It has been awhile since substantive posts have been made to the Tabbies, which would leave our readers to believe we don’t have time, we don’t care, or we’re dead. None of which is true; well most is not true, Alli corrected me stating that she is time constrained. However, the sad fact of the matter is that for myself, I have crossed the honeymoon boundary of being in a new place, and it all looks like a wallpaper mural. Simply put, our daily lives do not present new and remarkable observations requiring comment in the Tabbies.
As an example, in February we took a wonderful weekend trip to the Kabini River area in Western Karnataka [the state we live in]. The Kabini river bisects two national parks, Nagerhole and Bandipur, and the area is rich with wild life including big cats. We encamped at a very nice resort, The Kabini River Lodge, and took a very nice water safari to see the beasties. I was even considering a Tabbies post called “That Croc almost ate my Kayak on the Kabini” as we did see crocodiles big enough to eat a kayak, Jessie and I did go kayaking, and we were on the Kabini – and, it sounded catchy. However, upon our return to our daily lives of going to work, school, and being the hunter gatherer, the notion passed without posting words.
Another example of never written post was to be entitled “Mad Dogs, Englishmen, and Village Chicks”. I was going to write about another Sunday bicycle ride. You can guess the mad dogs part as there are a lot of strays in India. I now truly understand the old saying “let sleeping dogs lie”, and the dogs lie anywhere they choose including the middle of the road. The Englishmen were a couple of recent additions to the riding blokes, which has changed the dynamics of the group a bit. And the village chicks are the chickens that are pervasive in the villages, and you have to be careful riding so as to not run over one of them lest you discover just whose chicken it was and its current street value. I know, you thought the village chicks were a new “valley girl” – admit it.
Other un-remarked-upon quests have been to obtain a can of WD-40, which required a rather lengthy discussion with various grease jocks over the course of a three day search to define the term de-grease, and the folly of removing grease from a bicycle chain, completely unfathomable, as it is necessary for proper operation. I do miss Home Depot. Or, currently, I am attempting to acquire a couple of sawhorses to put a sheet of plywood on top of to be a Lego table for the kids. Now you would think that obtaining saw horses would be rather straight forward, but no, not here. I got a picture off the net, and then showed it to a couple of carpenters. One guy said it would take three days and Rs. 6,000 (about $ 140) in labor to make two sawhorses, and I had to buy the wood (he suggested Burma Teak). Incredible! The notion of milled, planed dimension lumber does not exist, or at least I have yet to find it. There are places where you can get rough cut lumber; however, the carpenter does the planning and dimensioning. Unbelievable! I really do miss Home Depot (and my tools). Just so I don’t get a bunch of suggestions on a resolution to this, I am about to purchase a bunch of cinder blocks for legs, as those are readily available. Alli and I have already noted the irony of choices made as we discussed in September when we were packing for the move to India if we should take two folding sawhorses and an old door – for just this purpose. Obviously, we didn’t. Anyone coming to India have room in their luggage?
We have encountered a quantum of apathy towards reporting in the Tabbies, including the picture taking as we have not taken nearly the volume of pictures we took in the first three months. Not much amazes and dazzles us anymore. It’s not that India has changed; rather, I think we are just immune to observations normally requiring interpretation and comment, and daily life is just part of the mural in the wallpaper. We have read other expat’s blogs, and all expats seem to experience the same phenomena. Early on in our various assignments to India we are chatty, but the level of “OMG, did you see that” drops off after 4-6 months. I discussed the phenomena with another expat, and his conclusion was that we needed to travel more, to see new places and new adventures. That may be true, but I think it will have to be to really special and unique places, like the Himalayas, or the Taj Mahal because Puducherry did not rate a post (nor pictures) either, and we enjoyed a very nice long weekend in Puducherry. Hopefully, our next trip, the Maldives, will generate some words and pictures.
So, dear readers do not give up on the Tabbies. We are here, we are here, we are here (as all good Whos in Whoville should be), and as soon as something really dazzling or amazing is observed and endured, verily I will report its depth. Oh, yea, BTW, the actual Tabbies are doing just fine. As three year olds, they eat, poop, and sleep the days away. The only prey of note was a rather large cockroach that succumbed to a stalk and pounce in the middle of the night a couple of weeks back. See what I mean, even three inch cockroaches are not worth noting. I would be willing to bet that if our readers encountered a dead three inch cockroach on their bedroom floor first thing in the morning whilst heading to the head, it would discussed considerably – possibly at higher than normal vocal intonation, but the roach was dutifully disposed of, and life went on. JADIP, sigh.
1 comment:
Y'know, I ran into something similar with the yearinindia blog. I posted multiple times per day in the first weeks and now it is 1-2 times per week and I think that lately I've been sounding cynical. Most expat blogs become quietish after a long time.
BTW – I think the problem on your sawhorses is that they might think you are making furniture. No Indian carpenter would ever spend 6000RS on something to hold wood while you saw. The trick might be to find out what they use instead of sawhorses.
And my own personal item that is never on expat shipping lists, but should be is jumper cables.
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