The mud was disgusting. It didn’t matter how careful one was, there was no way to keep it from sticking. And where are the fruits? A banana? Haven�...t these people heard of a tomato? Or a mango? Meat. Bread. Onions. A carrot. A potato. That’s it. No wonder they look like ghosts. Unhappy ones. Of course they’re pale. Where’s the sun, anyway? And it’s not even winter yet.She had hated London. Too many people. Too many horses and carriages. Smelly. Dirty. Noisy. Oxford, on the other hand, seemed to. “Staff...its not that big of house”, I said.“Well you will need at least a maid who can cook and clean for you”, she said“Will she have a one of those bracelets”, I asked.“Yes but that is the island culture”, she said.She started to pack up her things and we left out the door. She said we would go to Home Resources Inc. where they would explain the the options and polices for in home employment.After leaving the hotel and getting into Naomi's convertible the conversation went from in home help. More

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