Wishes

Merry Christmas and a Happy New year one and all!!!!

Pat on the back

I am feeling like I woke up at my own funeral to listen to people talk about a person that (used to be me, and is on the other side now). I just went through with my yearly appraisal yesterday and have comments like she is a joy to work with, dependable and effective. From people with whom I work. Now I dunno about you, I feel totally unappreciated the whole year through, what with impossible deadlines and projects shoved down my throat with little or no appreciation. So am totally blown over by the comments, a good way to end the year, early Christmas present and a reassurance that I will still be on the payroll for the next year God willing...now if only I can get the powers that be to foot the bill for that trip to Mauritius, a girl can try non?

Yaaayy!!
This does not mean that I believe little in myself, I just need to hear that I am doing well from those I consider important. There hasn't been one person whose day was not made better by just a tiny little bit of appreciation for what they strive to do.

To be Six Again

Side Note: My muse is on leave so....

It was not a dark or stormy night. It was not even night at all but an equatorial African midday , the sun burning bright, the leaves whispering softly maybe even complaining that the wind decided to offer transport facilities to the next stop. Only problem they had not discussed this and maybe it was because they were dry and not succulent. No more use to the tree that had given them life some time earlier. Or was it the other way round? Does the tree sprout leaves to give them a life of their own or to give itself life? After all the leaves were long gone the tree remained. When the time came to shed them it did so albeit reluctantly.

You could smell the earth. Not the soil but mother earth in her majesty.

Man tries to take control and for a little while feels in control then the rain falls right after the met department declared confidently that the drought will extend for a month or so.

We need to have some food reserves, the wise ones would whisper and granaries would overflow.

The dust was overwhelming, all it took was a smile and your teeth acquired a reddish tinge. Not photogenic at all.

Alyssa was six years old then. She was nowhere near that age now, had seen more Mondays than she could count on the back of her hand. Moses would have removed his feet from the schools socks they all had to wear to count the number of years she had acquired. The math teacher had actually punished him for doing that.

As an adult herself now, she still wondered why they always acted the way they did. Everything was considered out of the ordinary if no one had done it before, but then everyoneÂ’s situation is different. Maybe a carryover from the school days when you had to be uniform to be at the same level in order to learn.

And learning she did everyday. Just the previous day she had learned that Moses had gotten married. He of the class 1 red, does he still love her toes the same way he did then? They were the same age and had gotten along like a house on fire. The way only children could

That was an affliction now. Liking something or someone.

If you loved eating there were voluminous terms for it like glutton, then there was bulimia and anorexia as well.

God forbid that you like any body part fingers, toes, the linguists would burn the midnight oil to find a term and the medics would soon come rushing after to classify you. You would have bear the syndrome or deficiency term thrown in for a good measure. How come no one ever punished Leonardo da Vinci for painting Mary so viciously? But then again he was an artist. Artists are other people.
She recalled the first time Daddy had met one of her very many strange friends. Strange in the sense that they could not be correctly labeled. He had dreadlocks and a girly look but boy; could he play the piano. Many an afternoon were spent with him on the keyboard and Alyssa singing her soul out. She loved to sing and that is what drew them together. Of course her mother had read otherwise.

"“Who is that young man I see you hanging around with?" Mother had asked in her usual tone when matters of such importance were involved.

"“Which one?"” she enquired just to make sure they were on the same wavelength. A description followed that had her prejudice detectors on high alert.

"“Mom he is NOT a thug"

The argument that followed had been repeated lots of times same script different names. Just like when she was six years old and found out that she should not be playing with the neighborsÂ’ children because they were not proper. They were not disciplined enough and would have been a bad influence to her. Never mind that they shared the same desk at school and whatever contagion that they had would have been passed on there as well. They spent a big portion of their time in each otherÂ’s company under the watchful eyes of their teachers.

There was no sense to what adults did then, and not now.

In her present state all she would have loved to do was take off her shoes and step on the shiny wet green grass outside her office window. Her workmates would have a fit because it was clearly labeled keep off the grass. The sign was put in such a way that there was no missing it. What would her excuse be?

The slight dampness of the grass was inviting.

She was however sure that, Tom the gardener, would understand perfectly He was such a great person inside the brown overalls, boots and mittens. She once caught him talking to a little bird perched on his fingers. Man and bird. Conversing. The sight was touching and the little bird seemed to understand him. It promptly flew away and come back a few minutes later to her amazement.

What she would have given to be six again. To let the wind caress her skin and the sun to warm it. To rejoice in the rain and not worry that it would ruin her hairdo. To be able to accurately tell a good man from a bad one. Especially this one!! To be a friend without holding back and worrying about being misunderstood. To worry not of the carcinogens she had come on contact with since she woke up. Just to be. The human that she was, to be herself.