Cloudy, rainy weather is now on day 4. The breeze today is strong, and the humidity gives it a chilly dampness. The thick air subdues sound. I don’t even hear the birds.
Gracie is sleeping on the couch after her hectic two days. I haven’t been able to give her the morning pills yet. She is far too smart. I gave her some deli turkey this morning, and she spit out any piece with a hidden pill. She ate the rest. I’m down to hand in mouth pill distribution. Gracie has actually eaten a whole can of dog food. I’ll try a second can later.
Another mouse got caught in my trap two weeks after the exterminator was here. I noticed poop on the floor near the trap, a sign of a nervous mouse, so I checked. It was a gray, adult field mouse. I took it and the trap to the car, drove a bit then let the mouse go. It bounded through the tall grass. I never realized mice could bound.
On Sunday night, I was out back with Gracie. The house behind me on the next street had three outside lights lit. All of a sudden I heard a guy scream, “Come on, rabbits, I’m ready.” He yelled that a couple of times. I figure he has a garden the rabbits are enjoying. Beyond that, I have no idea what awaits those poor creatures. Peter Rabbit and Watership Down came to mind.
I finally loaded my Ghana trip pictures to the computer. I also loaded and posted last Christmas, this Easter and February’s snow storm. I did all this yesterday while I was waiting to hear about Gracie. I needed to keep busy. Looking through my trip pictures was joyful. I got to relive it all. The only thing I’d change about that trip is maybe to make it longer, spend a few more days watching elephants and use a day to visit the Rhino preserve on the river.
I have Peace Corps friends who have no intention of going back to Ghana. I know things have changed. The cities are huge and choked with traffic. People are everywhere: walking, riding in cars or taxis or on bikes, but inherently Ghana hasn’t changed nor have the wonderful Ghanaian people. In Bolga, market day is still every third day. Mostly women sell cooked food along the sides of the roads. Kids are still drawn to white people though I don’t understand why. I know in my day it was the rarity of white people in the Upper Region. Taxi drivers still inflate the fares so we still get to bargain. The food was and still is amazing, except for kenkey which I never liked. If I were rich enough, I’d go back for a farewell tour.
