Embracing Vulnerability: The anger of a polymath in a specialist society.

My friend said maybe I should try to less angry at the world. I had mentioned I was having a problem making simple decisions.

 (Me? Angry at the world? Nooo. I'm one of the happiest person I know in this world.)

But when your friend something you should take notice because she must have observed something. And the kind of relationship my friends and I have is, a friend won't say things to build up their own egos. 

No. We say things to improve each other. 

I decided to take it easy and check my behaviour for a while. 

But I had questions to myself.

 I know I used to be angry and did some anger management work and successfully acquired calm. 

And for years now I have been able to control strong angry feelings. 

But could it be as I worked to remove the hurt and bitterness out of me I may have just moulded it into a ball which I project to the world as I carry on with a cynical outlook to situations that try to upset my in-ward balance? 

Or might I still be holding it all in with a smile and just needing one thing to light me up and off I'll go off like a faulty firework? I also thought about the reasons that I could be angry at the world. 

Do I feel like the world owes me?

 Like it hasn't given me what I deserved? 

Probably. 

But that would be a narrow approach to it because. 

What of street kids being raised by druggies.

 What of those born in dire poverty where an egg is a luxury? 

What of those born sick? 

I remembered an interview I read in True Love magazine. 

Muthoni the Drummer Queen. She mentioned that She is a Polymath . 

A polymath is defined as a person who gains expertise in more than one field. Simply put, someone who has many interests. She said that she realised that in school she realised the best way to get her parents off her neck was to score good grades then she could focus on the things that really interested her. 

Thus blankets and wine and all her other awesome pursuits. That way nobody got hurt. I felt like to me, that was advice that came too late because unlike her, when I got bored with school or a job I simply wandered off.

So I was angry that, despite knowing exactly what I wanted to do with my life at 15. Here I was in business school trying to understand probability. Or here I was doing this job that I  have absolutely no idea how to do but because that is what is available. I am doing it for the rent it affords me, and food.

You've got to keep a certain balance between a boring job, your interest and hobbies and your personal life.

 And when I realised that that is how the world works I started to shape up and try to get into the job market but there is a big difference between a fresh hot college drop out and the same person ten years later. Your CV gets more scrutiny 10 years later .

 And I guess therein lies my angst at the world. 

When I have raised my arms and said okay world, I will do it your way. 

I will do the 9-5 and work on my interests at night. 

Then the world turns round and asks about gaps in my CV. 

How about experience? 

How about hard knocks? 

How about learning the hard way that early to bed and early to rise makes someone wiser and I can't remember what else but all I am saying is. 

Look here world. 

I'm done being sceptical. 

I will take your dry bread. 

I will sit in long mid morning meetings that could have been and e-mail. 

I will put on silly chiffon blouses and carry a bag with shinny knobs to show accomplishment. 

I'll do excel sheets and colourful word tables. 

Just give me that cheque. 

Never mind I will use it on art paper and paperback classics. 

Then I thought perhaps my anger was because of restrained grief from middle age tragedy. 

I may have felt anger but helplessness is the encompassing feeling that remains when grief subsides so no, not that.

 And then I got it.

 I take myself too seriously. 

And maybe if I learned to take a chill pill from time to time I may just refocus the strong feelings.

 I've been told I take things seriously. 

I do yes. 

I'm strict And rigid And a recovering perfectionist But it comes with trying to keep my world from toppling over. 

But just to see how it would feel. I'd let myself slow down a bit. 

I'd drink coke, leave my data on at night, pick up calls after curfew hours, and sleep in in the middle of the week. 

So I've slowed down in my expectations. 

And I just finished this book by a Kenyan writer. It's fiction. Best humour I have read since Trevor Noah's Born a Crime.

links: https://medium.com/@kkaitue/3-reasons-why-generalists-rule-the-future-77fb4f9ad430

          Nairobiwire

Blogger Posting Issues

I've been posting from my phone until Blogger decided to change the theme settings. Now I'm confused so the last three posts look like spam. Let me figure it out and your articles will be up soon enough.

Your Shallow and Incomplete Guide to Cooking Food.

For People who live alone or with cats and have eaten too much indo mee and are starting to wonder 'what is the purpose of my life?' 

 Relax. Good news here.

 I had an interesting conversation today. Do you know what is the difference between Kenyans and Americans during this Covid? Trump? 

No. Our poverty. The fact that we can grow our own greens behind our house and the landlord will think 'or nice, some landscaping at last' means while many in the developed world are affording vitamin suppliments and health insurance, 

sisi tunakimbilia ndimu za mbao hapo nje. (Lemons are five shillings each) 

 Have you been to the market lately? 

Have you seen the potatoes? 

Have you seen the cabbages? 

Na minji? And the Avocados?

 One theory is that last season was so productive in-spite of the locusts and despite the floods that spoilt most of the September and and October crop. 

 They other theory is that with restaurants and hotels shut down, the Grade one vegetables have been redirected to the mwananchi markets. 

Does this apply to flowers I wonder. @Homegrown si you just send me one bunch of yellow roses. 

Moja tu. 

 So when my uncle's wife (Tata) called to tell me she wanted to send me a package from home. I was thinking. Eeeeeeeee. I'm not sure.

 'The country is open and I know someone who is coming to Nairobi this week.' 

She said. She asked what I need. 

I said maybe beans? She asked which beans. I said 'let me try the yellow ones, I've heard they don't give gas.' 

Then she said she had pumpkins.

 'Ai Tata, mūrenge ngūtwara kūū?' 

(What will I do with a pumpkin)

 I eat pumpkins. The problem is Tata's pumpkins grow into such huge sizes it would take me a whole month to finish one. She said she had a small one. 

 Then she said she had Pamelo. 

 Pamelo is a fruit they discovered they could grow on the farm recently. It looks like a green eggplant. If you eat it on a cold day you might think you are eating something of a goat's menu. 

 But if you eat it it standing in the middle of the farm on a hot day with the hot soil under your feet. Then it's refreshing. 

It doesn't even occur to you that you are eating the sweeter version of ndongu (Sodom apple). 

Ma. 

 Ouch. 

I did press ups this morning and now my chest hurts. 

For a moment I thought corona was creeping up on me. 

 So Tata packed a package and of course she packed one month supply of potatoes because 'what else could I be eating' and when I got them in the evening and told her she scolded me. 

 'You mean they were brought to your gate? Now see. I could have even sent you maize but you are too wishy washy. Now see. But he is faithful for bringing you today. Ata I could have sent you milk and eggs.' 

(kione ii, kione ii uria uranyamarika, ni mwiiro wa ngoro ii ouria utakinyaga... 

) humming in my head because she was basically telling me 'I told you so.' 

 'Tata you said you packed Pomelo. This is white sapote.' 

'Ooo, ah, I mixed them up.' White Sapote looks like a Japanese Apple inside but with a smooth skin. 

So the pumpkin came. 

And I cut it in half and gave away half. 

And made bread with the rest. 

That is the very thing I want us to cook this week. 

And that story about yellow beans not making you gassy is not true. 

 Pumpkin Pan Bread.

Embracing Vulnerability : Parallel Homesickness, a poem.

Your Shallow and Incomplete Guide to cooking food for people who now have to catch and kill their own food.

Personality Profile: Mambo, dear old soul

"Mambo Mambo?"
That's my favourite greeting to my friend Mambo. He probably doesn't like it but he is such a well bred human being he would never say it to avoid embarrassing me.

Me on the other hand I am always telling people 'don't call me Mūthoni, don't call me Cess.'

It's amazing I still have friends at all.

I met Mambo one morning on the way to a Sign Language convention. He was extremely quiet. Later I learned it was because we were in the company of deaf people and he preferred to sign.

I agree with him on that.
And I refuse to speak Kikuyu in mixed company.
 Don't make me.
I will think bad things about you.
Much later, Maureen with a K introduced me to Mambo, properly.

She said he was a brilliant  graphic designer.
As a Content Consultant, I work with a web designer, graphic designer, a photographer and someone for video editing once in a while.

Mambo became a life saver for graphics.

He is not only fast but communicative. He would call to alert me incase of a delay because of slow internet or power cuts.

I really appreciated that.

Your team can mean whether you will get a Cheque this month or not.

Mambo's job turned out to be 100% each time. I could tell my client, this will be ready tomorrow morning and it would be.

But it's not just work wise.
It's about the kind of person Mambo is.

Part of it is that he is from a generation that exists on fearlessness.

Ok ok I am thrilled about growing up watching Tahamaki but you must admit we people from the 80s can get a bit boring.

A lot boring actually and so stuck on proving we are good enough we kinda lose ourselves somehow.

Mambo's generation is a confident, frank generation that does what is right if they are so inspired, and they do it the right away. They are not trying to impress or prove anything, they know they are good at whatever.

So I quite appreciate the friendships I have with these who say it as it is. No games, no tricks it's just what are we doing today? Okay let's.
No guess work.
"Any questions? Come ask me."

They seem to be saying. But without the bitterness of someone that feels slighted.


On the day of my mother's funeral Mambo said to me.

' I want you to use your imagination and think of Jehovah standing in front of you holding both of your hands and telling you, I'm with you. I'm with you Cecilia, you are my dear daughter.'

I used my imagination.
And then that passed.
And people dispersed.
And I got up each day and tried to live it.
And then I couldn't pray.
And if I did I simply said- I'm awake now, help manage somehow-

On one of those days I got to the meetings.
And the minute I got in I was convinced I should just go back home and re-start a sobbing session.
I smiled and waved at people and then I saw Mambo seated, arranging his things and went to him.

'I can't do this, pray for me.' Said I, without a greeting.

I thought he would tell me
"Cool cool I will, as soon as I finish setting up."
No, he moved over and asked me to sit beside him.

He said a prayer for me right there then gave me a hug.
And then I found enough strength to sit through that the meeting.

I will remember that forever.

Because, we are not weak forever.
We don't grieve forever.
But it's the hands that pull us out of the darkness that we remember.
Hands that hold us up until we can hold ourselves together again.
And strong enough to grasp others who are temporarily felled in this journey.

This Chic:Girl, Wash Your face. Like Hannah.

This is how I checked into the meetings on Sunday.
Great hair, lipstick done and wearing my favourite dress that a friend gave me.
I was early and ready to have the best zoom meeting.

I had stayed up awake most of the night watching my roof leak.
I had cried several times before 11.45 but I had washed my face and was ready for the next phase.

Power went off just before the song so I missed the talk.
And by the time I realised kumbe my power tokens had gotten finished it was time for the Watchtower discussion  so I was back like nothing had happened but this time it was raining and there were three men on my roof and dust and water falling onto the table.

But the show must go on.

A few hours later there was a zoom party.
This time the rain was coming down hard. My personal belongings, mostly books sand art were crowded in the driest corner of the house.

I was getting interrupted every five minutes.

There were loud steps coming from the roof.

I was worried someone might slide and break their leg so I was on the verge of another sobbing spell because where was I going to move to in this corona season and what if all my notebooks get too wet and I have to burn them?

Just then my landlord's wife came and said.
' Don't worry if this doesn't work you can move into the other vacant house, for the same price.'

She came with her grand daughter.

We all pretended it was not unusual that I was dressed up like a prehistoric Jewish woman.
They probably thought I had decided to fast and pray and that was my prayer attire.

I didn't mind.
I was playing Hannah in the zoom party and I was gonna be a great Hannah.

It was a lot of fun, playing Bible characters over zoom and just chilling out as friends.
And it doesn't matter that I am new here, I feel at home.

My friend asked  what I had learned from Hannah when she saw my picture in the costume.

This is a friend who reads the Bible 50 times more than I do so I have to be careful not to respond like an idiot.

What I would have liked to say is that I learned Hannah was very self controlled because if it had been me?

Three people would have gone home with black eyes.

The co wife who probably couldn't even cook a decent meal to feed the many children.
The conceited husband who thought he was the reason for Hannah's  breathing.
And Eli for thinking he could just say whatever to a random woman.


But I didn't tell her all that.

After thinking about it later I thought the best lesson I can learn from Hannah is about showing up.

To show up no matter what chaos are happening.

She didn't stay home and mope.

And after she had cried prayed like a drunkard to Jehovah, a scene I can relate to in every way,
She washed her face and get on with it.

Girl, Wash Your Face.

That is the book I am reading with a ruler and highlighter because Rachael Hollis speaks to me as a girl, a young woman and the pre-menoposal woman that I am.

She talks about feeling like you are not where you should be, about downplaying your glorious moments because you don't want to be judged?

Or even giving up our own auntheticity so that people can understand us and tolerate us more.

It made me think of when my mother came to visit me after her retirement.

At the end of the visit she said.
'You know, I think it's good to just live a private life your own way. Huku kwako kuna mastarehe ( It's very relaxing here.')

I remember thinking that that particular time she spent in my house I had not tried to impress her in any way. She had been able to see me in my own element.

 I wasn't trying to put up a show for her. I was just completely myself. I admit it wasn't the best version of myself. There was a load of washing standing up loke a stuffed statue and Happy would come and step on her face while she slept.

I had stopped struggling.
And when I stopped struggling I didn't care who accepted me or not.

And I wish I had had the courage to be myself completely without also trying to do things to please society because man, it's exhausting.

I have two people I am interested in pleasing.

Jehovah.
Me.


Every chapter is a favourite in this book
But my best line so far
Is.

-Find a tribe of people who are in a similar walk of life as you are. Once you find them, be honest about where you are and what you’re struggling with. Learn to ask for help, and when someone offers help, accept it! Accept any and all help you can get and consider it a gift from God! -

Of the best assets I could have wished to have by 2020,
having a tribe that completely understand me and my language is the best assets. A plot at Juja Kalimoni would  also be great.

My tribe consists of women who have gone through similar life stages as I have. Women who I can throw a question at and they will have a good solid answer not a washed out ' that's just how things are.'

Women who engage their brains to try and figure out thoughts, emotional and adult behaviour instead of dumping it on someone.

Women who make me think.
Women who remind me not to dare fall in love in covid-19 season when everyone is bored and wants to chat into the night.

Women who read and write amazing things.
Women who admit that they don't have it all figured out but they don't bury their head in the bread dough and pretend it doesn't concern them.

Women who save pictures of me and send them to me out of the blue just to remind Me I am awesome, but that doesnt mean they are not coz we aren't comparing each other here.

Shall I go on?

Personality Profile: A. Wan, my forever dad

This was 10 years ago.
I'm looking over at my dad, Andrew Wan.
He is chomping down his chicken and rice because he has to drive me to drama rehearsal.

I'm drinking black coffee that tastes like cotton black soil.
We came here to have a quick dinner but they don't have anything else but chicken and frogs.

I don't eat chicken and I'm too uptight to try the frog.

Actually the real reason is that the frog is the price of four dinners.
 Am a uni student and quite broke most of the time I am not gonna blow my food money on a reptile. Sorry amphibian.

So we are going to try and catch pork rice at a different place for me


I'm looking over at him like that because I feel like a real wild donkey.
I was annoyed that we stopped to catch a super and was not too nice about this being a chicken place.
And everyone is apologizing.

And Dad Wan might choke.
He just wants to eat quickly so I don't get late.

Me the wild donkey.
Three days later on the drive back to KL I will tell him his music is crap. So he will switch it off and try to stay awake anyway he can, talking to Helen. And my selfrighteoous wild donkey bottom will be looking out of the window thinking , I need to be shot.
Somebody call the firing squad.

But I guess, it's one of the things that teach you something about yourself, about other people and about God.
How God is like a father.
Because it didn't make much sense to me up until this year.
I have several dads now. Some I pursued, some realised there was a need, like
Andrew Wan.
I think he took one look at me and decided.
'What a worm, it needs a can before the Malaysian heat burns it into a crisp.'

He warned me off indo mee.

In his words
 'You eat indomee everyday your brain dies lah. '
So he would go to the market and buy me proper bean noodles and whole grain rice.
He told me the cheap places to eat and told me how to cook Asian meals.
Then he gave me Chinese classics to read then he said I needed to learn Asian music culture. His friend Mr Lim had every time of music so I got my hands into that as well.

Me and some other chaoThis was 10 years ago.
I'm looking over at my dad, Andrew Wan.
He is chomping down his chicken and rice because he has to drive me to drama rehearsal.

I'm drinking black coffee that tastes like cotton black soil.
We came here to have a quick dinner but they don't have anything else but chicken and frogs.

I don't eat chicken and I'm too uptight to try the frog.

Actually the real reason is that the frog is the price of four dinners.
 Am a uni student and quite broke most of the time I am not gonna blow my food money on a reptile. Sorry amphibian.

So we are going to try and catch pork rice at a different place for me


I'm looking over at him like that because I feel like a real wild donkey.
I was annoyed that we stopped to catch a super and was not too nice about this being a chicken place.
And everyone is apologizing.

And Dad Wan might choke.
He just wants to eat quickly so I don't get late.

Me the wild donkey.
Three days later on the drive back to KL I will tell him his music is crap. So he will switch it off and try to stay awake anyway he can, talking to Helen. And my selfrighteoous wild donkey bottom will be looking out of the window thinking , I need to be shot.
Somebody call the firing squad.

But I guess, it's one of the things that teach you something about yourself, about other people and about God.
How God is like a father.
It made me learn that I don't have to be a perfect human being to be loved.
God as a father allows for mistakes.

He knows the percentage of nonsense we are capable of without necessarily being  wicked people. Just that we inherited stupidity along with all other faults  from Adam.

Because it didn't make much sense to me up until this year.
I have several dads now. Some I pursued, some realised there was a need, like
Andrew Wan.
I think he took one look at me and decided.
'What a worm, it needs a can before the Malaysian heat burns it into a crisp.'

He warned me off indo mee.

In his words
 'You eat indomee everyday your brain dies lah. '
So he would go to the market and buy me proper bean noodles and whole grain rice.
He told me the cheap places to eat and told me how to cook Asian meals.
Then he gave me Chinese classics to read then he said I needed to learn Asian music culture. His friend Mr Lim had every time of music so I got my hands into that as well.

Me and some other chaps would get a ride in his car for meetings.

'Sisiliiia, you cannot wear black black all the time. You are black and  wear black also? A  driver cannot see you at night you'll get hit lah...'

So I gave up my grunge wear  to avoid death by car accident.

We would be gathered in his house for service meeting and he would be asking us, the college students.
'You have breakfast already or not? You want coffee? Your aunt made kway Teo you can eat some lah no need to be shy. Are you hungry or not?

And that is what I needed lah. In a period of my life when things were happening quickly and at the same time I needed a good shaking to start thinking again.

I got straight up counsel
I got told off
But behind that there was love. I could sense love.

He calls me his beautiful daughter.

And he doesn't let me get away with any nonsense.
I will post something stupid on Facebook and I will get a piece of his thinking.
qz
For over ten years I have always been assured that someone cares for me, deeply enough to watch my steps.
Deeply enough to explain family and societal relations to me.
Coz it can be taken for granted, that we will always know how to interact with family members and other members of the society.

But in a dynamic culture as the global one we are in, it's only a matter of time before you step on someone's toes.

He cheers me up with memes and health videos.
So this month, I have been really grateful.
He sends me a corona alert every day.
In paradise, I want a plot right next to him and his family.s would get a ride in his car for meetings.

'Sisiliiia, you cannot wear black black all the time. You are black and  wear black also? A  driver cannot see you at night you'll get hit lah...'

So I gave up my grunge wear  to avoid death by car accident.

We would be gathered in his house for service meeting and he would be asking us, the college students.
'You have breakfast already or not? You want coffee? Your aunt made kway Teo you can eat some lah no need to be shy. Are you hungry or not?

And that is what I needed lah. In a period of my life when things were happening quickly and at the same time I needed a good shaking to start thinking again.

I got straight up counsel
I got told off
But behind that there was love. I could sense love.

He calls me his beautiful daughter.

And he doesn't let me get away with any nonsense.
I will post something stupid on Facebook and I will get a piece of his thinking.
For over ten years I have always been assured that someone cares for me, deeply enough to watch my steps.
Deeply enough to explain family and societal relations to me.
Coz it can be taken for granted, that we will always know how to interact with family members and other members of the society.

But in a dynamic culture as the global one we are in, it's only a matter of time before you step on someone's toes.

He cheers me up with memes and health videos.
So this month, I have been really grateful.

He sends me a corona alert every day.
In paradise, I want a plot right next to him and his family.

MY STAY HOME remedies

I have added Vietnam to the list of places I want to go.
The cool in this Corona handwashing video is something I need in my life.
I haven't learned the dance yet. I know the lyrics though.

Go watch this video as you stay home stay safe.

I was starting to feel quite disoriented.  So I decided to come up with entertainment for my stay at home.


I watch Saturday Night live everyday.

and get all my Corona News from The Daily Show

I listen to Stay home parodies. Chris Mann just wants a burger with chips

This girl is torn: Her hands are dry.

I have learned how to make potato pancakes.
You have potato at home?
If it's windy and sunny, bring a hat and sunglasses.

Then I tried to learn how to make a wig but ended up learning how to make a butt lifter.

I like this girl's confidence

The rest of the time I am just laughing at mom memes.
Here:

https://www.instagram.com/p/B-nMzbOHfYI/
She is a mother of boys so it's  mostly farting stories.

and this one
https://www.instagram.com/closetoclassy/

I have been drawing with this girl here:
https://www.instagram.com/p/B-sTCszgJSF/

Your Shallow and Incomplete Guide to Cooking Food:

For people who are locked in and are worried about running out of food soon.

How to prepare nutrient rich green gram sprouts  (ndengu zimemea kiasi)

After a while  you get to that point where you have no idea what to cook.
I got to that point this week. I get hungry but I am not interested in anything I have been cooking.

I have also been thinking I need to pump nutrients into my body, as compared to just filling my stomach.

I am keen on what I eat but I am imagining a situation where I have to ration my food.
I trust in God to provide but even Noah kept some food to eat when he would be in lockdown.

Would it not be better if I figured out what food combinations in small quantities can provide me with at least a balanced a mix of nutrients daily.
Rather than ending up cooking ugali with a soft ugali for stew.

My neighbour gave me a bunch of greens from her garden. She knows ni kubaya.
So they are in the recipe.

 I remembered some green grams I bought a while back and was planning to throw out.

I don't cook green grams for the simple reason that I don't know which ones have less rocks and everyone claims to sell ndengu from Makueni.

The ones I buy  must be from Kwale.
They have at least 200 gms of small rocks and sand inside for every kilo.
Though this is a good time to clean them up and store them clean.

But I remembered I used to make sprouts. Then stopped when I read that they can cause food poisoning.

I did some reading and found out kumbe it's mishandling that causes e.coli to grow in sprouts.
A safe way to eat them is by cooking them thoroughly.

But do we ever eat salads willingly in Kenya? Let's see by a show of hands.

We are okay.


Sprouts have high percentages of protein, higher than the normal boiled ndengu.
In fact one YouTube video I watched claimed that sprouted ndengu have 50% more protein than when eaten as a regular lentil.

Gimme gimme some sprouts right now.

They also have antidioxants, vitamins and vitamins which you can Google later.

I cooked my sprouts for lunch yesterday and after eating I deliberately lay down to 'listen to myself' in case food poisoning was coming. I woke up to an alarm an hour later.

I still haven't  got any running stomach or reaction. So we are good.

Disclaimer: Sprouts, according to my taste buds are quite flat. But it's like how mothers always have githeri around the house in a big sufuria during school holidays so the kids can have something to keep their mouths engaged. So if you want taste, look somewhere else.


HOW TO

• Clean the lentils by picking out small rocks and the hard green grams.
• 
  
• Wash them
• 
  
• Soak in water for eight hours
• 
  
• Drain the water after the soaking
• 
  
• Transfer them into a dry container and cover it with a wet kitchen cloth.
• 
  
• Leave for another 12 hours.
• 
  
• They will start sprouting.
• 
  
• Wash them
• 
  
• Put them in a pot with a bit of water and cook for 10 minutes.
• 
  
• Add salt and turmeric.
• 
  
• After the 15 minutes I added oil, ginger, garlic and chilli  then cooked for another five minutes.

It was a bit dry yes so I had it with this superdelicious cup of peppermint tea.

I don't know if it's just me or is this quarantine making anyone else crave sugar?

But maybe coz I don't have many interesting things to eat in the house.

When you are walking about outside you come across yummy things like bananas and avocados from Mexico and njugu.
I walk around my house and all I see is dry foods that need to be boiled or roasted.
Also, should I be rationing my food intake? Should I limit my meals to one per day in case we are here until July?

I despair sometimes.
Then I go online and discover people like  Chris Mann and I'm not so frightened anymore. His vogue parody is the best. Check out his Hello from the Inside if you are going out of your mind.
I am
And I think it's good for me somehow.

I started responding to my neighbours efforts to talk.
Today we were planting ferns for a few hours with  my neighbours' kid.

I typed this yesterday.

We kept social distance. We sanitized and he was in charge of the soil, and I in charge of the containers.

He is more bored than me.
Everyone is bored.
But I think we are mostly just in a serious panic.

Next I'm going to have a wall of all the things that are keeping me sane this Corona Season.

I'll also look for more frugal living tips to help you maximise your lockdown supplies.

Dairy Farm Stories: A picnic

"She will love deeply -she will suffer terribly -she will have glorious moments to compensate - as I have had-" Emily of Newmoon.



I was feeling agitated and another feeling I wasn't sure of. Then it hit me that it was two weeks into the corona outbreak and my mother had not called to check on me.

My mother always called. Every bus crush on Mombasa road, or any Mololine just in case I had been on it. Every earthquake, every political upheaval, every collapsed house in Huruma, every matatu strike. She would call to ask If I was okay and if I hadn't heard about it why haven't I watched the news?

So I went to see my shushu.
I was scared she would ask me about my mother.

Here we are now having a picnic.
She is feeding the pumpkin bits to the dogs.
Or pretending to but she is observing me.
I'm startled when she commands me to stop being sad.
'Why do you sit like someone in great sorrow?'

'Oh,'  I say.
She goes on,
'You should not wear a sad face.'

'What of I am sad? What should I do?' I ask.
'You should look for something that brings you joy.' She says
I snap at her;
'But I am sad right now. If you were hungry and I told you stop being hungry without giving you food would your hunger stop?'

She says,
'People have gone through a lot of different pains. But they have endured.'
I know she is right but I don't want to hear it.

I want to tell her I cannot turn my feeling on and off like a robot..
I start to cry instead.
Because I shouldn't snap at my
 Shushu.
She has suffered greatly.
I also should know better.
I am on instgram learning about self care and grief and shadow work And all of that and I can read my Bible.

And in spite of her limited exposure to all of this she always really tries to understand, even when her mind fails her.

She has buried 5 kids and a husband and friends. She has been broke and alone and in despair but she is still standing. She is now a shell of her former self.
What really is Alzheimer's?
How can she know her daughter is dead but not know whether she is eating rice or githeri?

But her spirit is alive, strong and courageous.

'Happy are those who mourn. ' That's  what I should have told her.

Because if anyone deserves a better life it's my shushu,  and her family.
We have been down and under.
One rude shock after another.
When we are barely up we are again reminded of the taste of the ground.

Our humans and  our animals all suffer together.
Tom sees my tears and starts to lick my face with a broken paw on my chest.

Our now one eyed Tom.
He has taken hit after hit.
I Start to laugh.
Shush tells Tom
'Eheria Urimū haha.'


Then she goes off to pick up fire wood and I go off to clean up the dishes.
Tomorrow I will be in the happiest place in Nairobi.
Tomorrow I not wear a sad face.

Your Shallow and Incomplete guide to cooking food:

For people who are locked down and cannot run to the kiosk to get some fresh meat.

So we are just going to make recipes out of what is in the house.
Now that I am here. I have a craving for things I don't even eat.

Tropical sweets
Kdf
Cream cakes
Roasted Chicken feet

Yeah.

'Eating seeds as a pastime activity The toxicity of our city, our city.'

I can post another fried omena recipe for you. It's basically what I am eating this week. And beans. But beans are nasty. They make You second guess your digestive system.
Omena with Apple Cider Vinegar
Omena in milk
Omena with tomatoes only
Deep fried omena.

But we'll get creative. Three weeks is a long time to be within the home area.
I watched two and a half men burning  a carpet for an entire morning . A three meter pvc  carpet which would be insequntial in non-corona times but became the main agenda for these men today.

One of my neighbours got married into the next plot. She just moved one item after another with her baby on her back to her new man's house next door.

On Monday I had a rush of blood to my head. I thought of the overstretched time ahead of me. The hustler me who needs to go out every day to hunt and gather. The hasla me who isn't on a payroll and needs to harangue and think and think and think everyday how to keep surviving.

Then I stopped panicking, because it has been worse. And I have food, clothing and shelter.
And books, and hobbies, and friends and sanitizer.
And I haven't got my head buried in the sand.
I have made some plans in case this gets out of hand.
And I am in touch with those who matter.
But I cannot help it when my head is playing.

'We are going down sugar.
Sugar plum going down swinging'

Maybe I'll go back to growing sprouts.
And brewing fruit wine.
And sewing shapeless covers to cover things. From my old clothes.

I've checked on everyone.
I think almost everyone.
And I came up with a new list of the things that really matter to me in life.
I have summarised my basic needs to two major items
And three minor items.

We are assuming their is WiFi and and a garden outside.

1. A big kitchen with space for a radio and shelves and cabinets everywhere. Big extra large sinks with faucet taps. And solid work spaces I can sit on without freezing my bottom.

2. A  big spacious bathroom with big Windows that look out into a big expanse or a jungle. It should have a high counter for a music player. A big basket with hair and body washes and snacks.

My minor needs
1. Wheat flour
2. Tomatoes
3. Tea

Yes Suzie,I'm hungry again.

I know I need large Windows in my bathroom. Don't ask why. I just know.

Feed the birds. 

Celebrating One month anniversary.

Of not getting a tatoo.
And the only thing stopping me right now is the thought that if I save enough from the tatoo money I might be able to get myself a real silver chain from @wardrobebanter which I can pass on to my children  to teach them the value of self control.

I will give it to the boy. His name will be Craig, or David or Luke. Definitely Luke.
'He will be one of those quiet types who end up taking up a passion they would defend with their lives.
He will be short.  Not short average height, unless he takes after my grandmother.

The girl will take after the father, flashy and extremely  extroverted.  I will be a little afraid of her so I won't give it to her coz she will sell it to buy a bikini.

I will say to Luke.
'Luke my son, this is the reason I didn't get a tatoo when I was middle aged, may you remember this when you get tempted.'

For the longest time, I have wanted a tatoo. When most people are being  tempted by sex or trying to find a cocaine joint or drink themselves silly. I'm here visualizing how that barbed wire tatoo would look around my upper arm. I would never wear a coat even in cold weather.
Just prance around showing off my *mambobad side. Like a war an action movie hero or a black belt you know?
Any way.

After setting up a home for myself at Lytz salon for two months, we expanded.
We grew
Lytz Salon was a place where I walked around with my mouth gaping wide all the time.
The kind of styles that the hairdressers could pull off.
The level of skill that every single person whether a hair technician or nail technician had.
Everything was done with excellent skill within minimum time.

I Learnt that you've got to love what you do and you have to do it properly.

I managed to wiggle my way into Ralph's Hairworks with 1/3 of the former Lytz.

How to best describe @Ralph'sHairworks.

Is simply to say that : Here is a Hair Studio
Here we learn the art of hair.
Here we love hair.

Other people take hair as fashion or pop culture.
The difference?
When you look at hair as a fashion accessory then it doesn't matter what destructive products or washing technique you use as long as you get the desired finish.

Hair art is different.

Art means you respect the hair, because you are gonna need your hair after the shine is gone.

How I know this is it is at Raph's Salon where I was washed properly for the first time in a salon.
My hair didn't tangle and cut and the guy knew exactly what to do, and that was just, a by the way Cecilia let's wash your hair.
I felt like I needed to go round apologizing to all my clients for shampooing them the wrong way.
What was that?
*Cringe.*

Hair can be mischievous.
It gives back what you give it.
When you mistreat it, it gives you a bald head to deal with.
You've got to respect you hair for it to respect you.

Rhaph has a team of high energy specialists who all know what their job is.
I can judge the vybe of a place by the amount of art that I am able to create.
The month that I've been here I had drawn and sketched and written things and decorated and felt completely at ease.
It's an artsy vybe.

I am getting better at braiding, crotchet styles.

Not as great as @motimi2011.
I'll never come close she is on her own lane
With make-up as well.

So here we are:
Learning
Growing
Living
Kicking good butt and all of that.

And trying not to walk into the tatoo parlour. That I am staring at every waking moment.

And you are all welcome.
My first client Debbie. Thanks Debbie.

Mr Potato: My father, my brother, my friend.

When I started to work in Mr Potato's media house , I thought things were kinda slow.
I also thought I knew everything I needed to know because:Limkokwing.

I wanted things to move faster.
But Mr Potato always said: Skill before Speed.

And so I sat and read and read and asked and experimented and banged my head on the desk when things did not work as I expected and somehow I gained the skill.
And the speed came.

The three years I worked in Mr Potato's Media Productions Inc.were the best years of my life. I didn't think it then, but in retrospect. Having someone oversee your work when they know very well you are an idiot who has no idea what they are doing, and still be able to remain calm, while holding their hand to show them what they were supposed to do, that is a human skill that I don't think I posses.

But Mr. Potato would always listen, help you find deleted files, remind you of your limits but not with an iron fist.

His office was always open You could go anytime and he would stop what he is doing and offer you a seat. And maybe you just went in to ask him if he knows whether the Turkey served at the cafeteria is broiler or kienyeji.

One day I was feeling lost and confused and wanted to just quit, you know, and he walked with me to the rooftop of the towers and explained that what I was doing was important.

I guess mercy is what he had. And empathy. He was able to put himself in the other person's circumstance and instead of condemning an action, he would endeavour to understand what lead to it.

'Is Cecilia in a bad mood today because the matatu ride was rough and someone emptied their coffee on her skirt and perhaps she then met with her crush in the lift and now it's all gone up in flames?

She will be fine by 11.55.'


It was wonderful to work under someone who knew the job like the back of his hand. Ask him anything and he would help you through the job and check on you the following week to see if you finally got it.

It also made me at ease coz I knew if I messed up he would know and rectify. Ever worked for someone who has no idea what the job is about or even how it should be done?

Six months later your are still back and forthing like there is nothing else to do in this world.

Gosh there are so many things to be done in this world and the sooner we finish one thing the faster we get started on the next one.

That was a rant from an old frustration, nothing to do with Mr Potato at all.

But knowing that the person in charge could do the job better than me eased my mind and made me want to do it well enough.

He made it so easy to report yourself when you made a mistake.
I managed to lose files quite often, and I would go and report myself easily.

Mr.Potato had a highly intelligent sense of humour which took me years to understand. But his wife would tell us when it was a joke so we could laugh at the right places

We are still solid friends.

I think the most thing I appreciate about Mr Potato is his silence, sometimes silence in someone's  presence is more further reaching than a gazillion words.
 But
I also know that he is one of the most realest person who will tell you as it is when it needs to be said.
I thank Jehovah for Mr and Mrs Potato

This Chic : These Feelings I feel

I've always felt a wide range of emotions. I'm just beginning to understand them and give them a name.
Because of all this I some times get into tricky situations when I express a certain feeling to someone  or I interact with a person when I am feeling a certain way and they get the wrong interpretation and now I have to go and explain 
'No no I don't hate you. I just feel 'clouds' right now, it's not you it's me.'

"No no please I don't want to go out with you I just want to talk to you about plants.."
When I was probably just feeling 'ciders' for someone.
Sometimes I feel 'aeroplane mode,' and other times I feel 'Poems' for people.
I feel Poems toward a lot of people.
People who read books or draw or practice some form of art
People who are passionate about production not just consumption.
They are givers, not takers.

When I feel Poems for someone it means they will be forever in my heart. Like wild roses whose roots never die.
I will bring them out of my treasure box to admire them from time to time.

1. 
   

My aeroplane mode feeling is the practical side of me that decides in the morning : Whatever happens outside my soul, will no interfere with what I am inside.
No matter how many times I trip, if something good happened, I hold.onto to that like a blazing light.
It gets me through of my days

I realised a short time ago that I am one of those creations  that needs to find it's own coping mechanisms  because what is on the books was written for the greater masses who are content to go with the flow and I run against the current.
In realized people.donno what to do with me when maybe I'm feeling 'clouds' 
They May call it a mood swing and leave me alone.
Though I have two or three people who can tear right through those clouds and get me out
I think they are brave.
My clouds feeling a is dark and scary.' 
 When I feel clouds I want to be left alone because too much conversation may do two things 
Have me break into tears 
Or give you some tongue medicine which will have a bitter after taste.
This is one of my overwhelming feelings which irritate me because of how volatile it can make me.

So I go with the aeroplane mode feeling when with those who expect.me to be happy and cheerful and bubbly and positive. 
But with the brave ones, I just relax and let the emotions run.

I guess then this self awareness,  once I get to 50% might help me to balance out all these emotions.
I am grateful in spite of it.
It would be boring to just feel good or bad. 

Mary mother of Hope...

My friend Mary, she is the only one that calls me Sesilia. And she is right, I have never understood why I'm called Sissilia when there is a letter e as clear as a rain drop right there.

When Mary was coming up with her marriage vows, she had to include a Sesilia allegiance clause for her husband. It went like this.

'I, Gilbert take thee Mary as my wife, and also take Sesilia your single friend as my first born daughter/ small sister or whatever it is she is,  we shall figure it as we go along but I promise she is always welcome in our home.'

And they have stayed true to that promise. Mary and Gilbert's house is my second home. I know if  I called at 10 pm and said 'I'm coming', they would both get out of bed and come to wait for me at the bus stop.

Mary has a couch. And a flowered pillow. They are mine. That is the couch I go and stretch out when the world is dark and scary and I am let alone to only lift my head to drink tea, or acknowledge the entrance of another family member.

It's on this couch that I have told some confused feelings and received some straight up telling off.
Mary will stop rolling the chapati and point at me with the Rollin pin.
'SESILIA, you think a privilege makes a man? Eh? You think a good man is defined by his station? Ebu remove that from your brain. A privilege can be stripped off in a day '
Or that time I had this man at work trying to buy me a lot of good coffee.
And I told her he is really a good man.
Mary, pointing at me with that Rolling pin again said.

'How can you even think about it! I know being single can be hard but that one thing he is missing is the most important thing!'

Mary is one of those friends who picked me out of the crowd and pulled me to her side.
She has always put me by her side.

I appreciate her for how whenever I go to her house, it's like nothing else is important. I am the important focus for the day even when her husband comes, tired from work.

He will just go and sort his bath water and food and if there is no food he will cook it and feed the daughter and will not try to interrupt our discussions with his wife.

When my married friends go into the kitchen and leave me in the sitting room with the husband I want to pull my hair out because - me I didn't come to visit this dude- unless it's Moose or Allan 😅 those I can just pick up a book and ignore them.

When I am about to leave he will call Mary and give her some money and tell her to pack some shopping from their shop.

'Gilbert said I give you this for busfare.'
She will say and if I resist she will say.
'Us we are two, you you are alone, ebu take it.'

Mary bought me that skirt, she said it would be perfect coz I'm taller.

 Another friend bought me the top. They go well together.

He said, as we were walking along a street with some vendors.
'Ciss, wait,' Then he asked the vendor to bring down the top.

I was telling him some tale so I didn't realise he was getting it for me.
'Put this on,
Perfect,
How much?'

He paid and we continued walking.

I told him I felt like a cartoon character, the sharp collar. He asked which cartoon? I said the one with a blue evil guy with a hood sense of style. I meant Mega Mind.  When I got home  and looked in the mirror it was a perfect fit.

I love people who buy me clothes. Saves me a lot of trouble please continue.

So Mary is one of my favourite people.

Her family is my family.
When I texted her that my mother had died she came within an hour.

Then her husband called.
And their tiny daughter Hope asked to speak to me.
'Cecilia Poole,, ' she said.

Mary has a very developed sense of humour. I think she is then one person who can keep me laughing for a whole afternoon. You wouldn't think it looking at her sitting submissively between her husband and child on a Sunday, but you know that quote that says humour is not derived out of joy but of sorrow?

She is able to describe bleak situations in such a funny way you feel bad but you are laughing so you laugh and say pole at the same time.

That's the best way to approach hard times I think.

She also went through a series of frogs before meeting Gilbert and no matter how many times I hear the stories, which she will tell me as a warning, whenever I mention I might have met someone but I'm not sure, which is twice a year,  they are still pretty hilarious and I just hope I never meet one of her former beaus because I  will burst out laughing.

Her story about growing up in Ukambani then coming to try eke out a life in Nairobi is just as funny and should be recorded and read over and over on some evenings.

At this point I am wondering do I gravitate more to people who have had two or three life times squeezed into one?
I possibly do, theirs is much more to see.
Their daughter loves me more than I deserve. When Mary's love runs out, times when I have taken her for granted and she decides she can do without me as well. Hope will call me to ask when she can visit and give the parents no rest until a date is arranged.
She is such a cool kid. She can dance some moves I am yet to understand which part of the body has a joint which can twist in that manner.
They named her Clean Hope.
Not uncertain Hope.
This is the real deal.

I think the reason I have been okay with not having kids of my own especially at this crucial age is because of the ones I am allowed to have access to as an aunt. Hope, Amani, Nevin, Sophia. Nevin is a kid in my flat, he calls me mama Happy and because of him the other kids now want to rush into my house when I come in and a mother will be like.

'Acha kusumbua auntie! '
And the kid will be like ' si ni rafiki yangu.' As she continues to remove her shoes so she can run in to jump up and down on my bed.
I guess it amuses them that my kitchen and by living room and bedroom are all and the same thing. It's an adventure.


That is the story of Mary. We met in 2007, I hope to try and be a worthwhile friend in the days to come.

Finding God: The Sunday my Uncle went to Church.

He didn't go willingly. He was drugged in kicking and screaming by  two women.
The two most important women in his life, his mother and his wife.

A child had been born unto him,  A male child, and he needed a baptism of water before he was old enough to  learn how to sin for himself.

So my uncle had gone for a shave on the Saturday.
He wore a conservative jacket
And his Sportsman baseball cap sat tightly on his scalp.
A man reminded him to stash it into his pocket before entering the church.

That morning after Sunday school, I hang around  to see if he would really come.
When the adult trio, wife, husband, mother and infant entered the church gate I hid. I didn't want to be sent home.

He went through it.
Standing in front of the church and asking them to accept him as a member.
The infant got his baptism
And uncle got back to his Sunday routine.
That is: milk the cows, feed the cows, take a nap, milk the cows, feed the cows, then go to the local pub for a beer.

The routine hasn't changed for the last 25 years and he is an extremely happy man. He would be happier if people didn't complain so much about the two new nyama choma and beer joints recently opened.
Njogu-inī and Mbogo-inī
What is a man supposed to do in the evening after spending a day with cows?
A man needs his beer, his politics and his roast.
Or a man needs his whiskey,  his religion and his roast
And another might need his coffee, his music and his woman

This Chic: The Pursuit of Happyness

I'm happy, mostly.
I decided I shall not look for sorrow and sadness when I have the option to be positive and cheerful.

Sorrow will find you without assistance. So don't look for it

Pursue happiness.
You will find it.
Even in a messy and wrecked world there are bits of good to sustain us until the next thing to stagger us.

I have found happiness in looking fo r and celebrating the bits of positive vibe I see in people.
 Like my neighbour's singing. She has a beautiful voice, I should teach her my favourite songs then I can just listen to her across the wall.

I have found peace in accepting myself. The rough parts and the glittering parts.

I have found freedom, in expressing how I feel whenever, and for a few people who actually get me and my spacy way of defining this thing called life.

Most of all I am happy with myself for then choices I consciously make each day.

I have learned to recognize a good thing and to grasp onto it with both of my hands.

I have become aware of the people I want in my life. Sometimes it's me doing all the work but,
forget the independent self satisfying phrase - don't chase people you are worth more than that-

It's a lie.
Sometimes you have to chase people.
Because sometimes you need them more than they need you but in the end it's for you.

I am happy to have learned this now.

May I live many more days
To chase more people
To love  and care deeply even when it just me doing the loving and caring, to do my best to get out of my own castle and help others build theirs.

Because Jesus said it right.
There is more happiness in giving than in receiving.
May I have more time, more affection, more laughter and more heart to share with my fellow humans.
I am still a queen.
Perfectly imperfect
You can call me Virginia.

#queens
#positivity
#natural Hair
#Nairobi
#writersofinstagram
#sketches
#Africa
#truelovemagazine
#info
#inspiration

Personality Profile : Portrait of a Meditative African gentleman

This is my friend Muscle man.

He is the true definition of a meditative gentleman of average age.
You never really know what he is thinking so you just pick up a stick and prod him a little to get a reaction then run away.

Muscle Man is kind and generous and everybody's sweetheart.

He is the person who will hire a car and ask you 'Hey do you need to go see your Mum? I'm sending a driver to take you.'

When he laughs, it's careless and thorough.
I like his laugh.
When he dances, his body takes flight.

He has a fiddler's fingers, though he lifts metal all day.

But he is not all mushy and rose petals when serious matters arise.
You will stand at attention when he clears his throat.

Muscleman lives his life the way he has planned it. It doesn't matter what you think, that's your problem.

Several times in my eventful life my brain has shut down and Muscle Man has taken one look at me and seen: Gaka Kairītu nīgatukanīre.

(this woman is mixed up.)
And he did the thinking for me.

When my heart didn't know what to feel
He felt for me.

I'm grateful for friends who are really family.

Grieving : "I will go down mourning to my grave"

Kwani you are still mourning your mother?

That's the question.

I'd like to ask how long shoukd I mourn my mother? 10 days? A month? 6 months? A year?

I also want to say come back and ask me that question when your mother does but that would be rude and unfeeling and I have felt dreadful enough recently to wish it on anyone.

But each time someone asks me if i'm still grieving I really want to walk away.

Before I get out my guns and tell them to have a little imagination.

Truth is, you need a little imagination of you haven't experienced death.

Me, I have experienced it from all directions and it doesn't get easier.

It gets harder.

You get weaker.

You cannot handle funerals.

You avoid people who speak carelessly.

And basically you slowly put one step after the one in front and hope your God hasn't given up on you.

Personality Profile: Maureen Wa Shem

My friend has quit her Chinese Interpreting job to become a farmer.
I asked her so what kind of farming she was doing.

She said "You know, the usual
Spinach and a few kales."

But I met her a few weeks ago and she informed me she has started livestock farming. 
'Oh really? In the village? '
I asked
"No, just in my backyard"

So I thought possibly rabbits or chickens.
Then she showed me a video.

We were standing outside the Buruburu KH. It was the Sign Language Assembly and Maureen had come looking for me, she brought me lunch but didn't find me so she came back again.

This time we found each other.
And talked until it got cold.


My mother loved Maureen.

My grandmother loves Maureen
And everybody else I introduce her to ends up loving her because she is just that. 
A lovable girl
She is those kind of girls who always know how to talk politely to everyone, give advice without crossing lines, cook good food for a family, knows what spoons to use to serve a man, what dress to wear when.
What perfume to buy, what gift to give. She knows how to dance and even how to make liquid soap.

And most of all she knows how to keep a friend because if it was upto me we wouldn't be friends after all the stunts I have pulled over the years. 
Including poisoning her with a carelessly prepared meal, choosing a new friendship over an old one and just being a complete big eared bovine who doesn't know a good thing when it's staring right in her face.

When Maureen came home my Shushu  said:
 'In fact ,she doesn't behave like a Jaluo at all.'

A very high compliment from someone who only has interacted with other tribes through the radio.

And every other time she would ask me.

'Na Kaī kairītu karīa karata gaku kamūjaluo gatūire kū?'

That small luo girl who is your friend,  where is she now?

I told her she got a married

She exclaimed 'Then may God bless her,  even you now it seems you might find a husband too.'

That was a few years back.

Maureen is one of those friends who still kept me as a friend after she got married. 

I really appreciate friends who don't kick me out of their lives after marriage.
It's very hard for a single girl of 30+ to start making new friends.

But  I think the highest praise I have for Maureen is that she would never use information given in private for public use.

I mean:
She may know dirt about you but she won't use it to score points somewhere else.

(I don't collect dirt but dirt seems to find me and settle.)

She is that kind of confidant who doesn't harvest data from you.

And if she comes across it won't  repeat it somewhere  else.

That is class.

Mercedes-Benz kind of class.

I aim to be that kind of human being.

The one that puts over a blanket over another's shame.

The one who doesn't laugh at friend who decides to go out on a date outing with an idiot, just because she is 26 and 'oh God what if no one ever asks me out and then I am 35 and all alone in the world?'

I should have known I would be 35 at some point  but not all alone in the world. I'm not. I'm surrounded.

It turned into a disaster, the outing. The worst disaster you can imagine.

It rained heavily as well.

And all she said: "Don't blame yourself, you seemed to love each other."

And then she cooked the fish we had caught as I tried hard not to cry a lot for trying to fall in love.

Over the years. I have learnt valuable lessons from the slip of a girl.

1. In Kenya it's not simply about working smart, it's about working hard and breaking your back, then perhaps you might have enough to feed yourself.

2. Be nice to people. Be kind. Be polite.

3. Care about people. When her friend was sick, Maureen moved to her friend's house to take care of her friend for a month, while working a demanding job at a tour company.

4. Always dress right.

5. Have fun. No matter how bleak things seem. Go out, have chocolate, date someone, fly to China. Just don't drag yourself down

I'm proud of my girl.

And if you are a fisherman. She can hook you up with bait, bucketfuls of them.

@decathlon are you listening?

Midlife Crisis Ahead: Rip off the band aid my way

Someone, perhaps the most outspoken member of the family will say.
'Reke tucokoe ngatho nīguo tuohorane.'

And when they are done someone will finya kafefte in the palm of another's hand and they promise to see each other soon.
They have set each other free.
When you have to leave a place you have belonged to it takes all the energy you can muster up to make a clean break.   

Strands of the old place are intertwined with the fabric of your core and there is no way to extricate yourself without shredding living flesh.

How do you taken of a band aid?
What is your pain bearing capacity?
Rip off the bandage or slide it out with a bit of tincure?
Either way, When it's time to go.
Let's just give thanks and set each other free.

I am leaving a place I've called home for years now. Not in a huff puff walk out manner but in a well calculated shift that brings advantage to me.

Thankful for the gardens I planted,

My garden this season

thankful for the neighbours who didn't play loud music. Thankful for each phone call, text message, ride, hug, lunch, coffee and escort.