Jambo, Slimbo

As we slowly slowly* settle into our de-lovely house, we're going through the boxes of salvaged stuff that I hastily stashed upstairs in those frantic, wretched weeks after the storm, and to our pleasant surprise**, we're discovering various beloved items we thought we'd lost—including photographs.



Here's wee little Yours Truly in Nanyuki, Kenya back in 1976 or so. I believe those are my mother's sunglasses. Sharp. (I find it funny that I dress pretty much the same today as I did thirty years ago—except for the short-shorts. No short-shorts.)

* Kids make everything hard. (Damn them and their ceaseless need for attention, love, and sustenance.) On any given Saturday or Sunday, we're lucky if we get a good hour of unpacking done. When's that Nanny-Bot going to be perfected?

** Given the circumstances, this confusion was to be expected. After a week of slopping out the sodden muck, I had about two hours to pack up what was left, and my storage system was less than rigorous. Everything that wasn't moldy got tossed in a bag or a box and hastily toted upstairs to the two undamaged rooms. (The demitasses spent the past year and a half in a garbage bag in the bathtub. Remarkably, they seem to be just fine.)