We have a very little shamba this year in the backyard that frequently requires watering so that our baby plants don’t just fry in the heat of the South. Jeff and I are all about keeping the sweet corn happy. The kids on the other hand, are just not grasping the plight of the heirloom tomatoes. So the other night we were all outside in our overalls pretending to be farmers…alright, we weren’t truly wearing overalls because it is way too hot for that over here, but I would if I could because I think it adds tremendously to the whole agricultural experience.
Predictably, Carter and Griffin got a little bored and started rolling down the very short, but very steep slope in our backyard. They were giggling with sheer delight over the super cool discovery they had made right in their own backyard and, amazingly, kept up the rolling for a solid 20 minutes…which is a really, really long time for a 2-year old and 4-year old to do anything, much less together and happily. As Jeff and I watched them, I couldn’t help but remember a very long, very steep slope in Kijabe in which I, your caring, compassionate sister, used to delight in pushing YOU down…repeatedly, over, and over, and over again for hours. Okay, it probably wasn’t hours, but considering how many times you climbed up the hill for more, it felt like it. I admired your perseverance then (partly because it kept me occupied and laughing many a boring afternoon, but also because it felt like fitting payback after having cars slammed repeatedly into my bedroom door at the crack of dawn on Saturday mornings), as well as your ridiculously good sense of humor about it - two wonderful character traits you have managed to retain throughout this; your three decade anniversary. I feel a little responsible for helping to plant the seeds of those good things in your life, but can’t help but notice you have never bothered to thank me appropriately. No doubt a lovely note will be in the mail tomorrow, right?
Happy Birthday, my dedicated, funny, long-suffering brother. Words cannot truly express how proud I am of you,
The sister who started it all,