Yesterday evening was an interesting evening.
On Saturday morning Amber, Kenzie and I had
headed to an early morning market about 30 minutes south of us. Among our purchases
we had several plants; some parsley, some mint, some tomatoes and a chilli
plant that had been given to us despite protests that we’d never eat the chillies.
We hoped to put them in our garden or some pots (We hadn’t really thought beyond
‘We want a herb garden, let’s buy some herbs’) and didn’t realise until we got
home that we had neither pots or tools with which to garden. There was a brief
escapade with one of our kitchen utensils by Amber, but the soil turned out to
be too hard. So we put them in the fridge and left it for a day.
Fast-forward to Sunday afternoon. We’ve just
left a cafe we’ve sat in for a few hours, more for the internet than the
drinks, and Amber and Kenzie are planning to catch a songtaow to an evening
service while I’m heading home with the noble intention of lesson planning,
writing emails, doing my washing and other such mundane week-end trivia.
Get home, hop in shower, hop out, put on clean
clothes, throw nasty-dirty-smelly clothes in the wash, bring all my work
downstairs and then...
Perhaps I’ll
put the sprinkler on. I bet the grass could use some water.