I feel exhausted by recent events not least being run off my feet looking after the latest VIP guests, aka mum and dad, but more so battling through a determined army of head lice camping in Joshua's ginger mop. Arabian nits seem much more prolific, maybe it's the hot, sweaty, under hat conditions they thrive on. Anyway they are banished for now, but only time will tell if they visit again. Am I talking about my parents or the nits?
Mum brought me a palm cross from the church service at home which I thought was lovely and funny at the same time as it was probably made out here in the Middle East from the many palm trees here. How many air miles can a palm frond collect? We also gratefully accepted Cadbury's Easter eggs and a large box of Yorkshire tea. Brilliant.
The cosmic lyrics from my last post were:
Yellow by Coldplay
Cosmic Girl by Jamiroquai (my most favourite band ever!)
Underneath the Stars by Kate Rusby
Hope you got them.
Life here is simplified in that we don't receive any junk mail at all and the only time our landline rings is when the school nurse (nitty Nora the bug explorer) is sending one of the kids home or one of Eleanor's friends wants to chat. There are a lot of comings and goings with relatives and friends magically appearing then disappearing and many people go travelling over the holidays to Thailand, Vietnam, Philippines etc. The fluid lifestyle doesn't really suit me and makes me homesick as I want to properly belong. My Yorkshire roots run deep and will not be cut loose.
A bold step for me recently was to visit a GP to discuss my varicose vein scenario. The doctor was kindly concerned, recommended surgery and gave me a complimentary bare breast examination at no extra cost. I gave an emphatic "No thank you," (for the come for one problem and get two extra ones free) when she suggested a 'pap' smear, stating I was all thoroughly up to date on the down below deck checks, which is true. Phew!
I was enjoying time at the beach with my parents one day and decided to have a wander along the shell strewn shore. I spotted a comely bikini clad guest, slowly stealing up to photograph a resting cormorant on the edge of a concrete jetty. As our paths crossed we chatted together and after a few minutes we noticed a young Bangladeshi man skulking past with a boulder in his hand. It turns out that the lovely bikini lady was an avid animal lover and she became rather quickly concerned that the boulder holder was going to kill the cormorant. I down sized this concern suggesting that maybe he just wanted to make the bird fly away. I do like to hope for the best in human nature. As the man creeped cautiously along, the bold bikini bearer became more and more distressed. Her instincts however, were surprisingly correct and as the cormorant killer hurled the boulder she screamed and started shrieking at the man. "Is it OK for me to throw a stone at you?" At this point I was quite unsure what to do having given the lad the benefit of my doubt, it turned out he had intended to harm the beautiful black bird. I tried to calm the raging bikini down. He returned more slowly back down the jetty, looking rather scared as if he knew he was in BIG trouble. Like the mariner who kills the albatross in Coleridge's Rime, his fate was sealed.
"Why did you do that?" came the harsh accusation. "What did that bird do to you?" In his pidgin English he tried to justify his actions saying that in his culture these birds are disliked and it's part of their religion to get rid of them. He said they eat up all the fish.
I wondered if someone had told him to do this and he was just obeying orders, scared not to comply. I tried to intermediate, sitting safely in the middle on my self constructed fence, fully appreciating both sides of this bizarre happening. Our 'mariner' retreated to less stressful surroundings as I suggested that we go and examine the cormorant. We found him sheltering in the jetty rocks. At first I thought he was injured but later on in the day my dad informed me he was swimming about quite happily. I thought it was better not to mention the recent deaths of two Grand National horses to my ardent animal loving companion.
We were ceremoniously named at a recent Hash with the following:
Nige is 'to be decided' because that's what he was
Ellie is '60 seconds' for her speed
Josh is 'lipstick' because he always gets fizzy pop around his mouth after a drink
My name is 'I'll come again' arousing a lot of adult sniggering, when my comment was literally about attending the Hash once more. I would have much preferred 'chatterbox' or 'smiler' other reasonable suggestions but the majority vote won. I'm stuck with it unless I bravely elect to change it at the forthcoming Hash ball. People say you get an even worse name though, so I will stick with my wholly innocently intended double entendre remark.
Obviously during the holiday we went on our pilgrimage to see the dolphins and were delighted to meet Splashy and Jefferey's offspring as they swam around the boat. Another happy family together, as we were. They seemed unfazed by the hundreds of alien like jelly fish of all sizes also sharing their sea space.
Thank you to all who are reading my blog, I really appreciate you spending your time with me. x
Mum brought me a palm cross from the church service at home which I thought was lovely and funny at the same time as it was probably made out here in the Middle East from the many palm trees here. How many air miles can a palm frond collect? We also gratefully accepted Cadbury's Easter eggs and a large box of Yorkshire tea. Brilliant.
The cosmic lyrics from my last post were:
Yellow by Coldplay
Cosmic Girl by Jamiroquai (my most favourite band ever!)
Underneath the Stars by Kate Rusby
Hope you got them.
Life here is simplified in that we don't receive any junk mail at all and the only time our landline rings is when the school nurse (nitty Nora the bug explorer) is sending one of the kids home or one of Eleanor's friends wants to chat. There are a lot of comings and goings with relatives and friends magically appearing then disappearing and many people go travelling over the holidays to Thailand, Vietnam, Philippines etc. The fluid lifestyle doesn't really suit me and makes me homesick as I want to properly belong. My Yorkshire roots run deep and will not be cut loose.
A bold step for me recently was to visit a GP to discuss my varicose vein scenario. The doctor was kindly concerned, recommended surgery and gave me a complimentary bare breast examination at no extra cost. I gave an emphatic "No thank you," (for the come for one problem and get two extra ones free) when she suggested a 'pap' smear, stating I was all thoroughly up to date on the down below deck checks, which is true. Phew!
I was enjoying time at the beach with my parents one day and decided to have a wander along the shell strewn shore. I spotted a comely bikini clad guest, slowly stealing up to photograph a resting cormorant on the edge of a concrete jetty. As our paths crossed we chatted together and after a few minutes we noticed a young Bangladeshi man skulking past with a boulder in his hand. It turns out that the lovely bikini lady was an avid animal lover and she became rather quickly concerned that the boulder holder was going to kill the cormorant. I down sized this concern suggesting that maybe he just wanted to make the bird fly away. I do like to hope for the best in human nature. As the man creeped cautiously along, the bold bikini bearer became more and more distressed. Her instincts however, were surprisingly correct and as the cormorant killer hurled the boulder she screamed and started shrieking at the man. "Is it OK for me to throw a stone at you?" At this point I was quite unsure what to do having given the lad the benefit of my doubt, it turned out he had intended to harm the beautiful black bird. I tried to calm the raging bikini down. He returned more slowly back down the jetty, looking rather scared as if he knew he was in BIG trouble. Like the mariner who kills the albatross in Coleridge's Rime, his fate was sealed.
"Why did you do that?" came the harsh accusation. "What did that bird do to you?" In his pidgin English he tried to justify his actions saying that in his culture these birds are disliked and it's part of their religion to get rid of them. He said they eat up all the fish.
I wondered if someone had told him to do this and he was just obeying orders, scared not to comply. I tried to intermediate, sitting safely in the middle on my self constructed fence, fully appreciating both sides of this bizarre happening. Our 'mariner' retreated to less stressful surroundings as I suggested that we go and examine the cormorant. We found him sheltering in the jetty rocks. At first I thought he was injured but later on in the day my dad informed me he was swimming about quite happily. I thought it was better not to mention the recent deaths of two Grand National horses to my ardent animal loving companion.
We were ceremoniously named at a recent Hash with the following:
Nige is 'to be decided' because that's what he was
Ellie is '60 seconds' for her speed
Josh is 'lipstick' because he always gets fizzy pop around his mouth after a drink
My name is 'I'll come again' arousing a lot of adult sniggering, when my comment was literally about attending the Hash once more. I would have much preferred 'chatterbox' or 'smiler' other reasonable suggestions but the majority vote won. I'm stuck with it unless I bravely elect to change it at the forthcoming Hash ball. People say you get an even worse name though, so I will stick with my wholly innocently intended double entendre remark.
Obviously during the holiday we went on our pilgrimage to see the dolphins and were delighted to meet Splashy and Jefferey's offspring as they swam around the boat. Another happy family together, as we were. They seemed unfazed by the hundreds of alien like jelly fish of all sizes also sharing their sea space.
Thank you to all who are reading my blog, I really appreciate you spending your time with me. x
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