We have made friends, from the Balkans, from India, from Vietnam. And we run into them everywhere.
The days are a haze of house and grounds work. There is no real urgency, we have all summer, but I insist on maintaining a field hospital pace, I cannot stop.
In the next few months I want to swim in the sea (we are only fifteen kilometers away), ride a horse, and reap a harvest from the fledgling garden (seeds are in the ground). If by summer’s end the girls can learn to tie their shoes and button/unbutton without sighing for help, I’ll be thrilled too. Having a maid in Singapore is a delight but a bit of a handicap. Then again, it might be genetic. A. cannot seem to finish washing all the dishes, no matter how few are soaking in the bin, but he beats his own back with stinging nettles “for better circulation,” raising welts, the Russian! And runs Nordic marathons.