Well so much for my last idea of blogging about Emma. The whole deal with Emma is that I either have no time for blogging or am too tired to blog. Blerg!
At any rate - we are moving to Kenya. Or so it seems. The official letter still hasn't arrived but we have been proceeding as if it has. Until last week, we got to the point where we have done all that we can do to be ready. Boxes have started piling in the lounge, creating a throne from which Henry can observe us superciliously. Passports have been checked, and in the case of Emma, requested at the PO.
Just an aside here... how fabulous is this country that you can get your passport at the POST OFFICE! "Yes Ma'am, here is your document that opens up the whole wide world for you, will you be needing some stamps today?". No Home Affairs, and best of all, no surly, disgruntled Home Affairs employees. Postal workers are not famed for their cheerful dispositions but they make Eyore look more like Tigger when stood next to Home Affairs personnel.
Enough digression. We are stymied, stopped and halted and so many more words that I am not going to bother to type. Until that letter comes in the mail we cannot finish packing, book flights, find a house, or decide what is happening with the cats. I have been having nightmares about being in a car driven by someone else, about to crash while a tsunami slowly unfolds on the horizon.
Shoo. Just typing this is making me stressed. Good night
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