A Change of Pace

Well, I've been out of the village for about two weeks now and in all honesty, I can't say that I miss it too much.  Primarily because of the heat.  The heat in February is just about unbearable.  I mean, come on, how ridiculous is it when you take a cold shower and then are sweating like none other by the time you get back to your bedroom?  Seriously. It was a good thing to leave when we did. I never knew that brushing your teeth was such labor. If "labor" is demonstrated by how much sweat you produce.  I know there are ladies out there who have an aversion to women "sweating" - they say they "glisten" instead. Well, I don't think those ladies have ever been to my village. It's all sweat here. Pure and simple.

But, like I said, I've been out of that for the last two weeks and how glorious it's been to put my fuzzy socks on and sleep under a blanket!  Never thought fuzzy socks could make me so happy. Mind you, the temp is probably around 75 degrees, but for me, that means cold feet and fuzzy socks. Life is good!

Another aspect of my change of pace: in the village, I usually have anywhere from 3 to 15 kids on my front porch at any given point in the day. The past week and a half I've also been surrounded by kids, but these kids have been nieces and nephews and first cousins once removed. I love being surrounded by family. My youngest niece is just shy of 3 years old, so she's gotten to the stage where she can actually sort of remember you. Which is great because it means I don't have to start at square one with her every day. :)  My oldest nephew is turning 13 in a month and a half and plays the sax. I got to go to band with him the other day and watch him interacting with his bandmates (is that a word?) and friends. He's grown about 5 inches since the last time I saw him. I'm thinking that at this rate, he'll be taller than me next time I see him. Wow. And he'll be a teenager. Even more of a Wow.

One of the best things about kids though, is what they say. My youngest nephew asked me the other day how old I was. I told him to guess. He said, "Mmm...100?" "Nope," said I, "guess again." "5!" said he. I told him "Close enough." :)  My second niece had a comment about the smell of pollution the other day as we were driving around town. Her window was rolled down and in an exasperated tone, she exclaimed, "I hate the smell of exhaustion!"  Me, too, Lydia. Me, too. :)  But the best one I've heard so far comes from my youngest niece, who, upon seeing the "owies" on my elbows from our time at the water slides, told me in no uncertain terms, "Auntie Sonya, you need a dam-aid!"