No Refunds

I suppose there are cases when you buy some one a gift and it breaks before you get it home or you find out the recipient already has a whatchamacallit. So you run back to the store and return it. After standing in a long line you have exchanged the gift and are on your way with another idea. Christmas gift-giving takes on a different look in Togo.

Every year at Christmas, we try to bless the families of the guys that work at our house with a little extra. This year the plan was for each of them to receive a goat and a bag of rice. The guy from the village arrived today with the goats, have I mentioned that Marty was not home and had forgotten to tell me that they would be coming today? Now if this scenario wasn't already light years different from your gift-giving routine, just wait. One of the goats got hung up somehow in the taxi van and was dead by the time it got to our house. It was beyond me, how the driver did not notice.

So I am standing at the front door with three live goats and one not. I ran to Koffi's house, who ran and got Benoit, our night guard. Then proceeded a discussion of who was going to take the dead goat, which meant it needed to be dressed today.

I felt sorry for the one that agreed to take the deceased animal, I would have returned it to the store for him if it worked that way. I would have atleast liked it if the driver felt some responsibility for not delivering the goat breathing. Still, their families will be eating well for a few days. I hope the blessing didn't get lost.

I do apologize if this touches a sensitive cord for any of my animal loving readers.

My Life With Boys

I recently bought a pink t-shirt. That may not seem like a big deal, but you see, I have never worn pink. It isn’t supposed to look good on a redhead. For some reason, though, I really wanted something pink. I think I wanted to remind myself that I am a girl. Living in a house full of males has diminished my girly-ness.

My friends that are mothers of all boy families know what I am talking about. (And there are an abundance of you: Savannah, Tracey, Katey, Karen, Sandi, and Christine, to name a few.) These women know that it takes a different kind of womanhood to exist in an all-boy household.

For one thing, a mother of all boys had better know something about sports, if she doesn’t want to be left out. I have spent my share of afternoons throwing footballs and catching baseballs. It has been to my favor that my cousins, (all the kids my age were males on my Dad’s side of the family) taught me how to throw a spiral and how to close the glove on that ball. I have been amazed at how much Taylor (the silent one) will talk if I am on the receiving end of his passes.

Another thing that I have noticed is that our language is different. I find it effective to use sound effects when communicating with my boys. Add a few “Pow!”, “Brrrrr!”, “Splat!” or “”Zing!” to my discussion and I have all ears. One day I realized our family had engaged in a conversation that consisted of very few intelligible words, and the funny thing was we all understood each other.

Sometimes I have wondered what it must be like to have tiny nails to paint or little tresses to braid; to have someone to pass on my sewing knowledge to; someone to share the small, cute, quiet things in life with. I guess I will wait for daughter-in-laws and granddaughters for those things. For now I will enjoy throwing the pig-skin with my boys . . . while I wear my pink t-shirt.

Envying My Neighbors

There is more to our lives than the electricity rationing, internet outages and water shortages, but it just happens that those things send me down a road of pondering. For instance, today the power and water were turned off way before the scheduled time, which sent me into a mental frenzy of reorganizing my day. Deciding to turn on the generator was even a struggle, not knowing how long we would need it and how much gas there was to be used. Still, I was so thankful for the option of an alternate power source. (And what I am about to say, doesn't mean that I am ready to do without it.) That made me pity my neighbors, who don't have any other options. But wait, my neighbors don't have washing machines, refrigerators, and computers to do their chores for them. The course of their day is not altered by the lack of electricity. So in the end, I find myself, not pitying, but almost envying my neighbors for their simple way of life and lack of complications brought on by excess.

I guess this goes to show that I've been in Africa long enough to have pretzel logic - a twisted way of seeing things.

Spring? Cleaning

Okay, so it was a Saturday, and we all know that traditionally means some housework must be done. But it is not Spring and the whole house should not have needed a thorough cleaning, but today that's what it got. We have had a bit of tick problem with the dog, so we had her treated and then called the neighborhood "terminix" man, ironically, his name is Boy. He showed up this morning and made a big mess. His equipment consists of a gas powered blower, like they use for farming. Now that sounds fine for the yard, but that's also what he used inside. Curtains flying out the windows, pictures blown from their nails, paint chips blasted from the ceiling; puddles of poisonous goo on the floor with Boy's muddy footprints tracked through. All this not to mention us transplanting ourselves around the house and yard to get away from the noxious fumes. When he had finished and I went in the house to assess the damage, I felt that I should call Nic (the insurance adjuster that he is). It was a war zone. A lamp on the floor, glass from a picture shattered, one dead lizard and hopefully buckets of dead bugs. Well, I don't need to replay what my day held, I should sleep good after a day of hard work.

Birthing The Boys

I am welcoming my four sons into the world - into the blog world that is. Yes, the Koonce kids have their own blog. Go to http://the4ts.blogspot.com to keep up with Tucker, Taylor, Tanner and Trevor. We hope this will be a fun way for their friends that have left Africa and their relatives back in the States to keep in touch.

They Didn't Count The Costs

The talk was on the street again that the Togolese Government didn't buy enough hydroelectric power from its neighbors, Ghana and Benin. Last week we started noticing that the power outages were coming more regularly and could only guess what that might mean. Sure enough, a representative from the electric company showed up with a schedule for the next month of when Tabligbo will be shut off. (That's the first time they have ever notified us, so that is one improvement.) Roughly six hours off, eighteen on. So I have spent the day trying to get everything done that requires power before 6:00 tonight.

Oh, and all this just in time for my in-laws to visit! It was during their first visit here that we had our first experience with rationing. Dejavu! Anna, it looks like you will have reason to camp under the mango tree again.

He Joined The Ranks

Last Night, my dear husband was sitting at the computer enjoying the wireless internet connection, when he called out to me "I think I'll have a blog, help me thing of a name." Well we set about a conversation of titles and purposes. Nothing I came up with fit him, so he came up with one on his own. Ten Minute Musings. I think he is trying to prove a point to everyone who says he is long winded, he can say it in ten minutes or less. Of course that doesn't mean he can't blog 142 times a day! Welcome, dear. And BTW, I am interested in what you say even if it takes more than ten minutes.