I recently sent off an email in which I wrote that someone needed another something “ like she needs a hole in the head”- which just goes to show us yet again the dangers of stooping to writing in clichés. The moment I hit “send”, I started thinking “Well, your mouth is a hole in your head, as are your ears and nostrils. Who decided that a ‘hole in the head’ is the benchmark for the ultimate in the unwanted? That doesn’t actually make sense."Thinking about it further, I determined that the expression must really be: “like another hole in the head”, which makes way more sense. Maybe I have mis-heard the expression all these years. I figured that must be it. But a quick glance at Answers.com yielded the following:

Have neither a need nor a desire for something, as in I needed that extra work like I need a hole in the head. This expression has such ancestors as "As much need of it as he has of the pip [a disease] or of a cough," from John Ray's English Proverbs (1678), and "As much need of it as a toad of a side pocket," from Francis Grose's Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue (1785). [Slang; c. 1940]

So, that's it. It's an expression that is commonly used in English, yet makes no sense. I contemplated switching over to saying "like a toad has need of a side pocket". It's very colourful, but seems to be assuming a lot. Maybe toads would actually enjoy having pockets. They could carry around extra dead flies and such. Could be handy.

But today is a day to celebrate, not to obsess of obscure linguistic problems! It is Severin’s 12^th birthday! He’ll have a party on Saturday with a few friends. But today we’ll celebrate with just the family. I asked him this morning what he’d like for his birthday lunch.
“Rabbit!” he said, with a wicked grin.
Valentine got right into the spirit of the thing: “Mallory’s are just the right size now! Individual servings! Tasty and tender tiny bunnies! Yum!”
Just then, Mallory walked in the door with her favorite baby bunny in her hands. Snow White is one of the litter of six that was born about two weeks ago. Very adorable, with tiny, fuzzy white ears.
“Hey Mal!” I called out. “Why don’t you pick out a few of the bunnies that you aren’t so fond of and put them in a box? Just leave them in the kitchen. Severin wants rabbit for his birthday lunch.”
She just rolled her eyes at me and walked back out.
JP started expounding on the joys of rabbits as a food source rather than pets and lamenting the fact that it is never served in our home. He then waxed nostalgic over his mom’s homemade terrine de lapin (smooshed-up rabbit meat spread, for all you non-francophones)
Just so you know, there will be none of that in my home. Bunnies are for cuddles, not casseroles.

As for Sev, for lunch he’s getting fries and dead cow, in the form of grilled kebabs.

The Queen of Sweden visited a travel agency recently with her dog.
Well, it was actually Mallory, dressed up in a long white robe. Did you know that Swedish aristocrats dress remarkably like Galadriel in Lord of the Rings? I didn’t either.
As for the dog, that was Alexa on all fours, panting daintily and looking vaguely like an afghan hound, if you squinted.
Valentine was the travel agent, seated at the coffee table in the middle of our living room. She helped Her Majesty plan an exciting trip to Switzerland.

Today’s dress-up involved some friends, as Valentine is away at “nun-boot camp”. (More on that later. ). Here’s a picture of the girls dressed up for a game. You can see that Goaty is not left out of the fun.
The forces of good are clearly represented on the left by a fairy and an elf. The two on the right are evil witches. Apparently some witches are far more fashion-savvy than others.

Now for the bad news. My jaunty comment yesterday that the chickens are all well must have jinxed the bunnies. The first thing I heard this morning was Mallory shouting “Mom! Alexa’s bunny is GONE!” I ran outside and found that indeed, one was missing. The driver was nearby, waiting to take Valentine to the convent (Nun boot camp, right?) so I asked him if he knew anything about the matter. Mahama told me that the guardian had found that the little guy had managed to get out of the cage and had gotten caught by the cat. Yes, the same cat that was the cause of so much misery not too long ago. At that point, Old Moussa came walking up “I’ve got it, boss!” he said, dangling the little fluffy head by the ears. The body was hanging quite a bit lower, swinging on a long, red thread. I put my hands over Mallory’s eyes and explained to Moussa that we REALLY didn’t need to examine the poor little guy.
There have been a few tears and nobody is talking to the cat today.

As for Valentine, no, she is not taking the veil. Her catechism class is having a retreat at a convent down at Koubri, one hour to the south of Ouaga. She wasn't really keen to go (hence the "nun boot camp" comment) as it is very hot right now. Also, she would have liked to be home to see her dad. JP was scheduled to come home today after ten days out doing research. But she packed her Bible, mosquito repellant, etc and took off this morning at about 7:30. The kids were supposed to all go on a chartered bus. But when the bus showed up at the rendezvous point, a problem became evident. It was a nine seat bus, not a 19 seater, as the organizers had understood. I guess somebody messed up. Anyway, I was asked to volunteer the use of our Land Cruiser, as it has nine places. I was very nervous that it wouldn’t make the trip, but the driver said that it went fine. And hopefully it will do as well on the trip tomorrow night to fetch them back.

Daytime temperatures here are consistantly 104°F or above, but the early mornings are still somewhat cool. It would seem to be a nice time to go out on the terrace and enjoy a coffee before the day starts. Unfortunately, it's hard to find a good place to sit. Goaty seems to have decided that the table is a cosy spot to spend his mornings. Great minds think alike, I guess.
As I don't relish having my breakfast in such close proximity to Mallory's pet, I move further down the terrace to another seat, only to find:
Nowhere is safe.

And then there's these guys:
They are often napping in the middle of the living room, so you have to be alert and nimble to avoid a tragic accident. There's actually seven of them total: Crystal, Lucky, Bronwen, Darwin, and three others that have not yet displayed enough personality to earn a name.
Lucky got his name by being found drowned in his mum's water dish. Mallory rescued and, amazingly, recussitated him. Thankfully, it did not involve mouth to mouth. She rubbed him with a towel and he began to breathe again. It took him a while to recover, but he seems quite well now.

And now for something completely different: I have some friends here that have an amazing non-profit org devoted to opening libraries in villages. These libraries mean the world to the people in these villages, who often have no access to books at all. This is a great project!
Read the blog here!