September 28

It's  Monday.  My phone tells me I have nothing planned for today.  

As usual, I receive daily job alerts.  One is for a sports teacher in Abu Dhabi and the other is for Head of Science in Bangladesh.  One day, I'll give them a go.

It's a strange day.  A film of grey hangs over everything.

I go to work.  John goes off shopping in his old shorts and T-shirt and his banana socks.

Ellie's school is on holiday this week, but Sian is still toiling away online and hating it. They will both go back to school properly on October 26.  Some classes will only go back on the 9th of November. The term threatens to be excessively long. Both girls want to be back at school.  Online learning has lost all appeal.

I have realised that, although it is good to live in the moment and not dwell on the past, or focus too heavily on the future, it is very important to be able to plan.  It is important to have dates in a diary, things to look forward to and some idea of what the immediate future holds. Many young people in particular have struggled psychologically with the future, not necessarily being cancelled, but being blank.

Bulawayo is beautiful.  It is like a picture being gradually coloured in: every day there are more and more flowers out in a whole range of colours.  One day a tree will have just a few flowers out, the next day more and the next day it will be in full bloom.  It is both lovely and fascinating to watch.

The frogs are back.

The water is off, but it will be back sometime this week.  The electricity is intermittent as is the Internet, but one gets used to it.

We have no one staying and no one booked.

I have finished my Allied Arts marking.

My extra lessons are drawing to a close.  The first English exam is in two weeks' time.

This week, we plan to put up the rain gauge.  Like everyone else, we hope for a good rainy season.  Rain makes everything better.

It is exactly a year since I started my blog.  It's been fun - difficult at times, especially when there was no one staying for months - but it's amazing what you can find to write about.  I began with the idea of writing about our experiences of running a B&B and I know I have gone way off topic, writing about a range of things from poltergeists to driving lessons and gardening and dogs and text language. . .

It is time now for me to take a break.  I am struggling with the amount of time I am spending on my laptop and my eyes are really suffering.  Unfortunately, I am wearing my glasses more and more and I am sure they will become a permanent feature soon. 

My second book, All Come To Dust, should be out before the end of the year.  I am happy that, thanks to covid, I managed to finish my third book and now have plans for a young adult book, but before that even reaches planning stage, I need to do nothing for a very long time.

Thank you to each and every person who has supported me for the last year.  I have really appreciated all the comments and feedback and thanks to all of you who shared posts or recommended my blog to your friends.  John, at least will be glad not to hear what he has been up to from readers of my blog.

Next year will be better.  Next year always is.

And, finally, if anyone wants to come and stay, and if I haven't put you off completely,you know where we are and you're always welcome.

September 27

John and I go for a walk at Hillside Dams.  The top dam has completely dried up now.  It is funny to think that we have been out on a boat on this same dam.  Although it is sad, I do believe life works in cycles and nothing lasts forever.  I have also seen both dams full to overflowing so I know it is possible that it can happen again. 

A church service is taking place in the cafe area and, as we pass by, the congregation are all singing away heartily.  At this point, Rolo decides to dash in and have a look around.  I can see some people looking quite alarmed and others mildly amused.  He is a big dog and is completely unaware of how intimidating he may look, charging past people and poking his nose in all sorts of places.

John tries to call him, without shouting over the hymn singing, and I am convinced he is eating the biscuits and sandwiches bought for the after-service tea.  A man brings him out for us and John gives him a fierce stare.

'This is no time to be looking for redemption, Rolo,' he hisses.  'Now get in the car.'

Despite my promise to myself that I would keep Sunday free of marking, I have to do some today. However, the internet is down and this year all the Allied Arts marking has been done online, so I can't do anything.  I am secretly grateful.

In the afternoon, John takes Sian and Ellie for a driving lesson and I make supper for the first time in weeks.  I just don't have the time to do it usually.  Thank goodness John can cook - he is much better than me - otherwise I don't think we would eat at all.

Of course, by the time evening comes round, the Internet is back.  Whatever happened to leisurely Sunday evenings?

September 26

For the past 15 years, I have been a marker for the Allied Arts Literary Festival.  The first year I did it, Sian was 6 weeks old and it was hell.  I had a couple of hundred scripts to mark and Sian did not sleep well.  I spent literally hours marking, but at the time the money was quite good.

I even marked when we lived in Zambia.  We usually came to see my parents in the August holidays and the scripts would be sent to them so they were ready and waiting when we arrived. I generally enjoy doing the marking and the extra bit of money is always welcome.

My family, however, have come to dread Allied Arts marking season as I get quite stressed.  There is always so much to do, and this year it has come at the same time that we are back at school.  I have two exam classes and they each write two essays a week so I am drowning in marking.

I actually spend the entire day marking.  John is out, fixing a parquet floor for someone and the girls binge watch a series that I think is called Glamour Girls, or something along those lines.  I think it is the equivalent of Santa Barbara - a terrible soap we used to watch every Friday night on ZBC.  The characters spent most of the time giving each other long, suspicious stares while the music built to a crescendo.  Scenes seemed to go on and on forever.  It was so slow, it was exhausting. A bit like marking.