Homework, Hockey, and Heat
I’ll skip the requisite apology for not updating this blog recently – it seems that everyone in the world has issues with keeping up with tyranny of blogging, and so I am in good company. What is it that makes us feel guilty about not taking the few moments to let the world know what we are doing every moment? I, for one, feel no guilt about this – so, take that Postmodern World!
Homework continues to rear its ugly head in life – though, I suppose as an educator I should have a more positive opinion about this thing that I actually make my own students do. But, it’s taken on new status in our home as of late. Not only do Ezra and Isaiah (and occasionally, even I have some work to do at home) have daily homework, but now Jeannie has gotten into the habit as well! She’s embarking on the “What will I do when I grow up” journey, and has begun taking classes on the path to becoming a trained Natural Nutritionist. You’ll have to talk with her about the exciting details, but she is enjoying learning about the amazing bodies we live with each day – chemistry and all – and is loving every minute!
Hockey season is here…er…not here necessarily, as Kenya has yet to put together even a WHL team for this year. But, as usual, in the absence of the CBC’s coverage of HNIC on my television screen, I’ve joined the ARARSH (Annual Rosslyn Academy Regular Season Hockey Pool). In fact, Ezra and Isaiah and I are engaging in this most important Canadian rite of passage together, and so are eagerly anticipating each day’s new statistical breakdown of how well The Northern Pikes (don’t you love our team name:)) did last night. It’s fun, and hopefully will foster more togetherness and love of hockey in the boys.
Heat is a full-court press here these days, because it is DRY, DRY, DRY all over this beautiful country. The jacaranda trees are pushing out their purple flowers daily, but I think they’re forcing the issue in preparation for the much-awaited rains. Things are dire all over Kenya (see NY Times article http://www.nytimes.com/2009/09/08/world/africa/08kenya.html?_r=1). Two nights ago, our tin roof finally felt a half-hour rain spell, but the daily heavy downpours of the usual “Long Rains” seem to be staying away, and today is another scorcher. We can only pray for rain as much of Kenya continues to suffer. Please join us in prayer!
Here’s an appropriate poem:
I was born in a drought year. That summer
my mother waited in the house, enclosed
in the sun and the dry ceaseless wind,
for the men to come back in the evenings,
bringing water from a distant spring.
veins of leaves ran dry, roots shrank.
And all my life I have dreaded the return
of that year, sure that it still is
somewhere, like a dead enemy’s soul.
Fear of dust in my mouth is always with me,
and I am the faithful husband of the rain,
I love the water of wells and springs
and the taste of roofs in the water of cisterns.
I am a dry man whose thirst is praise
of clouds, and whose mind is something of a cup.
My sweetness is to wake in the night
after days of dry heat, hearing the rain.
~ Wendell Berry
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