The rejection came: swiftly, politely, inevitably; I did not cry. This is the beginning, I thought to myself; feeling proud that I had flung it out there and started the process. I read the e-mail immediately after returning from my second doomed trip to the Ministry of Interior and Immigration offices; also rejecting the visiting visas for our adopted Thai nephews. After compiling numerous documents, filling in forms, poorly navigating a kind driving friend, being fast-tracked to see 'The Captain,' then the Manager upstairs, smiling my hope and joy; sadly it was all to no avail.
Je suis désolé. It rained all afternoon.
I kept calm and carried on cooking a lentil bolognese and baked a pineapple-in-the-middle cake. Somethings I can still control.
My mantra: Don't give up!
St. Patrick didn't bring me any luck either, instead the rather disappointing news that the mangrove kayak expedition I was looking forward to going on with some cool, young guns, was cancelled due to the wind. Was that my lentil bolognese or the force of nature?
Fortunately, my stall at the school Spring Fair was a success. I was sandwiched between some Indian flavours on my left and the Philippine cuisine on my right; filling up this space with bric-a-brac. The customers swarmed like flies round camel manure, or if you prefer, the sweeter analogy of bees around a honey pot. I was so glad of some help from a kind, young mum whose daughter was sleeping in her pushchair. My prices were very reasonable so I got rid of most of my merchandise while supporting the school charity, Qatar Red Crescent, at the same time.
Cleaning the house is my least favourite job and in the bathroom, I somehow slice my right thumb open on the sharp plastic top of the Harpic bottle. Bright red blood spills out; at least it is a clean cut. Ouch, for both the pain and the pun. We are in constant short supply of plasters due to Dirtbag's blisters and leg shaving cuts. Her latest trauma involved ripping the skin off her shin with what presumably must have been a rusty machete and surely not the small BIC razor. This wound is approximately six inches long and I worried that it was going to get infected. She had to wrap a bandage around the box of plasters stuck on her leg and wear some black tights to disguise the horror, in order to attend school.
Where can I find a maggot to shove in my open flesh wound thumb cut?
While President Obama and his family were arriving in Cuba for their historic visit I was waiting in line at the US Embassy in Doha, successfully collecting a visa for a friend. I have felt a little bit troubled lately, as though something was severely wrong somewhere. So I have been fervently praying for the safety of all my friends and family, here, there and everywhere.
The disaster strikes with the recent bombings in Turkey and Brussels and I feel the great weight of collective sadness and anger. I consider fleeing to a remote, safe island. Where is safe? Or I wonder if I should become a revolutionary. Both are extreme reactions and I would need all my closest friends beside me to cope with either option. Putting the panic aside, I resolve instead to continue trying to make my immediate surroundings a kinder, brighter, happier space. Don't give up!
With Love xx
/www.youtube.com/watch?v=YD9EcRZpVFY
Listening to: Waiting For The Great Leap Forward by Billy Bragg (1988) and The Dalesman's Litany by Christy Moore (1976).
Singing: Safe From Harm and Protection by Massive Attack from their Collected album (2006).
Black and White Town by Doves (2005).
Dancing to: Men's Needs by The Cribs (2007), they are from Wakefield, W. Yorks and Digital Love by Daft Punk (2001).
Reading: Psalm 121 (NIV)
Je suis désolé. It rained all afternoon.
I kept calm and carried on cooking a lentil bolognese and baked a pineapple-in-the-middle cake. Somethings I can still control.
My mantra: Don't give up!
St. Patrick didn't bring me any luck either, instead the rather disappointing news that the mangrove kayak expedition I was looking forward to going on with some cool, young guns, was cancelled due to the wind. Was that my lentil bolognese or the force of nature?
Fortunately, my stall at the school Spring Fair was a success. I was sandwiched between some Indian flavours on my left and the Philippine cuisine on my right; filling up this space with bric-a-brac. The customers swarmed like flies round camel manure, or if you prefer, the sweeter analogy of bees around a honey pot. I was so glad of some help from a kind, young mum whose daughter was sleeping in her pushchair. My prices were very reasonable so I got rid of most of my merchandise while supporting the school charity, Qatar Red Crescent, at the same time.
Cleaning the house is my least favourite job and in the bathroom, I somehow slice my right thumb open on the sharp plastic top of the Harpic bottle. Bright red blood spills out; at least it is a clean cut. Ouch, for both the pain and the pun. We are in constant short supply of plasters due to Dirtbag's blisters and leg shaving cuts. Her latest trauma involved ripping the skin off her shin with what presumably must have been a rusty machete and surely not the small BIC razor. This wound is approximately six inches long and I worried that it was going to get infected. She had to wrap a bandage around the box of plasters stuck on her leg and wear some black tights to disguise the horror, in order to attend school.
Where can I find a maggot to shove in my open flesh wound thumb cut?
While President Obama and his family were arriving in Cuba for their historic visit I was waiting in line at the US Embassy in Doha, successfully collecting a visa for a friend. I have felt a little bit troubled lately, as though something was severely wrong somewhere. So I have been fervently praying for the safety of all my friends and family, here, there and everywhere.
The disaster strikes with the recent bombings in Turkey and Brussels and I feel the great weight of collective sadness and anger. I consider fleeing to a remote, safe island. Where is safe? Or I wonder if I should become a revolutionary. Both are extreme reactions and I would need all my closest friends beside me to cope with either option. Putting the panic aside, I resolve instead to continue trying to make my immediate surroundings a kinder, brighter, happier space. Don't give up!
With Love xx
/www.youtube.com/watch?v=YD9EcRZpVFY
Listening to: Waiting For The Great Leap Forward by Billy Bragg (1988) and The Dalesman's Litany by Christy Moore (1976).
Singing: Safe From Harm and Protection by Massive Attack from their Collected album (2006).
Black and White Town by Doves (2005).
Dancing to: Men's Needs by The Cribs (2007), they are from Wakefield, W. Yorks and Digital Love by Daft Punk (2001).
Reading: Psalm 121 (NIV)
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