A Phone Call Home

The day dawned on my first full day in Swakopmund. I was anxious to get in contact with relatives back home, so found a phone as soon as I could. I hadn’t spoken with anyone for over two months, plus had not been very good with my written communication either. All I had sent them was the pictures of me and Nimesh, when I was dressed up in the full regalia of a sari and accoutrements back in Dar es Salaam. For all they knew, the pictures could have been my wedding photos. My Mother had worried about that from the day I left, as that would have matched my father’s tale of leaving home, never to return for having fallen in love on the road. While that was not the case here, they didn’t know that. And as for me, they couldn’t get in touch with me either, as I was constantly on the move.

So now I was eager for their voices and any news to catch up on. I rang through to Canada and joyfully heard my sister’s voice on the other end.  Sadly, my resulting phone call left my spirits far from high.

*****

And as it is Halloween night, that is all you get tonight. Hope you had lots of spooks visit you this evening! Boo!!!!

Happy Halloween!

Wee ghosts & goblins

scurry to my house

cry for treats & trinkets

til pumpkin orb I douse

You’ll be sorry kiddies

As I’ve a trick for you

I’ll get you my pretties

Boo!

All dressed up and no place to go,

but wait!

I can stop by Monkey's

for the Sunday 160

ah hahahahaaa!

Saturday's Email of the Week: The Dating Game

Saturday's Email of the Week

I love this! Make sure to watch the video to the very end. Its priceless! I can so relate.

Welcome to the dating scene...

 
BOB from Jacob Frey on Vimeo.

Calico Catnap

calico catnaps
now rest comfortably
on Canaan's shore

Goodbye sweet friend

your gentle ways will be missed

the story has a hole  

A Toast to Swakopmund

I was never so happy as to touch solid ground in Swakopmund. I had no urge to look back at the truck that had carried me across the desert, when it pulled away from me. Good riddance. The dual drivers had tarnished my sense of security and shortened a few years off my life. I had battled groping hands and a sense of doubt in humanity. Despite my fears though, I had made it.

As I settled into the bar at a new hostel, my first sip of Windhoek beer was like heaven. I had earned this beer, but somehow felt like I didn’t deserve it. My sense of being tainted left me feeling dirty. I could not change the past though, so instead let it go with hope for a new day bringing fresh smiles and happiness.

 Tomorrow, I would see the ocean again. The South Atlantic was just outside my view, but I could feel the salt air on my skin. It was a new coast for me and I was excited to see these western waves. For the time being, I looked forward to my first bed in three nights and a safe roof over my head. I enjoyed the stability of being stationary, the solitude of being solo and the peace that came with my pen on paper. A cold beer helped my troubles melt away and my journal reminded me that lessons can always be learned. The sun would rise again and I was blessed to be able to witness it.

A toast to Swakopmund.