Neighbour's quilt......

A few weekends ago it was my Lovely Neighbour's baby shower. A bunch of us wanted to do something special for her so we all clubbed in together and decided on a personalised quilt for her little boy.

One of the ladies got the squares embroidered and I sewed them all together. The tricky part was that I got the fabric on Wednesday evening and the baby shower was on the Saturday morning.... and then on Friday the Lovely Neighbour borrowed my sewing machine to start sewing curtains for her nursery! So it was a bit of a rush in the end. But I'm quite pleased with how the quilt worked out. How awesome are the little animals? 

(admission time - everyone was asked to choose a Bible verse.... I chose the giraffe because he is sooooo cute!!) 

The shower happened in the back garden. I borrowed a gazebo from a friend of mine and made tissue pompoms and bunting. Another one of her friends brought the food - which was utterly delicious. Everyone brought picnic blankets and we had a super time. 

It was a great shower. And the Lovely Neighbour loved the quilt! =)

and now...?

We knew it was a rigged election and we knew it wasn't free or fair. We knew there was intimidation and that the voters roll was a complete fabrication!

Here is what we know:
1. The voters roll was never made truly public. Even the Zimbabwe Electoral Committee said in an interview that they did not have a copy of the final document.
2. The parts of the voters roll that have been seen show
                       over a million voters who have already died (some born as long ago as 1898 - in an AIDS                                    ridden, poverty stricken nation....)
                       hundreds of thousands of young voters between the ages of 18 and 35 in urban areas left off                                  the roll
                       hundreds of thousands of people turned away from registering for inconsequential or fake                                    reasons.
                      many known ZANU-PF supporters had their names repeated up to 6 times.
3. On election day there were so many 'irregularities'
                      thousands of literate and able members of the rural community being forced into seeking an                                  'assisted vote' - whereby your vote is cast for you by a member of the army or police.
                      thousands of under age members of the Border Gezi youth were bused into urban areas, with                               false papers, to vote repeatedly in different polling stations.
                      thousands of voters, previously on the roll, were turned away as they were not on the final                                     document.
                      hundreds of polling stations didn't have pens, thus hampering voting.
 4. AU and SADC observers were few and far between - there is no way they could have kept an eye on what was going on across the country.

And the results? A complete farce. No-one is saying that there aren't any people who support Mugabe. We all knew he would get a fair portion of the votes. However, the extent of the rigging is dramatic.
During the early 1980s Mugabe ordered a Korean trained national army into Matabeleland (the southern areas of the country who had opposed his move to power). The army murdered hundreds of thousands of men, women and children. The bodies were thrown down disused mine shafts. This action was called Gukurahundi. The people of Matabeleland have never forgiven Mugabe for this and have always, out of principal, voted for whoever his opponent is. And yet Mugabe won a 'landslide victory' in Matabeleland. I read a newspaper article, one of the hundreds I have poured over, which said it would be like Jewish people voting for Hitler!
Urban areas are incredibly strong supporters of MDC. It is here where the younger members of the population get the most information, where there is more open talk and where there is a higher level of literacy. Even in the capital, a known MDC strong hold, the ruling party won 'a landslide victory'.

The extent of this fraud is amazing. If ZANU-PF put as much energy into running the country properly as they did into rigging the elections, there is no doubt that the country would return to being the Bread Basket of Africa.

so what now? Well it's not good.
for a start Mugabe now has enough of a majority to change the constitution away from the more democratic version it is now (thanks to the MDC's involvement in the government during the last 5 years.)
There is a threat of more 'indigenisation' whereby the more powerful of the ZANU supporters can, essentially, take any business, school, land that they want. Do not for a moment think that this means that the poorer members of the population will benefit for even a moment! We will see what happened with the farms - they were taken away under the guise of helping the local community but instead they were placed in the hands of politicians and their families and left to fall apart. The local people, farm workers etc, in most instances were not even allowed to grow their own crops to feed their families on a subsistence level - and were punished if they tried.
Amenities like running water and electricity are already on the brink - some areas haven't received municipal water for years! Now there is little chance of any of it being fixed.
Any international aid that had been promised to the ruling government on the proviso of free and fair elections has been withdrawn.
Sanctions, that had slowly started lifting, are slamming down again - leading the country towards years of empty shop shelves, starving millions, stagnant water - cholera and typhoid outbreaks... The medical sector is already stretched with it's lack of funds and medicines - and now it will only get worse.
the chances are that the Zim dollar will be reintroduced - another sure sign of a collapsing economy. Before MDC were part of the Unity Government we experienced inflation of up to 5 BILLION percent. It's not an exaggeration. When we were paid our salaries we had to spend it immediately because the following day it would be worth half as much.

And what is the international community doing? Sweet F-all. It's barely reported on the news. And if Mugabe gets away with this, which I'm terrified he will, the rest of Africa will fall into further ruin as dictators and tyrants follow his lead. Sanctions, which the USA and UK are threatening to impose will only hurt the general population. Does anyone think that the government officials and their families were ever affected? They all had passports in fake names. Most ZANU-PF children enjoyed tertiary education in the USA for goodness sake, even though there were sanctions against them! Pathetic!

The last of our rhinos will be butchered so their horns can be used in China (this was already happening to a smaller scale - we know what will happen now.)
Our elephants, and the rest of our beautiful wildlife, be next.
Diamond mining (from the largest diamond deposit in the world!) will continue on the backs of slave labour - blood diamonds in the truest sense- being sold in China, Malaysia and India, the money lining government pockets.
Any sign of a reviving education system will be destroyed so that the population will be left penniless, desperate and illiterate - a mass of serving minions with no way at all of helping themselves out of their situation.
There will be a further 'brain drain' on the country - the young, educated members of the population will seek employment in other parts of the world.

There are no words to explain the depths of despair that my husband and I feel. And our feelings merely mirror those of millions of Zimbabweans - both in Zim and across the world - who were desperate for the change and democracy that was promised. The millions of disenfranchised Zimbos who were desperate to return home, bringing new expertise, education, technology, hope back to the country.

It could have been awesome.

We remain heart broken.

election fret

So most of my family are in Zimbabwe, my birthplace, the land I grew up in, yearn for, love. The place I still call home, even though I've lived in England for the past 7 years. The place that my husband and I have every intention and plan to return to.

This amazing land, full of friendly people, dusty ground, sunny skies, huge thunderstorms and rain, potholed roads, long grass, big sky. This land is on the brink again...

Elections always bring the barely controlled excitement, the what-if feeling. What if the old dictator is finally ousted. What if the economy can finally be turned around, employing people, developing basic services, making things right again. What if it all works out....


but...
We know the elections are rigged. We know the end result before any ballots have been posted. We know the people who are being paid to ensure that the ruling party stay as the ruling party.

and
We fear. We fear for the people on the ground, the people being vocal and shouting out the election atrocities, the people who dare to vote for the opposition.
We fear for the violence that is bound to occur. The army and police versus the unarmed population.
We fear for the people who will 'go missing'.

We fear for the future.

a bizarre mix of what ifs and fear. knowing it will end in disappointment anyway.

but what if?
and the fear.

yeep....

I really need to get my head around the fact that this little boy is going to be with us in about 13 weeks. I have nothing ready. The kids at school gave me a couple of bits and pieces at the end of term and I did go to to buy a couple of small baby grows. Sum total of what we have:

3 babygrows (0-3mths)
1 warmer babygrow (0-3mths)
1 hat (0-3mths)
3 pairs socks

3 babygrows (3-6 months)
1 long sleeved shirt (3-6 mths)
1 pair joggers (3-6 mths)
1 toweling babygrow (3-6mths)
3 bibs

and that's it. I don't have any idea how much more I need to get but I do know that I don't have enough for him.

The ridiculous thing is that I have 2 friends who are also pregnant - one due 7 weeks before me and one due only the day before me - and I've been spending so much time making stuff for them that I've not actually even started making anything for my little dude. I do have ideas though - minion hats, bumblebee baby grow, little dungarees, tie dye onesies... and of course I have to make him a beautiful blanket (my signature gift for everyone else who's had a baby.)

But before I can do that I need to finish the blanket for my friend due in 6 weeks and make her a quilt for her baby shower (in 2 weeks), and make a hungry caterpillar quilt for the friend due the day before me..... and I know it's going to be so last minute for my own little one. :-/ Poor little guy.

The Sprite that is.

We got to see the little guy.
and yes - we're having a little boy. Although he won't be so little - quite large in fact. But he is a he.
And we're already smitten!

scan fail

So Austin and I went to the 20 week scan filled with anticipation. We even arrived crazy early in our eagerness.
Went into the scan room to see the little Sprite - who was asleep, curled up tight and face planted downwards. Briefly he extended a little arm and showed us a tiny fist and quickly we could count 4 fingers and a thumb. Then the woman doing the scan looked as his brain development and said "wow, big baby, big brain."
She checked along his spine but then he wiggled - didn't like the pressure.
She focused on his heart - yup all four chambers are there beating away properly. Found the kidneys but could only check function in one because of how he was lying.
And at this point we needed him to move. We wiggled the tummy - he didn't like it but didn't move. I poked the tummy and he briefly splayed his hands - I imagine he was saying "leave me ALONE mum!"
We could not get him to move. Not a bit.
so out we went. I drank some cold coke. We walked quickly round the car park. And then I ran round the car park.
Back in... and nope - he hadn't moved at all!

in fact he was so tightly tucked in and face planted that we couldn't even get a picture of him - we didn't even get to see his face let alone find out if he's a he or a she. So bummed!

but - on the up side - we get to go and try again next Monday.

nearly half way!

tomorrow. tomorrow this little Sprite will be half built. and on Monday we get to find out what paint job he'll have. very exciting.

I have been so very lucky so far with this pregnancy - not much sicky feeling, tired... not bad all in all.
but oh my goodness - the heart burn. I've gone from having one rennies once a day at the beginning of this pregnancy to having many many - and even having to have one in the middle of the night because the heartburn wakes me up. And last night I had to have 2. s
so bad. so bad!

but still - 4 more sleeps and we get to see the little guy again. and then either Austin will be smug at his prediction of a rich red paint job, or I will be smug because I'm betting it'll be a lovely blue. Either way we'll both be happy if the little guy is healthy and on track with his growth and development.

Any colour guesses?

dead. tired.

So everyone says you feel tired with pregnancy. Fine. 

What they don't say is that you know those days where you've been crazy busy all day, when you've run everywhere and done everything and at the end of the day you're bone tired ready for bed? Well, when you're pregnant that's how you feel when you START your day, so by the end of it you can't see how you can even get up enough energy to eat supper, let alone make it, or hang up the laundry or, let's face it, get upstairs to bed. 

Everyone says that your energy comes back in the second trimester. What they left out is the word "hopefully". Nearly half way through and I ain't seen none of that energy dat been promised me! 

and I still need to make 30 rat costumes this evening for our school play, make dinner, hang up laundry, mark a set of maths books.... 

They also didn't explain that when you're as tired as this, you tend to cry. I hate crying. This isn't a good evening. 

little Sprite

So here he is nearly double the size two weeks later. He kept playing hard to get, flipping over and showing us his back before we could get any photos or measurements. Hilarious little guy.
These pics are little funny looking - partly coz he wouldn't stay still for long enough, and partly coz the only ones we could get where when other things were being checked - his nasal cavity and his jaw bones. but those are his feet straight up in the air (?) on the right.

on to new things....

So quietly, secretly, I've had to stop drinking my little glass of wine with dinner.
Quietly, secretly, I've had to start moving the buttons on my jeans for a... comfier fit.
Quietly, secretly, I've been having to sleep a whole lot more than I used to, have had to buy new bras a size bigger, have developed odd feelings about food.......

Because quietly, secretly there is a Sprite growing inside me - sometimes known as The Alien when I feel like I might die.

And I'm dying for everyone to know, but also we've been really enjoying having the little secret to ourselves. So I can safely write it here because, let's be honest, I reckon I'm the only one that reads these ramblings. and so I can feel like I've told someone, but at the same time, it's still a delicious little secret....

Here he is at 10 and a half weeks.

And tomorrow we get to see him again - 13 weeks old.

Delicious, quiet little secret.

gratitude

So this week I was teaching the class how to write a proper formal letter and of course the comparison came up between letters and emails. They asked what the point was when we are frankly moving towards a situation where technology is taking over from the written word.
I told them about a TED talk that I'd seen about a young woman battling depression in New York. She started writing letters and leaving them for strangers to pick up and as the concept grew people fell in love with her idea. She let it be known that if anyone wanted a letter, she would write it. She's started her own company writing letters, encouraging people to seize opportunities, take the first step towards dreams, to step away from abuse and misery and make a positive life. And people started writing back telling her of how her letters had changed their lives. Little anonymous letters of love were sent out into the world and made such a positive difference.
The next day Lara, a very dyslexic pupil, came in with three envelopes with "to a lovely person" written on the front. I mention her dyslexia only because I know that for her to do this would have taken hours. It would have taken so much effort to get it all right and because I know she is a perfectionist I know she looked up almost every word in her personal dictionary to make sure it was spelt properly. She asked if she could go and hide them around the school.
Later I was chatting to another teacher in the library and she spotted a little envelope sticking out from between the books. I told her to open it and we read what Lara had written inside:

To a lovely person,
You are great. There is nothing you can't do if you put your mind to it.
 Be brave. 
Love from ?

It brought tears to the teacher's eyes, a woman who has been battling to come to terms with the death of her sister. A while later she came into my class to thank the anonymous person who made her smile and feel better about herself.

The next day there were more letters, from Lara and from a couple of other girls. They were hidden round the school and we watched and waited. Half way through our maths lesson, struggling with Improper Fractions, in comes one of my dearest friends - a teacher in the SEN department who is so loved by the girls. She was nearly crying.
"I have to share this with you," she said. "I found something and I don't know who it's from but I've been feeling so down and low and this letter.... I have to share it!"
She didn't have any idea it was from my class as she not been present the day before when we were discussing it in the staff room. It had touched her so much that she had to tell me about it.

Dear person,
You are beautiful! You are kind and strong. Don't let people tell you what to do. Follow you heart and your dreams and believe in yourself.
From
Your friend

Later in the playground a Year 2 pupil brought an envelope to me.
"I found this."
"well," I said, "it says it's for a lovely person. It must be for you, Cailtin."
She smiled. "If I open it can you read it to me?"
I read it to her and watched her face. Her smile was enormous. She asked if she could keep it, carefully folded it and put it in her pocket. I watched her walk away, her hand on her pocket and later I saw her sitting under the slide reading it to herself again.

The letters have touched staff and pupils alike. My class talk about writing more, giving more love to people we may never meet on trains and in the public swimming pool, the grocery shops, petrol stations....

My class may be chatty and scatty. They may never be brain surgeons or CEOs. In fact I worry about their academic tests into the nearby high schools next year. But man, those girls are the most creative, most giving children I've had the pleasure to teach. And I am so grateful that they remind me how beautiful the world is.

finally ... I think.

today...

Kid 1: um.... Mrs P?
Me: Yes, Kid 1?
Kid 1: how come you know everything?
What I actually said: No-one knows everything, Kid 1.
(What I thought: mwahahahahahahah - finally someone recognises that I am a supreme being!)
Kid 1: You know more than me.
Me: Well I am older than you so I've learnt more stuff.
Kid 1: Yeah, that's true. Much older.

aaaaand down to earth with a thump!

catch-up and plans...

It has been sooo long! I keep having ideas about changing the type of blog this is - changing the posts I write. Oh so many plans!

We did eventually find the perfect flat to buy. It was such a great find (we had wonderful estate agents who phoned us when we were on holiday in Zimbabwe in April!) and we love it. We've lived here for 3 months and it's still developing but it's ours and as far as we're concerned it's perfect. I'll post photos when we're all done making it extra beautiful!

And school continues to be a pain. It's such a weird place to be mentally. I LOVE teaching, I love the kids I teach (same class as last year - who make me laugh and frustrated every day! - not that they see the frustration...all the time....), I love the people I work with. I am just tired, sick to death, of being, essentially, bullied by our headmistress. Initially I thought it was just me being over sensitive, which I know I am prone to do, but most of the other staff have commented on it. Some are braver than me and actually stick up for me in staff meetings. I'm not the only unhappy one. Our wonderful Superman Caretaker has finally had enough too - handed in his resignation and decided he couldn't even serve out his notice and left. It's amazing how much being bullied dents your opinion of yourself. I find I have turned from being a creative, spontaneous teacher to questioning a lot of what I used to do naturally. Now I've moved classrooms and am in the room in the attic, which is an extra flight of stairs if She wants to come and find me - which She is doing less now. Especially after I casually, and sweetly, commented on her being rather puffed when she came into my room....
It reiterates over and over again why teachers should NEVER have favourites, and why bullying is such an awful thing.

but onwards -
it's been half term and wow do I love half term. It's exactly what I need after a crazy busy, stressful start to the year. The academic pushing I need to do with my kiddies is huge - seeing as in 8-10 months they'll all be writing entrance exams to their high schools. It's hard work - even more so as these little ones are not hugely academic. They love working - yes really- and they love it when I tell them they've done so well but it's exhausting for them (and me!)
Half term always goes the same way:
I promise myself I'll work hard and get all my planning done, reports written, displays designed and prepared..... and only after that will I read, sew, knit etc.
Instead... I sleep for 2 days, then read for 2 days, then work a bit, feel guilty that I didn't start earlier..... etc.
This year, though, I feel no guilt at all. None!
I've slept, read 2 of the next books of the Game of Thrones (love!), made curtains for the flat, done a spring clean, taken the old lady across the hall for an afternoon tea, started making my first quilt, almost finished crocheting a baby blanket for a friend who is due to pop in 3 weeks, done some baking that actually worked (!!!), made some delicious soups for the freezer for when things get colder, spent waaaay too much time on Pinterest and drawn up plans for a tote bag I want to make myself, a scarf I want to knit myself and 2 more baby blankets for soon to be born nephews (I love my nephews. 2 little ones so far and 2 on the way. Lucky lucky me!), and planned something sweet for my beautiful niece for Christmas. Also booked the car in for a service tomorrow.
wow - I've actually been quite efficient.
and to top things off, today I started writing my reports. And I've had an awesome idea for a Writing display in my classroom. Genius!

And wow am I looking forward to Christmas. Already.

April....

Yay - I love April. I love the warm in the UK, the cool and the end of the rains in Zimbabwe.
I love the spring here - flowers, new green leaves, longer evenings.
And I love the promise of cool evenings after a hot day in Zimbabwe. I love the sun coming up a fraction later so I wake to the sound of birds in the garden.

April. *contented sigh*
and this year I get to experience it in both places thanks to A.

http://chutney-lid.blogspot.co.uk/2010/04/april.html

being thankful

so I've become rather negative recently - life has, in general, really got me down and I find I've lost my focus. I used to love that I was a more positive person but that seems to have gone. and so I am going to take special care to keep track of the Good Things that happen. okay so school is really hard work - but that's not all there is to life. so ... my positive diary starts today.

Friday - my class made amazing snowmen in the field - in colour! it was so much fun that actually the getting into trouble bit was totally worth it. And I'd do it again. We trampled snow and wrote our names with food colouring. And it was good!
Saturday - we had coffee at starbucks between viewings for flats. we had a chilled out day and spend time together. My blanket for us is coming on nicely.
Sunday - my lovely husband has made me countless cups of tea, and we went to see The Vow (lovely movie) and now we're home. And a delicious plan has been made with an old school friend who I love seeing.

And I am married to the man of my dreams.

oh the plans, the plans

As seems to be the case with most things these days - all the plans are out the window. Again.
I have this irritating habit of having Plans about everything - when we'll buy a house, have kids... etcetcetc. It's even down to planning months in advance about when I'll get the carpet cleaner out and blitz the carpets. (ironically my social life and my work desk are the other end of the spectrum - complete chaos!)

so.... the Plans About House Buying have been thrown out many times. But now A and I have actually had enough and we are going to buy a place soon come hell or high water. It's quite nice that we're both so into it and there are, at the moment, three potential places which is really promising. It's also a relief because one of our friends is threatening us with putting us on Location Location.

and so onto Plans About Having Kids.... and here is where the plans left the building. Skip through doctors appointment, tomorrow on to blood tests and ultra sounds..... and perhaps having children doesn't sound so eminent any more. In fact it's pretty much definite that it all does Not Sound Promising.

so perhaps I'll just have to accept the job promotion and get on with teaching a new year group and heading towards Key Stage Co-ordinator and General Destroyer of Forests due to paperwork.

and stop snivelling for goodness sake!
thankfully I have an awesome husband who hugs and pours wine. At least I can still drink wine.

Today's Moment of Insanity

The children in my class finally realised that the mother-helper, who comes and listens to readers on Monday mornings, and her daughter have different surnames, even though her parents are married.
I explained that now it's not always compulsory for women to change their surnames when they get married, and that it's down to each individual's personal choice.

me: Like, for instance, when I got married I could have kept my childhood surname and you'd be calling me Ms Mayger, but instead I made the decision to change my surname to the same as my husband's.
kid: So what are you called now?

*thunk*

lesson of the day...

lesson on Compass directions....,
 I give a whole schpeel about direction, and The Red Arrow Always Points North.
me: Turn our compass around a bit, let it settle and then watch the red arrow swing back to North.
Kid 1:um... mine points East.
Kid 2: No. South.
Kid 1: Yes, but we have different compasses.
Me: Okay, let's try again. Ignore the letters on the side of the compass, just look at the red arrow. Point where it's pointing. Good. Now, that's North.
Kid 1: East.
Me: No. North. The Red Arrow Always Points North. Ignore the letters on the side. We're only looking at the arrow. It points North.
Kid 1: mine points East.


*thunk*

Love story..

In 1949 right at the end of the War a young RAF pilot was admitted into hospital for observation. During his call-up he'd had to leap out of his plane twice and being the pilot, he had to go last after all of his crew. One of the times he'd jumped, his plane had been on fire. The doctors wanted him to be checked out medically.
At some point he woke up to find a young, tall, dark-haired nurse in his room. She was a trainee doing her rotations in the ward.
The first thing he said to her was "well, if we're going to get married I might as well know your name."
The young nurse was astounded at his audacity and left immediately. She managed to persuade a friend of hers to swap wards so that she wouldn't have to deal with him again.
But our dapper young pilot had other ideas and went on a hunger strike. The young nurse was ordered back to her original rounds. When she walked into his ward, the pilot smiled and asked if she had a boyfriend. She did, a  man called Scott.
"Get rid of him," he said dismissively.
During the course of the day to two of them chatted and got to know each other a bit more. That evening, the nurse did, in fact, get rid of Scott.

Charles Daniel Mayger (Dan) and Ruth Caroline Philp began courting. One evening Dan took Ruth to a fancy dance. He was wearing a white dinner jacket and she, a light pink and white netting dress. She also wore a gold charm bracelet, a gift from her father, but the anchor charm kept getting caught on her dress while they were dancing. She slipped the bracelet into Dan's pocket for safe keeping but predictably forgot to retrieve it when she got home.
Three weeks later the bracelet was returned by post. In one of the spaces was a new charm, a gold heart.

Shortly after that Dan proposed, Ruth accepted. When announcing it to her family they were rather shocked by their reactions. Her parents claimed that she had been won over by the uniform, that she was too young to marry, that she had to wait until she was 21 and that she had to finish her nursing qualification.

They decided that there was only one thing to do - no, not elope as I thought. They had to get pregnant. Which, according to Ruth, took some practise! Eventually she got the chance to announce her pregnancy to her parents, thinking it would solve all the problems. Instead she was booked onto the next train to Johannesburg where she was to have an abortion. An urgent telegram was sent to Dan.
At the station, as she was being ordered onto the train by her father, Dan arrived, utterly furious at the turn of events. Dan and Ruth's father had a loud shouting match on the station platform. Dan won but Ruth was essentially disowned. Two weeks later Dan and Ruth were married in a court of law. Her parents and siblings weren't present.
Seven months later little Ian was born. And 4 years later along came Allan.

Dan and Ruth moved all round the country, watched their sons grow up, get married and have children of their own. They built their own house on a plot of land  - and named it The Plot. They had picnics in The Forest - a few acres of msasa woodland. They grew old together.

Dan passed away in January 2002. A few years later The Plot was sold and Ruth moved into a care home where she ruled the roost. She grew veggies, read to three blind ladies every night, met up again with old school friends. In 2008 she moved to Lancashire, England to be closer to Ian and his family. She broke her hip, was operated on and learnt to walk again, but slowly got more frail, more arthritic, more brittle.

And now we wait. She's asleep with family sitting with her. She is 85 years old. She's sleeping with a picture of Dan and any moment now she will join him.

And Dan, Grandpa, is waiting. He's 25 years old again and wearing his RAF uniform. He's standing with his hands in his pockets, grinning - that grin where you know that he's planning something naughty. He's waiting. Any moment now Ruth, Gran, will enter wearing her white and pink netting dress. She will be standing tall, free of pain and osteoporosis. She will smile. He'll hold out his hand and she will walk to him and take it.

And together they'll walk away, leaving the world and it's cares behind.