Fourteen
1. Tired from too many night wakings, I slept in for a couple of extra hours this bright morning, rising when the sun and the calls of my children refused to let me lay abed any longer.
2. We walked for a long time today and the kids skidded over rocks and up hills and picked up a baby goat. Mountains were brilliant in the distance.
3. One time, nine years ago, Chinua and I were lost in a valley and spend eight hours trying to reorient ourselves. Today we revisited the spot and we had four children with us, miracle of miracles. We gave each other smitten looks, retold the story, remembered the thorns that we fought our way through, trying to be found again. Remembered the tiny jeep that took us home, Chinua's knee not quite fitting and switching off the headlights repeatedly, always right as we would take a wild corner in the dark. It could only be called careening. The adventure continues.
4. I love the potatoes here.
5. There are these sweet moments when I am not only tired, and not irritated, and I realize just how blessed I am with these children and their endless enthusiasm, the way we spend time at a small and bare-bones playground and they find 101 ways to propel themselves up and down a slide. We eat falafel and drink chai and meet people and pose for pictures with Indian tourists. I come up with a new reality TV show idea which is based on the wild fashion of one tourist attraction street here. Tibetan fashion, pop Indian fashion, Sikh gangster style, the many ways one can sport a scarf, the hippies, the monks, the simple grace of fabric. I am thankful.
2. We walked for a long time today and the kids skidded over rocks and up hills and picked up a baby goat. Mountains were brilliant in the distance.
3. One time, nine years ago, Chinua and I were lost in a valley and spend eight hours trying to reorient ourselves. Today we revisited the spot and we had four children with us, miracle of miracles. We gave each other smitten looks, retold the story, remembered the thorns that we fought our way through, trying to be found again. Remembered the tiny jeep that took us home, Chinua's knee not quite fitting and switching off the headlights repeatedly, always right as we would take a wild corner in the dark. It could only be called careening. The adventure continues.
4. I love the potatoes here.
5. There are these sweet moments when I am not only tired, and not irritated, and I realize just how blessed I am with these children and their endless enthusiasm, the way we spend time at a small and bare-bones playground and they find 101 ways to propel themselves up and down a slide. We eat falafel and drink chai and meet people and pose for pictures with Indian tourists. I come up with a new reality TV show idea which is based on the wild fashion of one tourist attraction street here. Tibetan fashion, pop Indian fashion, Sikh gangster style, the many ways one can sport a scarf, the hippies, the monks, the simple grace of fabric. I am thankful.