And a technical hitch saw ...

eight days of no blog posting. What I was supposed to do after pre-scheduling the blogs I wrote to automatically appear daily during my absence was  pre-publish, a process I forgot to follow when my dearly departed relative came earlier than had been initially advised and everything else had to be abandoned.  Her funeral was held as scheduled and everything considered, I think she had a grander funeral than actual life.   I mean, she flew for the first and only time in her life after she died and her funeral was the first event where she took centre stage with so many people paying her tribute.  Esther's funeral procession had three buses and more than twenty cars, which all lined up and caused a reasonable stir in this otherwise materially challenged neighbourhood.  There was lots for the locals to talk about after the funeral.  

Lets face it, in this my world, most things are done for show.  Who is watching, who attended, what they brought, what they were driving, what they were wearing etc.  Was the dearly departed in  a casket or a coffin? How much  food was served, how was it served and how often? Did any people of note attend?  I leave you to picture the two prominent political parties swaying for ownership of the funeral, four churches assuming the right to the last rites, and various other interested parties.  All this for someone who did not go to church herself or belong to any political party, but because of the relatives left behind, such was the demand for ownership of the funeral.  In the end, three pastors from three different churches helped each other to do the graveside sermon and the representatives from the two political parties slugged at each other quietly as their voices were drowned by the beer drinking and drum beating group which claimed Esther to be one of its own. A really colourful funeral!

Immediately thereafter, I took off for Mutare.  Mutare was my typical spur of the moment decision and I'm glad  I went, especially without the twins because I needed the rest.   Mutare knows how to enchant!  It is an attractive city but not a heart throb.  A city with much allure but no pull, beauty but no magic.  You can heal in Mutare but you do not forget.  So I embraced the mountains and kissed the forests and breathed the scent of the pines and dined with the stars.  I told the moon my secrets and it shared its own forlon loneliness with me and  together we laughed and made friends.  That was magic.  I promised the moon that we would do that again soon and so we will!