Close your eyes. Now imagine it is Friday. And pretend I am not so behind on my blog:
Today is a momentous occasion.
I am learning the prestigious art of bread care. Not necessarily the making of the bread but in my specific case the order in which it is taken out of the galley racks. I got a talking to today by Eddy the returned cook who takes his bread very seriously.
The bread is then placed in a terrifying machine. The Bread Cutter. With a quivering hand I pull the menacing black handle towards myself. The machine comes to life with bone-shaking roar as it opens it's great mouth. The doomed loaf is then placed in between this monster's jaws. I let the handle go. The now sliced bread slides out from the dark depths and then deposited with still shaking hands onto the buffet lines.
Today is a momentous occasion.
It has rained four straight days in Africa.
Today is a momentous occasion.
It is 8/8/08. The Olympics. I fought distraction all afternoon with the opening ceremonies playing on the televisions in the dining room. The entire thing was so awe inspiring. It was so artistic and rhythmic and and colorful. Every country's team entering with pride. And the outfits and the flags and the leaders of the countries there. I want those red dresses that the Chinese women got to wear.
Today is a momentous occasion.
I went to Mama Fasu's orphanage again and loved it. The children recognized me and I made a longer list of names to memorize. One of the little girls played a hand clapping game with me. In a sing song voice she sang with words so similar to the jump rope and hand clapping games we would play at home. We played hop scotch and they tried (unsuccessfully I might add) to teach me a game involving different teams and squares sketched in the dirt that people darted in and out of. This time Becca, our new team leader went with me. It was fun.
Today is a momentous occasion.
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