June 15--Indonesia, Timor Island, Sesando (Tube Zither). The music came out of the night again. Susan held her breath and listened. She had heard it for three nights now. There was no singing, no human voice, just the hollow wail of metal strings. She knew it was a sesando, the native zither made of bamboo, palm leaves, and metal wire played by someone in the village. She knew it and yet she couldn't help but wonder if a person made those sounds, if she would hear the footsteps of someone approaching in the darkness. She wished that Charles would be home. Sure the manager could deal with shipping the harvest from the farm to the coast. Surely he didn't have to leave her alone here in the middle of the jungle for days at a time.
Okay, today I really am going to sew. Really. I only have to zip to Copps for a few things, then I can come home and sew until time to let Porter McPorterpants out to potty around noon. She's consigned to her crate now when DS & DIL1 aren't home because she chewed through another vinyl floor. That makes 3--carpet, floating vinyl, and glued-down vinyl. Good thing she's cute. And it's knit night (yay) but no yoga(boo). Toodle-oo.