Barfing on my birthday

Nope, this isn't another post about Afghani-sickness.  I don't want to say that we've been healthy because I know as soon as I do my stomach will start to bubble.  But there are no sniffles or gurgles to report.

But still, it is barfing on my birthday; barf being the Dari word for snow.  Of course, this provides for endless giggles with the expat children (and sometimes the adults too).  We've had a very mild winter; it didn't barf at all until January.  We thought that we were on the upswing to spring, but it's barfed three times in the last three weeks.  And I have to say, Kabul is quite pleasant and beautiful when covered in a fresh layer of barf.



To keep warm we've been firing up the bukhari each night and throwing the kettle on top of it for tea.