I didn't write in my journal last night... oops. The first 4-6 hours passed in a relative blur, though, lying in bed with ice-packs around my cheeks and popping alternating doses of Ibuprofen and Vicadin every three hours. I am enjoying a creative-time week, all things considered. I tried Pavlovas Saturday night - the meringue was goood - as well ( Read more... )

is a turning point.

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    I got home early today, around 3 o'clock, and picked up our mail on my way inside. I shuffled through it, past magazines, Christmas cards, and college junkmail, until-- I picked out the latest Nyumbani newsletter, in color. It made me sad, to know that I would unfold it to find another obituary, but I opened it anyway, if only to see what else ( Read more... )

    Early Monday morning, my great uncle Angelo D'Agostino died. The finality of those words is so great; he was in the hospital in Nairobi when his heart stopped, and they were unable to resuscitate him. I am told that the children lined up outside the hospital as honarary guards when his body was carried out, and that the only thing on the ( Read more... )

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