Like a Virgin

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So for some reason, February + Tour = Marriage Proposals for Jami. And it’s only the first of the month! (I’m excited to see what the rest of the month holds!) I got up and showered and dressed for church and went out to get some breakfast. Victor was in the kitchen, and we were chatting. He commented on my ring, and I told him I had to replace it because it broke because of the work I do- lifting and things, plus driving tractors. He thought it was pretty cool that I can drive tractors. Then, he randomly started calling me “Jami Mustang” all morning- a play on my last name, apparently. And finally, I was getting something to drink, and he said, “Why don’t we get married, and we can get a horse together.” I told him I thought it was a great idea, just as long as we don’t have cows.

Off to church!

I sat with Immaculate on the bus, but Uncle Mike was a few rows behind me and was trying to convince Michael that he is color blind. One of the children asked Uncle Mike how old he is, and he replied, “pushing forty.” Resty then piped up, “You’re over the hill!” All the aunties and uncles within earshot started rolling.

The service was fine. Other churches make me miss home more, but also challenge me that God is the same everywhere, no matter my location. And, though we worship in different ways, we all worship the same God. Again, though, a nearly two-hour service is a bit much for me. Afterwards, Sarah, Kyle and I had a nice chat about the service and things; how different denominations do different things. My ecumenical horizons are expanding. Regardless, though, singing worship songs I don’t know (problem #1) surrounded by 35 people who sing beautifully (problem #2) isn’t one of my favorite things, but I got over it.

On the ride back, Fiona sat in my lap and snuggled like a baby the whole time. Rebecca and some of the other girls were teaching me songs in Luganda. I got her to write out the words, and she’d sing them and I’d sing them back. Then she’d say, “No Auntie. That’s not the right note. You must go down!” I had a bit of trouble explaining to her that lots of white people are not as musically inclined as many Africans, and I can’t hear things like that. The thought was lost on her.

Sarah and I did a Sam’s run while a zillion people from church were here at the house, saying goodbye to the children, and hopefully raising money for the new house. Naptime!

I woke up partway through the first quarter of the Superbowl and joined Cowboy, Christine, Craig, Victor and Prossy in watching it. Victor so doesn’t understand American football, and Christine is a huge fan. Other people came and went, and Jordan made us milkshakes. During halftime, Victor and I started planning the wedding, talking about traditional Ugandan weddings, and how we would hopefully have kids that had each of our good genes- my naturalized genes (so they could be citizens, regardless of where they were born) and his singing genes. Sarah’s not sure his singing genes can overpower my 100% tone-deaf ones, but Victor is sure African genes are powerful. During the game, we decided that our horse of choice would be a Clydesdale. Oh, and we’d both change our last name to Mustang (moos-tangk)

Victor was asking all sorts of obnoxious questions and sort of being a punk about the game, and then Christine realized that Victor was a football virgin! Then the jokes started flying! Oh my.

I’m hoping to finish my book tonight, or at least make quite a dent in it to finish it tomorrow.

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