The other day we went out for a drive in our new electric three-wheeler (big enough for the whole family, complete with a cute little basket, a tooting horn, and foot pedals to aid in the ascending of hills). Our first outing was to our seamstress, where we effectively ordered the rest of our bedding, a project which was put on hold when morning sickness gripped our lives this fall. Next we stopped at Dona Donuts where we piled our doughnut box full of cream puffs for me and doughnut holes for the kids. Then we came home, where the boys played with Play-Doh in the bay window and we all watched the demolition site outside, to a background of jazz music on Pandora Radio (coming very nicely through the recycled speakers Daniel installed in the corners of the living room). After that, we all enjoyed a lunch of stir-fried pork with green onions, chicken with carrots and peanuts, stir-fried broccoli with garlic, and lots of hot rice. There was plenty left over for dinner, so I didn't need to cook that night, which freed me up to practice my language on Rosetta Stone while Daniel was out meeting with one of his guys.
That day was like an out-of-the-blue greeting card from The Father saying, "I'm with you. I love you."
You will notice there is also a picture here of the makeshift, tin tunnel that the demolition guys constructed to get us "safely" from our gate to the road. "Safe" is a relative term here. On several occasions, a squatting figure from the top of the building would holler for us to wait before we walked through the tunnel, on account of some mangled wad of brick and metal about to crash to the ground. On one occasion, we watched from our window as all of the workers (half without hardhats on) climbed onto the bucket of the excavator and were lowered to the ground. It's amazing the things that would scream "lawsuit" in America, but here it's like, 'Hey, it gets the job done, right?'
p.s. A picture of all of us on our new three-wheeler is coming soon:)
