For Fun's Sake!

This is dedicated to any of you out there who need cheering up. I hope it makes you laugh loudly.

I was nearing my destination taking Dirtbag from training to a shopping mall on Saturday. Why were some other drivers and passengers smiling at me while we were stuck at the lights? Checking my rear view mirror, I gasp in horror as I see the giant penis complete with testicles boasting a few pubic hairs, drawn into the dust on the back windscreen. Why haven't I noticed this appendage before now? I'm already driving a huge, throbbing red engine down the highway, why should I need any more attention? The setting sun must have suddenly decided to illuminate this childish work of art in its window frame.

Continuing to freak out but laughing hysterically at the same time I frantically search for the knob (!) to turn the rear windscreen wiper on; it has gone AWOL or something. I've never needed to use it before now. Meanwhile, the front windscreen wipers are frenetically whizzing back and forth, successfully washing the already clean screen. I have no choice but to get Dirtbag involved.

'Phone your father now and tell him that we have got to get rid of a giant penis riding on the back of the fire engine! By the way love, I have never seen one as big as that before.'

I am ranting on and on about penises, nobs, and all sorts. Dirtbag does smile and giggle a bit which only encourages me further in my diatribe. Those of you who know me well will know that I blush quite easily despite my mischievousness and play on words.

Romeo doesn't know where the vitally needed knob is either but admits that he did know the penis picture was there from the other day! Are you kidding? Is this some kind of Tracey Emin A level art project? Or a secret code for 'Follow me if you need some Viagra or something else?' What must the Arabs around me be thinking? Who would put me to such shame and humiliation? Was it the fuel attendant, some cheeky schoolboys or an impertinent colleague? Why are these lights not changing from red to green?

Still fluctuating between laughter and embarrassment I hallucinate that it could actually be seen as a simple artistic representation of the cannon outside Zubarah Fort.
Thank goodness it wasn't projecting an explosion!

At long last, we arrive at the shopping mall. It seems as though I have been driving forever. I park swiftly and jump out grabbing the box of tissues from the boot. It takes just a few wipes to clear the blot from my rear view horizon before I can calmly carry on with the next task in hand; teenage underwear for her and a Bond girl outfit for me!

Feeling cleansed again, I am reassured that nothing is in fact too big for me to handle.


PS I have now located the rear windscreen wiper knob just in case a massive pair of exposed breasts should be discovered travelling at high speed with me on my next journey. Don't YOU dare!

At Zubarah Fort, February 2014

Did this Running Man inspire mini dirtbag?

Pushing my limits

While storm Gertrude was raging across the UK, I was camel riding through the desert with Miss Bell in awe of her amazing adventures and achievements. Now I'm convinced that I am somehow related to her (auburn hair, yes, green eyes, no, slender, no, from Redcar in North Yorkshire, yes but Shepley in West Yorkshire). There are many quotes I would like to share with you but I reckon this one about being in the desert sums it all up.

'No-one can travel here and come back the same. It sets its seal upon you for good or ill.'

From Gertrude Bell: Queen of the Desert by Georgina Howell.

It was a pleasant surprise to discover that Simple Minds were not playing at the Qatar Masters but Soul II Soul (UK) and Arrested Development (US). Brilliant! I had been looking forward to singing Don't You (Forget About Me), (1985) incredibly loudly but I realise you can't possibly forget me because here I am rambling merrily along and presumably you are still reading me.

We arrived just as the last group of golfers were putting. Wow! I was soooooooo bored and it only took five minutes. All these posh people were hanging around dressed in weird clothing being super silent and intense. Where was Adam Sandler swearing his head off as Happy Gilmore, (1996)? Romeo was totally frustrated as he would have loved to walk the course and watch the whole tedious thing. We put ourselves out of misery and propped a bar up for a while which was fun. Then we wandered around the Public Village, which had a kind of upper-class festival feel to it, sharing fish and chips. Somehow I ended up avec un pain au chocolat aux amandes in my coat pocket all night.

I was really excited to experience some live music again and managed to get right up to the front barrier with ease. Soul II Soul were brilliant and I sang and danced my heart out, warming up at last, as it was a chilly 11 degrees or so. There was an older woman on my left and I made polite conversation with her after the vibrant ten piece band had left the stage.

'Did you like Soul II Soul? I thought they were great!'
'They're not U2 are they?' She replied drily.

I wanted to punch her in the face and say of course not! For a start, they are British, R&B artists from London you daft bat. But I refrained. Excellent self-control Susie.
Turning to my right I had much more hip-hop fun with a joyful Canadian lady who was bonkers but in a brilliant way. Arrested Development were really amazing. They created such a positive vibe among the audience encouraging us to clap, wave, sing and generally join in. We celebrated with their exuberant energy. It seemed Romeo was destined to be the husband behind me having fun that night, as two female friends had earlier declined my invitation being otherwise engaged.

No pressure friends of mine: to see me, be with me or even read me. I still love you.
My Canadian chum got a selfie with Speech, the long dreadlocked lead singer. I got a handshake and a 'How ya doin, y'alright?' in a genuinely kind way.

'Beautiful people around the world
Stand up for what you believe in 
Open your mouth
Say it loud and proud
Let your voice be heard'

Lyrics from Let Your Voice Be Heard, off their album Strong by Arrested Development, (2010).

Another itchy eye infection or bite has been bothering me. As has the horrible drainage smell permeating the whole house. Some drastic action was required to make me feel better. So I had a new haircut which obviously makes me look ten years younger.

My current fitness regime is aptly called Insanity and is the hardest physical exercise programme I have ever attempted. I can hardly make it through the five-minute warm up alive.
'Check your heart rate, check your heart rate!' Shaun T shouts at me from the screen. He tends to repeat himself between gasps of exertion. OK, Mr T. when it stops then I'll give up and have a long rest. Respect to all my friends who have ever done or are doing this mental workout.

A momentous decision has been made and four, one-way flights are booked for our homeward bound trip in July. I am floating on air.

Half way through the latest book club choice for this month I have to stop reading. It's disturbing me too much because it's a true crime novel and I can't handle it. I can and will talk about it in our discussion but now I'm going to read anam cara, Spiritual Wisdom From The Celtic World by John O' Donohue, a gift from a special soul friend of mine, to redress the balance.

I have finally finished editing my novel (again) and spent time researching some agents to send it to. Yikes! Now I am working hard on my synopsis and covering letter. After completing these, I will then double, triple check the book before sending the first three chapters to the chosen agent as required. I'm still scared but very determined to do this.

'Ooh, I just know that something good is going to happen
 And I don't know when
But just saying it could even make it happen'

Lyrics from Cloudbusting by Kate Bush, (1985).

Something stopped me from publishing this yesterday and it became clear why when Romeo returned home at 7 pm. He handed me the single stem yellow rose the day after Valentine's day.
'Did you get it half price?' I ask him, smiling sunbeams of elation.


Not reading: The Stranger Beside Me by Ann Rule
Listening and singing to: Cloudbusting and Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God) by Kate Bush from her Hounds of Love album, (1985). Here I Stand and Face The Rain by a-ha, from their brilliant debut album Hunting High and Low, (1985).
Not dancing: I can hardly walk after Insanity!
Watched: Joy (2015), Burnt (2015), Despicable Me 2, (2013) and The Fugitive (1993).
It was half term.

Vanity Publishing!

Q. Did you notice that I have decided to use single quotation marks instead of double ones?

Sonnet S

She chose the small initial 'S' earring,

It would replace her tiny Celtic cross,

Just to try something else without fearing,

The ridiculous pain of searing loss.

Oh how much longer could she bear this change,

Piercing both holes in her lobe and her soul?

With conflicting thoughts and feelings so strange,

She became broken in pieces, not whole.

But the silver symbols began to fight;

To stake claim, remain firm in her right ear.

It was not really a question of might,

The one who holds the truth and wins is clear.

       There is no matter in which earrings I wear,

       Rather, the faith, hope and love I can share.

True Colours

Imagine running a 5 km course with 7,199 others and having powder paint chucked at you from all angles every kilometre. I thought of rainbows, the Care Bears and Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. My number 2167 not a burden and the colours a blessing not a curse for me, unlike the handmaids in Margaret Atwood's brilliant dystopian tale. The glittering gold HAPPY tattoo lasted a whole week on my left forearm, even after bathing. Good job I didn't stick it on my forehead. The 80's style headband held that position. Dirtbag ran with a friend so I selfie-stuck with mine. She emerged from the green powder paint explosion ahead of me, looking like Princess Fiona from Shrek.
''Hello darling!'' I shouted to her before also becoming an alter-ego ogre. It certainly was the #Happiest5k I had ever run. The photo is very amusing to me as Ellie didn't know what the sign said until after the picture had been taken. Read it and weep penitent tears beloved daughter of mine.

The green theme continues with my healthy breakfast smoothie. Feeling very virtuous, I suck it up a straw first, before gulping the rest down with my eyes closed. It's really quite pleasant, although at one point I gag thinking I am swallowing a large lump of snot until I realise it is actually a blob of unblended banana. I'm being sensible and only having this swamp juice thing twice a week depending on the availability of fresh kale in the desert.

Some colours have changed for me as I am no longer childminding and the three green-eyed, jealous monsters of mine have my full attention again (well, sometimes).
For one day only, Dirtbag flew off to Dubai for another Cross Country event as I sent my first ever tweet. I thought how appropriate it was having just published The Singing Tree poem. My head may be full of birdsong but my mental torment continues as I spend hours agonising over the editing and layout of my blog, only to find it all changes on the handheld device. The video I rotated and stressed over won't even play in my palm. How will my forthcoming sonnet fare? Shakespeare did not suffer so much with his simple parchment and quill.

'' 'You don't know what courage you possess until you are called to show it,' he had replied. 'You are the bravest of women. Wherever you are, here or in the UK, it doesn't matter; you will remain brave. You represent all the women of this island to me.' ''

Kunal speaking to Sita in Brixton Beach by Roma Tearne.

I hope you are Happy; although it is impossible to be all the time. If you are Bashful, Grumpy, Sleepy, Dopey, Sneezy and need to see a Doc or two, just accept that's the way it is at the moment. Know that feelings and circumstances can and will change for you. Be brave. Live for now.

'' So don't be afraid to let them show 
  your true colours 
  true colours are beautiful
 like a rainbow ''

Sorry Cyndi, but I have to type colours the correct way otherwise I feel sick and distressed like I do when spinach gets stuck in my teeth. That is why I can't write The Color Run. Agh, multi-coloured vomit is coming your way now!

In sympathy and with respect for Bowie, Let's Dance. Continue to enjoy some spellbinding magic with Professor Snape and keep flying on eagles' wings with Frey.

Take it easy,
With Love xx



The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood (1985)
True Colors by Cyndi Lauper (1986)

Reading: Gertrude Bell: Queen of the Desert by Georgina Howell
Writing: A sonnet
Listening, singing & dancing to: The High Road (2009), Holding On For Life (2013) and After the Disco (2014) by the brilliant Broken Bells. Their videos are really engaging, intriguing and cool in my humble opinion.
Watched: Gravity (2013) and Salmon Fishing in the Yemen (2011)

               

Dead

Alive

                                                                                                     

Susie and The Singing Tree

Susie and The Singing Tree

The tree was full of twittering

as she cycled slowly past;

smiling, listening, enjoying the symphony.

It became impossible not to stop

and search for birds hiding in branches;

gathering, sheltering, rejoicing.

She herself had just been praising,

it was only natural for them to do the same.

wearehereweareherewearehereweareherewearehere,

they chirruped, chirped and chorused.

Extraordinary in the ordinary,

and it happens every day at the same time.

A free show to look forward to.

To remind her of the simple things in life;

things to cherish.

Mind Blowing and Memory Making

I did not realise how quickly my naked self could move until I dropped my Kindle in the bath at the start of the Christmas holidays. Frantically scooping it out, I gently swaddled her in a small towel and shouted, ''Get me some rice NOW!'' I can be quite assertive and in control when required. Shrouding myself in a larger towel before carefully laying my beloved companion into a casserole dish and burying her in dry rice, I muse.
Please don't die yet, you bring me so much joy. 
Thankfully, the towel, the rice, the plea have worked.

The first dilemma of the holidays arose with a difficult decision to make. As usual, our social events clashed; shall we attend a carol service or go camping? ''I have a bad feeling about this.'' Surprisingly, Romeo steers us all onto another course declaring that we were going to see Star Wars: The Force Awakens. Brilliant! This will be the first time in two years that I have been to the big screen. I wasn't disappointed; gasping in delight at the IMAX screen, travelling at lightspeed through the galaxy with my 3D specs on, absorbing the adventure and relationships. It was almost like being in church. We sat in a row together, listening as the stories unfolded and made some sense. The original Star Wars films are pure allegory aren't they, George?

So with the Kindle re-fired and the Force awakened I felt empowered to take Dirtbag for her 8.00am Christmas Eve dental appointment. Brace yourself Ellie! Another opportunity to try out my limited Spanish on the Cuban orthodontist.
''¿Buenos días cómo estás. Feliz Navidad.'' I'm trusting google translate has got it right here.
We enjoyed the freedom to celebrate in our community by singing some carols, feasting on fine food and frolicking later on in the evening. Bruce the dog was lapping up all the fuss and attention in his cute little Santa jacket.

Christmas day appeared gloomy and overcast. Perfect, just like England. I cycled down to the beach for my swim in the large waves. Another brave soul was already body boarding. The sea didn't feel too cold at all and I was soon splashing around whilst trying to keep the silver tinsel in my hair. Then the heavy rains came, pounding down all day long, creating huge puddles and preempting the terrible floods in the UK on Boxing Day. My in-laws live next to the River Irwell which flooded their garden, cellar and garage. It was sad to see it on the news as it is only 400 yards or so away from The Waterside, a pub we frequented which collapsed into the river. Nearer to home, York, Manchester, Leeds, Brighouse and Elland seemed to be sinking. I trust they will resurface and return to normal soon.

We revisit the cinema, this time, to see Spectre. Brilliant! Mini-Me is a keen Bond fan. I had to exercise the art of self-control as I was sitting next to a white thobed man and one of his wives, I presume. When The Writing's on the Wall resounded during the opening sequence I mimed the lyrics perfectly but really I wanted to sing them out at the top of my voice. It was so hard to restrain myself. It would have been much better all round if they had used Radiohead's sublime ''Spectre'' theme instead. After my initial torture, I settled down to focus on the plot. My heartbeat became erratic engaging in all the adrenaline-surging action and also in anticipation of some sex scenes. It soon regulated itself when I realised the really exciting bits were all completely cut! How frustrating for a midlife crisis comme moi. It's a good job I have a great imagination isn't it? Our kids can keep singing their songs of innocence for a while longer. OO7's drill torture scene transported me back to Dirtbag's dental appointment. Ouch! I'm sure it's harder to watch than experience.

''How do I live?
 How do I breathe?
 When you're not here I'm suffocating.'' 

Sam Smith, take my advice and buy some Olbas Oil (cf. Distracted by decongestant 14/1/15).

Wonderfully, Mini-Me finds himself wearing a brand new, white PSG football kit and standing in the tunnel waiting to walk out onto the pitch with Inter Milan player number 33, Danilo D'Ambrossio.
''Mum, I said Hi to Mancini and he said Hi back!''
''Who is Mancini?'' I replied.
''MUM!''

I enjoyed sitting in the dazzling Millennium Falcon Al Sadd Stadium with its Spider camera zipping up and down. The WOOHOO from Blur's Song 2 blasted out when the only goal of the friendly match was scored by PSG. On my way to the toilet, I found a folded QR 50 note. Hmmm, another dilemma? Picking it up I thrust it into the hand of one of the yellow T.shirt wearing Spectator Services men and get a beaming smile in return. It's only when I embark on my subsequent bathroom trip that I notice the shiny Rolex resting comfortably on his wrist. The sad looking cleaner in the toilet block should have received my bounty.

We welcomed in the New Year with good friends, hosting the party at our house. Well, the lights were still in place from the birthday party so it was no trouble. Mum had sweetly sent me a message at midnight, 9 pm UK time. After everyone had left or gone to sleep, I stayed up until 3 am with a cup of tea and some Pringles. Looking up into the night sky I silently wished my family and friends from miles away a very happy year ahead.

My Blackberry has crumbled so I now possess Dirtbag's old iPhone 4s complete with its cracked back. Beware it may take me a while to navigate this new piece of technology and reconnect on What'sApp again. Do I have to glue it onto my palm straightaway?

Gazing somewhat enviously up at Orion I am amazed that his belt is not one notch looser after this festive season. He is most certainly a lucky constellation. On a cool, starry evening stroll with Romeo, I am treated to the biggest, brightest shooting star that I have ever seen in my entire life. It was so amazing and seemed to glow across the sky in slow motion just for me and my wishful thinking. If I tell you all my wishes I will have to mind-wipe you and that could hurt. So I won't.


Reading: Brixton Beach by Roma Tearne
Listening to: Music Complete, New Order's new album
Singing: Tutti Frutti by New Order
Editing: My novel. It is in four parts, including a prologue and epilogue.
I'm currently editing Part 4.

Keep on dancing and adventuring with me. Click on the link below. xx

www.youtube.com/watch?v=QtXby3twMmI


Songs of Innocence and Experience by William Blake

I don't want a lot for Christmas

I was very impressed by the recent school production of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. Most of the student actors and actresses speak English as their second language. For them to learn such long, lyrical lines and deliver them so well was wonderful to see and hear. It was both ambitious and entertaining and I really enjoyed my trip to the theatre.

Our very own Dukhan Triathlon took place in glorious conditions after the strong winds of late had abated. Each competitor received a medal at the finish line. Many volunteers helped to make this a really successful event and the athletes enjoyed the course which included an open water sea swim. Dirtbag impressively completed the whole thing solo (Under 14's category, four days before she became 14), while Mini-Me did the bike leg in a winning Under 11's team.

Another opportunity presented itself where I was obliged to dress up yet again. It is indeed a wonderful life! This time, I was Connie Claus, Santa's jealous daughter. The occasion was a Murder Mystery game called Ho, Ho, Homicide. Father wanted me to marry Kris Krangle, but I had secretly wed Blinky, an elf I had fallen in love with. It was great fun sweating it out in a friend's sauna inducing Christmas jumper with my neon blue wig in place. My dodgy accent fluctuated between what I thought was French, Swedish, Norwegian, Turkish and Arabic. Despite being a jealous and cold character, I was not the murderess.

Lysander:    Ay me! for aught that I could ever read, 

                   Could ever hear by tale or history,

                   The course of true love never did run smooth;

I have been venturing out on the road bike to see how much faster I can go; tracking my speed and distance on the Garmin I bought for Romeo last Christmas with his money! (It's the thought that counts after all). The straps on my sports bra are thicker in all dimensions than the tyres on this bike, so it is with some trepidation I embark on my rides. On my most recent expedition I reach speeds of 35 km or so, cycling approximately 10 km out of the compound. I'm trying hard not to think the thought remembering the broken sail. Too late, it takes root somewhere.
I hope I don't get a puncture. 

Ping! Oh beep, beep, beeeeeep!!! The back tyre bursts on a tiny, sharp desert stone. Thank gravity it wasn't a bra strap! That would have really been something to worry about. I decide to enjoy the 5 km walk back in the cooler weather, singing and doing some more thinking.

Why doesn't Bradley Cooper invite me out for dinner? Why doesn't Jay Kay ask me round to dance with him? Why doesn't Simon Armitage phone me up and beseech me to collaborate with him on his next brilliant poem? Why don't any of these flatbed trucks trundling past offer me a lift? The police even pass me twice! I must look like a woman in control of her own destiny and not to be messed with, wearing Romeo's Maersk Oil desert challenge 2014 top. I'm approximately 1 km away from the compound when a small car with an OFFICIAL sign displayed on its back windscreen stops.
This charming man puts his window down and says in a dodgy American or Australian accent,
''Do you need a ride?''
I politely thank him for his offer, yet refuse this stranger's kindness. We both agree that I really should learn how to mend a puncture. Walking on, I reflect upon how difficult it would have been to refuse such an offer if it was from a friend of mine. Eventually, I get back to the house completing my duathlon. There is no medal for me at the front door finish line, just the satisfaction of survival.

My top 5 Christmas films waiting to be watched again this week are:

1. It's a Wonderful Life
2. Scrooged
3. Love Actually
4. Home Alone
5. The Snowman

'' So here it is Merry Christmas 

  Everybody's having fun, 

 Look to the future now 

It's only just begun.''

Thank you for your friendship, your encouragement and taking the time to read me. 

Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy & Healthy 2016.

With Love from,

Susie xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

All I Want For Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey (1994)

Merry Xmas Everybody by Slade (1973)