I walk on the grass towards the pit. The moonlight bathes the backyard in its blue light. The oiled spit gleams on its iron supports over the charcoal...filled pit. Dad set it up yesterday, the kindling, covered by the charcoal, and the four long wicks of rolled cotton that sink to the bottom of the pit, to light it. In between the regular charcoal he mixed self lighting one, to make sure it will light up easily. I helped him set it up, another family tradition I could have done without. A can of. As last hope i suggest Andrea to talk ,together,to a marriage counsellor,she agrees and we fix an appointment.We are greeted by Naomi,a white,fit,around 45 year old lady who seat us on a comfortable lounge,next to each other.Naomi take a seat in front of us on a separate chear.I expected some kind of formal settings,with the counsellor taking written notes and instead here i am chatting away with a stranger who is quickly getting to know me and my wife.After a while the door open and Naomi. More

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