I should change the name of 3limes to The Dark Journals. Once again I am writing by candle light in a power cut. In his overly optimistic fashion, the same happy slant that proves him to never be a weather man; he has a tendency to deny rain even when it is pouring on his shoulders, my sweet man thinks power cuts are “good “ for us. They give us a different perspective, shake up our comfort zones. I argue that my comfort zone is plenty shaken, thanks very much and the last thing I need is a life lived by candle light. I laugh when I hark back to the days when candles were an accessory, something to add atmosphere to a room. Now they are essential ingredients for a functioning life.
Trinidad is hopping with near naked girls, the rum is flowing, the Soca is loud, the streets are alive with an energy that is one of a kind. It is Carnival.
Canadians have their chests puffed out with pride, they are tossing red and white flags and scarves in the air and celebrating the Winter Olympics. Small children are dreaming about Bobsleds and Hot Dogs and Moguls, Gold is glinting in the eye of every Canuck.
Meanwhile we have our own celebrations going on.
The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Music here in Kampala. The organization know as KADS ( Kampala Amateur Dramatic Society) is putting on a production of Maria and her singing nuns. This movie just so happens to be one of my favorite things, so off we toddled to audition. By us, of course I mean my daughters. Wednesday after school, there they were, raisons in my bun, on stage singing, smiling, projecting their voices and looking all very thespian. Saturday, after receiving the call backs to return for a second audition, we go back again, but this time we drag handsome husband along for good luck. The Saturday Sessions were far more scary as they took place on the main stage in front of dozens of people. Turns out, there were 70 kids going for 13 parts. ( They were doing a double cast for the children.) It was a ton of fun, great laughs, bravery and back clapping all round, and then we pushed Handsome Husband on to the stage.
“Go on!” We urged. “It’ll be fun. You can be a Soldier!”
Next thing I saw he was up there with his charming accent singing Doe a Deer in French and making the KADS women slightly weak in their knees. Where did this man come from? He had never been on a stage in his life and here he was as comfortable as a Canadian in the snow.
A few hours later I get the call.
“ We wanted to ask, before sending out the emails. We want to select one of your daughters but not the other. Will this be a problem?”
Perhaps some mothers in a misguided attempt to save their children from any disappointment would have politely declined the opportunity. I am of the firm belief that disappointment is a certainty in this life, and it is a fine idea to get used to it early on.
Still, it was hard,
Trooper was to be left out, Princess was in.
And so was the Handsome man I live with. Otherwise known as Admiral Schreiber.
Rain drops and roses….