Friday night in Monrovia, alone in my windowless hotel room with a weekend of work to look forward to. Boo.
Find myself wishing I could wake up tomorrow at seven to sun streaming in the window, putter around the garden for a while then make Saturday pancakes (with extras, of course, for Phinious and Smith). I’m already missing out on things: Ariel’s first day at New Statehouse, volleyball practice, sundowners at Keith & Melody’s, the first real rains, opening day at Game Lilongwe, zucchinis sprouting in the garden…. It’s still a far cry from our well-worn groove in Boston, but being away makes me appreciate how quickly we’ve begun building routines, networks, friendships. And I find myself eager to get back.
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