Things with Wings

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.