The next few weeks

I hope Chiato delivers her kittens before we leave! It would be so fun to meet her kittens and get to name them! But we'll just have to be patient, I guess. You can probably induce kitty labour, but I don't know anything about it, and since I don't want my kitty to end up with a kitty C-section, I'll just wait patiently, thank you very much.

Well, we're very nearly "all packed," which is not at all the same thing as "ready to go." There are still piles and piles of stuff in our house that I'm not sure what to do with. A lot of it is good stuff that I'd hate to just throw away. But to whom shall I give it? I have another whole box full of borrowed items that we need to return. And then there's our few dishes and silverware that we've held onto after selling the rest. There are still pieces of furniture - our dining room table, living room furniture, two bookcases, David's dresser, and our "hanger" (wooden structure for hanging our clothes, since we have no closet) - and all of David's stuff, which he refuses to pack until the last minute. When I asked why, he said he didn't need to pack any earlier. "But what's the advantage of waiting?" I asked, to which he responded, "Because I can." Ah, of course. Very logical.

We plan to send most of our things down to the capital on Tuesday with a neighbour who's traveling with an empty van. She'll leave the luggage at a guest house for us to pick up on Saturday when we get a ride with other friends. At least, this is what we hope will happen. This is Nigeria, so we must expect that several things will change between now and next Saturday. Assuming all goes reasonably well, we'll spend our last three days in Abuja and fly out next Tuesday, the 27th, to arrive in San Diego in time for dinner on Wednesday the 28th. Wow. It's so crazy I don't even know how to comprehend it all.

From the 28th on, things get pretty hazy. Our top priorities immediately will be getting a cell phone, a car, and David's driver's license. Then we job hunt and finish our applications to schools for David to do a one-year nursing degree. If he gets a fabulous job, we won't go to school, but if we get lousy jobs or no jobs, he'll start school in August. (At least, we hope so.) Where? Good question! No clue. It's all pretty fuzzy. Oh, and what will we do until August? Again, no idea.

Some people have commented to me that they're so moved by our leap of faith, but I'd better clear that up right now. There's nothing moving or spiritual about this for me. There should be, but I am one of the greatest worriers of all time. I can't sleep at night for worrying about everything. David, probably, has huge faith in a benevolent God and knows that everything will turn out all right. And I know it in my head, too. My heart, though, is all twisted up in knots about this venture. So don't even think about applauding my faith. I don't belong on a pedestal. Please take me down!