I'm just a cosmic girl

Whilst embarking on yet more dusting in my kitchen I reach up on tiptoes to the top shelf and as I move I hear a slight yet very distinct SNAP! Instantly I know that it is the beautiful purple orchid which I have waited with baited breath to behold. I could cry with desperation and am reminded of the fragile world we live in.  The troubles in Syria, in particular come to mind.

I have treated myself to a lovely handmade ring with a moonstone gem, sourced in Sri Lanka. The gem is set in a chunky silver base and looks see through until it catches the sun when it illuminates moonlike. I discovered that this gem is a symbol of fertility which unnerves me somewhat as I was contemplating having my Mirena removed. Three years to the day of insertion I recently blew up even more in the belly department, as though I was about to self combust, belly button first. I realise now this whole belly issue is partly due to my contraceptive device and no amount of Shape Your Abs, Boot Camp classes at the gym, swimming and regular sit ups plus a healthy diet will do much good. Unless of course, this alien hormonal device is plucked out with special tweezers like the Bread Basket piece in the child's game Operation.
Would this make the buzzer go off and red light come on? Certainly! Would the consequences of removal bring another mini Hoyle into this world? Possibly. You know we had to leave Formby solely because we didn't want Eleanor to develop a scouse accent.

I consulted the stars and to my delight saw the planets Jupiter, Venus and Mars with my naked eye. Awesome. I think common sense tells me to take my moonstone ring off in future when I'm feeling romantic.

Speaking of once a month events we are involved in a sing- a -long session (Scaremongers beware: http://www.thescaremongers.com/) at the Water Sports Club. Nigel with his guitar and folder of songs, me nervously waiting in the wings for my one hit wonders. It's an open mic session and suits us down to the ground. The acoustics in the designated room happen to be fantasic which helps a lot. The audience of ten or so new friends and colleagues appear to enjoy themselves and politely clap as and when appropriate. I'm learning Martha's Harbour by All About Eve for the next "show off" session.

I will sign off for now with some cosmic lyrics, name these tunes/artists if you can.

"look at the stars, look how they shine for you"
"sends me into hyper space when I see her pretty face"
"underneath the stars I'll meet you, underneath the stars I'll greet you"

Bloggers block

Does bloggers block exist? Probably. Or is it that I have again been too busy to blog. To blog or not to blog, that is the question?
I am eagerly anticipating two buds blossoming on one of my second hand plants. This is an amazing confirmation of life here in the desert. I'm not too green fingered and managed to administer euthanasia to a 70 year old Bonsai tree I once won at a school fair in Formby. So this remarkable act of growth is very exciting when I hardly water the thing and it has limited sunlight through the darkened glass of our flat windows. I am also chuffed at being able to bake again with success. I am putting it down to a new Bosch fan oven, sourcing some self-raising flour (all-purpose and chapatti don't work for me) and  using my second hand bake ware.  I imagine this has been used many times to lovingly bake endless cakes and muffins for family and friends which instills me with confidence and hope.
Our half term this February was not as adventurous as last October. We have spent six months here now so some mundane jobs have to be done. Such as dusting more layers of sand off every surface blown in through the air-conditioning after continuing high winds and sandstorms.

 A low point of half term was queueing for three hours in a car graveyard to have our new number plates put on the fire engine. It took us ten minutes to find the end of the snake like queue with tensions already  mounting. Nigel left me in the drivers seat and went to join the human queue. An hour later he returned with the new plates, I had progressed 100 metres or so along the scrapyard. I had been amused to notice many cars and vans ahead of me over taking a Toyota truck. The driver had decided upon a nap.
We were close to the comings and goings of the wholesale market and a large pen of camels to look at. This kept the kids amused for about 2 minutes.
As per usual my need of a public convenience began to grow during the second hour, magnified by the truck I noticed carrying toilet pans of different designs. It is quite amazing at what the human bladder can achieve when put to the test. I'm so glad I did practise many a pelvic floor exercise after both my pregnancies.
We eventually reached the number plate swopping site and cheered for pure joy and relief. It took about three minutes to do the job and then we were off, leaving the other poor souls to waste three hours of their day at this torturous task.

Nigel was asked to judge a painting competition at a local recreation club. We all went along and in a room of approximately 200 people we were the only Westerners there. It was very humbling and daunting at the same time. We were treated like royalty and constantly offered drinks and snacks. The judging began and became even harder as the age bracket rose. There were some wonderful pictures of homes, villages and Mosques. Mr Hoyle judged accordingly and when time for the presentation arrived he was set upon the stage like Prince William on his wedding day. I remained hiding at the back of the hall, coyly confident like Kate Middleton amongst the many multi-coloured saris, in my bright blue and pink lucky top. The one I had on when I met Morten Harket from a-ha. It was lovely to see so much excitement on all the children's faces eagerly waiting to see who had won a prize for their talents. There was lots of cheering and clapping and then food afterwards. It was a special occasion for us to share in.

I cannot believe that Eleanor is going to Dubai for three days on a school trip. She has been selected to represent the school in a sports tournament for British Schools in the Middle East. She is so much more travelled already than I have been and at such young age, so fortunate. Joshua is an Emperor penguin in his first assembly here next week. He has to say "Oi cheeky who are you calling fat?" Which I can't wait to watch.
It is with astounding disappointment that I have to report my husband has laboured through Simon Armitage's Gig. I was hoping to hear many chuckles and guffaws whilst he was reading it in bed. I really do want him to have fun in the sack. Instead he has remarked on it being a chore to get through and he thinks Simon may be a bit smug. Ha! I think he is a bit jealous of my adoration for the author and may be scared that he is no longer Top of my Pops. How ridiculous of course, Nige still remains my main man with his cricket, football, golf, singing, guitar playing, pot making, painting and water-skiing prowess.
He is enjoying Dan Brown again.
Whilst waiting for my first ever full body massage at our local gym I read the Gulf Times. For fun I glanced at my Stars, something I never normally bother to read. Here's what they said:

If you've been under stress and worrying about older members of the family, it's time to come to terms with the situation. Be sure to organise events that will keep the children busy. Be cautious while travelling, minor accidents are evident.

OK I've got to accept now that we're here the parents and in-laws are going to want to come and visit. There is no escape. I never thought I should keep the kids busy, I thought that came naturally. What about just playing? If anything kids are too organised and busied these days. Yes, thanks for reminding me about the bumper car accident, I had put that behind me because it was a month or two ago.

I did manage to drive safely to Doha and back with the children recently. I followed another family in  convoy to go to a bigger Church service where the Bishop (of Cyprus and the Gulf) attended to confirm some people and license two readers. It was brilliant. We sat in a school hall full of people from many other nations all singing and saying the same words. I found it very emotional and a taste of what I imagine Heaven to be like. Eleanor could not believe everyone was Christian because some were of African or Indian origin. It's funny to think she defines religion by colour, like painting by numbers.
What colour are you?