The Skids (Nov24)

Dramatic day in how many acts with the sun in and out–mostly the latter. While the Viet lumberjack sawed down the 7-8 trunks that needed to be left for the bigger blades, cutting across came two distinct skids, as Arthur terms the sudden showers. At the first Arth had quickly ducked indoors. While a cap was fetched from the shed the Viet had kept on quite unaffected. For more cover Arthur moved under the low eucalypt that had sprouted beside the compost bin against the side fence.  On the other side of the bin three of the sycamore trunks had sprouted and 5 or 6 against the back fence. The first shower had fairly pelted, slanting over nor’ nor’west on drifts of wind that were not noticeable on the ground. Capped and with four upper layers the work had continued, a pile of handsome logs mounted against the garden shed. From the sawing with Arthur’s antique Woodpecker of the week before a pile of slender cuttings had been raised against the iron fence opposite, thus creating a fine seating corner for the Spring. 

         Over lunch at Huong the waiter told of the owner’s abrupt manner with him a couple days previous. As usual, on full moons the place had been busy and tempers frayed. Shortly after tears had followed from the boss, good contrition & apology for her intemperate words. The dignified young man had made clear he would not endure the like a second time. 

         Finally at Fausi’s after another skid that had not been noticed through the window of the café, a fine rainbow of four distinct colours appeared, pointed out by the Dinka with the injured hand at the front table.

         The usual wishy-washy early September was more exciting than usual after six years on the grey equator. People of the middle parts who were unable to afford air travel could never believe the blues of picture postcards.

         The Dinka man had spent twelve years in Kenya en route. We heard of the stolen election and of Kenyatta’s killings, which the Dinka said one day would rebound on him. Earlier, Kenyatta’s father had done precisely the same. 

         A week before the NYR had soft-pedaled the US involvement, John Kerry stoutly defending the regime.