The days just march on sometimes. Wake, slog, home, dine, bed kid 1, bed kid 2, brush teeth, start again. Laundry, cooking, work, shopping are all included in ‘slog’. No need to mention nursing or I’d have to mention it 10 times or more.
It’s OK. Childbearing years, I’ve discovered, are not for saving money, growing gardens, or big accomplishments (besides birthing a baby human).
It’s an older photo, but that guy is 4 months old today. Blink and he’s gonna eat crawl talk walk. Sigh.
Let your child eat her liver and heart straight off the kabob skewer.
I’ve think I’ve now crossed everything I really wanted to experience on this trip off of my list. Two days left, reserved for final shopping, packing, and eating!
Norah found what she has been searching for in the bazaar–a blue costume just like this. And the shop next door had the veil. I have video evidence of the dance party.
This photo of Elly and me is courtesy of our three year old photographer, whose work was both more in focus and better composed than that of our tour guide in Estefan. This is Masjed-e Jameh again.
Unesco world heritage sites by the handful, kilometers of bazaars filled with treasures, only a couple of days to see them all and our tour guide absolutely insisted on taking us to this Garden of Birds. At least we got to watch a peahen ignoring this cock’s display, and I got some interesting photos.
Norah didn’t neglect a single stall in the exquisite Bazaars of Esfehan, literally stuffed full of delights for all five senses. The handicrafts there were incredible. Many artisans are sitting inside or just outside of their shops working on the pieces they sell. You can hear the tap-tap-tapping of the metal workers throughout the bazaar, as they hammer and chisel designs onto copperware.
Esfehan deserves its reputation as one of the most beautiful cities in the world.
The Masjed-e Jameh, architecuraly sound through 900 years of earthquakes and the largest mosque in Iran, has distinctly different styles of design throughout. Ask me about our tour guide in Esfehan sometime.
If GI trouble was finally going to hit us, it might as well have been on the cold, cold high desert road back from Esfehan, where the only facilities available are squat toilets behind roadside restaurants which are just this side of clean, definitely don’t have toilet paper and probably only have freezing cold water from the bidet with which to wash. At least we have a big bottle of Oregon Grape Root and good attitudes.
