Thursday, May 19, 2011

devil moon...

(not my find. not my picture. found on

so it's that blissful time of year...the changing of the seasons....when winter sneaks in...all crisp and shiny. that's how african winters are. and the yellow flowers: deep blue skies in twilight and perfect hovering midnight blue butterflies delicate on yellow flowers. i love it. everything in me stirs accordingly. i eye the fireplace feeling sorry for the spiders all happily ensconced at the top of the chimney.....but not for long.

whoever said red was the colour of a heart or love? it's yella, i'm tellin' ya.

with this whimsical shift, come others. i've been told that i post too many pictures these days. that i write for an audience. that perhaps i should be writing a book instead. that perhaps i'm ignoring an audience. go figure. all said very kindly, you understand. and in many ways, i agree, naturally. but the truth is i don't feel good enough. i don't feel Wise enough, really. but then do you have to be Wise to Write a Book....? perhaps it's more to do with courage. i think you have to be courageous enough. and cut through all the bullshit. think of all the writers you love. their bare assed skeletal writing....those lines that you wished you'd thought of because they're so perfect?

i think you need a good enough story. a conglomeration of perfect ideas.

i love the idea of forgetting the kettle's on. i love it that it was a chore to walk outside, into the dark cold night, to feed the black dog, bella, and when i looked up, there the moon was. there was a reason behind the chore. something made me see the moon. all crooked and yella. and i felt very alone. which didn't matter either way. but i felt it. that's what matters, isn't it? and that's the truth.

sometimes i drink not to feel. ( and this isn't a postsecret situation.)

(or an unhappy one...or a lie.)

so if i post about frivolous things, that's ok too.

i want to eat pasta and cream and mushrooms.

and you.

Kitchen Board: Thursday 19 May 2011: Ngorobob Hill: (no TANESCO. generator pumping the power. )

oh and bestests, there is the biggest power failure in Tanzania to date....check it out...
hopeless situation all round....but onwards and upwards...just like that ole yella yeah.

toodely pip, y'all and keep on can't be too precious about these things... bisous X.X.X. sneaky winter ones, behind yer ears. x j

Thursday, May 12, 2011

marie antoinette's birthday...

(all photographs by annabelle thom. )

as one will logically conclude, she hopes with narrowed eyes, school has started, hence my sporadic writing. so there.
still. a LOT happened in between. since zanzibar, i mean.
and school starting.

arriving back on the ngorobob hill, in a suitably soporific dazed zanzibari state, i had to sort out, in due haste, a marie antoinette outfit for my friend's 40th birthday party. she was hosting it at the opulent Ngorongoro Crater Lodge. if you haven't heard of it, google's a sort of maasai meets versaille lodge perched on the edge of the world's largest caldera. read as Definitely Not Cheap. it was so incredibly gracious and entirely generous of my dear friend. and an apt surrounding for one as beautiful and as gorgeous as her kind self.

the view...
the bath tub ... and rose petals...(remember you are at an altitude of 7500 feet so its really baths with a view are a luxury)...

she expected us to all "make an effort". considering the effort she was making, it goes without saying that we should too...tales filtered down from nairobi that people were ordering theirs from Penny Winter. again. read as Not Cheap. sue smsd me from london "shall i get you an outfit and a wig? 195 quid?" i balked.

to find the appropriate outfit is harder than one thinks, in a town like don't have fancy dress shops. you could go, if you had the time and inclination, to mitumba, about which miranda and i have written ad nauseum (the 2nd hand clothes market) but this needs Time, a Diligent Creativeness,a Keen Eye and Patience, of which, at the time, i had none. not a jot.

i mused about going as a 1970's afro haired gangsta, toting an AK 47 and booga mina booga wena shades, a large joint and platform boots, the look rounded off with a jaunty swagger and a more than petulant demeanour, with the excuse that i had misread the invite. i could've stolen one of the golf carts and roared around Ngorongoro Crater Lodge firing shots into the air. i can relate to that sort of stuff...but marie antoinette...? all frou frou and feathers and bodices and hair and fuss...? good lord, jamais!

as luck would have it, i met T, our salubrious hair dresser, in town on her only day off. she has a Keen Eye for these sort of things and an effervescent enthusiasm. she whisked me into Jam Boutique, a sort of African Bridal Shop, packed to the hilt with sparkly ball dresses and brides maids outfits, the kind you might have seen on Dynasty or Dallas. as i was carefully peeling off a strawberry hued creation, all set about with silver streaks, T shouted "Oh My God! I have found IT!" indeed she had. i squeezed into a dusty pink and ivory affair, appliqued with shiny little beaded floral arrangements. "squeezed" being the operative word here. over a salad lunch we vowed not to put on an ounce more more pasta, booze, chocolate blah blah pills and well, water should do it? box remains unticked to date...more on this later if at all.

i envisaged tackling the Crater drive looking like one of the Simpsons, wind blown and dusty she hastens to add, paying my park fees with a blue lopsided very high wig....the park rangers knowingly ignoring me sort of sighing "mad mzungu..." needless to say, i never quite got round to procuring a wig at all and relied on my frizzy hair to do the job all on its own. what a to do it was. what FUN! and oh my. everyone made "an effort". my outfit managed, by some bizarre twist of fate, not to split and i ignored the little rolls of back fat. i couldn't see them so that was fine. out of sight out of mind. everyone was quite splendid.

madame de la roi...

the birthday gal...marie antoinette herself...waiting for her cake...

messieurs...rather dapper, i'd say...

musketeer and his masked madame...

la noblesse entiere...

and finally, the beautiful photographer herself, must see her website. makes beautiful bags and shoes in kenya and can sing opera in russian, chinese, cantonese and italian. with great gusto and aplomb naturally.

needless to say, a good time was had by all. so. happy birthday nibs! she is presently walking from the Victoria Falls to Namibia, via the Caprivi Strip, a wild wild strip of land, guiding some paraplegics....not for the faint hearted.

oops. no time for kitchen board today....dinner to prepare....guests arriving in less than two hours...toodely toot y'all and bisous X.X.X. french ones, obviously x. j.