verbal diarrh[o]ea

I did say that when I start writing I find it hard to stop. Who I said it to, though, I forget. Or whether I really said it at all, or if instead it was more of an internal thought.

Anyhow, it is immaterial.

The point is that I am blogging again within a single day. I like writing so much that whenever I'm not actually in front of the screen, I'm thinking of new things to say. I think I'll be better in a week or so though and I'll post in a less diarrhoea-like fashion. (Spell-check tells me I've spelled diarrhoea wrong, although I'm fairly sure I'm right. I tend to forget if there are two r's or two h's though. A little research shows me that Americans spell it diarrhea. LIke encyclopedia for encyclopaedia. And so on and so forth.)

No, the REAL point is that I have more to say about my summer rhus far.

I've started taking early morning walks around the lagoon near my house. The Lunawa lagoon used to be the epitome of pollution and stench, and I'd resolved that one day I would head a project to have it cleaned. Someone clearly had the same idea as me and got to it first. I'm not complaining, though. The project is not quite completed (one does have to hop around large backhoes while walking) but the lagoon is still completely transformed. It used to be so terrible that there were hardly any fish, but the lagoon is now a haven for all kinds of water birds - pelicans, pond herons, kingfishers, jacanas and a whole host of other birds that I know by sight but not by name. It's absolutely beautiful to walk aroud at 7am and see them flying, swimming and hopping about their daily business. It's also a lot of fun to see schoolchildren from the two school whose back playgrounds face the road aeound the lagoon. Mostly mischievous little boys who stand on the edge of the lagoon and throw rocks in, perhaps in an attempt to perfect the whole ducks and drakes thing (I really wish I were able to send rocks skimming along the surface instead of just going 'plunk' into the water!) or more likely an attempt to give the fish a nervous breakdown. It's also fun to say hallo to all the people going on their walks as you pass them.

It's at times like this that I'm actually glad I don't live in the heart of Colombo, although that would have made my life a lot easier while I was in school. I like living in a village, where it's inhabitants are either my relations or people my mother and uncles went to school with. I've often slightly wistfully wished I lived in the city (it can get annoying after a while, the fact that it's a 45-minute drive away) but the longer I spend at university, the more I begin to appreciate the beauty of my slightly rustic home. I like this familiarity. I like the fact that while I can traipse to the city with relative ease, I can go home to a place that is removed from it all but isn't a wealthy suburb.

I'd actually had a vague idea that I would eventually leave and live in Colombo, making life easier for all and sundry, but the older I get the less I want to actually do that. Sometimes I wonder whether I have a tendency to become a recluse. This is slightly bothersome.

If I actually want to wake up to go for a walk tomorrow, I think it is best that I now go to sleep.