For about a week, wherever I walked, there were macumba 'artefacts' lying around - candles in one place, random chickens in another, but none to rival my one walk. Every second block had an entire row of chickens. Is that desperate macumba?
No, it wasn't the prolific macumba that influenced my disappearance... though you never know, right? I got very busy. My weeks were taken up with teaching - with brief stops at home to change clothes or pick up materials, dinner at 9pm and falling into bed. Saturday afternoons were filled with laundry and housekeeping and Sunday found me under a pile of papers preparing for the next week. I think I lost myself somewhere in there.
I've been pretty under the weather, topped, this weekend, by a cold - kindly contributed by the sniffing cashier, I'm sure. I threatened to disinfect my bank card when I got home and forgot. I should sue them for Vit. C tablets... or her. Her... uh... nasal hygiene left a lot to be desired.
I really, really want to write again, but I tend to write 3 lines before my mind wanders and the pen lies idle. I have at least 6 draft posts here that will probably never see the light of day. Their impetus is quite gone.
So, in short, beyond tripping over chicken remains in the road, a very bad diet of snatched snacks at odd hours, blearily looking at my over-full mailbox in the evenings, I have nothing to report. Life, as it is, is continuing at a steady (and, today, noisy) pace. The sun is shining and the neighbours are vying with each other to see who can play the worst music the loudest. Their attempts at barbecues aren't very successful either. I strongly suspect that I'm going to work smelling of wood-smoke this week. I suppose I should take that laundry down before it's totally cured...
