Can I tell you how much I hate this new way you have to sign in to blogger.... uuurrrggghh.... i'm annoyed....

Ok, I feel like I have ranted enough in the title of this post as to how dumb it is to sign into this thing... geez, do they not want people to post anymore... cause I won't... no let's be real.. it's all hollow threats and we all know I would, and it wouldn't have been so hard if I just would have remembered my password... so, really, it's my fault... ok, bloggers not dumb, I am... are we all happy now...

Alright, this is what happend when you spend Sunday evening at home alone trying to avoid cleaning your room. You kinda go crazy... so sorry about that...

But I thought I should update a bit cause I haven't in a while...

I started to think about Africa the other day. There is a plethera of reasons I began to think about it really, it could have been the international worship service I went to where the African's sang and danced like nobodies mother, it could have been thinking of my friends who in Africa as I type, it could have been having our AIDS cordinator at MCC this week and being able to talk and hear stories of this dear place, it could simply be that it is cold here and I wish I were in Africa where it is hot. It could be a number of things really but the bottem line is this place and these people have been on my mind lately.

I started telling Erica a story that happened when Carly and I were in Tanzania and I found I just wanted to keep telling story after story. I think I have underestimated the way my short little visits to Africa have changed me. So here are some of the things I miss about Tanzania tonight:

I miss...
* eating ugali and beans all the time
* wandering with no agenda
* standing in the kitchen visiting with Mama
* the sound of latisha, our sheep, when it was lonely
* going pee in a squatty
* listening to rap music that was blaring out of the store fronts
* laughing with Anna
* playing chasing games with the kids in kili
* hearing the voices of kids singing and getting shivers up and down my arms
* being hot and sweaty
* standing up in the back of the truck when we went to and from town
* going to the market
* trying not to reck the truck as I drove it through fields and so called roads in the serengetti
* going to church
* being able to take pictures at every turn
* eating freshly roasted peanuts and coffee and milk in the morning
* speaking the few words of kiswahili we learned
* the way baba and mama took us in as their own kids
* laughing, laughing, and laughing some more
* the smells and sounds of the city
* the sound of the rooster's early in the morning
* just being there

And I could go on but I won't so here's a few picture of that wonderful time...
Someday I will go back and let it change me some more....