those are not flowers...but feathers.
from arrows.the boys are taking a course in archery this week. their teacher is an ex judge from france called Monsieur Michel. who fell in love with an australian teacher in arusha. and who now imports frommages and du vin magnifique to these barren little backwater towns in afrique. as well as teaching everyone how to shoot an arrow or two... if he had been at the battle of argencourt perhaps the french would've stood a chance. lots of "mais c'est bien!" et "pas comme ca" et "zut alors!" et "chapeaux!" et "formidable!" one of the boys asked, "can i hit the rabbit now?" to which he replied " mais oui...eef you see eet..." my son was talking about the big lapin jaune target. he was talking about a real one which he has seen hopping unwittingly about the green field.
all the robin hoods of the neighbourhood are blatantly out and about around 9:30 every morning, in a little green field, in the middle of a coffee plantation, shooting arrows at various targets. orange frisbies. un lapin jaune. a "moving target" (box swinging in the wind), a gnarly old buffalo, a sack with pretty patterns on it and a man mowing the lawn. who was told that perhaps he should leave this task to later.
some people don't think it's a good idea to let kids learn any art of weaponry. i am not sure. all i know is that boys will be boys and Will Make Weapons. out of their bloody fingers. so why not let them learn properly...how to breathe. focus. stand. aim. shoot. sigh sigh. next week-end it's frigging paint balling...i will not be attending. i hate getting hurt. i always had an aversion to hockey.
so happy easter y'all.
bisous bisous bisous comme toujours....um, chocolate easter bunny ones.....? X.X.X.