Tomorrow I leave Matumi. In good hands. Gazani and Ponani packed all mom and dad's photos and statuettes and pictures and personal items away to be stored in the cottage. Still the house is full of things. I still have to email everyone with thanks and send them on our addresses and phone numbers in London. I donated all mom's medicines to Mary at the hospice and I swam in the pool in a storm about half an hour ago. I've cooled off a bit from the heat, but I'm getting a little tense now, for some reason. Tomorrow the stone masons come and fix a large plaque to a huge, strategically placed, flat sided stone. Then I am off with Leigh to the airport. * * * I wandered around the house for nearly a week. I found some lines dad had written on the fridge. Dad's lines seemed to sort themselves out into two poems. Mourning in fridge magnets We have arisen from our cooling bed. Together we dressed. We are powerful And robed for our departure Feeling Languid We await
Left wing commentary from the heart and the head