Time for some old pictures while, rarer than Tanzanite, I have a spare moment with both babies asleep. I have so much to say and I really really don't like neglecting this ol blog of mine but right now the reserves don't stretch that far. A two and a half year old and an eight week old - I'm sure you could market them to army training camps or something, to test people's stamina and ability to cope under duress. Didn't someone do an experiment once with olympic athletes and two year olds - and the athletes couldn't keep up?
Aaaanyway. Crocodiles. I scroll through my album of old pictures looking for something that may be of interest and find these two.
The old foundations in the middle of our camp never got built on. They had dreams of being a house I guess but in the end but were only ever a sandpit for us kids, a training ring for Widdle the warthog, the origin of the name 'the ruins' for our camp (which confused many a baffled tourist) and, at one point, a home for my uncle's croc eggs. I'd spend hours watching those damn eggs, waiting for that squark-squeak of baby croc breaking through. Oh the excitement! And then I'd ever so gently help them out of the leathery egg and try to keep away from their pin-sharp teeth. I'd made one bite me once just to see. And never did that again!
These baby crocs are fine, pretty cute, even. But when I was littler my small friend Salimu was washing clothes in ankle deep water in the river with his family and got taken from right under their noses. I can still hear the wailing of the women reverberating around camp. They shot the croc and found him inside, in three neat pieces. The croc was massive, laid out on the concrete slab behind the Chibembe kitchen with a big stick propping open its jaws.
we've been having these major dust storms of late. hard to see from our window but normally you can see HILLS far and wide. rain's have started tho - so that should put and end to that for the next few months - yay!