Something about a sweaty horse…

I logged into this last time and it said it was inactivated. So I panicked. And have been forced against my will to write. Or to at least attempt.

I’m still in Uganda. Same old same old. Oh, I was at my babies home today (- have I mentioned this before? I go once a week to work at Sanyu Babies Home) and one of the little boys, Noah, who I am partial to (note: do not have favourites) was walking for the first time. I’ve never been so proud. He walks as though he is wending his way home from a night out on the town.. weaving from left to right, occasionally falling over with a bump when giggling overcomes balance.

Diane came. She left last week, and I missed her like hell for a couple of days, but have sunk back into my old routine now, no problem. We had an excellent time when she was here, I saw bits of Uganda I’d never really got round to before and remembered what it was like to be cold while visiting Kabale, in the south-west. It’s higher up than most of the country. I spent the evenings wrapped in jumpers and rugs, shivering, while Kath and Diane sat around in sleeveless t-shirts fanning themselves and drinking cold beers.

I am reading Tess of the D’Urbervilles, at long last. I remember, ages ago, Eleanor berating poor Tess: “basically, she suffers and suffers and suffers and suffers and suffers and suffers and dies… what a pathetic heroine!..” and now I see what she means. She is a bit of a whingy female lead, almost as bad as Fanny Price, who I cannot stand. Elizabeth Bennet, now that’s my idea of a good heroine. And she gets Darcy.

I don’t have a tv, ok?

I have six minutes left, so I am going to save this before it cuts me off.

love

Em xx