There are so many topics to write about, but I as sit here, dripping in the late afternoon of a very humid day, I thought I would tell you about my phone connection.

It isn’t working. Again.

Ever since I came back after the summer and finally got it hooked up again, it’s been slow, but lately it’s been slower than…trying to come up with killer metaphor here…slower than 1980s dial-up! Slower than a child playing outside on a summer’s night told to hurry up, time for his bath. No, that strikes the wrong note. Slower than a little old woman whose kids want her to stop driving, going 20 miles per hour in a 70 mph zone. Ok I’ll keep working on this.

All week, web pages have taken 10 minutes or more to open. I’ve tried to comment on some blogs but have given up in frustration as the connection times out and then won’t restart. But today (Wednesday), it’s all gone.

October in Nouakchott is like this. There are issues with electricity, water, phones. But we’re hanging in there—the cool season is coming, when the skies are clear and blue and the heat is dry and not so intense, when you open all your windows in the late afternoon to catch the cool breezes and close up at 10 to seal that coolness in through the heat of the day. Can’t wait.

In the meantime, one nice thing about this kind of weather is that you don’t have to wait to soften your butter! Take it out of the fridge, and it’s soft enough to not tear the bread in about 3 minutes.

 

On a brighter note, I’ve read quite a bit lately on various blogs about women worrying about whether writing about their kids is in some way exploiting them. I never worry about it, but then I grew up being a sermon illustration. Compared to that, a blog is nothing.

I left this (offline) file open while I went to sit under the fan for a bit. Elliot came along and read the whole thing—all 37 pages of it. He didn’t seem too traumatized; in fact, he’s chuckling about a couple of the stories. Phew! Guess we don’t have to shell out for therapy just yet.

 

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