our other children . ..

Our guest left this morning - rested, loaded with home-cooked food, new tire spokes on his wheels and warm/water proofed boots on his feet.

Anne and I walked to the market to get some food.  I warned Anne that I didn't have much until we get paid three days later, and she understood.  Our fridge was cleaned out and we blew our grocery budget for January somewhere around December 31st.  We picked up some vegetables, milk, eggs, and various things and somehow bought everything we needed with every last lire in my wallet.

Gokhan showed up at the market just as we were finishing.  He had 10 lire and had come to buy eggs.  I was a little shocked to see him so soon, he had an interview that morning and he seemed excited by it.  His timing was perfect to help carry the groceries back.

We all went to work when we got home.  Well, all of us except Baba.  Baba was sleeping on the couch.

Anne started cooking food, Gokhan vacuumed the living room, and I began sweeping, mopping and scrubbing all the soil left behind from our world traveler.  At some point, Baba got up, dressed, and went out.  He usually goes to the cafe next door to sit with the old man and chat over tea.  This time he came back a half-an-hour later with more groceries.

I was kind of mad.  We had been tight all month with food, I just spent every last lire I had, and here he had some money and showed up with more groceries.


Baba sat at the table overseeing the cooking, and pouring his parsley tea water into jars for drinking later.  I read you are supposed to boil parsley for 5-10 minutes, but Baba boiled it for over an hour, then let it sit overnight to cool.  I continued cleaning and Anne continued grunting over the stove.  When she is working hard she has the bad habit of holding her breath and so alternates between not breathing and grunting.


Anne finally finished her cooking and went to lie down.  I finished my cleaning and was about to do the same.  Baba was still rooting around in the kitchen, and opened the fridge to fast.  The glass bottle of fresh milk fell out of the doors and shattered on the floor.  Baba was mad that someone put the milk in the shallow door shelf.  I was mad that the milk I just bought with my last money was now gone.  Anne was mad that she had to clean it up.  (She wouldn't let me and Baba was still kind of standing in the middle of the spilled milk not sure what to do.)  I hadn't mopped the kitchen yet, but had the bucket prepared already - Anne cleaned it all up then dumped the dirty mop water in the bathtub I had just been leaning over and scrubbing with my 39-weeks-pregnant belly.

I had been hoping to take a bath . . .