Zoe Fait La Betisse

"Zoe fait la betisse" is the local French term for "Zoe is being silly" or "Zoe is making silliness". She says is a lot, and usually with a great effervescent giggle, often with various other noises, and rocking the head back and forth like a broken metronome.

The first photo is her playing in my sleeping bag on a very hot afternoon; we had been airing it out after camping in Uganda.

The next is entirely her idea as well. We were airing out the borrowed tent (thanks, Sam and Lindsey!) a day or two later, and occasionally playing in it. After bath, she thought it a wonderfully witty idea to put her underpants on her head, and walk around giggling and tilting her head.

By the way, she LOVES camping. We are already working on getting a gigantic family-size tent and several other items for people who never pitch a tent more than a block away from their car. Actually, it's probably telling that I used a block for a measure of distance rather than miles or kilometers. We're talking easy camping. But if that's what it takes to get us out there, I'm for it.

The last two are a playdate with her friend -and close neighbor- Miranda. It should be noted that Miranda is one of her few American playmates. She's about 8 months younger, full of energy, not at all shy, and usually loads of fun. Despite their completely different temperaments, they get along really well.

By the way, I'm sorry it's taken so long for a post with actual photographs. I've got a little ways to go in finally fixing all the photo bugs, but it's still getting better. Hopefully another post is coming soon.

More March Haiku Book Reviews

The Voyage, by Robert MacNeil

Francesca, David,

Love, betrayal, confusion,

sailing off the map.

Morality for Beautiful Girls, by Alexander McCall Smith

Rra Matekoni,

depressed, Mma Makutsi leads,

poisoner foiled.

The Devil in the White City, by Erik Larsson

Doctor H. H. Holmes,

spellbinding, sociopathic,

serial killer,

World stage, Chicago:

The Columbian World's Fair,
Massive ambition,

The two together:

operatic in scale,

Surprise! Nonfiction!

The Kalahari Typing School for Men, by Alexander McCall Smith

Another venture

for Mma Makutsi and boss,

Botswana's ladies.

Haiku Book Reviews: March (so far)

I'm trying to create a new category with no pressure for photos, in order to get me writing more often. Hopefully this will trigger a habit of more frequent posting.

The Last Days of the Incas by Kim MacQuarrie (audiobook)

A tragic story,

no beginning or middle

Spaniards win. Too bad.

Vector Prime (Star Wars: New Jedi Order) by R. A. Salvatore

Luke, Leia, Han et al:

Jedi teens in tow, they fight

alien villians.

For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway

Robert Jordan in Spain,

American Guerilla

lost in love and war.

Tears of the Giraffe by Alexander McCall Smith

Mma Ramotswe back,

fiance and adopting,

old mysteries solved.

The Mummy Case by Elizabeth Peters (audiobook)

Emersons with son

Ramses, ancient papyrus,

Gospel of Thomas.

Haiku Book Reviews: February

The Curse of the Pharoahs by Elizabeth Peters (audiobook)

Valley of the Kings,

Emersons set forth to dig;

rumors of curses.

Ratio: The Simple Codes Behind the Craft of Everyday Cooking by Michael Ruhlman

Simple numbers show:

how chefs take ingredients

and give us cuisine.

Dixie City Jam by James Lee Burke (audiobook)

Thoughtful and slow tale

of New Orleans and Nazis:

gumbo of suspense.

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

Long exposition,

Jekyll's friends worry, as Hyde

takes control; tragic.

The Blue Zones by Dan Buettner

Four groups of people,

Living long and happy lives,

what are their secrets?

Book Review Haikus, Vol. 1: January

A Study in Scarlet by Arthur Conan Doyle

Watson, vet adrift,

takes roommate; murder most foul

long adventure told well.

Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson

Poor Jim: sailing on

to Skull Island, John Silver

and danger abound.

Crocodile on the Sandbank by Elizabeth Peters (audiobook)

Amelia P.,

Spinster with strong mind and will,

to Egypt and love.

I will add that I loved all three of these. The third is the first in what is now a series of 19 novels that I think will be considered classics of historical mystery-adventure fiction. I've read more than half of these, and probably all of the Sherlock Holmes stories, though am going back over them again.

Camp Life

We went camping this past weekend in Akagera Game Reserve in Eastern Rwanda, on the Tanzanian border. It took about 2 hours, 20 minutes to get to the entrance, where we checked in with the rangers and gave them a lot of money. Then we drove a few hours in the park to get to our campsite. I don't know if Andrea or I have ever driven on anything remotely as rough or difficult. We really maxed out our big-ass 4X4. The park roads really suffered from lack of maintenance; in fact they often were nearly unidentifiable.

Anyway, we got to the campsite and had to hack down the grass with machetes to pitch tents. The conditions were pretty rough for a campsite; no latrines, fire pits, or picnic tables. We found a dead tree 500 meters away and hacked the largest branches off to throw on the top of our friends' truck before towing the rest of the whole tree back to camp. We had the grandaddy of campfires until late at night, then stoked it up in the morning for a short spell, and still left plenty for the next folks there. That night was the brightest moon of the year (so the astronomers say), and we enjoyed it eating good food, drinking wine and good single malt among one family we were already friends with, and another we now count as friends. And these people know how to camp in luxury, though the conditions were quite primitive. It was so bright and the fire so warm we could have stayed up all night talking. It reminded me of camping in Alaska in July.

The next morning after breakfast, we packed and drove around looking for game. We went to Plage Hippos (Hippo Beach), where we weren't disappointed for hippos, crocodiles, or waterfowl. We saw giraffes, roan antelope, cape elands, impala, a few other antelope types, a small family of baboons, and zillions of birds. We heard hyenas by moonlight, and saw spoor and tracks of elephants, but no such beasts. Maybe next time. When we returned home that night we were utterly exhausted but very pleased. Zoe has asked three or four times about the next time we go camping. I think for her it's all about roasting marshmallows, being together with friends and family, and seeing animals. Who's to argue with that?

A Quiet Afternoon

While we were in Minnesota over the holidays, we made our home base in the cozy little bedroom with bath in my parents' basement. However, Zoe did have many great days at Andrea's parents' (Nana and Ata) house during the days when Andrea and I were running errands all over the Twin Cities. They spent time with LEGO, playing with Christmas decorations, cooking, and with Ata's painting lessons, which Zoe loved.

During our time home, Zoe only took one or two naps per week, which was frustrating for all, as she had been taking 5-6 naps per week before coming home. Every day we were in a place where nap time was possible, we tried to push a nap, but not always with luck.

One afternoon at Nana and Ata's, after a nice lunch, Ata brought Zoe to their bed, and read a few stories to her quietly. He told her that it was a good time for a nap. She denied she needed one. He lay with her quietly for awhile before she started to get a little antsy, then suggested that they take a nap together. No way. Finally, Ata thought he would appeal to her need for cuddling and closeness, as well as her need to take care of others. He told her, "Zoe, I need to take a nap; I'm really tired." They laid together silently for a few minutes, then she slowly and quietly snuck out of bed, left the room, and carefully closed the door, before going downstairs to play with Nana.