October 1, 2009
Joseph and Bernard (the cook’s sons) spend a lot of time at our house. They enjoy exploring Eli and Lucy’s toys and movie media.
The other day though, they each arrived with something that peeked the interest of both Eli and Lucy.
Home made cars:
A fruit juice box, couple sticks and can lids.....
A cut up flavored milk crate, bottle caps & sticks
Bernard working on a car for Eli and Lucy
September 1, 2009
Lucy will be 3 in a about 2 weeks.
She’s at the stage where everything she thinks comes out of her mouth (I guess some people never get out of that stage).
Today her winner comments both had to do with Esther our househelp.
The first, announced to the whole family when Esther come out of the bathroom: “Esther went potty! Look everyone, Esther went potty!” Esther was a good sport and laughed it off.
The second announcement was in the car as I was going to pick Eli up from school and we were giving Esther a lift.
“Mom, Esther’s stinky!” Ok, so yes, she has a particularly potent African odor to her, but I think that I am getting used to it and don’t notice it anymore.
No one commented. I tried to pass it off and save embarassment for everyone by saying, “Oh, Lucy, I think you are the stinky one!”
She insisted that she wasn’t, kept on with the stinky comments, and then progressed I think to saying it “Smelt poopy” when I told her to stop the potty talk and we were finished with that!
July 2, 2009
This last week Ian had an interesting conversation with a Kenyan man who will renamed nameless in order to protect the innocent (quite literally).
The conversation started out with a discussion of movies and the man asking Ian, “Why do they all hurt each other like that?”
“What do you mean, hurt each other?” Ian replied.
“Like killing each other, and shooting each other. Doesn’t that hurt?” the Kenyan questioned.
“Well, it’s acting” Ian slowly said
“But in Terminator, that man pulled back his skin and there was metal under there!” exclaimed the Kenyan.
“Yeah, but that wasn’t real.”
“But there was metal inside his arm!”
Ian again, “But that is acting.”
Kenyan man getting frustrated that Ian was not understanding, “But what about the wrestling? They must be really angry to do that to another. They must be very dangerous to know those moves.”
Ian, “Uh, that’s just fake.”
“What do you mean? They are jumping on each other and hitting each other.” Kenyan man says very confused.
Ian, “No, it’s just acting, it is all planned out ahead of time, you know, like a script. Actually, the Terminator is the governor of California!”
Kenyan man, “Ahhh, ohhhhh!”
And so the conversation continued. I don’t think that Ian was successful in convincing this man that Terminator wasn’t really made of metal and was pulling his flesh off. He’s right, that really would hurt!
Anyhow, in the spirit of our WWF story, thought I’d share a little WWF Lucy style that has been a favorite past time right when I am trying to shoosh them both to bed:
WWF is real in our house.
July 2, 2009
This week a volunteer arrrived from Holland and she was sent with a plastic bag of random goodies to give out to children. She brought the bag to us for use by the children at the Centre.
Eli and Lucy decided to preview the contents and do a little modeling for us. Eli’s looking pretty “cool”, but I think Lucy’s look has a bit of work to be done yet:
June 16, 2009
I love to knit. Knit and purl, and slip one over.
In the big process of packing up our house for Kenya, Ian inadvertantly packed my knitting….just in the wrong place: a huge box and NOT my suitcase. I thought about digging it out until I saw the box it was in the bottom of. Ian replied, “I’m sure you won’t be knitting in Africa.” Famous last words.
I even have a sweet case for all of my needles that my awesome sewing sister-in-law made that looks kind of like this except in pink and black (at least I think it’s pink and black, it’s in the bottom of that box you know):
Every once in a while I get the need to knit, and then I knit like a fool for a while, and then leave it for a while or longer. I have started many a sweater only to finish it after my child is too big for it, and thus I have to find another use for it: like donating it to the Women of Vision silent auction. I took a picture of the “Lucy sweater” before I sent it off, because I thought it was an especially cute sweater & I was especially proud of learning the new technique to get the lacey edging look:
Isn't it cute?
I think I got the pattern for it from this book, but course the book is in that darn box, so now I’m not sure:
Needless to say, I thought it would be pretty easy to find some knitting needles here. Not so. I am sad. I spent yesterday afternoon scouring the Makongeni Market with Esther, my house help, but to no avail. I could tell what the shopkeepers were saying by their nonverbals and gestures in other directions. ”Not here, no I haven’t seen them, try down that way.”
I’ve googled about every different configuration of knitting and Nairobi, and haven’t found anything yet. I know that there must be women knitting here! I see pictures of African women posted on the web spinning and dying wool for yarn. And, they wear sweaters and knitted hats when it’s 80 degrees Fahrenheit out here for goodness sakes! Our night guard (yes, they are different from the day guard people) even has a sweet knitted ski mask that he wears, except that it looks like it was sized for a baby. He’s not the only one I’ve seen wearing something like that. I’ll ask him if it’s ok for me to take his picture some night. It’s quite a sight: him in his professional “security guard” uniform and then the baby ski mask thingy.
If I can’t find some needles soon, I might be having one of you back home making a run to the knitting store (if you craft, sew or knit–knitting shops are a visual paradise) to grab a couple pairs of needles and some cheap skeins of yarn.
I think I’ll be working on a pair of these to wear here in Kenya:
Or maybe these:
Or, I’ll just stick to this kind of thing (yes, I think this is cute):
June 11, 2009
On her "mountain" of stones..beyond a canyon/river but it is hard to tell.
That is Eli’s name for Lucy when he is teasing her. It drives her crazy. He knows it does, so of course she gets called that even more. Until I step in to referee. Then he just tries to whisper it. Anyhow, Lucy is quite the character. Surprising people here with her boldness and toughness. People are always grabbing for her when she falls, but then she just gets up, brushes herself off and is fine. She wanted me to take this picture of her outside when she was playing “king of the mountain”, which involves her yelling to anyone who will listen, “GET OFF MY MOUNTAIN!” I don’t know where they get these things.
As we were walking outside, it was early evening and Lucy pointed and said, “It so shiney!” I must have looked confused because she repeated herself and pointed to the sky. The evening sky at dusk looked shiney or rather silver if you ask me, but hey, shiney works. Then she pointed to the cow and said, “Did they melt the cow?” Took me a minute to figure out that one too. Melt, milk. You can see how the two words might get confused. Then she looked at the scab on her knee and said, “Come on with me owie.”
Sometimes you just got to love this girl. Stubborness and all. Ok, I love her all the time.
April 1, 2009
We use a lot of OUST spray in this house. Right now I have the citrus version that is a disinfectant and a sanitizer.
Sometimes I read labels, just for fun. On cereal boxes, pretty much anything. It’s a strange habit, I know.
Today, I read the OUST label. On the back it has this warning: DO NOT USE ON PETS. I found that extremely amusing. I pictured someone spraying their dog down. Obviously people do that, or they wouldn’t have to put that warning on there.
The other funny thing is that Lucy has progressively turned into a “bag” lady. My pictures document her journey of containers:
Seriously. I don’t know how this could progress any further. A 32 gallon trash can? You should hear the noise this thing makes as she drags it out of her room in the morning, drags it to every room she is in, and tries to get it into her crib at night. Simply hysterical.
