It’s almost 10 years since I last went on excavation – my last one was Lake Naivasha in Kenya.
10 years since I last did something I wasn’t supposed to do: I travelled on the roof of a “matatu”, the scary minibuses of Kenya, after I was politely requested by the husband not to travel in them because they were so dangerous (he said nothing about the roof though).
And it’s been a few years since I have worked on the blueprint, line drawings and strategy for a completely crazy plan that I had no intention of executing. I did try though – just yesterday I asked the son if he would accompany me to Egypt to set up a new government, find out if Akenaten was truly Tutankhamun’s dad and as a grand finale – finally establish the true source of the Nile. I said this and anticipated two delicious days or even a whole week of diagrams, routes, research – but you know what, I was brushed off. Apparently he is too preoccupied with school, guitar practice and cricket and swimming. Humph.
So something has to happen and happen NOW. I even have my omelette sandwiches at the ready – yes – omelette sandwiches, the most crucial element of an adventure, food of champions etc.
What did my sisters and I eat after our first swimming training? After our first competitions? My first 100 meter sprint inter-school sprint? The time my parents and us went to a deserted part of our town to fly an aborigine boomerang amidst much fear that it would fly back and decapitate one of us? On the long school summer holiday when my dad and I planned a subversive infiltration operation against a neighbouring country (oh the amount of planning and research that went into this!). The son’s first school day? His first cricket match? Swimming competition?
Omelette sandwiches. All the way.
Even the husband is a big convert. And not just any old omelettes, we are talking “Indian” omelettes spiced up with onions, chillies, tomatoes and coriander in between two slices of heavily “ketchuped” bread.
Here’s my recipe: