Cat Sitting Day 4

For anyone who cares, Zoë is finally getting along with our imposter kitty (who remains nameless). They chase each other's tails, growl over the same bowl of food (hello! I filled two bowls!), and pounce on each other at odd moments. I think the kitty is finally realising who's the boss in our house!

How can I keep this new kitty from jumping on the table during meals, without actually putting him away into another room? Will he never learn? Any hints?

This photo was not staged!

The week without Lydia

Lydia's been gone a week today.

It's been a hard adjustment. I've said goodbye to so many babies over the years--the most painful of which was to Aaron in August 1991--but as I get older, I remember better, I think.

All right, so I clearly remember saying farewell to Aaron 16 years ago. I was nine then, and he had just turned two. It was a Sunday afternoon, if I remember correctly. And when we left the apartment building in which his mother lived, he was wailing. We were all falling apart in one way or another. And on our way home, we got into a car accident. Lisa broke her nose... It was just a bad day. I often wonder how Aaron is these days, if he's even still alive, if he's in jail...

Anyway, I'm pretty sure Lydia will do all right with her new family, but we sure miss her. So many times I've tried to put into words why and how we miss her, and what in particular we miss. But words fail me, and I just have to sigh. I've been a foster sister since 1987. Twenty years. Wow. And soon I'll be a mom and will not (Lord willing) have to say goodbye to another baby anytime soon! This baby will be mine (on loan from God) for keeps.

My first accomplishment!

Work pays off! It really does!

Yesterday, my boss brought over a brand-new copy of the first book I really worked on intensively for ACTS, Legacy of Wisdom by Daniel Bitrus. It's a collection of African stories and proverbs, mostly to help with sermons, but also just interesting (and funny) in general.

It's SO exciting to see the fruit of my labours! Woohoo!

I've already found a typo, but... you just can't catch them all, can you??

Okay, I'm finishing up now. Baby is distracting me with his kicks, or punches, or whatever they are!

Cat Sitting - Day 1

My friend Sara is accompanying her husband Sunny on a three-week business trip, so I volunteered to watch her new kitten for the duration.

Was that wise?

Well, offering to watch the poor thing was undoubtedly a good idea. Her neighbours have small children who might have terrorized the kitty if they’d had the opportunity to “take care” of him. But the easiest thing—and here’s the rub—was for me to bring the kitty home with me while Sara’s gone.

I know, I know. Cats have a hard time getting along. But I know lots of people who have multiple cats, and didn’t necessarily get them at the same time. So it has to work out, right?

Or am I wrong?

Zoë really doesn’t like sharing the house. The only thing I can think to compare it to is that Zoë is the uwargida (matron of the house), and is treating this “imposter” kitty like a new amarya (bride). As though I’ve taken two wives, and the senior one is treating the junior one horribly! (The analogy doesn’t quite work, as the kitten is probably male, but that’s not the point.)

My question is…will they get along eventually? Or will Zoë continue to hiss and growl every time she sees the kitten for the whole three weeks? Should I try it for a few days and if it doesn’t work out, take the kitten back to his home and just feed him there every day? Sara’s house isn’t far; only a 15-minute walk. But the kitten will get pretty lonely in that apartment all by himself.

Also, because this kitten is only about nine weeks old and very recent to Sara and Sunny, he/she/it still doesn’t have a name. Should I go for the next three weeks calling it, “Kitty”? Or should I give it a provisional name? I haven’t really thought of anything suitable yet anyway (considering they’re not sure it’s a boy), but I can’t imagine just calling him, “Kitty” all the time.

So I throw my hands up in the air and wait to see what happens next.

Another trip to the VIO office

I was still in bed when David came to get me yesterday. Yes, it was about 10:20, but I was still in bed with a wretched cold. I was miserable--coughing, sniffling, head throbbing--but I dutifully climbed into the car and went with David to the VIO office. After all, they'd said to come again Friday to get my photo taken.

We had to park a "block" away from the building (there aren't really any such things as blocks here, but you can imagine the distance). The traders on the corner all called out to me as we passed, but I ignored them. My brain wasn't functioning well, as it was. We climbed the steps to the building that hosts the VIO office and internal revenue services. David had to practically drag me part of the way. When we arrived in the road safety office, where they would take my photo, they had me sit in a chair facing the camera. David's contact informed him that his license was ready to be picked up, so David went back to a different office. After he left, the VIO people asked me to move to a different chair; I was apparently sitting in the photo chair. So I moved over to a desk with two chairs, and sat beside a woman who had a stack of forms. I couldn't tell what she was doing exactly, but it seemed that she was copying information from the forms into a heavy ledger beside her. I didn't envy her. I put my head down on the desk and waited for instructions--or for David, whichever came first.

After twenty minutes, David arrived back. He showed me his license--which looks pretty spiffy, I have to admit--and was told they hadn't found my form yet. So David went over to a desk and was given a stack of forms to look through. After another five minutes or so, he came across my form and handed it to the officers. After they took a young man's photo, they asked me to sit back in the photo chair. Ten seconds later, they asked me to move again, without having taken my photo. Another man sat in the chair, was "snapped," and then they asked me to sit in the chair again.

The woman asked me to look in the camera, and she snapped me. I didn't know whether to smile or not; most formal photos here are absolutely-no-smile shots, so I tried to look pleasant without exactly smiling. Of course, I felt like I'd been run over by a truck, so how could I look pleasant, in truth? But I tried. I got up, signed my new signature on the electronic pad (I was really impressed by all the computer equipment at that desk!), pressed my right thumb against the electronic reader, and waited. She sighed and asked me to sit down again. It took two more tries before she got a decent photo of me because people kept walking across the room as she snapped the photo. Finally, she said I could go, and David and I left. We walked back to our car as it was starting to rain, and it rained until after 19:00. David's VIO contact called in the afternoon to say my license was ready for pick-up, but we said we'd collect it Monday.

So on Monday, I should have my Nigerian national driver's license!! (SHOULD...)

Lydia leaves

Baby Lydia, who's now 5 months old and came to live with my parents the day she was born, left today. Her adoptive parents are an ECWA couple who are moving from Zaria (a few hours' drive) to Jos. Her father works for People Oriented Development (POD), the part of ECWA that concentrates on rural development. Her mom is a scientist who works in developing leather products.

Mom and I took Lydia down to the ProLife office at the hospital around 2 o'clock this afternoon. After a few speeches and two short prayers, we handed Lydia over to her parents and said farewell. Mom's heartbroken--as you can imagine--but seems to be holding up well. It seems so strange to have an empty stroller, empty carseat, empty bouncy seat, etc. I will miss little Lydia, too. I'll miss feeding her, holding her, playing with her, singing to her, rocking her to sleep. She's been such a joy to have in the family--a real sweetheart who smiles all the time and has a generally bright disposition. And after five months, even David had become attached to her! We're hoping that since Lydia's new parents are moving to Jos, we'll be able to see her for visits occasionally.

On a lighter note, David and I took another trip to the VIO office this afternoon, on a phone call tip that said I'd be able to get my photo taken. The officers are no longer on strike. But the officer in charge said I could only get my photo snapped on Fridays. Aha. Right. So our fourth trip to the VIO office was entirely unproductive. And with petrol like gold these days (see later paragraph), it was a sad waste. But nothing here works as it's supposed to, so we're really not surprised.

On the way back from the office, we passed a motorcyclist wearing a helmet--the first I remember ever seeing in Jos. Granted, it was a yellow hard hat with a visor (that was, of course, raised). But it was a helmet! Later on, we passed two men on a motorcycle, with a black dog running behind them. I thought at first the dog was local and just following, but no, he was leashed to the passenger! As we passed, the motorcycle stopped. David and I figured the man had been carrying the dog, and the dog had either fallen or jumped out of his arms. But it sure made a funny sight!

Our petrol (gasoline) situation has been increasingly dire over the past week or so. I don't follow the news, so I don't know all the details, but there apparently is a strike among the oil workers down south, which means there is no fuel available at the filling stations. What fuel is available (elsewhere, mind you) is drastically increased in price, and even then it's almost impossible to get. *sigh* Life here is never boring!

Mama's Choice Chop

Guess what! I just had a brilliant idea. I'm starting a new blog for MOM, and it's going to be a recipe blog. Every few days or every week, we'll put up one of Mom's favourite (or our favourite of Mom's) recipes. I'd love suggestions for how to make the blog better. Check out the first recipe at http://chefblyth.blogspot.com (link now in my Links on sidebar). If you have recipe requests, especially, we'll cater to your comments. :)

On working retreat

As I walk along the path, a breeze dancing in the trees and tossing stray strands of my mousy hair, I can understand why people come here on retreat. The compound is surrounded on three sides by luscious green hills (that turn brown in the dry season). If you sit still, you can hear birds whistling in the trees, and even the flies buzzing around the mangoes rotting on the ground here and there. Now that it’s getting dark—the sky is predominantly mauve at the moment—I can also hear the bats shrieking, cicadas humming, and crickets chirping. What a cacophony! And yet the sounds are soothing, restful. I can hear no nearby church blasting out a worship service on their super duper sound system; no horns blaring; no trumpets or drums; not even an imam calling the faithful to prayer. Only the sounds of nature pour through my open window as I sit on the bed in my private little room.

I’ve been here 33 hours, and right now I feel supersaturated with scripture. I think if my mind tried to wrap itself around one more Bible verse, I’d just explode. Why? Because I’m here to work; that’s why. My work involves the Bible, and for that I am truly thankful. My supervisor/coworker Adena and I are out here in Miango to work. We’re developing a Sunday school curriculum for teenagers, and our primary goal on this retreat is to outline the 52 lessons for year one and find helpful resources for our writers. “Resources” includes not only the Bible—which we’re being very careful to use wisely and in context—but also perhaps two dozen books, from Josh McDowell’s Why Wait? about premarital sex all the way down the spectrum to Caution: Dangerous Devotions by Jackie Perseghetti. These books are fantastic. Okay, granted, I haven’t read any of them. But they look fantastic!

I clearly remember my teen years, seeing as they were pretty recent. I remember the struggles I faced and the hopelessness of having no answers. I remember being lonely, being laughed at, being depressed because no guys liked me (and because Sunipa always got higher scores than I did!). I can still feel that pain. So I’m hoping that gives me insight into structuring these lessons. Dude. Teens need help. That’s all there is to it. .

But tonight, having completed 42 of our 52 lesson sketches, I am indulging in a bit of relaxation. In fact, I’m not sure what to do with my time! I brought with me a book of science fiction short stories (thanks, Grampa!) I’ve dipped into (yes, I ended a clause with a preposition, so sue me!), and Harry Potter and the Chamber [dang blast these mosquitoes!] of Secrets. (I’m trying to read all six before my friend Christine brings me book seven at the end of July.) And I brought three movies—The Princess Bride, My Big Fat Greek Wedding, and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I have a notebook and pens. I even have my husband’s (well, “our” since mine died) computer. (Did I mention he traveled to Ibadan in southern Nigeria for a medical conference? He’ll be back tomorrow night.) I’ve almost finished a story I’ve been writing on his (our) computer, so I could finish that, if I can figure out how. On the other hand, I’m hoping Heidi—whose family is spending a week here on vacation from Kano up north—will pop in and invite me to play Settlers of Catan. (Yes, I finally learned it and love it!) So who knows? I’m tired of working [why are there ants on my bedspread!] but am invigorated by having spent the whole day immersed in God’s word! Wow!

Well, I think this post is done. Time to rest my weary carpal-tunnel-ridden hands!