She is just a walking fool! Last Monday she decided it was time and suddenly released her grip on the table, chairs and bath and struck out into the spaces of the house. We were so thrilled and watched her with tears in our eyes. True to her social form, she walked mostly towards people, giving the Mpala folk as much of a thrill as she did us.
On Tuesday and the rest of the week she changed her mind and decided crawling was easier. On the weekend she gave it another go and has really taken to it. She walks most places and has found that it is most convenient when you need to carry things. It is so convenient that she is carrying around hilarious items, like the trash can and laundry basket, both of which are far too large for her.
Her walk is a little shuffle, where each knee bends awkwardly and the foot crashes to the floor to be dragged a little ways. It sounds like we have a very tiny zombie careening around the house. She has little control so sort of aims herself in the direction she wants to go and gets faster and faster as she goes along 'til she falls against the couch, your legs etc. I think her right leg is stronger than her left as she tends to pivot on that leg and so quite often just wonders in circles around a room. We managed to post a couple of very short videos on the picasa site - if you don't have the link, email me.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Monty Python was wrong
My Mother's shower in Namibia is the kind that makes you sing. Volubly and for the entire glorious time it takes you to get clean. I sang "gone fishing", "cheek to cheek", "morning has broken" and a favourite - "the bright side of life". It is HOT, there is pressure, the light shines in through the window, and the towels are fluffy and dry.
There was nothing to sing about in this evening's shower. It was the opposite of a singing kind of shower. It was a shower in which songs run down the drain and into Grevy Houses' septic field, never to be heard again. You won't even be able to find their lyrics on Google.
The water trickles, nay, it oozes from the nozzle. It is lukewarm, not cold so that you can complain with pride about having a cold shower. The parts of your body which stick out of the water (ie: most parts) are vulnerable to dive bombing and large mosquitoes. The water is weak-tea coloured, leaving you in doubt as to whether you are actually getting clean. The last and final insult is that here is another country where towels do not dry from day to day, but instead are clammy to the frail and beaten and bitten skin.
There is no bright side of life to this shower. Monty Python should go take a hike.
There was nothing to sing about in this evening's shower. It was the opposite of a singing kind of shower. It was a shower in which songs run down the drain and into Grevy Houses' septic field, never to be heard again. You won't even be able to find their lyrics on Google.
The water trickles, nay, it oozes from the nozzle. It is lukewarm, not cold so that you can complain with pride about having a cold shower. The parts of your body which stick out of the water (ie: most parts) are vulnerable to dive bombing and large mosquitoes. The water is weak-tea coloured, leaving you in doubt as to whether you are actually getting clean. The last and final insult is that here is another country where towels do not dry from day to day, but instead are clammy to the frail and beaten and bitten skin.
There is no bright side of life to this shower. Monty Python should go take a hike.
Ups and Downs
Mpala has given me a pavlovian response that is interesting to note. Sitting at the computer this evening I heard the crack of branches outside. I sprang up and raced from window to window trying to see the elephant. Usually the sound of cracking branches means that somewhere there is an elly browsing. Today it was the sound of the Askari building the fire for our donkey boiler so that we could get hot water. I was momentarily saddened that there was no elephant but quickly bouyed by the idea of a hot shower soon to come!
Friday, November 12, 2010
The Ordinary amidst the Extraordinary
Elephants visited us again this evening. This time early enough for Emma to be awake and see them. They moved in from the ring road and munched their way around the house, feeding on trees, grasses and our last houseplant - evicted from the house for being a spider hider.
The Elephants had no fear of being close to the house and we could see them really clearly, so clearly that I was afraid they could see us inside the house and would get upset, but luckily they did not seem bothered by us.
After watching them for about 20 minutes Emma became bored and it was getting to the time of evening where she is irritable and almost ready for bed. I realised I was going to have to bath her. It seemed strange and irreverent to do such a mundane activity as a bath when the house was surrounded by at least 25 elephants. She splished and splashed happily oblivious to my ponderings and discomfort. It was also disconcerting to put the lights on so that she could have her ten minutes of quiet play and reading before bed. Turning on the lights made us visible and the Elephants out in the darkening dusk hidden amongst the bushes.
Emma nursed and then I swung her to sleep in my arms, humming Hobo's lullabye and listening carefully to the swish and crunch of grass being torn up and eaten just outside the bedroom window.
The evening and the visit ended with K and I playing a game of speed scrabble at the dining table, tete-a-tete, while listening uneasily to a tummy, a very large tummy, rumbling somewhere outside and close by.
The Elephants had no fear of being close to the house and we could see them really clearly, so clearly that I was afraid they could see us inside the house and would get upset, but luckily they did not seem bothered by us.
After watching them for about 20 minutes Emma became bored and it was getting to the time of evening where she is irritable and almost ready for bed. I realised I was going to have to bath her. It seemed strange and irreverent to do such a mundane activity as a bath when the house was surrounded by at least 25 elephants. She splished and splashed happily oblivious to my ponderings and discomfort. It was also disconcerting to put the lights on so that she could have her ten minutes of quiet play and reading before bed. Turning on the lights made us visible and the Elephants out in the darkening dusk hidden amongst the bushes.
Emma nursed and then I swung her to sleep in my arms, humming Hobo's lullabye and listening carefully to the swish and crunch of grass being torn up and eaten just outside the bedroom window.
The evening and the visit ended with K and I playing a game of speed scrabble at the dining table, tete-a-tete, while listening uneasily to a tummy, a very large tummy, rumbling somewhere outside and close by.
Sunday, November 07, 2010
New Friends
Each day towards the evening our new friends arrive at the house. Mostly they sit in the tree and look sideways at us but occasionally they come closer.
The most friendly is a chap I have named Deckens as he is a Von Der Deckens Hornbill. He is the one who taps on the windows at ungodly hours. Although recently Emma has claimed all the ungodly hours for herself and 6am is considered a lie in. Deckens has a wifey who I have uninspiringly named Vonder. He also has two buddies and their wives who all hang around in the trees being hopeful. I have been rewarding their hopefulness with handfuls of muesli but they are too shy to come and get it off the porch and they wait until Em and I have retreated indoors.
Of course the problem with Deckens and his entourage is that Spiro is taking inspiration from him. Yesterday while we sat having lunch admiring our partially completed fence he came along with two pals and ventured with his backup onto the porch, clearly hopeful of crumbs. I had a stack of stones handy though and quickly sent them packing. This week it will be my mission to trap Spiro and transport him elsewhere before he teaches bad manners to all the local squirrels. I do feel twinges of guilt about this as, yes he is quite cute and also it was another human who taught him his bad manners but it must be done before he climbs inside anyone else's pants.
In the vein of new friends, we have taught some of the Mpala permanent researchers how to play scat, and I think they are addicted already. This bodes well for the long evenings that we have left in Kenya.
The most friendly is a chap I have named Deckens as he is a Von Der Deckens Hornbill. He is the one who taps on the windows at ungodly hours. Although recently Emma has claimed all the ungodly hours for herself and 6am is considered a lie in. Deckens has a wifey who I have uninspiringly named Vonder. He also has two buddies and their wives who all hang around in the trees being hopeful. I have been rewarding their hopefulness with handfuls of muesli but they are too shy to come and get it off the porch and they wait until Em and I have retreated indoors.
Of course the problem with Deckens and his entourage is that Spiro is taking inspiration from him. Yesterday while we sat having lunch admiring our partially completed fence he came along with two pals and ventured with his backup onto the porch, clearly hopeful of crumbs. I had a stack of stones handy though and quickly sent them packing. This week it will be my mission to trap Spiro and transport him elsewhere before he teaches bad manners to all the local squirrels. I do feel twinges of guilt about this as, yes he is quite cute and also it was another human who taught him his bad manners but it must be done before he climbs inside anyone else's pants.
In the vein of new friends, we have taught some of the Mpala permanent researchers how to play scat, and I think they are addicted already. This bodes well for the long evenings that we have left in Kenya.
Emma update
Man she is adorable! I know I am biased but seriously, there is nothing else this cute! Even the baby elephant that came through last week is not this cute.
She is cutting two new teeth, soon she will be sporting four on the bottom instead of two. The left one has broken through and about a quarter of it is showing. Emma's favourite toy is once again the crochet hook and the drool runs down it while she chews on it and pulls the hook part against her gum.
Most exciting is how hard she is working on walking. She took two steps from the bath to the sink on her own during the week and K and I were thrilled and held our breath while she did it. Then today she took three steps, falteringly from a chair into open space but fell down. She did try again later and again fell down but I really think it won't be long now 'til she is motoring around on her own. Thankfully, they are in the process of building a fence around our porch so we will be able to spend more time safely outside in the cool air looking at all the birds (and squirrels).
She is cutting two new teeth, soon she will be sporting four on the bottom instead of two. The left one has broken through and about a quarter of it is showing. Emma's favourite toy is once again the crochet hook and the drool runs down it while she chews on it and pulls the hook part against her gum.
Most exciting is how hard she is working on walking. She took two steps from the bath to the sink on her own during the week and K and I were thrilled and held our breath while she did it. Then today she took three steps, falteringly from a chair into open space but fell down. She did try again later and again fell down but I really think it won't be long now 'til she is motoring around on her own. Thankfully, they are in the process of building a fence around our porch so we will be able to spend more time safely outside in the cool air looking at all the birds (and squirrels).
plumbing
Well the Monday following our amusing plumbing, the boss man turned up to look at the loo for himself. He took one look at it and figured out what the problem was and then within five minutes had fixed it and fixed the other running loo. Totally spoiled my fun with the other chap and his cohorts.
Thursday, November 04, 2010
Revenge is sweet
Same night as the squirt gun incident. It's 1:36am and all are asleep. Ratatatatatttatt! Spiro on the roof again. Tatttatttatt! Emma stirs. Rattattat! She wakes! Ratattatt! I nurse her and she goes straight back to sleep. Rattattatt! No reaction. I call this a draw. Spiro 3 - 2 Tasha still.
En Guarde!
Emma and I were sitting on the porch feeding the birds. We had five hornbills, three males and two females, two male weavers and one female, a host of sparrow weavers and a morning thrush. We also had Spiro. He ducked and wove his way down the branches and then snuck down the trunk and across the ground. As soon as his feet touched the porch I squirted him with my water gun. SPLAT!! *insert evil and even maniacal laughter* He ran back the way he came and kept on going! ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Tasha 2 - 3 Spiro ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Monday, November 01, 2010
Baridi
Priscilla has a horror for all things cold. I have told you before of how she is always inspecting Emma and telling me how she needs socks and shoes and a jacket and hat, indoors. Well we got socks and she now wears either those or shoes and generally a jersey since it has been chilly in the mornings.
I have now introduced a whole new "crazy Americans" or possibly "bad parent" for her. Emma is getting new teeth, the next two on the bottom are coming through and we are in full combat pain mode. One of our most effective tools are the frozen chew toys. I took one out of the freezer and gave it to Emma. Priscilla watched me closely, then grabbed the toy and felt it. She gave exclamations of horror; "Baridi! Baridi!" Baridi is the Swahili word for cold. I pantomimed that it helped with the teeth but she just kept telling me, repeatedly, how cold it was. I decided to exit stage right and took Emma with me, chewing on her icy toy. Leaving Priscilla to shake her head in dismay.
I have now introduced a whole new "crazy Americans" or possibly "bad parent" for her. Emma is getting new teeth, the next two on the bottom are coming through and we are in full combat pain mode. One of our most effective tools are the frozen chew toys. I took one out of the freezer and gave it to Emma. Priscilla watched me closely, then grabbed the toy and felt it. She gave exclamations of horror; "Baridi! Baridi!" Baridi is the Swahili word for cold. I pantomimed that it helped with the teeth but she just kept telling me, repeatedly, how cold it was. I decided to exit stage right and took Emma with me, chewing on her icy toy. Leaving Priscilla to shake her head in dismay.
All is peaceful. The birds are playing in the grass, the dikdik are grazing at the edges of the driveway and Emma and I are watching it all. Spiro stalks us down his tree, twitching from branch to branch 'til he is in our faces. Then he flicks his tail arrogantly as if you say ne, ne, you can't get me. I use my new found weapon - a baboon bark. Usually it stops Emma from sticking her fingers in plugs and it chases off the monkeys. This time it's an impressive bark, it holds all my aggression towards this rat with a fluffy tail. The dikdik flee in terrified bounds, the birds take to the skies and Emma's bottom lip first trembles and then parts to emit a wail which is followed by heart-rending cries. Spiro laughs at me and saunters back up the tree. Tasha 1 - 3 Spiro. Botheration!
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