Ten Thousand Spoons

This morning I woke up with Alanis Morrisette's "Ironic" buzzing in my head, which I thought was odd since Alanis and I have rarely crossed paths since she traded her long flowing locks in favor of the cropped mom look. We have been out here in Jordan now for just over two weeks and are settling into the swing of things slowly and surely. I love this beginning time when you come to a new place--things are just new enough to really take note of them making simple joys like showering into suddenly new and unfamiliar adventures. I flipped on the hot water switch and slept a few more minutes while I waited for the hot water heater to spring to action. Last night I was haunted by what I am sure is now the fattest mosquito in the world. Despite his inevitable corpulence, he eluded me all evening and I looked forward to soaking my swollen arms and legs this morning. But that was just a silly dream--while the cold water can shoot out quite powerfully from our hand held shower head, the warm water is another story. It trickles out like someone's faltering urine stream preventing you from ever feeling completely wet without using copious amounts of water--a risk we just can't take. As I lifted the shower to wash my hair, I noticed about a dozen different shower settings on its face. The small rivulet of water running down my arm could supposedly magically morph to spray, sprinkle, karate chop massage. Drying off with my spaghetti sauce stained skirt and equally dirty beach towel, music came again to my mind. Well played, Alanis. Well played.