this cowgirl is back on her horse.
she has remembered how joyous it is to trot and canter across the black cotton plains, with donkeys following her, the shrill greetings from the maasai women telling her to go faster and faster, the warm wind in her hair and the smell of horse. and gun powder. (ok. scratch that one out. but just pretend, ok?) yes. she has remembered this.
oh my. how simply sweet and beautiful life can be.
right. back to real life.
i have been a taxi mom the entire week-end. and it's not over yet. when one makes these sort of committments, it's best done with music in your ears so you can't hear the " that's my place" "give it back!" "thump!" "waah". every now and then you have to do a blind swipe into the back seat hoping to connect with anyone really. they're all involved you see. if this doesn't work then you have to actually unplug, stop the car, turn round and shout "WILL YOU ALL JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP! christ." this used to work. now everyone just stares back blandly and sort of mumbles "ag sorry ma." and we carry on.
so, this week-end first born is with the christians. i think he has actually gone to church this morning. i hope he knows what to do and behaves appropriately. i know the others don't.first born RHS.
second born is with the rwandans down in njiro. miles the other side of town. both parents were in hotel mille collines during the genocide, hiding from massacre and managed to escape to belgium. second born is best friends with their son. i received an sms from the dad a few minutes ago saying "Morning. They want to continue to play. Your son is very kind. Nice day. Francois." oh how my heart swells.
third born went to a hindu princess party. in full regalia. smelling of pink icing, channel no. 19, nylon, dust pink marshmellows, stiff lace and all things sugary and sweet. of course i couldn't find the house. was forced to unplug and grouch "but you've been here before!? obviously you have NO idea...sigh sigh...." until niamh spotted the gardener hanging three pretty white balloons on a gate. third born returned home all sticky and high on sugar. then passed out on the couch, dreaming hindu princess dreams, while i drank wine with my spaghetti thing riding pal, tati, and spoke of love and other such things.
driving home yesterday, plugged into transporting music (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dcjec7WZ41s&feature=related . this should make you want to cry and cover you with goosies. if it doesn't then there has to be something wrong with you.) , i thought what a wonderful thing it is for the children to be so culturally at ease - how good it is that their world is so varied and extraordinary. even if it means i have to take on hour long traffic jams in the process. the music suspends you above the jam. above the world. stops you from throwing The Finger left right and center. stops you from shouting " you stupid *()&^%$ ^$&*!" and other similar pleasantries. music makes me think of things more pertinent. when you're plugged into music, the crazy mad world around you melts into a movie. and everything is fine. just fine. just.
sunday bakes outside my window. shimmering and hazy with the rain from yesterday. cicadas swallows wild flowers. a smudgy world full of potential, of things unspoken and undone. sometimes i think i can hear the grass growing. in the early hours of the morning. when the owl sits on my roof hooting in a rainy grey dawn. i hear him scratching on the tin roof. i love it that he is my alarm clock. i think it magical. most people around here don't. if an owl sits on your roof, with the alarming regularity that this ones does, it means someone in the house will die. nice.
it's sunday. and summer. and my heart is full and overflowing. unusually so, all things considered. it being sunday and all and my regular owl visitor.
full heart box to be ticked at 6 this evening.
so toodely bestest blogging babies. bisous X . X. X. hot sunday summer ones x j