I know you have all been on the edge of
your seats, eagerly anticipating news of our involvement in some
dramatic African adventure. Life threatening illness? Threatened at
machete-point? Going for days eating nothing but grubs? I apologize
that so far we haven't been able to deliver such entertainment.
The last few days, however, things have
been a little more interesting around here. The puking started,
predictably after I had mentioned to several people how pleasantly
surprised I was at our health so far. Let me tell you—it's not
until the vomit hits the floor that you realize how thankful you are
that it's bare cement. So there was that.
I think it was the next night—or
maybe two nights later, that we came back to our house at bedtime and
were greeted by literally thousands of winged termites covering the
front porch light, doorway, and the entire kitchen walls, floor, and
ceiling. Eva had been the last one out, we later remembered, leaving
the lights on and the doors open. The combat that ensued was not
pretty. This was a moment of profound relief that we have no
electricity (thus no lights were left on) in our sleeping area.
Despite the absence of skittery legs and fluttering wings in her
bedroom, Eika lay frozen in terror for hours before falling asleep
and will probably need shock therapy to fully recover. Eva, on the
other hand, blithely went to and fro smacking like crazy and sweeping
up wings by the dustpan-full.
So. While it would make a better story
had we been forced to eat the
termites to survive, I cannot lie. We had granola for breakfast,
Texas rice and scrumptious guacamole for lunch, and an Easter potluck
table overflowing with bountiful variety last night for dinner.
There was even *gasp* Jell-O.
