Feed items

The girl and the boy went to visit friends one day. Nothing says “We’re together” than to take “Us” on a visit. They were served some Ugandan tea. It tasted good.
Says the boy to the girl: “You see, that is how tea is made. When are you going to make tea like that?”
The hosts laughed politely – hoping to turn the accusation into a joke. The boy laughed loudest of all, deciding to chew, swallow and digest the foot he had just stuck in his mouth. No one noticed that the girl did not look up as she smiled sadly.
That girl grew up and found out she was good at making tea. She was good at making money, too. She married a boy; another boy. She had not yet realised this boy could not cure the hurt and emptiness inside her. The empty spaces people should have filled with love and acceptance. The empty spaces that were labelled ‘Affirmation’ and ‘Compliments’. This boy could not possibly fill up what others had left empty.

There’s a breeze that blows through the compound and the house almost constantly. The walls are bluey-green; the curtains blue, the chairs green. The loo is a comfy cocoon – no one can hear me when I go. I get performance anxiety if I think I am not alone, you see.
It is far from complete, yet it is finished in many ways. I have not been here a week, but it already feels like home. If home is where the heart is, then I carry my home-ability with me anyway.
I can already see where the Christmas tree will go, even if I have no idea about the curtains.
As I idly wash some tea cups, I look out the kitchen window and see a piece of my past and a sign for my future. There is a jambula tree in the back yard. Purply and brown and bright green and speaking, nay, singing to my soul.
This will be my house, and we will live here.
Dedz:
It’s my House – Diana Ross (what else, really?)

I have gravely neglected my blog. My apologies to it. I have been very very neglectful in giving updates on Boy Wonder. He turned 5 earlier this month and got to do one new thing and to sit on a Police motorbike. He was thrilled and I was beyond proud and happy. It was a glorious first for me – a family outing in our family transportation.
He was also the naughtiest boy in his class for the first half of the term, telling any teacher who threatened him that he was going to report them to his mummy. I found a few unamused teachers waiting to see what exactly Petesmama is packing that makes her so frightening. Unfortunately for Peter, he forgot that Mummy has a strong pimp hand and his Granny has an even stronger one. Suffice to say there is no more nonsense at school.

2010 came. It sucked. It dragged. It sped by. It rocked! And now here I am at the end of January (already!) of 2011. We were so worried about the elections, but it seems this season will pass uneventfully, thank God. I pray the actual election process goes by as quietly.
My Boy Wonder has grown – oh how he has grown! He is such a fine fellow; so polite, so musical, so inquisitive, so beautiful, so blessed and so clever. And the little man loves his mummy. I can ask for nothing more – except perhaps the grace to be the best possible mother to my gift.
For 2011 I finally have a plan; which is basically to stay right where I am with a few minor adjustments. God willing these adjustments will come to pass sooner rather than later.