Sylvia's Journal

I am looking out over an empty cove under blue sky. It is a shame to sleep in on such a day. The air is chilly; it is, after all, the last day of August, right on cue the summer is ending and the fall starts with the frenzy that accompanies back to school and back to work. I went to Staples to buy supplies for my upcoming trip and realized too late that my timing was really bad. The usually quiet store was filled with weary parents and whiny kids. “Dad, I don’t want that plastic ruler, it will break!” “Sorry, you will have to be more careful!” (plastic ruler lands in basket, dad grins, son pouts).

I have finished my last two vacation sewing projects, something for myself and something for a doll (for whom? asked Axel, in a typical utilitarian male way – not for anyone, just for the fun of it, I answered). The sewing table has been cleared so that there is room to put out everything that has to go with me to Abidjan. The table is filling up with electronics/facilitation supplies and stuff to give away; there is a little to make myself comfortable in my hotel room (teakettle, coffee and tea, watercolor set, books)’ the remaining space in my suitcase is for clothes (very little).

I used to prepare weeks ahead of time for my trips but lately I stopped doing that. Partially because I did much of that in my own time (which happened to be vacation in this case) and partially because I will be working with a team and it is not good form to arrive with everything thought through already, even though they may prefer that. And maybe the third reason is this card I bought at the bookmill in Montague with Sita on Thursday. It is from Brian Andreas who makes whimsical illustrations of well known but ignored truths. The card shows a woman holding on to a pole with her body and feet in the air and underneath the words ‘If you hold on to the handle, she said, it’s easier to maintain the illusion of control. But it’s more fun if you just let the wind carry you.’

One of my team mates is Oumar who I worked with years ago in Guinea. When we write to each other we always start with the words ‘cher frère, chère soeur.’ He was also in a terrible accident (road) and we haven’t seen each other in our recovering states. I am looking forward to see him.

Joe and Axel went to the ballgame last night, which left me with a delicious late afternoon and entire evening alone. I worked in the garden planting our fall crop, sat on the porch reading, and puttered around in my room, going through my library and making a four-feet high pile of books to give away. It was a trip down memory lane as I read scribbles or flagged pages that indicated what I was learning when; some books were signed and took me back to lectures attended in a period when I was like sponge absorbing everything I could about organizations. The books that landed on the pile seem boring, irrelevant, or stating the obvious; I got rid of all the Tom Peters books and wondered what happened to him, a meteor who disappeared into a comfortable retirement maybe?

Joe is finally done with his work for MSH. I watched him from my vacation vantage point as he got up in the dark and came home exhausted, in the early evening, day after day. It is as if I was watching myself. I have enjoyed not getting up at 4:30 and have decided, by way of experiment, to start going into work late, after the morning rush when I get back from my trip – I am liking this waking up and going to bed at the same time as Axel does – our clocks more in sync.