I'm in that other kind of limbo state known to frequent travelers- packing hell. Packing hell occurs during the mid-state of packing, when all the little random items begin appearing and mysteriously multiplying. It's that point in time when you feel like you are spending all of your time packing, and boxes are getting filled- there's a pile to prove it- but you can't tell if you're really making progress. Perpetual packing aka packing hell.
Which is why it's no surprise that the highlight of my week has been falling in love with a new ab machine at the gym and making this delicious healthy treat at home. I've managed to stay away from them for the last 30 minutes, but I am not sure how. Distraction is my only savior.
It's a pleasure to find an easy recipe that I have all the ingredients to. In preparation for Mali, I am trying to remember all the things we made from scratch in Kinshasa. I have no idea how sparse it will be, but I do have a recipe for crackers. Your basic Saltines. That's how bad it's been. Baking is a pleasure though, something I am trying to remember on these gray rainy days. (And happily, there are even people in the house to eat it now, freeing me from that pressure.)
But it's entirely possible that I could be back to making tofu and soy milk straight from the soybeans, or souring my own yogurt on a weekly basis. I am not really sure what to do about the rumor that I won't find tahini there- we are all pretty addicted to yogurt-tahini salad dressing. And tuna mix. And carrot dip. And even straight spoonfuls. Mbalia favors it as an all over body lotion.
Luckily, the Minimalist Baker has me covered on that front as well, though I'd need to invest in a food processor. I am looking forward to a real kitchen to bake in. Inspiration is so much easier to find when you have a counter.
For now, though, we are all here trying to weather these cool, gray days. In France, I remember feeling shocked at how late the sun set. It really was 10:00 at night before the skies began to darken. While the first day was disorienting, soon enough it felt like a gift. I was a little kid with permission to stay up all night. There was so much to see and do and suddenly, a billion extra hours to do it in. I could use a few of those hours now.
Back in Abidjan, the sun faithfully sets every day at 6:30. By 10 o'clock, the night feels hours old and morning seems just around the corner. I'm trying to be the minimalist packer, but I know that it will be comforting to have our familiar things. Luckily, we are able to ship by land this time. I still have nightmares about the move here. I can't believe how much we brought by plane.
I will be happy not to be writing about furniture dreams or which clothes wash best by hand. I am excited by the prospect of travel, and newness and learning. There is nothing like a good adventure for inspiration.
