bucket

Father Hank had an expression “crying tired”.  Well, that is the way I feel tonight.   It has been a full day, things have been accomplished, good moments shared, meaningful conversations on African-American existential issues with the student that Tally and I are sponsoring.  I look forward to sharing some of that with you all when am not so weary.

I brought my pedometer with me here to see how far we walk in a day. To and from my school, around our neighborhood at the college and so forth – today seven miles. I am suffering from a bit of vanity because at the last minute I left my comfortable, worn-in clogs, in favour of brand new ones (same make and style) because I only brought two pairs of shoes, running shoes and the clogs.   Well, I did not want to wear my crummy old clogs traveling on the plane, etc.  so bought new ones, and the second day of walking back and forth to my school, I have blisters on the soles of my feet. Tally had bandaids, so I put them on, put on socks and the worst-looking old running shoes and am wearing them with my nice skirt and top.  I sigh with comfort, and no one has commented either. (Tally just laughed when I mentioned this to her as she dutifully polishes our shoes everyday, sometimes twice a day, because of the dusty paths we walk on.) The wind does a dance with the dust and we end up with dusty hair, clothes, shoes, teeth and noses. But, our friends, it is a lovely COOL breeze not a hot and humid breeze and we sleep at night under two warm blankets while you turn on the air. Na,na, na, na, na.

Lots to do tomorrow, it is ten o’clock, time for a bucket bath and bed. (There actually is a sensual joy in tipping an entire bucket over your head and feeling it run down your body.) The “shower” or faucet is a tiny stream, so useless. We are lucky though, because we do have water and a loo in our home.   Sleep well, Y’all. Jessie and Tally

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