I've just hoovered the sand and dust off the computer which is blowing in through the beloved air conditioning unit during our sandstorms of late. I can taste dust in the air and feel the fine stuff on my fingertips as I tap away. We have had a series of events happen which begin with our tenants in Shepley giving their notice followed by a burst water pipe here in the flat. The drama unfolds with me announcing,
"Tea's ready."
Ding dong doorbell.
I answer the door to sign a piece of paper acknowledging the leak on the roof has been mended. Meanwhile Nigel is putting some washing in our brand new Samsung 7kg all singing and dancing washer /dryer.
"Tea is ready!!"
The Kids have appeared at the table and are tucking in when we hear Nigel shrieking like a girl being kiss chased by an ugly boy she just doesn't fancy. We rush to the laundry where water is bursting out of a pipe behind the singing and dancing machine like a frenzied fountain. Nigel is immediately soaked to the skin and attempts to stem the flow with his thumbs over the pipe as I laugh my head off. The kids are unsure what to do.
Nigel still shrieking says, "Don't just stand there, get some help quick!"
I run to the window and lean out to call the workmen back in whose paper I signed 5 minutes before. They come into the chaos, quickly find the stopcock and turn the fountain off. I am still laughing and I think they want to join in but just allow broad smiles to spread across their faces instead. With a flambouyant flourish Nigel shakes his head free of the water sprayed all over him. As he stands in an inch or two of water, his T.shirt sticks to his manly curves while his shorts are dripping wet, I think of a new advertising campaign for a brand new scent by Davidoff called "Laundered Waters."
Eventually we sit down to eat and the children decide to erupt into an argument at which point Nigel explodes after the stress of his unplanned shower. Suddenly the TV turns itself on and distracts us before turning itself off again. We all calm down and eat. Strange but true.
The next exciting episode features myself and our second hand car. We have just bought a bright red Dodge Durango which feels huge compared to the hire cars we have had (we got rid of the Sunny and up-graded to a Nissan Altima for a couple of months which was a much smoother ride). Last weekend we went to sign the necessary documents in Doha and became the new owners of this monster truck. If you put a ladder on it, a siren and a water hose it could easily pass as a fire engine. Nigel was chuffed to bits no more hire car payments this is ours, with all of its seven seats to carry visitors and trek safely through the desert. We continued our day out in Doha doing a bit of shopping, having lunch and then calling at the main Post office to collect two long awaited parcels. The Post Office is opposite the Qatar Tennis Federation where I recently watched Tsonge, Federer and Nadal play in the Qatar open. I was feeling rather up-beat and confident and decided to drive us back to Dukhan in the new wheels. We had been in the car no more than 5 minutes, approaching a roundabout, when I misjudged the stopping distance in my fire engine and gently rolled into someones bumper, cracking their shiny silver paintwork like a nutcracker on a walnut. I was so upset and cross with myself. Nigel was surreally calm, the complete opposite to our burst pipe scenario. The man I bumper car hit was also very calm and gracious with excellent English, thankfully. We had to go to the Police Station to report my misdemeanor before Nigel drove us safely back home.
A piece of advice: Don't drive in flippin' flip flops in a foreign country in a fire engine.
The Golf Club has become our substitute Cricket Club and husband enjoys playing there as often as possible. He has paid for some lessons for me and I have played my first 9 holes this week. I strangely enjoy it and can appreciate how addictive it is. Last Saturday Nigel was playing golf in a competition, Eleanor was at a party and Josh and I were playing cricket near the main mosque. Three muslim families appeared in their big four wheel drives. The men went into the mosque, the women in black burkas wandered and sat around, three of their boys came over to us. They were about the same age as Josh. I gestured for them to join in and they played for half an hour or so, turn taking with the bat and ball, it was good fun. They chatted in Arabic and Josh and I in English, giving thumbs up for a good hit or catch. They left suddenly without a goodbye and then a few minutes later one of the boys with the smiley face came running over, prompted by his Dad. He shook first Joshua's hand and then mine. I waved acknowledgement to his Dad at his son's kind gesture, a custom they don't usually share as they greet more emphatically with kisses, hugs, backslapping and handshakes (cf Eyewitness Travel 15 minute Arabic). It felt a very special moment as the sun was setting and we stood united by sport in the shadow of the mosque, two worlds briefly connected yet miles apart.
I went to the free cinema by myself to see a film called Black Gold. It was filmed in part in Qatar and was a big highlight of their film festival last year. It was really interesting, about the rise of wealth due to the discovery of oil in the country. There was a love story interwoven alongside some graphic sword fighting scenes with men charging down sand dunes on camels. I thought it was a bit like an Arabian Braveheart. Antonio Banderas and Frieda Pinto are in it.
I have a request to all readers of my blog. Please read The Shack by William Paul Young
http://www.theshackbook.com/
I read it on a borrowed Kindle and it kindled something in me. Book club especially read it, come on honour this as my choice in my absence. It will make you grow fonder of me. x
"Tea's ready."
Ding dong doorbell.
I answer the door to sign a piece of paper acknowledging the leak on the roof has been mended. Meanwhile Nigel is putting some washing in our brand new Samsung 7kg all singing and dancing washer /dryer.
"Tea is ready!!"
The Kids have appeared at the table and are tucking in when we hear Nigel shrieking like a girl being kiss chased by an ugly boy she just doesn't fancy. We rush to the laundry where water is bursting out of a pipe behind the singing and dancing machine like a frenzied fountain. Nigel is immediately soaked to the skin and attempts to stem the flow with his thumbs over the pipe as I laugh my head off. The kids are unsure what to do.
Nigel still shrieking says, "Don't just stand there, get some help quick!"
I run to the window and lean out to call the workmen back in whose paper I signed 5 minutes before. They come into the chaos, quickly find the stopcock and turn the fountain off. I am still laughing and I think they want to join in but just allow broad smiles to spread across their faces instead. With a flambouyant flourish Nigel shakes his head free of the water sprayed all over him. As he stands in an inch or two of water, his T.shirt sticks to his manly curves while his shorts are dripping wet, I think of a new advertising campaign for a brand new scent by Davidoff called "Laundered Waters."
Eventually we sit down to eat and the children decide to erupt into an argument at which point Nigel explodes after the stress of his unplanned shower. Suddenly the TV turns itself on and distracts us before turning itself off again. We all calm down and eat. Strange but true.
The next exciting episode features myself and our second hand car. We have just bought a bright red Dodge Durango which feels huge compared to the hire cars we have had (we got rid of the Sunny and up-graded to a Nissan Altima for a couple of months which was a much smoother ride). Last weekend we went to sign the necessary documents in Doha and became the new owners of this monster truck. If you put a ladder on it, a siren and a water hose it could easily pass as a fire engine. Nigel was chuffed to bits no more hire car payments this is ours, with all of its seven seats to carry visitors and trek safely through the desert. We continued our day out in Doha doing a bit of shopping, having lunch and then calling at the main Post office to collect two long awaited parcels. The Post Office is opposite the Qatar Tennis Federation where I recently watched Tsonge, Federer and Nadal play in the Qatar open. I was feeling rather up-beat and confident and decided to drive us back to Dukhan in the new wheels. We had been in the car no more than 5 minutes, approaching a roundabout, when I misjudged the stopping distance in my fire engine and gently rolled into someones bumper, cracking their shiny silver paintwork like a nutcracker on a walnut. I was so upset and cross with myself. Nigel was surreally calm, the complete opposite to our burst pipe scenario. The man I bumper car hit was also very calm and gracious with excellent English, thankfully. We had to go to the Police Station to report my misdemeanor before Nigel drove us safely back home.
A piece of advice: Don't drive in flippin' flip flops in a foreign country in a fire engine.
The Golf Club has become our substitute Cricket Club and husband enjoys playing there as often as possible. He has paid for some lessons for me and I have played my first 9 holes this week. I strangely enjoy it and can appreciate how addictive it is. Last Saturday Nigel was playing golf in a competition, Eleanor was at a party and Josh and I were playing cricket near the main mosque. Three muslim families appeared in their big four wheel drives. The men went into the mosque, the women in black burkas wandered and sat around, three of their boys came over to us. They were about the same age as Josh. I gestured for them to join in and they played for half an hour or so, turn taking with the bat and ball, it was good fun. They chatted in Arabic and Josh and I in English, giving thumbs up for a good hit or catch. They left suddenly without a goodbye and then a few minutes later one of the boys with the smiley face came running over, prompted by his Dad. He shook first Joshua's hand and then mine. I waved acknowledgement to his Dad at his son's kind gesture, a custom they don't usually share as they greet more emphatically with kisses, hugs, backslapping and handshakes (cf Eyewitness Travel 15 minute Arabic). It felt a very special moment as the sun was setting and we stood united by sport in the shadow of the mosque, two worlds briefly connected yet miles apart.
I went to the free cinema by myself to see a film called Black Gold. It was filmed in part in Qatar and was a big highlight of their film festival last year. It was really interesting, about the rise of wealth due to the discovery of oil in the country. There was a love story interwoven alongside some graphic sword fighting scenes with men charging down sand dunes on camels. I thought it was a bit like an Arabian Braveheart. Antonio Banderas and Frieda Pinto are in it.
I have a request to all readers of my blog. Please read The Shack by William Paul Young
http://www.theshackbook.com/
I read it on a borrowed Kindle and it kindled something in me. Book club especially read it, come on honour this as my choice in my absence. It will make you grow fonder of me. x
