Relief

The land sighs

heat rolls on incessantly

and she

stirs uncomfortably

under the weight

We groan in solidarity

achy joints and clammy

we grieve

a gritty wind

on our skin

Some time before dawn

the clouds that have

attempted this advance daily

finally carry enough

ballast to arrive

Surging over

incalescent turbulence

engaging

a rising wall

of sullen heat

They are here

Cool descends

with each drop

drumming on my roof

clearly melodic

songs of earth

Life stirs

a fever broken

some hundred thousand flying ants

rise sparkle-winged

bobbing in the new washed light

-lisa, 2 April, 2012

Bits and Pieces as the Rain Pours Down

The pounding of the rain against our windows is a beautiful thing. On Sunday morning I was walking with my friend, Tait, through the dry grass on the hills near her home. As we looked out from her verandah later (with the good smell of biscuits baking in the oven) we spoke our thanks that rain was on its way. The sky was giving it away and we were happy with anticipation.

Rain. Yes! We bless these rains and pray that they come in just the right measure. May they do all the good they need to do, and cause no destruction.

In other happy news, technology was working and on our side the other day. We can't always say that. We often have no electricity as the city rations power, and no electricity means no internet. Even when the power is back, the internet is often fickle. This happens for multiple reasons, most of which we are not privy to. However, spotty coverage at our house was recently traced to the fact that a neighbor burned down his hedge. His hedge is just below the cable that brings internet to us and it kind of melted here and there so it was moody about letting signals pass.

Back to the day that all systems were (mostly) go...

I got a text message from Colin that night as I was lying curled up on our bed under the mosquito net watching The West Wing on computer with Byron and Heather.

"Call me," it read. Colin (in Kenya) had just missed a call from Trevor (in San Francisco) and he didn't have a way to reach his brother and ask him to try again. He wanted me (in Tanzania) to let Trevor know he was now standing by for the call. But power had just gone off here so I wasn't on line either.

We brake for brother time so the DVD was paused as we went outside to pull-start our generator into action. Restoring power temporarily, we were able to get on-line and, lo and behold, Skype was in a good mood that evening as well so we raised Trevor pretty much immediately.

"Call your brother," I said, so pleased to be able to connect them.

We turned off the generator and went back to our laptop TV time while Trevor Skyped out from his computer to Colin's phone 10,000 miles away. They had a great talk and I grinned at the way we worked together to beat the TIA factor.

I'll round this post off with a great quote from home school today. Heather and I were talking about potatoes and how Columbus had no idea what a future they would have in Europe when he hauled the "new" food back from the New World. Basking in the glow of the goodness of potatoes, Heather gushed softly, "I love potatoes... greasy, fried, salty potatoes." I could see the warm appreciation of the humble spud shining in her eyes.

Life is good!

Post #323 (In Which I Rush Outside to See the Sun)

It's weird that I've rushed out of doors to greet the sun (since I live in Africa and all) but we've not had much of the beloved presence in the last couple of months.

(My apologies to those who live in places like Seattle and the UK where this run of clouds and rain would not warrant whining.)

The sun is here today and I hope it will last or at least make frequent appearances between showers. The rainy season usually sprinkles out by the end of May and I'm just politely encouraging it to move along now. "Get along, little dawgie."

Trevor has jumped on a shuttle for Nairobi so that he can meet Darrelle's plane at 6:30am tomorrow and escort her over the bumpy roads and through the (some times bewildering) border crossing.

Jesse should be on a shuttle from Nairobi this very minute. Their shuttles will pass on the way somewhere. I wish they would both be at the same rest stop at the same time. Wouldn't that be crazy? Hugging brothers at a tourist stop, destined to be pulled apart again quickly as they continue their journeys in opposite directions. It would be tragic except that will meet up at our place by Thursday afternoon.

Byron and Tammy are doing a day seminar with the Artisan ladies. They have some issues to work out with the new line of products our fair trade project is working on. There were some funny boo boos in the first batch of the new designs. Last year we introduced angels with cone shaped dresses. This year, we're using a similar cone shape but making Christmas trees. We had some trees come in, topped with stars as they should be, but with angel arms attached. Ha! I guess it's hard to imagine an angel or a Christmas tree if you have not grown up with many, many images of these things firmly planted in your mind.

Colin is trying his best to understand how to diagram sentences and I've just spent 20 minutes watching the lesson with him. I don't understand it ONE bit. I think diagraming sentences is a foolish waste of time. (Dana, I hope you can tell me I'm right about this.)

Heather is laid up on the sofa with a fever and sore throat. The Russell twins are doing home school with Val the Valiant Visitor at our dining room table.

And me? I am avoiding the grocery shopping and the general clean up, the emails I haven't answered and the deadlines I have for a couple of little writing things as I linger in the warmth of this good sunshine.

Enough pleasuring. Back to work now...

(PS I posted today on my Conversant Life blog about my response to the news from China.)

Foto4Friday

"Ok," Byron said as he looked out of the window this morning,
"I'm getting a little tired of the rainy season now."

Foto4Friday

Wondering in the Rain

We had epic rainfall this afternoon. I stayed snug on our porch, looking out and wondering at the big drops as they beat against the ground.

I wondered, too, what the tortoise who lives in our garden thought of it all. He seized the moment for a stroll up and down our driveway.

Waves of Rain

It's late and I need to climb into bed. The rain has started up, making me wonder what our safari day will be like as we take visitors to the game park tomorrow.

The rain here comes in waves. It starts and I hear it on the roof as a low, steady rumble. But then it build and builds and oh, great big waves of rain come crashing, roaring over the house.

It makes the house so wonderful, all cozy and safe like an ark.

The smell of the rain is something I can't describe. I have always wished I could taste that smell.