Selling up and adding up

Today a man called Johnny came to buy our trailer. Because we’re packing up to go – eventually. When I can get my head around it. I find packing a lunch taxing, packing a 40 ft container will probably put me in therapy.

Anyway. Johnny came and paid his money and took the trailer away and I felt inexplicably sad. We have never used it. Other than when we moved from Dar es Salaam, on the coast to here, Arusha, 16 years ago. It had a cot in it then, for Ben. Who was still in my tummy. I don’t know why I felt sad. End of an era I suppose.

The move inevitably means advising those that need to know of change of postal address – the few that still send stuff in the mail. Like the bank. Though frankly I’d rather not get letters from them. And the subscriptions office at The Spectator and The Week. And I would be very disappointed not to get those. The Week because it means I can be reasonably well informed without reading a newspaper that makes my arms ache just to hold it up. And the Spectator because I hope that people will think I’m cleverer than I am if they see it lying around the house; they won’t know that all I read are Deborah Ross’s restaurant reviews. Not because I’m ever going to get to London to eat, of course, but because she makes me laugh.

When I have finished selling trailers and writing to the bank, I must begin work on a couple of commissions, one is a story about aging and insomnia at which juncture I’d like to point out that despite an insomnia tag I’m not OLD. Infact I slept for 9 1/2 hours on Friday night.

The other is about homeschool.

Where we’re headed (once I’m out of therapy and over the packing), the children will have to – horrors, oh horrors – board. I gave them the option of homeschool, except Hattie, she’ll do as she’s told and stay home and do school with me because I’ve said so and because I can’t bear to lose all my babies to an institution in one fell swoop. But the big kids reacted to idea of me as teacher in same way as I reacted to imminent boarding. And then I heard them confiding to one another that Mum couldn’t even add up so how was she going to teach IGCSE Maths which I thought was bloody rude frankly. And quite disloyal.

2 Responses to “Selling up and adding up”

  1. problemchildbride Says:

    I’ve just been finding out about Arusha. It’s a beautiful part of the world – you guys are lucky. Have you lived in Tanzania all your life?

  2. reluctantmemsahib Says:

    Hi there problemchild – yes, it is beautiful and we are lucky. No, I haven’t lived here all my life though the children have theirs; we moved to Tanzania from Kenya – next door, where we both grew up – when we got married 18 years ago. This morning, though, you wouldn’t believe this was tropic-exotic; it could be Scotland: it’s rained all night; the air and garden are saturated, the clouds touching the tops of trees and there is no sign at all of either Mts Meru or Kilimanjaro lost in the mist and the fog.

    thanks so much for the heads up on your blog – and for reading.

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