By 10pm, warmth resumed. Tenant had been chased and faxed the document by 4pm. We'd finally finished packing by 7pm. And just before bed, in a "good luck boys" call from my mother, a phrase that deserves a wider hearing. The observations of my stepbrother in Canada. Namibia + Uganda + Kenya + Zanzibar + etc etc etc = "sucking the marrow out of life." I was taken aback, and flattered, in equal measure. Something for Henry and me to remind ourselves when we're 45 minutes into a three hour scrub clearing session in some god awful wilderness, I'm telling Henry I couldn't give a flying fig about the damn cheetah sanctuary, and the only thing I want to suck the life out of is a double gin and tonic.
JY
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