by jumping out of our fast moving peugeot 404 (the one with the pointy lights). he looked more proper than this queen's pangani corgi. we buried him amongst the tobacco. and it made us extemely sad, if i rightly recall...
we were sailing off to maziwi sand island early one morning. and i turned around and there she was. beautiful, wonderfully funny, elegant gill. but she was standing just like the queen, i thought. on an early pangani morning with her guard. here she is laughing.
and i never told you about yves. dear yves. who fell in love with gabriella. he's 60 something. she's 5. he grew up in madagascar then travelled the world. and lived in places like yemen, istanbul, mombasa and now paris. his wife left him because, as he said " zut alors, she just couldn't get used to my geepsee life..." he loves chilli. just like me. he likes to practise his english:
i am zare. ova zare. in zee aberdares.
he has a son called guillaume. who is an outstanding photo journalist. you should look at his pictures at http://www.thinkpictures.org/guillaume/index.php (guillaume bonn) he eventually joined us at the beach. after been stranded in mauritania. then kenya airways got him to accra. stranded him again. due to "technical" problems. got him to nairobi too late to catch his connecting flight to kilimanjaro. so he flew to dar es salaam instead. next day he caught a taxi to tanga. then a motorbike to pangani. when he reached there, the ferry was no longer working. so a boat across the river. then to us. waiting for him. waiting for christmas amongst the coconut palm forests. i caught yves and guillaume sitting silently watching the still lilac sea on christmas eve.
isn't life a One eh? remember i was just telling you about my perfect dreamed up life? in last post. the one about riding across these great dusty plains - living my dream life - only interrupted by perfect movie like exchanges with maasai children....who call me janelli and mzungu. well. life has a knack to keep you on your toes. yesterday, there we were, tati, my beautiful italian crazy inspirational riding buddy, clip clopping past mr popadopalis's flower farm, mt meru towering in the east, the sun in our eyes - and there not too far ahead was a person. not a child. not an adult. a medium sized person, standing very steadfastedly in our tracks with his hand in "STOP!" position. as we approached, his "gang" of much smaller people, surrounding him, all shouted at us "wapi hela?? wapi hela?? " where's the money?! where's the money?! as we drew nearer, with sinking hearts, we saw rocks held neatly in each hand. there were about twenty herd boys. which makes about 40 small rocks. 40 small rocks ready to throw at what could only be us. on our still very calm horses. so i asked the leader what his name was. he shouted back angrily: "Kijana!" which means young person. " where are you from kijana?" i continued, calmly. " Mjini!" "Town!" he retorted, quickly followed by give me your money. well. i didn't have any. and even if i had, like hell he would've been a recipient of even one shilling. his eyes were wild. if he had had a weapon he would've undoubtedly used it. there was only one thing for it and that was to get the hell out of there and fast. so away we galloped. as we shot off we were pelted with stones and insults. all of which missed us...but hit the horses rumps...
i think i shall take another route next time. there are too many wars in the world already.
for some bizarre reason, all of this has lead me back to nick drake. and music and song dedications. i play a game called Witchy Moments. you can only play if you have an iPod. you close your eyes and you spin the dial and hit play. and whatever song plays, listen carefully to the words because they are what you need to hear.... and nick drake's song Black Eyed Dog came up.
a black eyed dog he called at my door
a black eyed dog he called for more
a black eyed dog he knew my name
a black eyed dog he knew my name
a black eyed dog
a black eyed dog
growing old and i wanna go home
growing old and i don't wanna know
growing old and i wanna go home.
and then some hellova smart guitaring.
yeah. nick drake took me racing back to the green sugar cane fields of zululand. peugeots again. my brother in law, called buzz, with the fat orange tom cat in a sack in the boot....
never take a dedication lightly.
join these dots and i'll send you a prize....
Kitchen Board: Tuesday 6 Jan 2009 - the year of shine
Special Note: so The Kitchen Board Stays, by popular vote. hoorah.
Contributors: Veronica. Janelle
Comments: fancy arrow has an eye infection. and, i have started school again...and and and....i am taking on shakespeare single handedly. and rudyard kipling. whoa.
so toooooooooooodely pip, Oh Best Beloveds, and bien sur, bisous, comme toujours, elizabethan ones, you know, queeny ones - hooah. xx j
Friday, January 2, 2009
thinking of ditching the kitchen board for 2009. what do you think? not sure...
well, tooooooooooodely old pip then, and bisous, toujours xxx j