Speaking of free range kids. Lyra took her first solo airplane flight today. She flew from Milwaukee to Minneapolis (a 55 minute flight). Northwest allows children to fly solo from the age of 5. A couple caveats are: the flights must be non-stop (after 8 she can fly with a connection), it cannot be on the last flight of the day, and we have to pay for the escort service. No surprise there - since you pay for everything on the airplanes these days.
When we were in Minneapolis it was a great time visiting with family, but not a lot of chance for one on one time with Grammy and Grumpy. So, we discussed it there that Lyra would fly back for a long weekend and stay with them. When we consulted with her she thought that would be a good idea.
But somewhere along the lines, I think she didn't understand that she'd be flying alone. So, when we were in Milwaukee and talking about it, she started to get pretty nervous about being on her own. As I talked to her, I think she had the idea that she'd have to navigate the airport on her own. Like we'd just pull up to the Departures area and drop her off! So, we spent a lot of time talking about how Russell would be able to take her up to the plane jetway and that Grammy and Grumpy would be waiting at the door on the other end. Plus, she'd have someone to help her find her seat and there would always be someone to help her if she needed anything. It took a few days of talking about it and I wasn't sure that she'd finally be ok with doing it.
Turns out, she did great! On the airplane, she was seated next to two older women - which is good because she can have a little bit of stranger anxiety around men. I asked her if she was nervous and she told me that she was only nervous when the boys wanted to speak to her. I asked if those were "boys" who were working on the plane and she said yes. Grammy told me that she was the last off the plane and as the passengers were getting off they kept asking, "Are you the grandparents of that little girl who's on the plane?" "Yes, we are!" they said. Many people were very impressed with how well she did.
Well, she's no stranger to airplanes. She's logged a lot of hours in the air. She knows the routine. Now she'll be asking to do it all the time!
Friday, August 1, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
At Least It's a Dry Heat
NOT!!
If I had a dollar for every time I heard that back home. No, it is NOT a dry heat. The past few days we've been havin' a cool snap. A tropical cool snap.
Even though daytime temps are hovering in the low 100's, the humidity has soared to near 80%. Yuck! Really, I don't know what's worse: Temps near 100 with 80% humidity or temps near 110 with humidiy at 45%. With one, my feet are slipping around inside of my shoes and my hands feel as if they are coated with slime (my own body slime). With the other, it's like a furnace blast resonating up from the pavement through your shoes and into your face every time you walk around.
It's so humid! . . . How humid is it?
When I walked out of the office this morning my glasses fogged up.
The building is collecting condensation on all the windows
I had to run the windsheild wipers to wipe of the condensation that formed where the A/C air is hitting the windsheild.
My hands are slipping off of my handbag straps as I walk down the street.
My hair has developed curls that have never been seen before.
The water on the pavement that leaked from watering the plants last night was still there when I left for work this morning.
Maybe if you've lived in Louisiana or Mississippi, you're used to this. But to me it is just too odd to see the whole building sweating like a cold pitcher of water.
How to cope?
Stay out of the sun (no brainer there).
Learn to live with sweat (sweat happens).
Use prickly heat powder (J&J makes one here).
Carry an umbrella.
Get outside once the sun goes down - or else you'll go mad!
Take a dip in the pool.
Speaking of which, I noticed this morning that the pool is now clean. When I got back from the US, it had been suffering from 3 weeks of no pool guy. It wasn't exactly green, but I couldn't see the bottom - murky. When he came by last Saturday, I saw him head out back, see the mess, and heave a heavy sigh. He mostly vacuumed when he was in on Saturday. When he left, it was still murky, but less so. This wasn't going to be solved in one visit. I figured it was probably ok to swim - I'm sure he had shocked the water. But it seemed less than inviting. Plus, I've been working late and not up for a swim when I finally have a moment around 9 or 9:30 (at that time, I'm feeling a lot like going to bed!) But today, after his second visit yesterday, the pool is crystal clear. I dipped my toe the other day. It's not bath water temps, but there won't be any hint of that cool-shock that you can get when you first get into a pool. I'm hankering for a swim tonight. After I clean the patio, maybe.
And a question for you physics-geeks out there - you know who you are. So, when it's hot - I mean really really hot - like say 110 or 115, it actually seems quieter when I go outside. Doors close more quietly, footsteps sound more muffled. Is it possible that the heat interferes with the transmission of sound? with my ears reception of sound? or am I just imagining it? It's also possible that it is actually more quiet. When it's hot like that - ain't no one wants to be out in that.
Edited to add
So, I looked it up and found this:
http://www.madsci.org/posts/archives/may98/896275999.Ph.r.html
It's not super conclusive, but does seem to point to sound traveling better in cold air. And from other web sites I looked at - it seems that maybe humidity has more to do with it than temps. I've yet to find something in plain English that will tell me if things sound more quiet when it is hot and humid. So, if you find it, post here.
If I had a dollar for every time I heard that back home. No, it is NOT a dry heat. The past few days we've been havin' a cool snap. A tropical cool snap.
Even though daytime temps are hovering in the low 100's, the humidity has soared to near 80%. Yuck! Really, I don't know what's worse: Temps near 100 with 80% humidity or temps near 110 with humidiy at 45%. With one, my feet are slipping around inside of my shoes and my hands feel as if they are coated with slime (my own body slime). With the other, it's like a furnace blast resonating up from the pavement through your shoes and into your face every time you walk around.
It's so humid! . . . How humid is it?
When I walked out of the office this morning my glasses fogged up.
The building is collecting condensation on all the windows
I had to run the windsheild wipers to wipe of the condensation that formed where the A/C air is hitting the windsheild.
My hands are slipping off of my handbag straps as I walk down the street.
My hair has developed curls that have never been seen before.
The water on the pavement that leaked from watering the plants last night was still there when I left for work this morning.
Maybe if you've lived in Louisiana or Mississippi, you're used to this. But to me it is just too odd to see the whole building sweating like a cold pitcher of water.
How to cope?
Stay out of the sun (no brainer there).
Learn to live with sweat (sweat happens).
Use prickly heat powder (J&J makes one here).
Carry an umbrella.
Get outside once the sun goes down - or else you'll go mad!
Take a dip in the pool.
Speaking of which, I noticed this morning that the pool is now clean. When I got back from the US, it had been suffering from 3 weeks of no pool guy. It wasn't exactly green, but I couldn't see the bottom - murky. When he came by last Saturday, I saw him head out back, see the mess, and heave a heavy sigh. He mostly vacuumed when he was in on Saturday. When he left, it was still murky, but less so. This wasn't going to be solved in one visit. I figured it was probably ok to swim - I'm sure he had shocked the water. But it seemed less than inviting. Plus, I've been working late and not up for a swim when I finally have a moment around 9 or 9:30 (at that time, I'm feeling a lot like going to bed!) But today, after his second visit yesterday, the pool is crystal clear. I dipped my toe the other day. It's not bath water temps, but there won't be any hint of that cool-shock that you can get when you first get into a pool. I'm hankering for a swim tonight. After I clean the patio, maybe.
And a question for you physics-geeks out there - you know who you are. So, when it's hot - I mean really really hot - like say 110 or 115, it actually seems quieter when I go outside. Doors close more quietly, footsteps sound more muffled. Is it possible that the heat interferes with the transmission of sound? with my ears reception of sound? or am I just imagining it? It's also possible that it is actually more quiet. When it's hot like that - ain't no one wants to be out in that.
Edited to add
So, I looked it up and found this:
http://www.madsci.org/posts/archives/may98/896275999.Ph.r.html
It's not super conclusive, but does seem to point to sound traveling better in cold air. And from other web sites I looked at - it seems that maybe humidity has more to do with it than temps. I've yet to find something in plain English that will tell me if things sound more quiet when it is hot and humid. So, if you find it, post here.
Free Range Parenting
Did you know that there was a movement out there called Free Range Kids? It is an attempt to re-capture the ideas that children should be able to more freely explore their neighborhoods and community.
Statistically, there are fewer (not more) violent crimes committed today than when I was growing up. And there are NO MORE stranger abductions or molestations than when I was a kid (we just hear about it more on the fear-mongering news programs in the US). So, the danger is actually less for our kids, but our perception is that there is more danger.
So, at the age of 5 - what were you doing? Were you able to play outside in your yard with your friends without your parents having to be outside? Were you able to walk to the store to buy penny candy? Were you able to cross the street to get to the store? Were you riding the bus to school by yourself?
What about age 10? Were you riding your bike freely through the neighborhood? Were you exploring undeveloped plots of land or creating adventures at the creek/pond/whatever? Were you playing outside with groups of friends in other people's yard? Were you trusted to walk to the park or neighborhood recreational center? Were you allowed to take the bus to go somewhere? Were you walking yourself to school?
I was.
Was I ever approached inappropriately by strangers? Yes. Was I ever threatened by bullies? Yes. Was I ever in the wrong place (tresspassing) or venturing just a bit too far? Yes. Did I do things that would make my mother's hair turn grey? Yes. Did I ever get hurt and have to be taken to the hospital? Yes.
But, would I have been better off being sheltered in my home? Monitored by my parents? Overseen by other adults? Protected from possible dangers? No. No. No. No. I don't think so.
In today's world, we seem to have a parenting approach that prefers sheltering over exploration. Monitoring over mistakes. Protection over injury. What are we telling our children when we raise them this way? What does Lyra think about the world? Will she feel safe walking down the street as an adult? or will she feel an overwhelming sense of doom approaching around every corner? Will she see the world as being full of wonderful people (with a few weirdos, creeps and psychos sprinkled in) or will the world be full of psychos and creeps with the occassional surprisingly wonderful person?
There's something to be said about the spirit of adventure that today's kids are missing out on. A sense of being a responsible person. An understanding that they can be trusted to navigate their community. An expectation that they will make good choices as they move through the neighborhood or are approached by people. An anticipation that most of the people they meet will be kind and friendly.
The frustrating thing is that even if I wanted to choose Free Range Parenting, could I? Would other people view me as putting my child in danger. If you saw a 5-year old at the corner store buying candy without her parents there - what would you think/do? What about a 10-year old riding her bike to school nearly 1 mile away?
To me, the implications for Lyra and how she is allowed to live her life are huge. Because where do I draw the line? If I don't trust her to ride her bike a mile away at 10 will I trust her to choose her curriculum at school? Will she feel the confidence to know that she has the wherewithal to handle what life will throw at her? Am I communicating to her that I don't think she can handle it?
Someone wrote, "I'm raising adults - not children". That has resonated with me. I've been pondering that statement a lot. I like the perspective it puts on things.
Statistically, there are fewer (not more) violent crimes committed today than when I was growing up. And there are NO MORE stranger abductions or molestations than when I was a kid (we just hear about it more on the fear-mongering news programs in the US). So, the danger is actually less for our kids, but our perception is that there is more danger.
So, at the age of 5 - what were you doing? Were you able to play outside in your yard with your friends without your parents having to be outside? Were you able to walk to the store to buy penny candy? Were you able to cross the street to get to the store? Were you riding the bus to school by yourself?
What about age 10? Were you riding your bike freely through the neighborhood? Were you exploring undeveloped plots of land or creating adventures at the creek/pond/whatever? Were you playing outside with groups of friends in other people's yard? Were you trusted to walk to the park or neighborhood recreational center? Were you allowed to take the bus to go somewhere? Were you walking yourself to school?
I was.
Was I ever approached inappropriately by strangers? Yes. Was I ever threatened by bullies? Yes. Was I ever in the wrong place (tresspassing) or venturing just a bit too far? Yes. Did I do things that would make my mother's hair turn grey? Yes. Did I ever get hurt and have to be taken to the hospital? Yes.
But, would I have been better off being sheltered in my home? Monitored by my parents? Overseen by other adults? Protected from possible dangers? No. No. No. No. I don't think so.
In today's world, we seem to have a parenting approach that prefers sheltering over exploration. Monitoring over mistakes. Protection over injury. What are we telling our children when we raise them this way? What does Lyra think about the world? Will she feel safe walking down the street as an adult? or will she feel an overwhelming sense of doom approaching around every corner? Will she see the world as being full of wonderful people (with a few weirdos, creeps and psychos sprinkled in) or will the world be full of psychos and creeps with the occassional surprisingly wonderful person?
There's something to be said about the spirit of adventure that today's kids are missing out on. A sense of being a responsible person. An understanding that they can be trusted to navigate their community. An expectation that they will make good choices as they move through the neighborhood or are approached by people. An anticipation that most of the people they meet will be kind and friendly.
The frustrating thing is that even if I wanted to choose Free Range Parenting, could I? Would other people view me as putting my child in danger. If you saw a 5-year old at the corner store buying candy without her parents there - what would you think/do? What about a 10-year old riding her bike to school nearly 1 mile away?
To me, the implications for Lyra and how she is allowed to live her life are huge. Because where do I draw the line? If I don't trust her to ride her bike a mile away at 10 will I trust her to choose her curriculum at school? Will she feel the confidence to know that she has the wherewithal to handle what life will throw at her? Am I communicating to her that I don't think she can handle it?
Someone wrote, "I'm raising adults - not children". That has resonated with me. I've been pondering that statement a lot. I like the perspective it puts on things.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Quiz Night 2 - Answers
1. c - Taco Bell. I've always felt that Taco Bell was missing out on a great opportunity in the overseas market. Recently, a Chi-Chi's-like restaurant opened here called El Chico (a Saudi restaurant chain I think). Anyway - the thing is ALWAYS full. Mexican food is really popular here. Amygirl is right, the Arabs do love them some KFC and some Baskin Robbins - they are everywhere here (both of them).
2. d - Eddie Bauer. H&M has become one of my favorites. Especially when I'm shopping for "play clothes" or for Lyra. I had shopped there in Milwaukee (at Bay Shore) and in Chicago. But really discovered them here. The Gap shops and Nine West don't seem to carry the same mix of merchandise as back home. They seem to be more geared to the bling-bling styles here. But back home I noticed that bling is in everywhere, so maybe it's just me that is behind the fashion times. Noooo - that couldn't be it.
3. a - Acura. It is sold here under the Honda brand name. That is true in Europe, too. Acura seems to only be a brand that Honda maintains in the US. As for Cadillac, well the Escalade is probably the most popular Cadillac here. SUVs are alive and well in the Middle East. I think we could sell our FJ Cruiser for the same price as we bought it (nearly 1 year ago). Too bad that the US models are considered 2nd class here. Otherwise, dealers could be shipping all their overstock here to sell it.
4. b - Aveda. Evidently, since Aveda does not use preservatives in their products, they will not ship here due to the heat.
5. d - Chinese Chicken Salad. A shame, too. That is probably my new favorite in McDonald's these days. Here, they still pretty much have the old-fashioned, high fat offerings. They're starting to modernize and get more low fat options. But it doesn't have the same focus as in the US. The McArabia sandwich comes as either Chicken or Lamb. It is a large pita wrapped around the lettuce, tomatoes, meat, and a sauce (maybe a yogurt sauce). It's pretty good.
2. d - Eddie Bauer. H&M has become one of my favorites. Especially when I'm shopping for "play clothes" or for Lyra. I had shopped there in Milwaukee (at Bay Shore) and in Chicago. But really discovered them here. The Gap shops and Nine West don't seem to carry the same mix of merchandise as back home. They seem to be more geared to the bling-bling styles here. But back home I noticed that bling is in everywhere, so maybe it's just me that is behind the fashion times. Noooo - that couldn't be it.
3. a - Acura. It is sold here under the Honda brand name. That is true in Europe, too. Acura seems to only be a brand that Honda maintains in the US. As for Cadillac, well the Escalade is probably the most popular Cadillac here. SUVs are alive and well in the Middle East. I think we could sell our FJ Cruiser for the same price as we bought it (nearly 1 year ago). Too bad that the US models are considered 2nd class here. Otherwise, dealers could be shipping all their overstock here to sell it.
4. b - Aveda. Evidently, since Aveda does not use preservatives in their products, they will not ship here due to the heat.
5. d - Chinese Chicken Salad. A shame, too. That is probably my new favorite in McDonald's these days. Here, they still pretty much have the old-fashioned, high fat offerings. They're starting to modernize and get more low fat options. But it doesn't have the same focus as in the US. The McArabia sandwich comes as either Chicken or Lamb. It is a large pita wrapped around the lettuce, tomatoes, meat, and a sauce (maybe a yogurt sauce). It's pretty good.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Indian Radio
What I'm listening to these days (click on Listen Live):
http://arnonline.com/pulse953/
http://www.hit967.com/English/Pages/default.aspx
If you had radio like this would you chose anything else? I love it! I love how they switch back and forth from English to Hindi without pause.
I've given up on English radio - although there's one station that I will listen to now and again, but lately I've given up completely.
http://arnonline.com/pulse953/
http://www.hit967.com/English/Pages/default.aspx
If you had radio like this would you chose anything else? I love it! I love how they switch back and forth from English to Hindi without pause.
I've given up on English radio - although there's one station that I will listen to now and again, but lately I've given up completely.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Quiz Night 2
1) Which of these food chains is NOT in Dubai?
a) Dunkin Donuts
b) Baskin Robins
c) Taco Bell
d) Kentucky Fried Chicken
2) Which of these clothing store chains is NOT in Dubai?
a) Gap
b) H&M
c) Nine West
d) Eddie Bauer
3) Which of these car makes is NOT in Dubai?
a) Acura
b) Infinity
c) Lexus
d) Cadillac
4) Which of these beauty products is NOT available in Dubai?
a) Dermalogica
b) Aveda
c) Paul Mitchell
d) L'Occitane
5) Which of these items is NOT available at McDonald's in Dubai?
a) Happy Meal
b) McArabia Sandwich
c) McFlurry
d) Chinese Chicken Salad
a) Dunkin Donuts
b) Baskin Robins
c) Taco Bell
d) Kentucky Fried Chicken
2) Which of these clothing store chains is NOT in Dubai?
a) Gap
b) H&M
c) Nine West
d) Eddie Bauer
3) Which of these car makes is NOT in Dubai?
a) Acura
b) Infinity
c) Lexus
d) Cadillac
4) Which of these beauty products is NOT available in Dubai?
a) Dermalogica
b) Aveda
c) Paul Mitchell
d) L'Occitane
5) Which of these items is NOT available at McDonald's in Dubai?
a) Happy Meal
b) McArabia Sandwich
c) McFlurry
d) Chinese Chicken Salad
Friday, July 25, 2008
Jet Lag Update
Well, the whiskey helped - a little. I got to sleep the next night around 9pm. Or should I say I barely missed falling on the floor as I dragged my brain dead self to bed. But I woke up around 3am. Even though my brain was still aching from being tired, my stupid body thought it was time to get up. This is my usual jet lag pattern - fall asleep dead tired and then wake up after only 5 or 6 hours of sleep. Each night I will tend to sleep one hour later until after about 1 week I'm finally on my normal sleep cycle. I did try to get some more sleep, but it's pretty futile usually and was again this time.
Again, off to yoga for my 6:30 class. Again, it was a good choice to be up and doing something to help invigorate my sleep deprived brain. That day was nearly as long as the first. Every moment was a struggle to keep my brain engaged and stop yearning for the sleep time that was hours away. After work, I stopped at the grocery store and picked up Juno at the movie rental desk. I had heard from several folks during our visits that this was a great movie. And somehow I got a second wind and stayed up until midnight to finish watching it. I fell asleep exhausted and slept way past the 4am wake up I expected.
I was roused out of the deepest sleep by the ringing of the doorbell. I was so asleep I struggled at first to understand what was happening and what I should do. It was 7am. What?!? By sheer habit I dragged myself to the intercom. "Hello?" I croaked. "Madam, car wash?" It was our very kind but totally inept car wash man. I can appreciate that on a day where temps are set to soar to near 50 that he'd like to get the cars washed early, but really the fates are against me on this day. "Yes, just a second," and I stumbled upstairs to get something on.
As I came out into the car port he said, "Sorry to disturb, madam." He's really kind and we're soft hearted to keep having him come wash the cars. But he really needs the money. I would guess that with the $40/month we pay him and the next door neighbors pay him he is practically doubling his salary. And over time, with coaching, his car washing has improved so we keep letting him come. He certainly has a thing for making sure the tires are cleaned with tire foam and Son of a Gun.
Even though it was only 7 hours of sleep, today is the first day I've felt close to normal. I didn't doze off in the middle of a sentence. I had the energy to get Basil and the cats from the kennel. Now the place feels less empty - and I'm hoping for better luck tomorrow morning. I'll sip a wee dram just to be certain.
Again, off to yoga for my 6:30 class. Again, it was a good choice to be up and doing something to help invigorate my sleep deprived brain. That day was nearly as long as the first. Every moment was a struggle to keep my brain engaged and stop yearning for the sleep time that was hours away. After work, I stopped at the grocery store and picked up Juno at the movie rental desk. I had heard from several folks during our visits that this was a great movie. And somehow I got a second wind and stayed up until midnight to finish watching it. I fell asleep exhausted and slept way past the 4am wake up I expected.
I was roused out of the deepest sleep by the ringing of the doorbell. I was so asleep I struggled at first to understand what was happening and what I should do. It was 7am. What?!? By sheer habit I dragged myself to the intercom. "Hello?" I croaked. "Madam, car wash?" It was our very kind but totally inept car wash man. I can appreciate that on a day where temps are set to soar to near 50 that he'd like to get the cars washed early, but really the fates are against me on this day. "Yes, just a second," and I stumbled upstairs to get something on.
As I came out into the car port he said, "Sorry to disturb, madam." He's really kind and we're soft hearted to keep having him come wash the cars. But he really needs the money. I would guess that with the $40/month we pay him and the next door neighbors pay him he is practically doubling his salary. And over time, with coaching, his car washing has improved so we keep letting him come. He certainly has a thing for making sure the tires are cleaned with tire foam and Son of a Gun.
Even though it was only 7 hours of sleep, today is the first day I've felt close to normal. I didn't doze off in the middle of a sentence. I had the energy to get Basil and the cats from the kennel. Now the place feels less empty - and I'm hoping for better luck tomorrow morning. I'll sip a wee dram just to be certain.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Jet Lag - I've Got a Bad Case
Not as bad as when I threw up in Hong Kong, but just give me a few more hours. Won't be long and I'll be stumbling around the office like a drunken sailor.
I left the house in Milwaukee on Tuesday at 12:20pm their time (9:20pm Dubai time). First flight was a shorty into Chicago and then from Chicago the flight left around 7:30pm (4:30am Dubai time) for London. I had dinner while still on the ground in Chicago, so I got plenty of sleep on that flight over to the UK. Once again, London was putting on her most beautiful face. A gorgeous summer day greeted us when we landed. From London, we left around on Wednesday 12:30pm their time (3:30pm Dubai time) and got into Dubai just after 10pm local time. I had done a good job of staying awake during the flight to Dubai and was feeling pretty tired. When I called Russell to let him know I'd landed, I told him how I was feeling pretty good about how I was transitioning to the time change. I jinxed myself.
After getting my luggage and taking the taxi home, I arrived at just after 11pm (nearly 26 hours door to door). A quick perusal through the house - and then off to bed.
11:50 - So, to bed. My brain is going zing-ga-ding-ga-ding-ding at 100 miles per hour. Can't sleep, can't sleep, can't sleep, can't sleep, can't sleep.
12:20 - Turn on light and try a crossword. I'm so tired that my brain is heavy in my head and my eyes are aching.
12:40 - Back to bed. My brain continues to spin its own little vortex (who needs hurricanes?) House is quiet, I'm all alone, can't sleep, house is quiet, I'm all alone, can't sleep, house is quiet, I'm all alone, can't sleep. Is this what an over-tired toddler feels like?
1:30 - Turn on light and try to read. Really enjoying my book, Out of Africa. Keep reading, and reading, and reading, and reading - how come I'm not falling asleep? My brain is SOSOSOSO tired.
3:00 - Back to bed. Can't sleep, missing Russell & Lyra, can't sleep, missing Russell & Lyra, can't sleep, missing Russell & Lyra. Now I start to throw my own little pity party.
3:10 - Turn on light and go downstairs to call them. Talk to them on the phone for about 10 minutes. Lyra tells me how she had to have 4 people hold her down for her 3 jabs and 1 blood draw at the doctor. I ask her, "Wasn't it scary to have 4 people hold you down?" She said, "No, because when I saw those needles I wanted to be out of there." I asked, "How old do you think you'll be when you don't need to be held down to have a jab? six? seven?" She replied, "Probably eight." - Note to Lyra: Those pierced ears are going to have to wait.
3:30 - Back to bed. This time I will NOT turn on the light, even if I'm just laying there thinking over and over: I wish I could sleep, I'm so tired, I can't sleep, I wish I could sleep, I can't sleep.
4:28 - Allah Akbar, Allah Akbar. The two mosques start their call to prayer. I have missed those guys. They're so soothing in the morning.
4:56 - The prayers start.
5:06 - I tell myself, if by some miracle I have fallen asleep in the next 25 minutes before my alarm goes off, I'm just going to keep sleeping. I wonder if I'll fall asleep? Hmmm, am I asleep? Nope. Hmmmm, am I asleep? Nope.
5:30 - Alarm goes off. This is ridiculous - I should just turn that off and go to sleep. Problem is, it is now 8:30pm in Milwaukee and if I fall asleep now, I'll just want to stay asleep until 3 in the afternoon. That's just creating the same problem for tomorrow. Oh, but I want so much to SLEEP!
5:32 - I decide to get up and go to yoga. Maybe that will energize me.
Actually, the yoga was a very choice. Except for one thing. If you're feeling woozy, don't bend over backward.
The day stretches out before me like a long endurance test. I'm looking at things, but not seeing them. Hearing things, but not understanding. Saying things, but not even following my own train of thought. Walking, but not knowing where I'm going.
Tonight, I'm going to bed with a glass of whiskey - a tall one. Wish me luck.
I left the house in Milwaukee on Tuesday at 12:20pm their time (9:20pm Dubai time). First flight was a shorty into Chicago and then from Chicago the flight left around 7:30pm (4:30am Dubai time) for London. I had dinner while still on the ground in Chicago, so I got plenty of sleep on that flight over to the UK. Once again, London was putting on her most beautiful face. A gorgeous summer day greeted us when we landed. From London, we left around on Wednesday 12:30pm their time (3:30pm Dubai time) and got into Dubai just after 10pm local time. I had done a good job of staying awake during the flight to Dubai and was feeling pretty tired. When I called Russell to let him know I'd landed, I told him how I was feeling pretty good about how I was transitioning to the time change. I jinxed myself.
After getting my luggage and taking the taxi home, I arrived at just after 11pm (nearly 26 hours door to door). A quick perusal through the house - and then off to bed.
11:50 - So, to bed. My brain is going zing-ga-ding-ga-ding-ding at 100 miles per hour. Can't sleep, can't sleep, can't sleep, can't sleep, can't sleep.
12:20 - Turn on light and try a crossword. I'm so tired that my brain is heavy in my head and my eyes are aching.
12:40 - Back to bed. My brain continues to spin its own little vortex (who needs hurricanes?) House is quiet, I'm all alone, can't sleep, house is quiet, I'm all alone, can't sleep, house is quiet, I'm all alone, can't sleep. Is this what an over-tired toddler feels like?
1:30 - Turn on light and try to read. Really enjoying my book, Out of Africa. Keep reading, and reading, and reading, and reading - how come I'm not falling asleep? My brain is SOSOSOSO tired.
3:00 - Back to bed. Can't sleep, missing Russell & Lyra, can't sleep, missing Russell & Lyra, can't sleep, missing Russell & Lyra. Now I start to throw my own little pity party.
3:10 - Turn on light and go downstairs to call them. Talk to them on the phone for about 10 minutes. Lyra tells me how she had to have 4 people hold her down for her 3 jabs and 1 blood draw at the doctor. I ask her, "Wasn't it scary to have 4 people hold you down?" She said, "No, because when I saw those needles I wanted to be out of there." I asked, "How old do you think you'll be when you don't need to be held down to have a jab? six? seven?" She replied, "Probably eight." - Note to Lyra: Those pierced ears are going to have to wait.
3:30 - Back to bed. This time I will NOT turn on the light, even if I'm just laying there thinking over and over: I wish I could sleep, I'm so tired, I can't sleep, I wish I could sleep, I can't sleep.
4:28 - Allah Akbar, Allah Akbar. The two mosques start their call to prayer. I have missed those guys. They're so soothing in the morning.
4:56 - The prayers start.
5:06 - I tell myself, if by some miracle I have fallen asleep in the next 25 minutes before my alarm goes off, I'm just going to keep sleeping. I wonder if I'll fall asleep? Hmmm, am I asleep? Nope. Hmmmm, am I asleep? Nope.
5:30 - Alarm goes off. This is ridiculous - I should just turn that off and go to sleep. Problem is, it is now 8:30pm in Milwaukee and if I fall asleep now, I'll just want to stay asleep until 3 in the afternoon. That's just creating the same problem for tomorrow. Oh, but I want so much to SLEEP!
5:32 - I decide to get up and go to yoga. Maybe that will energize me.
Actually, the yoga was a very choice. Except for one thing. If you're feeling woozy, don't bend over backward.
The day stretches out before me like a long endurance test. I'm looking at things, but not seeing them. Hearing things, but not understanding. Saying things, but not even following my own train of thought. Walking, but not knowing where I'm going.
Tonight, I'm going to bed with a glass of whiskey - a tall one. Wish me luck.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Cow Meetings
The other day at dinner, I offered Lyra a bite of my tasty meatloaf.
Lyra: Is that cow?
Me: Yes [I used to answer that question with - No, it's meat. But that doesn't work any more.]
L: I don't eat cow.
M: Why not?
L: I like to save the cows so we can have milk.
M: Well, the cows that give milk aren't usually the same as the cows we eat.
L: Why not?
M: Only girl cows give milk and usually the cows we eat are boys.
L: Nuh-uh. Boy cows give milk, too.
M: No, just girl cows.
L: Nuh-uh. What if the mama cow is gone, the baba needs to feed the baby cow.
M: Well, the mama cow is never gone. It's always the mama that feeds the baby. Only mama cows have the udders to hold the milk.
L: Nuh-uh, baba cows have milk. What if the mama cow needs to go to a meeting and talk to other cows? The baba needs to feed the baby.
M: [Imaging the cow meeting] Well, mama cows don't really go to meetings they are always taking care of the baby.
L: What if the farmer takes the mama cow's milk? Then the baby wouldn't have anything to eat? Who would feed the baby then?
M: The farmer knows which mama cows have babies and he doesn't take their milk. He leaves it for the baby to eat.
It ended there, but she's still not convinced.
Lyra: Is that cow?
Me: Yes [I used to answer that question with - No, it's meat. But that doesn't work any more.]
L: I don't eat cow.
M: Why not?
L: I like to save the cows so we can have milk.
M: Well, the cows that give milk aren't usually the same as the cows we eat.
L: Why not?
M: Only girl cows give milk and usually the cows we eat are boys.
L: Nuh-uh. Boy cows give milk, too.
M: No, just girl cows.
L: Nuh-uh. What if the mama cow is gone, the baba needs to feed the baby cow.
M: Well, the mama cow is never gone. It's always the mama that feeds the baby. Only mama cows have the udders to hold the milk.
L: Nuh-uh, baba cows have milk. What if the mama cow needs to go to a meeting and talk to other cows? The baba needs to feed the baby.
M: [Imaging the cow meeting] Well, mama cows don't really go to meetings they are always taking care of the baby.
L: What if the farmer takes the mama cow's milk? Then the baby wouldn't have anything to eat? Who would feed the baby then?
M: The farmer knows which mama cows have babies and he doesn't take their milk. He leaves it for the baby to eat.
It ended there, but she's still not convinced.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
A Day for Needles
Needle #1 and 2
Much to my disappointment, my dentist discovered a cavity at my last check up. I decided to take care of it while still here in the US. I like my Polish dentist, Jadwiga Krol. She's good. Plus, I like that I know someone named Jadwiga.
Laying in the chair, I was a bit nervous. She first applied the topical anaesthetic before Needle #1 emerged. Tell me, why do dentists have to have these stainless steel syringes that look like they just came out of Dr. Frankensteins lab? Because really, this does nothing but send my blood pressure to the ceiling. A quick pinch - and it's really not so bad. Jadwiga's nice enough to give me a quick jolt of novacaine and let the numbness settle in before really giving me the full dose with Needle #2.
After several spine tingling minutes of that drill-from-hell sound that only a dental drill can produce, I had a nice neat hole in my tooth. This is one moment when it would pay to be deaf. I try to relax and let the sound not bother me, but I can't. I knew in high school I'd have to cross Dental School off the list of possible school options. I could never stand that sound.
She proceeded to attach some stainless steel screw-clamp thingy to my tooth and shoved a couple other things around my tooth that I could tell would really hurt if I wasn't numbed. I've never seen such a contraption bolted to my teeth. More Dr. Frankenstein lab stuff - hello dentists of the world - you could do yourselves a favor by laying off these gizmos. I'm thinking it must be because I got a white enamel filling rather than silver. I kept trying to catch a glimpse of all that was going on in Jadwiga's glasses (I love a dentist that wears glasses). But she had these cool jeweler-like magnifying lenses (you know the ones that they look through to tell you if there are any flaws in your diamond) that were attached to her glasses and kept getting in the way of my seeing what was going on. Probably for the best.
Needles #3, 4, 5 . . . . to infinity
And then I went to get my tatoo. The new tatoo artist in town has had an influx of customers from all the moms in Bay View. I think I was mom-customer number 5 (or something like that). Oddly enough - of all our friends in Bay View - the moms have tatoos and the dads don't (except for one dad who has a few). How weird is that? I told you we have the coolest friends.
I have had a design in mind for years - but I needed to bring something with me from Dubai. When packing 3 weeks ago, getting a tatoo wasn't on my list of things to do. So, I didn't have the design with me. Instead, I got an Ohm** (see right) tatooed on the back of my neck, near my hair-line. I'll have a photo made and post it here soon.
Tatoo-dude, Julio, was worried that it would be too small (it's less than 1"x1"). He said, "People are going to have to get real close to see what it is." I think we come at this tatoo thing from two totally different perspectives. He's got his arms and legs (and maybe his body) covered with tatoos. He's made a statement to the world using his body that you can see coming down the street. My statement is a bit more understated, more private - it's a statement for me not for the world. I don't care if someone mistakes my tatoo for a weird birth mark or has to squint and says, "What is that?"
After my trip to the dentist, I was a bit twitchy about the needle part. My memory of the last tatoo was faint and I couldn't remember how much it really was going to hurt. When Julio touched my neck (with his hands) to start the tatoo, I nearly jumped out of my skin. But as with most things, the anticipation is worse than the actual experience. I timed him - 4 minutes of tatooing was his estimate. He was right.
I'll take needles #3, 4, 5 to infinity a hundred times over needles #1 and 2. Not so much because of the needles, but tatoo needles are much less painful than dentist needles. It's the freakin' drill - I hate it. Lyra would tell me, "That's not a nice word. You shouldn't say 'hate'". I have tried explaining that inanimate ojects cannot have their feelings hurt. But she still wouldn't let me off. So, perhaps I should say something else like: "I loathe it or I despise it or I abhor it or I detest it" - there. I think those words aren't in her vocabulary, yet.
Much to my disappointment, my dentist discovered a cavity at my last check up. I decided to take care of it while still here in the US. I like my Polish dentist, Jadwiga Krol. She's good. Plus, I like that I know someone named Jadwiga.
Laying in the chair, I was a bit nervous. She first applied the topical anaesthetic before Needle #1 emerged. Tell me, why do dentists have to have these stainless steel syringes that look like they just came out of Dr. Frankensteins lab? Because really, this does nothing but send my blood pressure to the ceiling. A quick pinch - and it's really not so bad. Jadwiga's nice enough to give me a quick jolt of novacaine and let the numbness settle in before really giving me the full dose with Needle #2.
After several spine tingling minutes of that drill-from-hell sound that only a dental drill can produce, I had a nice neat hole in my tooth. This is one moment when it would pay to be deaf. I try to relax and let the sound not bother me, but I can't. I knew in high school I'd have to cross Dental School off the list of possible school options. I could never stand that sound.
She proceeded to attach some stainless steel screw-clamp thingy to my tooth and shoved a couple other things around my tooth that I could tell would really hurt if I wasn't numbed. I've never seen such a contraption bolted to my teeth. More Dr. Frankenstein lab stuff - hello dentists of the world - you could do yourselves a favor by laying off these gizmos. I'm thinking it must be because I got a white enamel filling rather than silver. I kept trying to catch a glimpse of all that was going on in Jadwiga's glasses (I love a dentist that wears glasses). But she had these cool jeweler-like magnifying lenses (you know the ones that they look through to tell you if there are any flaws in your diamond) that were attached to her glasses and kept getting in the way of my seeing what was going on. Probably for the best.
Needles #3, 4, 5 . . . . to infinity
And then I went to get my tatoo. The new tatoo artist in town has had an influx of customers from all the moms in Bay View. I think I was mom-customer number 5 (or something like that). Oddly enough - of all our friends in Bay View - the moms have tatoos and the dads don't (except for one dad who has a few). How weird is that? I told you we have the coolest friends.
I have had a design in mind for years - but I needed to bring something with me from Dubai. When packing 3 weeks ago, getting a tatoo wasn't on my list of things to do. So, I didn't have the design with me. Instead, I got an Ohm** (see right) tatooed on the back of my neck, near my hair-line. I'll have a photo made and post it here soon.Tatoo-dude, Julio, was worried that it would be too small (it's less than 1"x1"). He said, "People are going to have to get real close to see what it is." I think we come at this tatoo thing from two totally different perspectives. He's got his arms and legs (and maybe his body) covered with tatoos. He's made a statement to the world using his body that you can see coming down the street. My statement is a bit more understated, more private - it's a statement for me not for the world. I don't care if someone mistakes my tatoo for a weird birth mark or has to squint and says, "What is that?"
After my trip to the dentist, I was a bit twitchy about the needle part. My memory of the last tatoo was faint and I couldn't remember how much it really was going to hurt. When Julio touched my neck (with his hands) to start the tatoo, I nearly jumped out of my skin. But as with most things, the anticipation is worse than the actual experience. I timed him - 4 minutes of tatooing was his estimate. He was right.
I'll take needles #3, 4, 5 to infinity a hundred times over needles #1 and 2. Not so much because of the needles, but tatoo needles are much less painful than dentist needles. It's the freakin' drill - I hate it. Lyra would tell me, "That's not a nice word. You shouldn't say 'hate'". I have tried explaining that inanimate ojects cannot have their feelings hurt. But she still wouldn't let me off. So, perhaps I should say something else like: "I loathe it or I despise it or I abhor it or I detest it" - there. I think those words aren't in her vocabulary, yet.
**Ohm, besides being the measure of electrical resistance between two points of a conductor, is the symbol for one of the chakras (energy centers) in Yoga - the Ajna chakra. The Ajna chakra is the "3rd eye". In Yoga, the chakra represents the unification of duality in the body; the meeting of consiousness and unconsiousness, sun and moon, creative and logical, hot and cold, left and right, etc. If I wanted to be technically correct, I should have had Ohm tatooed onto my forhead between my eyebrows. Call me a yoga-rebel.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Things To Do in Milwaukee
Someone asked me - "What have you been looking forward to doing while you're back?"
1. Visit with friends and family. I almost eliminated this one from the list because it is so TOPS of the list that all other "want to do" items pale in comparison. There's no denying that we have the coolest family and friends - it is so good to be back amongst them. We are just loving every moment of seeing everyone and being together with folks.
2. Have a Tamarindo Margarita from Riviera Maya and order their mole sampler with chips.
3. Sit in the park during the South Shore Farmers Market.
4. Watch the South Shore Frolics Parade.
5. Drive 'Ms Jewl' - the RX-8.
6. Eat a slice of Di Marini's pizza (sausage, onion, mushroom and green olive).
7. Order a Brandy Manhattan
8. See the sail boats on the lake from the crest of the Hoan Bridge
9. Sleep with the windows open
10. Browse the shops of the 3rd Ward.
Some things I've done that were completely a surprise and wonderful:
1. Rent a pontoon boat to cruise the rivers and canals downtown.
2. Go to Humboldt Park for Chill on the Hill Tuesday nights
3. Head to Bastille Days for the Storming of the Bastille
4. Visit the new Sugar Maple in Bay View - a smoke free bar
5. See the Mother Truckers (actually this was in Minneapolis - but they're coming to Vnuk's so that kinda counts as something to do in Milwaukee)
6. Get a tatoo
7. Watch Wizard of Oz with Lyra, Mimi and Russell
Edited to add:
I missed doing items number 3 (it rained) and number 7 (ordered a Brandy Old Fashioned Sweet instead).
1. Visit with friends and family. I almost eliminated this one from the list because it is so TOPS of the list that all other "want to do" items pale in comparison. There's no denying that we have the coolest family and friends - it is so good to be back amongst them. We are just loving every moment of seeing everyone and being together with folks.
2. Have a Tamarindo Margarita from Riviera Maya and order their mole sampler with chips.
3. Sit in the park during the South Shore Farmers Market.
4. Watch the South Shore Frolics Parade.
5. Drive 'Ms Jewl' - the RX-8.
6. Eat a slice of Di Marini's pizza (sausage, onion, mushroom and green olive).
7. Order a Brandy Manhattan
8. See the sail boats on the lake from the crest of the Hoan Bridge
9. Sleep with the windows open
10. Browse the shops of the 3rd Ward.
Some things I've done that were completely a surprise and wonderful:
1. Rent a pontoon boat to cruise the rivers and canals downtown.
2. Go to Humboldt Park for Chill on the Hill Tuesday nights
3. Head to Bastille Days for the Storming of the Bastille
4. Visit the new Sugar Maple in Bay View - a smoke free bar
5. See the Mother Truckers (actually this was in Minneapolis - but they're coming to Vnuk's so that kinda counts as something to do in Milwaukee)
6. Get a tatoo
7. Watch Wizard of Oz with Lyra, Mimi and Russell
Edited to add:
I missed doing items number 3 (it rained) and number 7 (ordered a Brandy Old Fashioned Sweet instead).
Monday, July 14, 2008
Answers to Common Dubai Questions
1. No, I'm not as tan as you expected. That's because it's too hot in Dubai to be in the sun. In February, I'm slathering on SPF 70 because I can feel my skin sizzling. When you have sunshine every day of the week - you're more concerned with protecting yourself.
2. Yes, Dubai is as amazing as those powerpoint slides you've seen going around. Most of those buildings are already being built. The pace of construction is as crazy as it seems.
3. Yes, we're glad we have made the move. It has been a great experience for us as a family. We've seen and experienced more than we ever could have if we hadn't done this. But we'll be glad to be home when our time is up.
4. No, we don't have to speak in Arabic. We've only learned a few words. Everyone knows English and all business is conducted in English. If we wanted to learn a foreign language, it would probably have been better to learn Hindi - given the large population of Indian and Pakistanis in Dubai.
5. Yes, Dubai is a very livable place. The houses are spacious, roads are big and wide, cars are big, shops carry products we're familiar with - all very similar to the US.
6. No, I don't have any issues being a woman in the workplace there. The offices are very much like any office in the US or Europe. There are many women, there are people from all over the world - and very few Emiratis working in our office. That's because 85% of the population in Dubai are not Emiratis - they are from somewhere else.
7. Yes, we have women in the office who wear a black abaya and shayla. However, no one in our office in Dubai covers her face - but there is one woman in the Saudi office who does cover her face in the presence of men (only her eyes show). But people here do not treat women differently just because they are covered.
8. Yes, I enjoy my work there. I like the team I'm working with, the office environment is pretty much the same as any office in Europe or the US. I am a bit more unique as a woman in management - but I don't feel that it changes the way I'm treated.
9. Yes, Lyra likes her school. We were very lucky to find a great Montessori school for her. She made good friends and adored her teacher, Miss Sita. She will be starting a new school in September, the Universal American School. They follow the IB system and she'll be in their 5-year old kindergarten program.
10. No, Russell has not been working. Up until now, he's been home full-time with Lyra. When she starts full-time school in the fall, he is thinking that he'd like to find something to help keep him busy. In the meantime, he's certified as a scuba diver and has taken up working out at our health club.
If you have any other questions, please send them to me in the comments.
2. Yes, Dubai is as amazing as those powerpoint slides you've seen going around. Most of those buildings are already being built. The pace of construction is as crazy as it seems.
3. Yes, we're glad we have made the move. It has been a great experience for us as a family. We've seen and experienced more than we ever could have if we hadn't done this. But we'll be glad to be home when our time is up.
4. No, we don't have to speak in Arabic. We've only learned a few words. Everyone knows English and all business is conducted in English. If we wanted to learn a foreign language, it would probably have been better to learn Hindi - given the large population of Indian and Pakistanis in Dubai.
5. Yes, Dubai is a very livable place. The houses are spacious, roads are big and wide, cars are big, shops carry products we're familiar with - all very similar to the US.
6. No, I don't have any issues being a woman in the workplace there. The offices are very much like any office in the US or Europe. There are many women, there are people from all over the world - and very few Emiratis working in our office. That's because 85% of the population in Dubai are not Emiratis - they are from somewhere else.
7. Yes, we have women in the office who wear a black abaya and shayla. However, no one in our office in Dubai covers her face - but there is one woman in the Saudi office who does cover her face in the presence of men (only her eyes show). But people here do not treat women differently just because they are covered.
8. Yes, I enjoy my work there. I like the team I'm working with, the office environment is pretty much the same as any office in Europe or the US. I am a bit more unique as a woman in management - but I don't feel that it changes the way I'm treated.
9. Yes, Lyra likes her school. We were very lucky to find a great Montessori school for her. She made good friends and adored her teacher, Miss Sita. She will be starting a new school in September, the Universal American School. They follow the IB system and she'll be in their 5-year old kindergarten program.
10. No, Russell has not been working. Up until now, he's been home full-time with Lyra. When she starts full-time school in the fall, he is thinking that he'd like to find something to help keep him busy. In the meantime, he's certified as a scuba diver and has taken up working out at our health club.
If you have any other questions, please send them to me in the comments.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Yes, Ma'am
Never in my life have I heard "Yes, Ma'am" more than living in Dubai. But you soon learn that "Yes, Ma'am" does not mean "I agree with what you've said". Instead it means something more like, "Your lips just moved and a sound came out of your mouth." Ways that I've heard it used:
Driving with a taxi driver, I give him instructions to take the next left. "Yes, Ma'am" as we continue to drive in the right hand lane. "Left please," I say with a little more force. "Yes, Ma'am" continuing in the right hand lane. "Left NOW," I say as we swerve across 2 lanes of traffic to execute a left hand turn. Oh my!
Speaking with a delivery person, I ask them if they will deliver tomorrow or Saturday. "Yes, Ma'am" is my reply. "Which one?" I ask. "Yes, Ma'am." "Your delivery - on Friday or Saturday? Friday? or Saturday?" "Saturday," is finally the answer.
Looking for directions, I ask someone if a shop I'm looking for is down the next street. "Yes, Ma'am," I'm told. After driving back and forth down the next street without success, I ask someone else, "Is the shop on this street?" Of course it's not. Next time, I'll remember the meaning of "Yes, Ma'am" - I saw your lips move and sound came out of your mouth.
I've been told that it's more important to try and be helpful than to tell someone no. So, even if someone has no idea what you've just said or the answer to your question, they will still respond, "Yes, Ma'am."
Driving with a taxi driver, I give him instructions to take the next left. "Yes, Ma'am" as we continue to drive in the right hand lane. "Left please," I say with a little more force. "Yes, Ma'am" continuing in the right hand lane. "Left NOW," I say as we swerve across 2 lanes of traffic to execute a left hand turn. Oh my!
Speaking with a delivery person, I ask them if they will deliver tomorrow or Saturday. "Yes, Ma'am" is my reply. "Which one?" I ask. "Yes, Ma'am." "Your delivery - on Friday or Saturday? Friday? or Saturday?" "Saturday," is finally the answer.
Looking for directions, I ask someone if a shop I'm looking for is down the next street. "Yes, Ma'am," I'm told. After driving back and forth down the next street without success, I ask someone else, "Is the shop on this street?" Of course it's not. Next time, I'll remember the meaning of "Yes, Ma'am" - I saw your lips move and sound came out of your mouth.
I've been told that it's more important to try and be helpful than to tell someone no. So, even if someone has no idea what you've just said or the answer to your question, they will still respond, "Yes, Ma'am."
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Grammy Camp 2008
Can you OD on family? I don't think so - at least not with mine. And believe me, we tried! The whole fam-damnly was in Minneapolis this past week. All except B-I-L and oldest nephew - they had to work. But the rest of us were all there - including Lyra's Great Grandma, my grandmother.
Grammy Camp is a "fat camp". But instead of going to Grammy Camp to lose weight, you go their to gain it. Even as we were groaning in agony from eating way too much we were plotting and planning our next meal. Oh boy were they great meals! Pork chops on the grill, juicy cheeseburgers, Davanni's pizza, pulled pork sandwiches - its was an eating fest!
The icing on the cake was a Pannekoeken Huis discovered by my sister. We were sure they had long-ago disappeared. But now they're back. Complete with the "PANNEKOEKEN" yell as the server hurries from the kitchen to your table. As we sampled one another's pannekoekens it was hard to decide if the Classic (with lemon and powdered sugar), the Rhubarb (with fresh strawberries), or the Bacon (with a side of applesauce) was the winner.
It was so much fun, we're planning Grammy Camp 2009. Dates to be announced.
Grammy Camp is a "fat camp". But instead of going to Grammy Camp to lose weight, you go their to gain it. Even as we were groaning in agony from eating way too much we were plotting and planning our next meal. Oh boy were they great meals! Pork chops on the grill, juicy cheeseburgers, Davanni's pizza, pulled pork sandwiches - its was an eating fest!
The icing on the cake was a Pannekoeken Huis discovered by my sister. We were sure they had long-ago disappeared. But now they're back. Complete with the "PANNEKOEKEN" yell as the server hurries from the kitchen to your table. As we sampled one another's pannekoekens it was hard to decide if the Classic (with lemon and powdered sugar), the Rhubarb (with fresh strawberries), or the Bacon (with a side of applesauce) was the winner.
It was so much fun, we're planning Grammy Camp 2009. Dates to be announced.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Rambling
I love walking. In the UK, they call it rambling. The footpaths that cross the country are a national treasure there. No matter where you go - in the heart of London or in the countryside you can always find a footpath marked out. They're literally everywhere.
But even before we lived in the UK, I loved walking. Whenever we would go on a vacation or holiday, especially in the National or State parks, I'd scope out the map looking for a good walk to go on. It's like the trail is calling to me. I can barely resist the urge to get on the trail. I'm forever promoting my agenda to everyone else - let's go on a walk. "Listen to this," I'll say. And then proceed to read the synopsis of what we might see on this particular walk. I've found that waterfalls are a good lure for others. But to me, I really don't care. I just want to walk.
Walking is not just a countryside activity for me. I love city walks. Our neighborhood in Miwaukee is a great one. There's always a garden to admire, a house being renovated, or the boats of the lake (Lake Michigan) to watch as you stroll through our neighborhood. A walk into "downtown" Bay View is always nice for a cup of coffee and a browse through the independent shops up and down the street. I'll miss being able to pop in to Schwartz Book shop.
This is one of the things that Dubai is missing for me - walking. (Well, they do have the "Mall Walkers" club.) There are some hikes that I've scoped out - and when it's winter again I'll try and lure the family to head out for a walk. Will be hard to convince them of any exciting waterfalls that will await us.
But even before we lived in the UK, I loved walking. Whenever we would go on a vacation or holiday, especially in the National or State parks, I'd scope out the map looking for a good walk to go on. It's like the trail is calling to me. I can barely resist the urge to get on the trail. I'm forever promoting my agenda to everyone else - let's go on a walk. "Listen to this," I'll say. And then proceed to read the synopsis of what we might see on this particular walk. I've found that waterfalls are a good lure for others. But to me, I really don't care. I just want to walk.
Walking is not just a countryside activity for me. I love city walks. Our neighborhood in Miwaukee is a great one. There's always a garden to admire, a house being renovated, or the boats of the lake (Lake Michigan) to watch as you stroll through our neighborhood. A walk into "downtown" Bay View is always nice for a cup of coffee and a browse through the independent shops up and down the street. I'll miss being able to pop in to Schwartz Book shop.
This is one of the things that Dubai is missing for me - walking. (Well, they do have the "Mall Walkers" club.) There are some hikes that I've scoped out - and when it's winter again I'll try and lure the family to head out for a walk. Will be hard to convince them of any exciting waterfalls that will await us.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Lovely London
I love London. It was great to be back. We had perfect weather while we were there - cool in the shade and warm in the sun. It's nice to visit there and not feel like we need to rush about seeing everything. Certainly there are new things there to be seen, but it's just as pleasant to wander about and experience the city like we did when we lived there.
The dangerous thing about having lovely weather while we were there is it lures you into remembering only the wonderful things about living in London. Most Londoners will tell you that they've been having bad weather lately - like for the last three years. Cold and dreary winters followed by cold and rainy summers. There's nothing more dreary than a damp wet overcast winter day in London. I used to say, "The tornados and blizzards in the US can kill you in an instant, but with London weather it's a long slow death."
When we moved back home to the US it was November. We were nearly giddy with the thought of bright cold crisp winter days. So many people wondered why we'd be moving back just before the winter (not that we had any real control over the timing), but we were happy to be leaving London before the dark grey days of winter set in.
The first few years we were back in Wisconsin, I was so homesick for London. I still am at times. Watching the BBC (the real BBC, not BBC America or BBC World) or listening on-line to London radio can really make me pine for it. Being back this week was a great opportunity to re-acquaint with the city for a few days.
The introduction of congestion charging seems to have reduced the amount of traffic and pollution. You know Dubai air has to be dirty when you find London to be fresh and clean. But the true test is to check the color of your buggers when you blow your nose after a day wandering the city. Still dark, but not as black as I remember. Now that's progress.
The dangerous thing about having lovely weather while we were there is it lures you into remembering only the wonderful things about living in London. Most Londoners will tell you that they've been having bad weather lately - like for the last three years. Cold and dreary winters followed by cold and rainy summers. There's nothing more dreary than a damp wet overcast winter day in London. I used to say, "The tornados and blizzards in the US can kill you in an instant, but with London weather it's a long slow death."
When we moved back home to the US it was November. We were nearly giddy with the thought of bright cold crisp winter days. So many people wondered why we'd be moving back just before the winter (not that we had any real control over the timing), but we were happy to be leaving London before the dark grey days of winter set in.
The first few years we were back in Wisconsin, I was so homesick for London. I still am at times. Watching the BBC (the real BBC, not BBC America or BBC World) or listening on-line to London radio can really make me pine for it. Being back this week was a great opportunity to re-acquaint with the city for a few days.
The introduction of congestion charging seems to have reduced the amount of traffic and pollution. You know Dubai air has to be dirty when you find London to be fresh and clean. But the true test is to check the color of your buggers when you blow your nose after a day wandering the city. Still dark, but not as black as I remember. Now that's progress.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Learning to Read
For the past couple of weeks, Lyra and I have been working on some reading lessons. Right now, we're still in the early stages of learning the sounds and then stringing sounds together to make words.
The book that I'm using starts with some of the easy sounds first: mmmmm, sssssss, rrrrrrr, t (which you have to say fast), eeeeee.
A couple of days ago, they introduced the "th" sound as in that or this. So, not the breathy, thhhhhhh of thing. No, the buzzing thhhhh of that.
I mentioned earlier that Lyra has not yet pronouced 'th'. She'll say: Somesing, dat, noffing, but not "th".
So, a lot of our time is spent on just learning how to pronounce that buzzing thhhhh. She tries so hard it comes out: blghblghblhg, zzzzzzzzzz, or dddddd.
Imagine her sounding out TH-A-T; blghblghblghlbhg - aaaaaaaa - t.
"Lyra, say thththtaaaat." "zzzzzzzzat"
What's the word? "zat".
Close enough.
The book that I'm using starts with some of the easy sounds first: mmmmm, sssssss, rrrrrrr, t (which you have to say fast), eeeeee.
A couple of days ago, they introduced the "th" sound as in that or this. So, not the breathy, thhhhhhh of thing. No, the buzzing thhhhh of that.
I mentioned earlier that Lyra has not yet pronouced 'th'. She'll say: Somesing, dat, noffing, but not "th".
So, a lot of our time is spent on just learning how to pronounce that buzzing thhhhh. She tries so hard it comes out: blghblghblhg, zzzzzzzzzz, or dddddd.
Imagine her sounding out TH-A-T; blghblghblghlbhg - aaaaaaaa - t.
"Lyra, say thththtaaaat." "zzzzzzzzat"
What's the word? "zat".
Close enough.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Will We Be Cold?
Well, the heat has arrived again. Yesterday, I got into my car to head out for some errands and the temp read 51C (I'll leave that for you to figure out). Actually, it was probably more like 45 or 46 - but the car had been sitting in the sun heating up.
The pool in the back is nice and comfortable right now. We've had lots of dust for the past 2 weeks. The whole sky has been a nice beige color (no sign of blue) and the sun barely shines through the haze. It has meant some nicer temps and a cooling of the pool. But now that's over - back to sunny and blazing. Saw a hint of blue sky today - if I looked straight up. Still beige and hazy if you look out onto the horizon.
We're getting ready to head back home for a few weeks. I'll be home for 3 weeks and Russell and Lyra will be staying for an additional 3 or 4 weeks. I've been telling Russell that I think we'll be cold when we're home. We've acclimated here to the point that a 90F day is comfortable. So, if temps are in the 80's, we may find that cool. And if nighttime temps are down into the 60s or 70s, that will be downright chilly. I don't think Russell's convinced. But I'm packing some long sleeves and sweaters (in addition to some shorts and short sleeves).
What do you think? Will we be cold?
The pool in the back is nice and comfortable right now. We've had lots of dust for the past 2 weeks. The whole sky has been a nice beige color (no sign of blue) and the sun barely shines through the haze. It has meant some nicer temps and a cooling of the pool. But now that's over - back to sunny and blazing. Saw a hint of blue sky today - if I looked straight up. Still beige and hazy if you look out onto the horizon.
We're getting ready to head back home for a few weeks. I'll be home for 3 weeks and Russell and Lyra will be staying for an additional 3 or 4 weeks. I've been telling Russell that I think we'll be cold when we're home. We've acclimated here to the point that a 90F day is comfortable. So, if temps are in the 80's, we may find that cool. And if nighttime temps are down into the 60s or 70s, that will be downright chilly. I don't think Russell's convinced. But I'm packing some long sleeves and sweaters (in addition to some shorts and short sleeves).
What do you think? Will we be cold?
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Belly Laughs
The scene: 4:15am, Russell switches on the light next to his bed.
Me: Grrrr. [covers head with pillow]
Russell: Sorry, can't sleep.
I hear the silent rustle of pages as he reads.
Russell: hee, hee, hee . . . sorry.
More silent rustling of pages.
Russell: hee, hee, haw, haw [swallows his laughter] . . . sorry.
A page is turned.
Russell: HAHAHAHA - SNORT . . . sorry . . . hee, heh - snort - HAHAHAHAHAHAH.
Me: OK, show me.
Russell: HAHAHAHA - SNORT [hands me the book]
Russell goes to get a tissue to wipe his eyes as I read the page.
Me: HAHAHAHAHA-snort.
Even at 4:30am, David Sedaris is funny.
Me: Grrrr. [covers head with pillow]
Russell: Sorry, can't sleep.
I hear the silent rustle of pages as he reads.
Russell: hee, hee, hee . . . sorry.
More silent rustling of pages.
Russell: hee, hee, haw, haw [swallows his laughter] . . . sorry.
A page is turned.
Russell: HAHAHAHA - SNORT . . . sorry . . . hee, heh - snort - HAHAHAHAHAHAH.
Me: OK, show me.
Russell: HAHAHAHA - SNORT [hands me the book]
Russell goes to get a tissue to wipe his eyes as I read the page.
Me: HAHAHAHAHA-snort.
Even at 4:30am, David Sedaris is funny.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Two Wiggly Teeth
Last week, Lyra reported on the phone to me, "Mama, I have two wiggly teeth."
In the back of my head I'm thinking, OMG - what happened!?! Isn't 5.5 years too young to be losing teeth. But after asking around, I've been reassured that this is a normal age. "You do? Where?" I asked.
"In my mouth." Ok, thanks, but I think I had that figured out.
"Yes, but which teeth, I mean."
"The front ones."
I asked her, "What happened? Did you get bumped at playgroup?"
Turns out she did, but probably not so hard as to jolt loose her front lower teeth. Probably just prompted her to know they were loose. Lyra has been eagerly awaiting losing her teeth and a visit from the tooth fairy.
When I got home later the same day, she showed me and yes, indeed they are wiggly. She said, "I'm a little bit nervous and I'm excited."
"Why are you excited?" I asked her.
"Because I get money!" she said. Ah yes. After discussion, we have determined that the tooth fairy brings 5Dhs (about $1.50) per tooth.
Yesterday, she decided that she's not going to fiddle with her teeth. "I'm afraid that they'll bleed," she said. I told her that yes, they will bleed, but not too much. I then proceeded to go on about the molars and how difficult they are - ooooh they're a bugger. Russell cut me off when he saw the look of horror on her face. Ooops.
I offered to have her sit on the stairs while we tie a string around her teeth and then around the front doorknob. We'd slam the door and those teeth would just pop right out. Sure it would bleed a little, but they'd be out. "You're joking," she said. "Well, that's what Grumpy told me to do for my teeth," I said. "You're joking," she insisted. "Yes, I'm joking," I admitted.
Today, she's still determined not to fiddle with them. Me - I could never resist. Once my teeth were loose it was non-stop fiddling for me until I got those puppies o-u-t out!
In the back of my head I'm thinking, OMG - what happened!?! Isn't 5.5 years too young to be losing teeth. But after asking around, I've been reassured that this is a normal age. "You do? Where?" I asked.
"In my mouth." Ok, thanks, but I think I had that figured out.
"Yes, but which teeth, I mean."
"The front ones."
I asked her, "What happened? Did you get bumped at playgroup?"
Turns out she did, but probably not so hard as to jolt loose her front lower teeth. Probably just prompted her to know they were loose. Lyra has been eagerly awaiting losing her teeth and a visit from the tooth fairy.
When I got home later the same day, she showed me and yes, indeed they are wiggly. She said, "I'm a little bit nervous and I'm excited."
"Why are you excited?" I asked her.
"Because I get money!" she said. Ah yes. After discussion, we have determined that the tooth fairy brings 5Dhs (about $1.50) per tooth.
Yesterday, she decided that she's not going to fiddle with her teeth. "I'm afraid that they'll bleed," she said. I told her that yes, they will bleed, but not too much. I then proceeded to go on about the molars and how difficult they are - ooooh they're a bugger. Russell cut me off when he saw the look of horror on her face. Ooops.
I offered to have her sit on the stairs while we tie a string around her teeth and then around the front doorknob. We'd slam the door and those teeth would just pop right out. Sure it would bleed a little, but they'd be out. "You're joking," she said. "Well, that's what Grumpy told me to do for my teeth," I said. "You're joking," she insisted. "Yes, I'm joking," I admitted.
Today, she's still determined not to fiddle with them. Me - I could never resist. Once my teeth were loose it was non-stop fiddling for me until I got those puppies o-u-t out!
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Go Ahead - Make a Liar Out of Me
Well, ever since my Cabin Fever post, I've been feeling a bit guilty. The weather here has been so nice - highs near 35C (or mid-90s F). What a pleasant break from the temps we had a couple weeks ago when temps were near 115F. Just spoke to Russell this am - in the car, my temps read 27 (that's 80F). Makes you want to plan a picnic.
I'm reading about the misery in Iowa and Wisconsin. We're hoping that we bring some more pleasant weather with us when we come to visit in a few weeks. In the meantime, it does sound horrible.
Saw the pictures of Lake Delton draining in the Wisconsin Dells. Wow!! I hope that if any of you had vacations planned in that area that you still plan on going. Sure would help that area if they didn't have a huge exodus. I got an email from a private resort on Lake Delton that we've used a couple of times. They said, "We haven't experienced any damage. The pools (outdoor and indoor) are still open, the campfires are burning, and the beach is HUGE." LOL. At least they've kept their sense of humor.
Looking forward to coming home soon. In the meantime, we're enjoying the break in the heat.
I'm reading about the misery in Iowa and Wisconsin. We're hoping that we bring some more pleasant weather with us when we come to visit in a few weeks. In the meantime, it does sound horrible.
Saw the pictures of Lake Delton draining in the Wisconsin Dells. Wow!! I hope that if any of you had vacations planned in that area that you still plan on going. Sure would help that area if they didn't have a huge exodus. I got an email from a private resort on Lake Delton that we've used a couple of times. They said, "We haven't experienced any damage. The pools (outdoor and indoor) are still open, the campfires are burning, and the beach is HUGE." LOL. At least they've kept their sense of humor.
Looking forward to coming home soon. In the meantime, we're enjoying the break in the heat.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Playground Games - part 2
Is it Home Base, Ghoul, Jail, Goal (pronounced jail in England)? The debates are endless. Here's an interesting wiki entry on the game "Tag" and it's variants. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tag_(game)
I'm particularly impressed that Flashlight Tag is mentioned in there. This is a game we spent many nights playing in our neighborhood in Minnesota. What is particularly impressive is that the variants of the game as described are exactly how we played it. Ghoul was a big massive rock in our next door neighbor's yard - even though their kids never played.
In Minnesota, the summer nights aren't dark enough for flashlight tag until around 9:30 or 9:45. Many of us had 10 o'clock curfews. So, often it was a rushed game. Or we would beg and beg for just 15 more minutes. And on Fridays and Saturdays we'd often get a curfew reprieve until 10:30.
I was 12 or 13 and had a pre-teen crush on a neighbor boy. I remember we'd often hide together and then steal a little kiss while waiting for whoever was "it" to come and find us. I'm pretty sure my mom knew this which is why I didn't often get a curfew extention. She had a saying, "There's nothing I want you doing after 10:00 that you couldn't have done before." I think she and my dad heard that one from my Nana when they were dating. Nana was right.
I'm particularly impressed that Flashlight Tag is mentioned in there. This is a game we spent many nights playing in our neighborhood in Minnesota. What is particularly impressive is that the variants of the game as described are exactly how we played it. Ghoul was a big massive rock in our next door neighbor's yard - even though their kids never played.
In Minnesota, the summer nights aren't dark enough for flashlight tag until around 9:30 or 9:45. Many of us had 10 o'clock curfews. So, often it was a rushed game. Or we would beg and beg for just 15 more minutes. And on Fridays and Saturdays we'd often get a curfew reprieve until 10:30.
I was 12 or 13 and had a pre-teen crush on a neighbor boy. I remember we'd often hide together and then steal a little kiss while waiting for whoever was "it" to come and find us. I'm pretty sure my mom knew this which is why I didn't often get a curfew extention. She had a saying, "There's nothing I want you doing after 10:00 that you couldn't have done before." I think she and my dad heard that one from my Nana when they were dating. Nana was right.
An Allowance
About 2 months ago, we started giving Lyra an allowance. She gets 5Dhs each Friday. That's about $1.50. So, we're getting off cheap because we probably would have started with $5 (one dollar for each age) in the US.
Mostly, Lyra's very responsible with her money. She likes to put money in the charity boxes, so she has been using her allowance for that. If she wants a toy or treat, I'm now able to tell her that she can save up her allowance. She's been saving up for a Dora the Explorer book that she'd like to have. It's $12.99. I told her that if she saved half (25Dhs), I'd help her with half.
She started off pretty well and had 10 Dhs in savings. But then she needed to pay me back for some shorts that we bought at the shop a couple of weeks ago. When we were in the shop, I was pretty sure that she wouldn't like these shorts (she's into skirts & dresses these days). So, I asked her if she'd wear them and she assured me she would. So, we got them for 20Dhs. But now, she will never wear them. "Put them in the charity box," she told me the other day. "I will," I said, "but you'll need to pay me back with 4 week's of allowance." So, the 10Dhs from her dresser is now in my purse. Plus she didn't get an allowance last week, nor one this week. Then she'll be paid up.
This comes after she lost her allowance 2 weeks ago. She had her 5Dhs in her dress pocket and then somewhere when we were in the mall she realized it wasn't there any more. We searched lots of shops looking for it, but never found it. She asked, "Sometimes if a child loses their allowance, I wonder if the parents give them more money." We explained that even though she wasn't being irresponsible and playing with the money, it was her responsibility to keep it safe. So, even though it was lost, we couldn't replace it. She seemed to handle it well. Probably because she still hasn't really figured out what she's going to do with this money. Although she enjoys having it - she's not really fixated on what to spend it on.
Things she's purchased with her money are: fancy see-through glow-in-the-dark post it notes, two handfuls of candy dispensed from a coin operated despenser, several Dhs into the charity boxes, and various other snacks or treats. As I said earlier, she was trying to save up 25Dhs for when we got home to the US so she could buy a Dora the Explorer book. By the time we leave, she'll have 10Dhs. And if she loses these two wiggly teeth she discovered yesterday (that is a story for another post) then she'll have another 10Dhs, so while we're in the US she will have earned enough for the book, I guess.
Mostly, Lyra's very responsible with her money. She likes to put money in the charity boxes, so she has been using her allowance for that. If she wants a toy or treat, I'm now able to tell her that she can save up her allowance. She's been saving up for a Dora the Explorer book that she'd like to have. It's $12.99. I told her that if she saved half (25Dhs), I'd help her with half.
She started off pretty well and had 10 Dhs in savings. But then she needed to pay me back for some shorts that we bought at the shop a couple of weeks ago. When we were in the shop, I was pretty sure that she wouldn't like these shorts (she's into skirts & dresses these days). So, I asked her if she'd wear them and she assured me she would. So, we got them for 20Dhs. But now, she will never wear them. "Put them in the charity box," she told me the other day. "I will," I said, "but you'll need to pay me back with 4 week's of allowance." So, the 10Dhs from her dresser is now in my purse. Plus she didn't get an allowance last week, nor one this week. Then she'll be paid up.
This comes after she lost her allowance 2 weeks ago. She had her 5Dhs in her dress pocket and then somewhere when we were in the mall she realized it wasn't there any more. We searched lots of shops looking for it, but never found it. She asked, "Sometimes if a child loses their allowance, I wonder if the parents give them more money." We explained that even though she wasn't being irresponsible and playing with the money, it was her responsibility to keep it safe. So, even though it was lost, we couldn't replace it. She seemed to handle it well. Probably because she still hasn't really figured out what she's going to do with this money. Although she enjoys having it - she's not really fixated on what to spend it on.
Things she's purchased with her money are: fancy see-through glow-in-the-dark post it notes, two handfuls of candy dispensed from a coin operated despenser, several Dhs into the charity boxes, and various other snacks or treats. As I said earlier, she was trying to save up 25Dhs for when we got home to the US so she could buy a Dora the Explorer book. By the time we leave, she'll have 10Dhs. And if she loses these two wiggly teeth she discovered yesterday (that is a story for another post) then she'll have another 10Dhs, so while we're in the US she will have earned enough for the book, I guess.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Cabin Fever
You know that feeling. The pending sense of doom. Looking ahead toward months of sitting in the house with nothing to do. Racing from house to car to avoid the weather and then racing again from the car to work. Shouting at the kids/spouse - "Shut the door! Were you raised on a hill?" Running out to the car to get it started and letting it run a while before you head out to leave.
The whole world seems to slow down. The streets seem more empty, the options for what to do with the kids become more limited, the prospect of spending another afternoon trying to come up with creative ideas has your brain taxed. You sigh, well, we could go stroll around the mall. But there's nothing you need.
The weekends are even worse. Each day stretches before you with the challenge of finding "something to do". Visiting the playground - nope. Riding bikes - nope. Walking the dog - nope. Putzing in the garden - nope. What did we do last weekend? Oh, right, went to the mall. Sigh.
Even the animals are smarter than you and have headed off to more pleasant places. The birds have stopped chirping. Mosquitos and flies have died off. Every living thing has hunkered down to escape the misery.
Summer in Dubai.
Marnie said...
The whole world seems to slow down. The streets seem more empty, the options for what to do with the kids become more limited, the prospect of spending another afternoon trying to come up with creative ideas has your brain taxed. You sigh, well, we could go stroll around the mall. But there's nothing you need.
The weekends are even worse. Each day stretches before you with the challenge of finding "something to do". Visiting the playground - nope. Riding bikes - nope. Walking the dog - nope. Putzing in the garden - nope. What did we do last weekend? Oh, right, went to the mall. Sigh.
Even the animals are smarter than you and have headed off to more pleasant places. The birds have stopped chirping. Mosquitos and flies have died off. Every living thing has hunkered down to escape the misery.
Summer in Dubai.
Marnie said...
"Raised on a hill"??
If you were raised on a hill then your doors would automatically fall shut.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Peanut! Peanut Butter!
. . . and Jelly.
Actually, I prefer just peanut butter. Why taint a perfectly good sandwich. Or if you must put jelly on then just a light touch will do.
Peanut butter goes with everything! It's perfect with both sweet and savory foods.
I have been successful in passing on my devotion to peanut butter and maple syrup on pancakes, waffles, or french toast. Lyra has a waffle with peanut butter on most mornings. She alternates between having it with apple butter*, syrup, or cinnamon sugar. The perfect breakfast also has a side of crispy bacon to dip in the syrup. Peanut butter, bacon, and syrup - heaven.
Peanut butter is also good on ice cream - with a nice chocolate syrup drizzled over the top. Yum. Did you ever try that Chubby Hubby ice cream from Ben & Jerry's? Pretzel nuggets stuffed with peanut butter and coated with chocolate in a vanilla ice cream with chocolate and peanut butter swirls.
Or how about peanut butter on a wedge of mild cheddar cheese - uh huh. My dad would garnish with a bit of honey. Speaking of which, a peanut butter and honey mixture is nirvana as a spread for sandwiches or crackers or celery sticks.
Peanut butter on an Oscar Meyer bologna sandwich (and I could only spell that by singing the song - you know the song, go ahead, hum it.) Or peanut butter and Miracle Whip on gooey white bread.
Have you ever made satay sauce for chicken or beef skewers? Mix peanut butter with chillies, soy sauce and sesame oil. Or if you mix peanut butter with tomato paste and broth it makes a great sauce for baking chicken. My mom should have never told us there was peanut butter in that sauce. Even in my peanut butter lovin' family it was a bit odd. But we ate it.
Many years ago, I switched to natural peanut butters and now I'm a peanut butter snob. Russ was actually making peanut butter for us from peanuts he bought at the co-op. His ratio was 1/3 salted to 2/3 unsalted. Then grind for a million years in the food processor. My preference is to add a little peanut oil - otherwise it's a bit too crumbly and hard to spread. Recently Russ bought cheap peanut butter at the store here - yuck. It's like eating peanut flavored oily mouth coating.
I don't even need to mention my love of peanut butter cookies. Or peanut butter on graham crackers. Even better, peanut butter on Keebler Deluxe Grahams (hm-hum-hm-hm-hm duh-di-duh-di-duh-duh, they're made by little elves in their hollow trees.) Not such a big fan of the Nutter Butter cookies - too sweet. But if you put a bit of peanut butter on top of them that sets them right.
You know what I have never had? A fluffernutter sandwich. I'm afraid to try - I'm sure it's heaven and then it will be just another devotion that I have to the family of peanut butter loveliness.
I could go on about peanut butter on apple slices; in a yogurt smoothie; dotted with raisins on brown bread, or just straight from the jar on a spoon. But I'll stop here. I need to go make myself a snack.
*Note to Grammy: We're getting dangerously low on apple butter.
Mamacita said...
Wow. I have the wierdest craving for some peanut butter...mine must be extra crunchy!
I'm not so picky about that. Smooth, crunchy, extra cruncy each have their own place in my heart.
Actually, I prefer just peanut butter. Why taint a perfectly good sandwich. Or if you must put jelly on then just a light touch will do.
Peanut butter goes with everything! It's perfect with both sweet and savory foods.
I have been successful in passing on my devotion to peanut butter and maple syrup on pancakes, waffles, or french toast. Lyra has a waffle with peanut butter on most mornings. She alternates between having it with apple butter*, syrup, or cinnamon sugar. The perfect breakfast also has a side of crispy bacon to dip in the syrup. Peanut butter, bacon, and syrup - heaven.
Peanut butter is also good on ice cream - with a nice chocolate syrup drizzled over the top. Yum. Did you ever try that Chubby Hubby ice cream from Ben & Jerry's? Pretzel nuggets stuffed with peanut butter and coated with chocolate in a vanilla ice cream with chocolate and peanut butter swirls.
Or how about peanut butter on a wedge of mild cheddar cheese - uh huh. My dad would garnish with a bit of honey. Speaking of which, a peanut butter and honey mixture is nirvana as a spread for sandwiches or crackers or celery sticks.
Peanut butter on an Oscar Meyer bologna sandwich (and I could only spell that by singing the song - you know the song, go ahead, hum it.) Or peanut butter and Miracle Whip on gooey white bread.
Have you ever made satay sauce for chicken or beef skewers? Mix peanut butter with chillies, soy sauce and sesame oil. Or if you mix peanut butter with tomato paste and broth it makes a great sauce for baking chicken. My mom should have never told us there was peanut butter in that sauce. Even in my peanut butter lovin' family it was a bit odd. But we ate it.
Many years ago, I switched to natural peanut butters and now I'm a peanut butter snob. Russ was actually making peanut butter for us from peanuts he bought at the co-op. His ratio was 1/3 salted to 2/3 unsalted. Then grind for a million years in the food processor. My preference is to add a little peanut oil - otherwise it's a bit too crumbly and hard to spread. Recently Russ bought cheap peanut butter at the store here - yuck. It's like eating peanut flavored oily mouth coating.
I don't even need to mention my love of peanut butter cookies. Or peanut butter on graham crackers. Even better, peanut butter on Keebler Deluxe Grahams (hm-hum-hm-hm-hm duh-di-duh-di-duh-duh, they're made by little elves in their hollow trees.) Not such a big fan of the Nutter Butter cookies - too sweet. But if you put a bit of peanut butter on top of them that sets them right.
You know what I have never had? A fluffernutter sandwich. I'm afraid to try - I'm sure it's heaven and then it will be just another devotion that I have to the family of peanut butter loveliness.
I could go on about peanut butter on apple slices; in a yogurt smoothie; dotted with raisins on brown bread, or just straight from the jar on a spoon. But I'll stop here. I need to go make myself a snack.
*Note to Grammy: We're getting dangerously low on apple butter.
Mamacita said...
Wow. I have the wierdest craving for some peanut butter...mine must be extra crunchy!
I'm not so picky about that. Smooth, crunchy, extra cruncy each have their own place in my heart.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
I Can be MEAN
I had a really good idea for a blog entry last night. I started to compose a few sentences as I drifted off to sleep. I wonder what it was. That idea I mean.
Today, Lyra and I had a mother/daughter run it. It has been a long time since she's got me so angry that I've lost it. There were moments during her tantrum where I was enjoying the fact that she was so livid - and that if I wanted to, I could make her even more so. Ooooh, I can be MEAN.
It's amazing how the energy of two angry people can spiral into a whirlwind of destruction (both literally & figuratively). Luckily for us, we both have enough of a rein on our emotions that even though we got quite worked up, we still kept the pure raw anger at bay.
After a few minutes, I came to my senses and had the ability to calm down, apologize, and give her a cuddle. We both were able to see that we'd gone over the edge - and it wasn't pretty. After the tears had dried, I saw that she was welling up again and reached out for another snuggle. What's wrong, I asked. "I'm just having emotions," she said. I can relate.
It's been some pretty stressful days for Lyra the past week. I was out of town all week, which she doesn't like. Then Thursday was the last day of school and she had to say goodbye to friends and teachers. Then today she went to a new summer camp with new friends and teachers. So, a lot for one kid to process. It's been coming out in some emotional eruptions.
Guess you're never really done with tantrums. Even in your 40s.
Today, Lyra and I had a mother/daughter run it. It has been a long time since she's got me so angry that I've lost it. There were moments during her tantrum where I was enjoying the fact that she was so livid - and that if I wanted to, I could make her even more so. Ooooh, I can be MEAN.
It's amazing how the energy of two angry people can spiral into a whirlwind of destruction (both literally & figuratively). Luckily for us, we both have enough of a rein on our emotions that even though we got quite worked up, we still kept the pure raw anger at bay.
After a few minutes, I came to my senses and had the ability to calm down, apologize, and give her a cuddle. We both were able to see that we'd gone over the edge - and it wasn't pretty. After the tears had dried, I saw that she was welling up again and reached out for another snuggle. What's wrong, I asked. "I'm just having emotions," she said. I can relate.
It's been some pretty stressful days for Lyra the past week. I was out of town all week, which she doesn't like. Then Thursday was the last day of school and she had to say goodbye to friends and teachers. Then today she went to a new summer camp with new friends and teachers. So, a lot for one kid to process. It's been coming out in some emotional eruptions.
Guess you're never really done with tantrums. Even in your 40s.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Playground Games
What did you play on the playgound when you were five? Do you remember?
I have these vague recollections of girls v. boys chasing games. Us girls would get cootie booster shots before each recess. For some reason, I think that our playground area was in a clearing in the woods next to our school. I remember running around and under bushes trying to escape the boys. And somehow, the top of the ladder for the slide was "Ghoul" (or Home Base). I don't think I adopted the term Ghoul until we moved to Iowa when I was 8 - or maybe it was in Minnesota when I was 12.
In Iowa, the playground games were more organized. Kick ball and four square in the summer and sledding in the winter. We had a great sledding hill that led from the playground area down to the football field. Do they allow sledding on school grounds these days - or is the insurance risk too high?
Back in Milwaukee, Lyra's recess time seemed to be pretty much dedicated to climbing on the playground equipment. The kids were still learning to climb ladders and take the slides without adult supervision. Last night, Lyra was telling me of her play time games at Gulf Montessori. She was the dog owner. Noora, Ahmed, Sultan, and Abdulrahman were her dogs. Meera and Inaya were the cats. And Gahlib and Zaid would try to get Lyra and she'd have her doggies chase them. You go girl!!
I have these vague recollections of girls v. boys chasing games. Us girls would get cootie booster shots before each recess. For some reason, I think that our playground area was in a clearing in the woods next to our school. I remember running around and under bushes trying to escape the boys. And somehow, the top of the ladder for the slide was "Ghoul" (or Home Base). I don't think I adopted the term Ghoul until we moved to Iowa when I was 8 - or maybe it was in Minnesota when I was 12.
In Iowa, the playground games were more organized. Kick ball and four square in the summer and sledding in the winter. We had a great sledding hill that led from the playground area down to the football field. Do they allow sledding on school grounds these days - or is the insurance risk too high?
Back in Milwaukee, Lyra's recess time seemed to be pretty much dedicated to climbing on the playground equipment. The kids were still learning to climb ladders and take the slides without adult supervision. Last night, Lyra was telling me of her play time games at Gulf Montessori. She was the dog owner. Noora, Ahmed, Sultan, and Abdulrahman were her dogs. Meera and Inaya were the cats. And Gahlib and Zaid would try to get Lyra and she'd have her doggies chase them. You go girl!!
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
How to Irk Your Spouse
Never drink the final amount in a cup of coffee. Mention that you don't drink it because you don't like tilting your head back that far.
When dipping chips into salsa, break the big chips before dipping them rather than taking the ones that are already crumbled. Mention that you like the cracking sound made by breaking the big chips.
When driving your spouse's car, pull the seat as far foward as it will go so that you can reach the peddles. Forget to move the seat backward when you return the car.
Come home from work and immediately start sorting through the mail rather than saying hello to your family. Realize that you haven't seen them all day after they finally come up and stand in front of you.
Salt your food before tasting the meal carefully prepared by your spouse.
Put several decorative pillows onto the bed. Complain when they are actually used. When out shopping, look at even more decorative pillows that could be piled onto the bed.
Say, "You know what song is going through my head?" and then launch into humming it before your spouse has a chance to ask you not to.
Call your spouse during the day to say hello. Get distracted by your emails and forget to actually carry on a conversation.
Talk about something with your spouse and when he gives you a questioning look say, "Don't you read my blog?"
Go up to your spouse like you want a hug. As he bends over to hug you say, "Crack my back, please."
When your spouse says something you disagree with - rather than presenting your opinion in a persuasive and understanding manner instead say, "WRONG-G-G!!"
When using toilet paper or dental floss, be sure to take much more than is necessary to accomplish the job.
Buy snacks that should be saved only for you. Never eat them. Let them sit in the cupboard or freezer until they too old and must be tossed out.
Marnie said...
There is no such thing as too many decorative pillows.
Beth said...
Clog up the bathtub, pour ten tons of toxic DrainO down the pipes, let the fumes fill the entire second floor, and then annouce it's time for the kids to go to bed.
When dipping chips into salsa, break the big chips before dipping them rather than taking the ones that are already crumbled. Mention that you like the cracking sound made by breaking the big chips.
When driving your spouse's car, pull the seat as far foward as it will go so that you can reach the peddles. Forget to move the seat backward when you return the car.
Come home from work and immediately start sorting through the mail rather than saying hello to your family. Realize that you haven't seen them all day after they finally come up and stand in front of you.
Salt your food before tasting the meal carefully prepared by your spouse.
Put several decorative pillows onto the bed. Complain when they are actually used. When out shopping, look at even more decorative pillows that could be piled onto the bed.
Say, "You know what song is going through my head?" and then launch into humming it before your spouse has a chance to ask you not to.
Call your spouse during the day to say hello. Get distracted by your emails and forget to actually carry on a conversation.
Talk about something with your spouse and when he gives you a questioning look say, "Don't you read my blog?"
Go up to your spouse like you want a hug. As he bends over to hug you say, "Crack my back, please."
When your spouse says something you disagree with - rather than presenting your opinion in a persuasive and understanding manner instead say, "WRONG-G-G!!"
When using toilet paper or dental floss, be sure to take much more than is necessary to accomplish the job.
Buy snacks that should be saved only for you. Never eat them. Let them sit in the cupboard or freezer until they too old and must be tossed out.
Marnie said...
There is no such thing as too many decorative pillows.
Beth said...
Clog up the bathtub, pour ten tons of toxic DrainO down the pipes, let the fumes fill the entire second floor, and then annouce it's time for the kids to go to bed.
Visit to ER
Last weekend, Lyra complained that her ear was hurting. This was the second time she's had an earache. I gave her some Tylenol and hoped that the pain relief would be enough to get her to sleep for the night. At about 1am she woke again complaining of the pain and it seemed there was no way to help her deal with it. "We need to go to the doctor," she said.
No such thing as 24 Hour Neighborhood Walgreen's here. I realized that we're pretty unprepared to know what to do in the case of urgent care. We haven't established a relationship with a pediatrician, and didn't have any Urgent Care number we knew to call. If it had been an emergency, we know to call '999'. So, the only thing we knew to do was to take her to the Emergency services at the hospital.
When we arrived, it was fairly quiet - not like an ER in the US. It was us and and about 2 other families. We were quickly triaged and within 5 or 10 minutes seen by the doctor. Her diagnosis was inflamation on the ear drum, but not yet a full-blown ear infection. Like at home, the doctors are very cautious about over-prescribing anti-biotics. So, we got a prescription for an ear drop that has topical antibiotic and numbing qualities to help with the pain. In addition, we were advised to use Ibuprofen - rather than Tylenol.
Our final bill:
Emergency visit - free
Medications - $10
Russell said...
WRONG-G-G! The non urgent visit to the ER was 200 Dirham ($54.50), had that been an actual emergency, it would have been free.
Oh, I didn't see you pay. I thought they had determined it was an emergency. Still, an ER visit that doesn't require a 2nd mortgage on your home.
No such thing as 24 Hour Neighborhood Walgreen's here. I realized that we're pretty unprepared to know what to do in the case of urgent care. We haven't established a relationship with a pediatrician, and didn't have any Urgent Care number we knew to call. If it had been an emergency, we know to call '999'. So, the only thing we knew to do was to take her to the Emergency services at the hospital.
When we arrived, it was fairly quiet - not like an ER in the US. It was us and and about 2 other families. We were quickly triaged and within 5 or 10 minutes seen by the doctor. Her diagnosis was inflamation on the ear drum, but not yet a full-blown ear infection. Like at home, the doctors are very cautious about over-prescribing anti-biotics. So, we got a prescription for an ear drop that has topical antibiotic and numbing qualities to help with the pain. In addition, we were advised to use Ibuprofen - rather than Tylenol.
Our final bill:
Emergency visit - free
Medications - $10
Russell said...
WRONG-G-G! The non urgent visit to the ER was 200 Dirham ($54.50), had that been an actual emergency, it would have been free.
Oh, I didn't see you pay. I thought they had determined it was an emergency. Still, an ER visit that doesn't require a 2nd mortgage on your home.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Pomp and Circumstances

Lyra's graduation from nursery was on Thursday. If you've read Russell's blog, you know it was a swanky affair. On par with the Law School graduation from Marquette we attended for our niece Susan last May. It was hosted in the ballroom of a local hotel. Before the ceremony, parents had tea, coffee, and juice. Then the ceremony was followed by an early brunch of finger sandwiches, small appetisers, and cakes.
It was so cute to see the kids march up onto the stage in their uniforms to the tune of "Pomp and Circumstances". The nusery had provided little capes that they wore (as graduation gowns). After their dress rehersal on Wednesday, Lyra told me, "Mama, the music that they play when we're walking is so-o-o beautiful. I think when I hear it that tears will come into my eyes." I told her I was pretty sure that I'd cry, too.
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After all the children were seated, Lyra went to the front to take the microphone and said, "Dear Mummys and Daddys, Welcome to our graduation. We hope you have a nice time. I love you." I was stunned, really. Only 6 months ago, there is no way that she would have the poise or confidence to do that. Visions of her valedictory address 15 years from now were swimming in my head. .
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Afterward, Lyra went over to Meera's house for a playdate. These two are like an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. Kind of fun to watch the interplay between two strong personalities. Lyra learns a lot from Meera. Meera seems to be a lot less inhibited about doing whatever she wants - whereas Lyra is more concerned about what others will think. But the two each have their own ideas about how things should be. .
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And this handsome little fellow is Majid (nicknamed Mayudi). He's Meera's little brother. I thought he was so cute in his little thobe. Note the arab sandals, too. He will still be at Gulf Montessori for one more year. When I told Lyra that he wasn't going to the new school with Meera, she said, "But what if he needs her? How will he go get her?" I'm sure he'll learn.
Next year's going to be a big change for all of us.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Bad NYT
I'm disappointed in the New York Times. Usually, it's one of my favorite newspapers (and that probably tells you a lot about the type of person I am).
Did you see this article about 2 weeks ago? http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/12/world/middleeast/12saudi.html?scp=1&sq=saudi%20arabia%20dating&st=cse It's a story about young Saudis and how they are coping with new attitudes regarding dating and falling in love versus the conflicts with traditional culture. This article couldn't be more distant from the actual Saudi Arabia that I experience. I think the journalists probably needed to travel into the Bedouin areas of the desert to find people who live like this.
Last night, I was at dinner with some work collegues and their spouses. One side of the restaurant they called the "dating area". An area where young couples who are dating will sit together. It's next to the "family area" which means an area where women are allowed and is separate from the "men's area". OK, so I admit it's still a bit odd to have separate areas for men and women. But, nevertheless, young unmarried couples are sitting together in a restaurant sharing a shisha and having a coffee just like any other couples in the world (sans the booze).
It's things like this that get my goat. Really, how are Americans supposed to form a balanced perspective of the world when this is the type of story they read. And from a reputable paper, too. Couldn't the reporter have qualified his story by saying, "I traveled into the back of beyond in Saudi Arabia to find a family of sheep herders. . ." It just continues to feed the mindset that there is a huge chasm to fill between Saudi Arabia and the US. It's not right!!!
I mean really - Saudis are normal people. Giving. Generous. Kind, kind, kind - to the core. It's so much easier to put people into a hell-hole like Gitmo or torture them in Abu Ghraib when you can depersonalize them into a bunch of weirdos.
Can you tell I'm angry?
Did you see this article about 2 weeks ago? http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/12/world/middleeast/12saudi.html?scp=1&sq=saudi%20arabia%20dating&st=cse It's a story about young Saudis and how they are coping with new attitudes regarding dating and falling in love versus the conflicts with traditional culture. This article couldn't be more distant from the actual Saudi Arabia that I experience. I think the journalists probably needed to travel into the Bedouin areas of the desert to find people who live like this.
Last night, I was at dinner with some work collegues and their spouses. One side of the restaurant they called the "dating area". An area where young couples who are dating will sit together. It's next to the "family area" which means an area where women are allowed and is separate from the "men's area". OK, so I admit it's still a bit odd to have separate areas for men and women. But, nevertheless, young unmarried couples are sitting together in a restaurant sharing a shisha and having a coffee just like any other couples in the world (sans the booze).
It's things like this that get my goat. Really, how are Americans supposed to form a balanced perspective of the world when this is the type of story they read. And from a reputable paper, too. Couldn't the reporter have qualified his story by saying, "I traveled into the back of beyond in Saudi Arabia to find a family of sheep herders. . ." It just continues to feed the mindset that there is a huge chasm to fill between Saudi Arabia and the US. It's not right!!!
I mean really - Saudis are normal people. Giving. Generous. Kind, kind, kind - to the core. It's so much easier to put people into a hell-hole like Gitmo or torture them in Abu Ghraib when you can depersonalize them into a bunch of weirdos.
Can you tell I'm angry?
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Jeddah, Again
Hope those in the US are enjoying the long weekend.
Today I'm in Jeddah. I still feel a bit awkward at times when I'm here. Simple things - like I'm not sure if I can get in the front seat when my work collegue picks me up from the airport (which I can). And I'm not sure if I'm overreacting to the stories in the press or if it is technically not allowed. Probably a bit of both. There seem to be a lot of things here that are technically not allowed, but are commonly practiced. Like I'm not sure if I'm allowed to go to the mall next door without an escort. And if I would ask at work, they'd want to know why I wanted to go to some old dingy mall - which I don't - but I wonder if I can. Probably I can, but technically it's not allowed, maybe.
In the office, everyone is very welcoming. The women in the office are so happy to see me. It is so unusual to have a woman visit and I think that it is encouraging to them to see a woman who is treated as an equal on the management staff. Most of the office is non-Saudi men. They're all used to working in environments where women are a part of the workforce. And the Saudi men in the office have all received education outside of Saudi, so they too are comfortable working with women. I enjoy coming here and working with the team. It's a nice work environment.
We're getting close to the end of the school year. Lyra will be graduating from her nursery on Thursday. I'll be heading home from here on Wednesday to make sure that I can go to the graduation ceremony. I'm sure it will be an emotional experience. She's made some good friends, but they're all going to different schools next year. I will be sure to post some pictures of the event.
Today I'm in Jeddah. I still feel a bit awkward at times when I'm here. Simple things - like I'm not sure if I can get in the front seat when my work collegue picks me up from the airport (which I can). And I'm not sure if I'm overreacting to the stories in the press or if it is technically not allowed. Probably a bit of both. There seem to be a lot of things here that are technically not allowed, but are commonly practiced. Like I'm not sure if I'm allowed to go to the mall next door without an escort. And if I would ask at work, they'd want to know why I wanted to go to some old dingy mall - which I don't - but I wonder if I can. Probably I can, but technically it's not allowed, maybe.
In the office, everyone is very welcoming. The women in the office are so happy to see me. It is so unusual to have a woman visit and I think that it is encouraging to them to see a woman who is treated as an equal on the management staff. Most of the office is non-Saudi men. They're all used to working in environments where women are a part of the workforce. And the Saudi men in the office have all received education outside of Saudi, so they too are comfortable working with women. I enjoy coming here and working with the team. It's a nice work environment.
We're getting close to the end of the school year. Lyra will be graduating from her nursery on Thursday. I'll be heading home from here on Wednesday to make sure that I can go to the graduation ceremony. I'm sure it will be an emotional experience. She's made some good friends, but they're all going to different schools next year. I will be sure to post some pictures of the event.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Stressed? Get a Cat
While you're at it, get two.
A University of Minnesota research study has found that cat owners have a reduced risk of dying from a heart attack http://health.usnews.com/usnews/health/healthday/080221/cats-help-shield-owners-from-heart-attack.htm. Possibly dog owners have the same benefit, but there weren't enough dog owners in the study to draw conclusion.
The reduced risks were as low as taking heart or cholesterol medication - but without the risks or side effects of those drugs.
There's nothing like a purring kitty to calm your mind.
A University of Minnesota research study has found that cat owners have a reduced risk of dying from a heart attack http://health.usnews.com/usnews/health/healthday/080221/cats-help-shield-owners-from-heart-attack.htm. Possibly dog owners have the same benefit, but there weren't enough dog owners in the study to draw conclusion.
The reduced risks were as low as taking heart or cholesterol medication - but without the risks or side effects of those drugs.
There's nothing like a purring kitty to calm your mind.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Night Sounds
I don’t remember when I started listening to the night. Some of my most vivid childhood memories are of lying in bed, on the cusp of sleep, and listening to the world outside of my room.
When I was five or six,I spent a summer with my grandparents. They had put my bed out onto the breezeway right under the windows. I remember one night after being put to bed I put my nose up to the screen and listened to the sounds in the field below their house. The night was hot and humid and full of the stillness of a summer evening as fireflies flickered through my grandpa’s tomato plants. From across the field, a train passing by seemed so loud and clear I could hear the clack clack of the wheels on the rails. The diesel engine roared as the whistle blew to warn passing cars; one short whistle, one long – woo, wooooo. We had just ridden the train from Austin, TX to my grandparent’s and I wondered if our train had passed by the house on this set of tracks.
Today, that field behind my grandmother’s house has been filled with condos and my grandmother and aunt have moved into one of those new homes. When I sleep at their house I can still hear the trains on the exact same tracks as I lay in bed. Now, their whistles are muffled by the hum of the air conditioning and the closed windows; one short whistle, one long – woo, wooooo. The sound has the ability to transport me back to that hot summer evening in my bed on the breezeway
As a child, we often went on camping trips with families from our neighborhood. At bedtime, I loved to lie in my sleeping bag and listen to the grown ups sitting up late into the night. The flames of the fire would produce the occasional pop and send up crackling sparks into the darkness. A loud comment or laughter would rise above the mutter of conversation. Across the campsite, another parent check on their children; z-z-z-zip as they opened the tent, z-z-z-zip as they closed it. Someone would open a cooler and dig through the ice to get a drink and eventually I’d doze off. Later, I’d partially wake up as my parents came to bed. Z-z-z-zip as they opened the tent, z-z-z-zip as they closed it.
Now, I’m one of the grown ups sitting around the campfire. After dark, I put Lyra to bed in her tent before heading back over to visit and chat into the night. Z-z-z-zip as I open the tent, I blow her a kiss, z-z-z-zip as I close it. Later, as I snuggle into my sleeping bag, I listen to the low mutter of late night campers in nearby campsites and the crackle from their fire.
When we were in India, one of our hotel rooms had a set of French doors that led onto a veranda. I had carried a chair outside to sit and read my book in the cool night air. Next door to our hotel was a Catholic church where the mass and homily were broadcast on the loudspeakers out over the neighborhood. I listened to the preacher saying the mass in Hindi and the microphone would pick up the background sound of the congregational response. Even in Hindi, you can recognize “Lord, hear our prayer.” Off in the distance, a mosque started the call to prayer and somewhere was the sound of drums, chanting, and dancing. As everything quieted down and the evening turned to dusk, the tree above my head erupted into the loudest chorus of cicadas I’ve ever heard. Wzzz-wzzz-wzzz-wzzz. It was magical. I had just looked up from my book to enjoy the stillness of the settling darkness and then in unison the entire tree began to sing. I closed my book and sat there surrounded by the chirping; Wzzz-wzzz-wzzz-wzzz.
Here in Dubai, I love the sound of the early morning adhan (call to prayer.) Since the first prayer is before sunrise, the call these days is coming at around 4:15 in the morning. Many mornings I wake just enough to hear the chanting in the distance. Allah akbar, allah akbar (God is the greatest.) I love knowing that I have another hour before I need to get up. We have two mosques near enough to hear the prayers. I always stay awake long enough to hear both of the muezzins. One has a rough, gravelly voice and the other has a lyrical “Gregorian” style to his calls. Sometimes, I’m still awake 15 minutes later when they broadcast the prayers, but usually I’ve drifted back to sleep.
At Lyra’s bedtime, the final call to prayer is chanted. Allah akbar, allah akbar; one gravelly voice and one lyrical. Lyra looks at me and says, “It’s time for me to be asleep.”
When I was five or six,I spent a summer with my grandparents. They had put my bed out onto the breezeway right under the windows. I remember one night after being put to bed I put my nose up to the screen and listened to the sounds in the field below their house. The night was hot and humid and full of the stillness of a summer evening as fireflies flickered through my grandpa’s tomato plants. From across the field, a train passing by seemed so loud and clear I could hear the clack clack of the wheels on the rails. The diesel engine roared as the whistle blew to warn passing cars; one short whistle, one long – woo, wooooo. We had just ridden the train from Austin, TX to my grandparent’s and I wondered if our train had passed by the house on this set of tracks.
Today, that field behind my grandmother’s house has been filled with condos and my grandmother and aunt have moved into one of those new homes. When I sleep at their house I can still hear the trains on the exact same tracks as I lay in bed. Now, their whistles are muffled by the hum of the air conditioning and the closed windows; one short whistle, one long – woo, wooooo. The sound has the ability to transport me back to that hot summer evening in my bed on the breezeway
As a child, we often went on camping trips with families from our neighborhood. At bedtime, I loved to lie in my sleeping bag and listen to the grown ups sitting up late into the night. The flames of the fire would produce the occasional pop and send up crackling sparks into the darkness. A loud comment or laughter would rise above the mutter of conversation. Across the campsite, another parent check on their children; z-z-z-zip as they opened the tent, z-z-z-zip as they closed it. Someone would open a cooler and dig through the ice to get a drink and eventually I’d doze off. Later, I’d partially wake up as my parents came to bed. Z-z-z-zip as they opened the tent, z-z-z-zip as they closed it.
Now, I’m one of the grown ups sitting around the campfire. After dark, I put Lyra to bed in her tent before heading back over to visit and chat into the night. Z-z-z-zip as I open the tent, I blow her a kiss, z-z-z-zip as I close it. Later, as I snuggle into my sleeping bag, I listen to the low mutter of late night campers in nearby campsites and the crackle from their fire.
When we were in India, one of our hotel rooms had a set of French doors that led onto a veranda. I had carried a chair outside to sit and read my book in the cool night air. Next door to our hotel was a Catholic church where the mass and homily were broadcast on the loudspeakers out over the neighborhood. I listened to the preacher saying the mass in Hindi and the microphone would pick up the background sound of the congregational response. Even in Hindi, you can recognize “Lord, hear our prayer.” Off in the distance, a mosque started the call to prayer and somewhere was the sound of drums, chanting, and dancing. As everything quieted down and the evening turned to dusk, the tree above my head erupted into the loudest chorus of cicadas I’ve ever heard. Wzzz-wzzz-wzzz-wzzz. It was magical. I had just looked up from my book to enjoy the stillness of the settling darkness and then in unison the entire tree began to sing. I closed my book and sat there surrounded by the chirping; Wzzz-wzzz-wzzz-wzzz.
Here in Dubai, I love the sound of the early morning adhan (call to prayer.) Since the first prayer is before sunrise, the call these days is coming at around 4:15 in the morning. Many mornings I wake just enough to hear the chanting in the distance. Allah akbar, allah akbar (God is the greatest.) I love knowing that I have another hour before I need to get up. We have two mosques near enough to hear the prayers. I always stay awake long enough to hear both of the muezzins. One has a rough, gravelly voice and the other has a lyrical “Gregorian” style to his calls. Sometimes, I’m still awake 15 minutes later when they broadcast the prayers, but usually I’ve drifted back to sleep.
At Lyra’s bedtime, the final call to prayer is chanted. Allah akbar, allah akbar; one gravelly voice and one lyrical. Lyra looks at me and says, “It’s time for me to be asleep.”
Guys Named Vikram
Do you remember that I mentioned earlier that India wasn't really on my list of places to travel? Not that I had anything against India, it just hadn't piqued my interest. Which is surprising really because two of the most enjoyable books I've read have both been set in India.
The first, is my all time favorite book. A Suitable Boy, by Vikram Seth. It's full of characters and multiple stories that converge upon one another. The main tale is about a Hindi family that is trying to find a "suitable boy" for their daughter to marry and meantime she falls in love with a Muslim boy. As I learned in this book - that's not something that's going to make the parents happy. I loved this book so much that I actually started reading it more and more slowly so that it wouldn't end. It's over 1,000 pages, so really there was no reason to want it to last longer. But I did. It was the first time I had read anything set in India (well, no, actually I think I had read Passage to India) but anyway I was just so enthralled with the characters and the history (it is set just after Partition). Later, I lent it to a friend and never got it back and I love it so much that I bought another copy - just so I could have it in my collection. Since then, I've read everything I can get my hands on by Vikram Seth.
Now, I'm just finishing a book called Sacred Games, by Vikram Chandra. You'd think I have a thing for guys named Vikram. This book is as big and bold as a Bollywood movie. The main characters are a Hindi gangster warlord, a Sikh cop, a corrupt politician, and an egotistical guru. It's set mostly in modern day Mumbai with flashbacks to other parts of India. This too is about 1,000 pages (so that makes 3 books I've read about India that are all 1,000 pages) and as I'm nearing the end I'm tempted to slow down except that there's a mystery to what's going on and I'm eager to find out the ending.
To be fair, I started Sacred Games while we were on our trip in India - so I really hadn't read it to have it prompt my interest to visit. But it sure was fun to read it while we were actually there - made many of the images in the book much more vibrant.
After this, I think I'm going to read A Suitable Boy again.
The first, is my all time favorite book. A Suitable Boy, by Vikram Seth. It's full of characters and multiple stories that converge upon one another. The main tale is about a Hindi family that is trying to find a "suitable boy" for their daughter to marry and meantime she falls in love with a Muslim boy. As I learned in this book - that's not something that's going to make the parents happy. I loved this book so much that I actually started reading it more and more slowly so that it wouldn't end. It's over 1,000 pages, so really there was no reason to want it to last longer. But I did. It was the first time I had read anything set in India (well, no, actually I think I had read Passage to India) but anyway I was just so enthralled with the characters and the history (it is set just after Partition). Later, I lent it to a friend and never got it back and I love it so much that I bought another copy - just so I could have it in my collection. Since then, I've read everything I can get my hands on by Vikram Seth.
Now, I'm just finishing a book called Sacred Games, by Vikram Chandra. You'd think I have a thing for guys named Vikram. This book is as big and bold as a Bollywood movie. The main characters are a Hindi gangster warlord, a Sikh cop, a corrupt politician, and an egotistical guru. It's set mostly in modern day Mumbai with flashbacks to other parts of India. This too is about 1,000 pages (so that makes 3 books I've read about India that are all 1,000 pages) and as I'm nearing the end I'm tempted to slow down except that there's a mystery to what's going on and I'm eager to find out the ending.
To be fair, I started Sacred Games while we were on our trip in India - so I really hadn't read it to have it prompt my interest to visit. But it sure was fun to read it while we were actually there - made many of the images in the book much more vibrant.
After this, I think I'm going to read A Suitable Boy again.
Monday, May 19, 2008
A Maid
So, we're getting a maid - I think. We have found some neighbors who want to sponsor a maid, but they don't have a maid's quarters. They are required to provide housing - and we have a maid's quarters, but don't know what we'd do with a full-time maid. Really, there's not enough to keep one person busy here at our house. So, it seems to be a great arrangement. We'll provide the accommodation and they provide the sponsorship and then we'll share her time. Actually, there will be 3 families sharing, but we haven't sorted all the details.
Technically, it's illegal to share a maid. I'm not sure why. Up until now, we've been getting by with paying some of the neighboring maids/house boys to come by once per week to clean up. At first, it was working pretty well. We had a guy from down the street coming by 2x/week. He was ok, not great. But the house was clean and pretty tidy. Then, he went home to Sri Lanka for December and when he came back - he never came back to start cleaning again. Long story.
So, for several months we did without. Boy was our house a pit! I hate cleaning and this place is SO DUSTY that you really need to dust and mop the floors at least once per week or else you start to feel the grime on the bottoms of our feet. Then we found that a neighboring maid was looking for some extra hours on her day off. Thing is, she's not so reliable. Sometimes she comes and sometimes she doesn't. She's really good, but we can go 3-4 weeks without a cleaning and by then I'm ready to climb the walls.
So, I'm hoping this situation with the neighbors works out. All we want is some cleaning on a regular basis. Plus it will be nice to have access to child care. There doesn't seem to be any baby sitting teenagers in this country. What's up with that! Everyone relies on their maids or the neighbors maids for child care. We've been out only 3 times since moving here. So, that's got to change.
Will be odd to get used to having someone living at our house. She'll have her own private quarters (bedroom and bathroom) with her own private entrance. So, she can come and go as she pleases. But if she wants to cook anything, or get something from the fridge, she'll need to come into the house to use the kitchen. I've seen some houses that give the maid's quarters an entrance to the kitchen - which would be nice for her to feel like she could get into the kitchen without having to disturb us. But hopefully she soon feels comfortable being here with us (and us with her).
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Talking with Lyra
On Tuesday, Lyra woke up and complained of a headache. Nothing much - she still went to school. After school, she went to ballet. On the way home, she complained of a headache again. She told me, "When we got home, I said to Baba, 'Baba, we should take my temperature.' 'We're not taking your temperature,' he told me. [Note: taking her temperature is a frequent request from Lyra.] But when we took it it said 1-0-2. And Baba said to me, 'I should listen to my daughter more often.'"
I asked her, "Do you like taking your temperature because it's fun?"
"No," she said, "I take my temperature because we should know if I'm sick."
[point taken]
Later on, the subject moved to school. She and her friend, Meera, are both very strong personalities. At times, they end up fighting or arguing. Lyra was upset because she felt Meera had fibbed. Lyra told me, "I asked her, 'Meera, why did you fib about that?' and she told me, 'It was a joke.' I said, 'That's not a very funny joke.' Mama, doesn't Meera's mama teach her not to fib?"
"Of course she does, but when you're five, you're still learning and sometimes you make mistakes," I said.
"We-ell, sometimes I say things to Meera and I know it's not nice and then she says things that aren't nice and I think, 'I shouldn't say that.' And I know it's not nice. And then sometimes Meera will go like this (sticking out her toungue) and that's not a nice thing to do. And I think, 'Why is she sticking her toungue out at me? Doesn't she know that's not nice?!?' And today Meera told me not to play with Inaya, but I told her 'I haven't seen Inaya all week.' Why did she tell me not to play with Inaya?"
"Sometimes it's hard to share," I said. "But I'm glad you still played with Inaya."
I asked her, "Do you like taking your temperature because it's fun?"
"No," she said, "I take my temperature because we should know if I'm sick."
[point taken]
Later on, the subject moved to school. She and her friend, Meera, are both very strong personalities. At times, they end up fighting or arguing. Lyra was upset because she felt Meera had fibbed. Lyra told me, "I asked her, 'Meera, why did you fib about that?' and she told me, 'It was a joke.' I said, 'That's not a very funny joke.' Mama, doesn't Meera's mama teach her not to fib?"
"Of course she does, but when you're five, you're still learning and sometimes you make mistakes," I said.
"We-ell, sometimes I say things to Meera and I know it's not nice and then she says things that aren't nice and I think, 'I shouldn't say that.' And I know it's not nice. And then sometimes Meera will go like this (sticking out her toungue) and that's not a nice thing to do. And I think, 'Why is she sticking her toungue out at me? Doesn't she know that's not nice?!?' And today Meera told me not to play with Inaya, but I told her 'I haven't seen Inaya all week.' Why did she tell me not to play with Inaya?"
"Sometimes it's hard to share," I said. "But I'm glad you still played with Inaya."
How many ways can you pronounce "th"?
Lyra has numerous ways:
What's dat?
Dat's noffing.
I sink so.
But I can't think of a word where she uses the "TH" sound.
She even corrects her friends.
Lyra: Mama, why does Meera say 'some-FING'? It's 'some-SING'.
Me: Actually, it's 'some-THING'. TH-TH-TH. Can you say, TH?
Lyra: Nu-uh, it's some-SING.
Me: Well, it's not.
[What I really wanted to say was, "Hey little smartie pants. I've been speaking English 40 years longer than you. I should think I'd know if it's some-SING or some-THING. "]
What's dat?
Dat's noffing.
I sink so.
But I can't think of a word where she uses the "TH" sound.
She even corrects her friends.
Lyra: Mama, why does Meera say 'some-FING'? It's 'some-SING'.
Me: Actually, it's 'some-THING'. TH-TH-TH. Can you say, TH?
Lyra: Nu-uh, it's some-SING.
Me: Well, it's not.
[What I really wanted to say was, "Hey little smartie pants. I've been speaking English 40 years longer than you. I should think I'd know if it's some-SING or some-THING. "]
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
60th Anniversary of the Creation of Isreal
Here, in the Arab world, they call it "Al Nakba", the catastrophe. The formation of Israel as a Jewish state continues to reverberate through this area of the world and influence the decisions that affect people everywhere. I say this without hyperbole. The Arab view of what happened during the formation of Isreal reverberates today in how countries treat one another.
People of my generation - of my parent's generation - weren't alive or old enough to recall the events that lead to where we are today. Most don't understand the context or even try to understand the decisions that were made and the options that were avaialbable. From a purely historical point of view (without regard to political or religious beliefs), the formation of Israel is a great example of Westerners drafting agreements without understanding the regional context. I'm not saying the formation of Israel was a mistake, but the WAY in which it was created, the land that now forms Israel, the lack of international administration in shared holy areas (like Jerusalem) - these all contribute to the inequity felt by Arabs about what happened. And subsequently, the addition of new lands to Israel through wars and fighting continue to add to the injustice felt in this region. It could have been accomplished in so many other ways - and possibly left us in a completely different place than we are today.
Over a million Palestinians were displaced during the formation of Israel. They fled as refugees to countries throughout this region. To this day, many remain without a country or without citizenship. After 4 generations, many have given up hope and they have immigrated to other countries, given up their Palestinian "citizenship", and are integrated into the cultures of countries around the world. But many haven't given up hope, or are in countries (like the UAE) who do not offer them the opportunity for citizenship. So, they remain in limbo. They have no citizenship to any country - they carry Palestinian identity papers and have no passport.
At one time the Arab countries were very generous to the Palestinian refugees. But even in this region there is a sense of fatigue about the situation. There are fewer and fewer opportunities for Palestinians to apply for citizenship in Arab countries. The benefits and support they once received are being reduced or eliminated. Ironically, they are now turning to countries in the West where they are more easily able to apply for citizenship and integration into society.
In the US, we view these things as history, something that happened 60 years ago. "What's done is done," seems to be the opinion of many - if they even have an opinion. "Why can't 'they' (meaning both Jews and Arabs) just accept that and then move on?" It's difficult to generate any emotion in the US about a situation that is so far away. But here, it's not history - it's today's reality. The emotions are real and are felt today - especially on this 60th anniversary. It's too close to ignore. The historical sense of injustice continues to be felt. The wounds have never healed.
It's a tragedy that we are where we are. Who can say what the solution is? Not even the "experts" seem to know. The only way we can move forward is to really try and understand the past, understand the emotions, and demonstrate our commitment to justice.
For an arab perspective:
http://www.gulfnews.com/opinion/columns/region/10213011.html
People of my generation - of my parent's generation - weren't alive or old enough to recall the events that lead to where we are today. Most don't understand the context or even try to understand the decisions that were made and the options that were avaialbable. From a purely historical point of view (without regard to political or religious beliefs), the formation of Israel is a great example of Westerners drafting agreements without understanding the regional context. I'm not saying the formation of Israel was a mistake, but the WAY in which it was created, the land that now forms Israel, the lack of international administration in shared holy areas (like Jerusalem) - these all contribute to the inequity felt by Arabs about what happened. And subsequently, the addition of new lands to Israel through wars and fighting continue to add to the injustice felt in this region. It could have been accomplished in so many other ways - and possibly left us in a completely different place than we are today.
Over a million Palestinians were displaced during the formation of Israel. They fled as refugees to countries throughout this region. To this day, many remain without a country or without citizenship. After 4 generations, many have given up hope and they have immigrated to other countries, given up their Palestinian "citizenship", and are integrated into the cultures of countries around the world. But many haven't given up hope, or are in countries (like the UAE) who do not offer them the opportunity for citizenship. So, they remain in limbo. They have no citizenship to any country - they carry Palestinian identity papers and have no passport.
At one time the Arab countries were very generous to the Palestinian refugees. But even in this region there is a sense of fatigue about the situation. There are fewer and fewer opportunities for Palestinians to apply for citizenship in Arab countries. The benefits and support they once received are being reduced or eliminated. Ironically, they are now turning to countries in the West where they are more easily able to apply for citizenship and integration into society.
In the US, we view these things as history, something that happened 60 years ago. "What's done is done," seems to be the opinion of many - if they even have an opinion. "Why can't 'they' (meaning both Jews and Arabs) just accept that and then move on?" It's difficult to generate any emotion in the US about a situation that is so far away. But here, it's not history - it's today's reality. The emotions are real and are felt today - especially on this 60th anniversary. It's too close to ignore. The historical sense of injustice continues to be felt. The wounds have never healed.
It's a tragedy that we are where we are. Who can say what the solution is? Not even the "experts" seem to know. The only way we can move forward is to really try and understand the past, understand the emotions, and demonstrate our commitment to justice.
For an arab perspective:
http://www.gulfnews.com/opinion/columns/region/10213011.html
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Bye, Clive
Well, we decided that Clive wasn't working out for us. Primary reason (and we haven't told the charity this) is that he nipped our neighbor when he came over for a visit. No blood or anything, but aggressive behavior and a nip on the bum. Luckily it was Neil, the dad, and not Rose, the young daughter. And luckily it was through his jeans and not directly on his skin.
This after he had the car wash guy cornered in the garage earlier the same day. Poor fellow was protecting himself with a work bench. I was yelling and grabbing for him (Clive) - but he was fixated on protecting the house. Once he gets into his protective behavior, he will not obey either Russell or I.
Added to that is his behavior towards the cats. Somehow, he and Jet Girl have reached detente. But Peter still spends most of his day upstairs and away from the dog. Even when Clive is in his kennel. I think some of Peter's recent weight loss can be attributed to the stress of the dog barking and growling each time he sees Peter.
This all makes him sound like a bad dog. He's not. At home with us, he's a real sweetheart. A very clever dog who loves his family. But he's not into strangers or cats. And really if it weren't for the fact that he nipped the neighbor, I'd probably get all soft hearted and keep him.
I asked Lyra this morning if she'd miss Clive. "No," she said. "I don't like him jumping up on me." It was difficult for her to get attached to him. He jumped on her when he was excited, jumped up to see what food she had in her plate as she carried it to the table, jumped on her when she was going in the door to try and get inside. She did learn how to be firm with him - which is a good thing to know. Many times he would listen to her and get down, for a moment. And then he'd jump back up again.
I've learned from this that as much as puppies are hard work, I'd rather get a puppy and train him with good behaviors than to get a dog we don't know and try to break bad habits. Or if we did get an older dog, I'd like to know the background and habits first.
This after he had the car wash guy cornered in the garage earlier the same day. Poor fellow was protecting himself with a work bench. I was yelling and grabbing for him (Clive) - but he was fixated on protecting the house. Once he gets into his protective behavior, he will not obey either Russell or I.
Added to that is his behavior towards the cats. Somehow, he and Jet Girl have reached detente. But Peter still spends most of his day upstairs and away from the dog. Even when Clive is in his kennel. I think some of Peter's recent weight loss can be attributed to the stress of the dog barking and growling each time he sees Peter.
This all makes him sound like a bad dog. He's not. At home with us, he's a real sweetheart. A very clever dog who loves his family. But he's not into strangers or cats. And really if it weren't for the fact that he nipped the neighbor, I'd probably get all soft hearted and keep him.
I asked Lyra this morning if she'd miss Clive. "No," she said. "I don't like him jumping up on me." It was difficult for her to get attached to him. He jumped on her when he was excited, jumped up to see what food she had in her plate as she carried it to the table, jumped on her when she was going in the door to try and get inside. She did learn how to be firm with him - which is a good thing to know. Many times he would listen to her and get down, for a moment. And then he'd jump back up again.
I've learned from this that as much as puppies are hard work, I'd rather get a puppy and train him with good behaviors than to get a dog we don't know and try to break bad habits. Or if we did get an older dog, I'd like to know the background and habits first.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
School Choices
We're debating about what school to put Lyra in next year.
Our preference would be to keep her in Montessori, but that isn't available. So, we're down to looking at two different schools. Each offers their own advantages and it's really difficult to try and decide which way to go. So, I'm looking for opinions. What would sway you?
School #1
1. Is accredited by the American School system (not that this will really matter until she's doing standardized testing - which I think starts in 3rd or 4th grade).
2. Uses the International Baccalaureat curriculum - which we really like. It seems to have the closest relationship to Montessori principles.
3. Primarily expat families. Not just American or Canadian, but from all over the world. A smaller population of local families. Perhaps this would make it easier for Russell and I to meet the parents and make some friends.
4. Arabic is taught as a foreign language, but the entire curriculum is in English.
5. Full-day school day (8am to 3pm). I think both Lyra and Russell are ready for her to go for a longer school day.
School #2
1. Is also accredited by the American School systems.
2. Uses Montessori teaching principles in the Kindergaten classrooms. Is not a Montessori school, but has 2 Montessori trained teachers on the staff and they are applying many of the learning principles in the classroom and using some of the Montessori materials.
3. Primarily local families. The curriculum is taught in English and Arabic. Lyra would truly have a chance to learn to speak Arabic in this school.
4. One of her best friends from school now will be attending this school. We've kind of come to know her mother - and I really like her mom (not that we're buddies or anything), but she's really a neat person. So, maybe also a way to continue getting to know that family.
5. Half-day school day (7:45 to 12:30). We'd be able to enroll her in ballet, horseback riding, piano lessons, etc. to help keep her days busy.
Rebecca said...
Ohhh .... Love the IBC school - really opens the future for Lyra if she sticks with it (since you guys seem to be a traveling family!)
Learning Arabic would be so cool too though ...
These two items are exactly what is making it hard for me.
IB school - v. - going to a local school and learning Arabic - When else in her life will she have this opportunity?
Our preference would be to keep her in Montessori, but that isn't available. So, we're down to looking at two different schools. Each offers their own advantages and it's really difficult to try and decide which way to go. So, I'm looking for opinions. What would sway you?
School #1
1. Is accredited by the American School system (not that this will really matter until she's doing standardized testing - which I think starts in 3rd or 4th grade).
2. Uses the International Baccalaureat curriculum - which we really like. It seems to have the closest relationship to Montessori principles.
3. Primarily expat families. Not just American or Canadian, but from all over the world. A smaller population of local families. Perhaps this would make it easier for Russell and I to meet the parents and make some friends.
4. Arabic is taught as a foreign language, but the entire curriculum is in English.
5. Full-day school day (8am to 3pm). I think both Lyra and Russell are ready for her to go for a longer school day.
School #2
1. Is also accredited by the American School systems.
2. Uses Montessori teaching principles in the Kindergaten classrooms. Is not a Montessori school, but has 2 Montessori trained teachers on the staff and they are applying many of the learning principles in the classroom and using some of the Montessori materials.
3. Primarily local families. The curriculum is taught in English and Arabic. Lyra would truly have a chance to learn to speak Arabic in this school.
4. One of her best friends from school now will be attending this school. We've kind of come to know her mother - and I really like her mom (not that we're buddies or anything), but she's really a neat person. So, maybe also a way to continue getting to know that family.
5. Half-day school day (7:45 to 12:30). We'd be able to enroll her in ballet, horseback riding, piano lessons, etc. to help keep her days busy.
Rebecca said...
Ohhh .... Love the IBC school - really opens the future for Lyra if she sticks with it (since you guys seem to be a traveling family!)
Learning Arabic would be so cool too though ...
These two items are exactly what is making it hard for me.
IB school - v. - going to a local school and learning Arabic - When else in her life will she have this opportunity?
Thursday, May 8, 2008
It Was Fake
I found out today, that Tuesday's rain and thunderstorms were Man Made - a fake!
http://www.gulfnews.com/nation/Environment/10211450.html
I'm now feeling justified in my doubt that the clouds would actually produce rain. Under natural circumstances - it is unheard of to have rain in May.
http://www.gulfnews.com/nation/Environment/10211450.html
I'm now feeling justified in my doubt that the clouds would actually produce rain. Under natural circumstances - it is unheard of to have rain in May.
Cowboy Kitty
When we first got Peter, he was a tiny fellow. We saved his life! At over 1 year old, he was about 6 lbs and had a horrible upper respitory infection. The first day he was home, he curled up on the couch when we were heading out to a movie. Three hours later, we came back to find him in the same place. He was so skinny that when he walked around you could see the curves in his hips. He had bowed legs and looked like he'd spent his whole life on the back of a horse - like a cowboy. So, I started calling him Cowboy Kitty.
We really got worried when he wouldn't eat. We took him to the vet and she gave us antibiotics for the upper respitory infection and then gave him injections of fluid to help him recover from dehydration. We kept a close eye on him, but still he wouldn't eat. So, back to the vet and she gave him valium - which is an appetite stimulant - and told us to buy human baby food, the pureed meat.
After we returned home from our second vet visit, we put him down in front of a plate of warmed pureed meat. Peter started eating with gusto and after finishing the food, started rubbing his face and entire body all over the plate. The valium worked! Unfortunately, it just kept on working because he just kept on eating and eating and eating. Is there a valium antidote that we were supposed to take him in for?
By 2001, after 6 years in our care (and the care of my brother who pitched in when we moved to London), Peter had reached the size of a small ocelot. He was 23 lbs. Yes - twenty-three pounds. Gone were the cute bowed legs - they were hidden under his huge girth. And gone was his Cowboy Kitty nickname.
So, he went on a diet. The vet advised us that we'd need to go slowly. He would need to lose less than 1/4 lb a month or else run the risk of kidney damage. Over the next years, he gradually slimmed down to about 15 lbs before we came to Dubai. For a cat his size, this seemed a healthy weight. But since we've been here, he has continued to slim down to the point where we were worried about his health. A couple of weeks ago, he weighed 10 lbs.
We took him to the vet here and he diagnosed a parasite that seemed to be gone, but was still causing some pain on Peter's chin (there was a raw spot under his chin that seemed to itch and would bleed when scratched). At first, he asked us to see if it would heal on its own, but it seemed to just get worse. Peter would scratch it and he was bleeding all the time. But when it didn't get better, he gave us some medication. He said, "I didn't want to use this, but I guess we will." We would soon understand the reason for these ominous words.
I don't know what the official name is - but unofficially this stuff should be called "Cujo Transformation Salve". When we swab a small amount of the salve on the raw spot on his chin it instantly produces huge gobs of saliva and drool. Instantly! (Warning: Cover your eyes if you're squeemish). Like a rabid bull mastif, the gobs of drool hang from the corner of his mouth in huge gooey strings to the floor. He cowers in a corner (poor thing) and breaths rapidly while pools of slimy spit form around him. The effects seem to last for about 30 minutes.
We've administered this medication twice. The first time, Russell was alone and I wasn't there to witness. Later, Russell told me, "I don't like that medication. It makes Peter drool." That's it. Drool. But it seemed to work - so, I insisted on putting it on a second time when I could see that Peter still had a few raw spots that were bleeding. This time, I was there to witness the transformation. WOW! Drool?!?! Yes - he's drooling all right. I tried to catch some of the gooey strings with a paper towel and Peter swatted me. Ohhh boy was he mad!! So, that's it for the Cujo Transformation Salve. No more of that.
In the meantime, skinny Peter's back to being called Cowboy Kitty again. And he's eating again. And we're feeding him as much as we can - trying to get him back up to a healthy weight.
We really got worried when he wouldn't eat. We took him to the vet and she gave us antibiotics for the upper respitory infection and then gave him injections of fluid to help him recover from dehydration. We kept a close eye on him, but still he wouldn't eat. So, back to the vet and she gave him valium - which is an appetite stimulant - and told us to buy human baby food, the pureed meat.
After we returned home from our second vet visit, we put him down in front of a plate of warmed pureed meat. Peter started eating with gusto and after finishing the food, started rubbing his face and entire body all over the plate. The valium worked! Unfortunately, it just kept on working because he just kept on eating and eating and eating. Is there a valium antidote that we were supposed to take him in for?
By 2001, after 6 years in our care (and the care of my brother who pitched in when we moved to London), Peter had reached the size of a small ocelot. He was 23 lbs. Yes - twenty-three pounds. Gone were the cute bowed legs - they were hidden under his huge girth. And gone was his Cowboy Kitty nickname.
So, he went on a diet. The vet advised us that we'd need to go slowly. He would need to lose less than 1/4 lb a month or else run the risk of kidney damage. Over the next years, he gradually slimmed down to about 15 lbs before we came to Dubai. For a cat his size, this seemed a healthy weight. But since we've been here, he has continued to slim down to the point where we were worried about his health. A couple of weeks ago, he weighed 10 lbs.
We took him to the vet here and he diagnosed a parasite that seemed to be gone, but was still causing some pain on Peter's chin (there was a raw spot under his chin that seemed to itch and would bleed when scratched). At first, he asked us to see if it would heal on its own, but it seemed to just get worse. Peter would scratch it and he was bleeding all the time. But when it didn't get better, he gave us some medication. He said, "I didn't want to use this, but I guess we will." We would soon understand the reason for these ominous words.
I don't know what the official name is - but unofficially this stuff should be called "Cujo Transformation Salve". When we swab a small amount of the salve on the raw spot on his chin it instantly produces huge gobs of saliva and drool. Instantly! (Warning: Cover your eyes if you're squeemish). Like a rabid bull mastif, the gobs of drool hang from the corner of his mouth in huge gooey strings to the floor. He cowers in a corner (poor thing) and breaths rapidly while pools of slimy spit form around him. The effects seem to last for about 30 minutes.
We've administered this medication twice. The first time, Russell was alone and I wasn't there to witness. Later, Russell told me, "I don't like that medication. It makes Peter drool." That's it. Drool. But it seemed to work - so, I insisted on putting it on a second time when I could see that Peter still had a few raw spots that were bleeding. This time, I was there to witness the transformation. WOW! Drool?!?! Yes - he's drooling all right. I tried to catch some of the gooey strings with a paper towel and Peter swatted me. Ohhh boy was he mad!! So, that's it for the Cujo Transformation Salve. No more of that.
In the meantime, skinny Peter's back to being called Cowboy Kitty again. And he's eating again. And we're feeding him as much as we can - trying to get him back up to a healthy weight.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
It's HOT
Well, there's no denying that hot weather has arrived. Yesterday, our temps topped 40C for the first time this year (43 was the high = 109F). I still can't call it scorching, that weather is still to come.
It's so hot that not even a breeze offers any sense of relief. The wind just manages to stir up the heat, swirl it around, and then blow it into your face. Can it actually be hotter with a breeze in your face? Yes, it can.
We still manage to get some comfortable temps in the evening and through the night (around 25C to 30C at night). But that will soon be over, and it will just be hot, hot, hot - daytime and nighttime. All the time. I find it a bit disorienting to walk outside into a dark evening and have it be HOT! HOT! HOT! Or into an underground parking garage - and it is HOT! These days are coming.
Today, I drove into the city and it looked like a huge thunderstorm was developing. I knew better than to get my hopes up that there'd be any actual rain. But it sure was dark and gloomy. As I approached my office, a huge streak of lightening went across the sky. The thunder up in the clouds was nearly continuous. When I got up to my office, all my doubts of actual rain appearing were proven wrong. We actually had a rain storm. Well, a small burst of rain. Enough to wet the pavement, but not enough to for puddles or streams. I wonder how many 100's of years it has been since there was rain in May.
You know what happens when you get just a few spots of rain in this place? Everything gets covered with spots of mud. Because the rain picks up so much dust as it falls, it actually rains mud. I think we have some laundry hanging out on the patio - I'll have to see what damage was done when I get home this evening.
It's so hot that not even a breeze offers any sense of relief. The wind just manages to stir up the heat, swirl it around, and then blow it into your face. Can it actually be hotter with a breeze in your face? Yes, it can.
We still manage to get some comfortable temps in the evening and through the night (around 25C to 30C at night). But that will soon be over, and it will just be hot, hot, hot - daytime and nighttime. All the time. I find it a bit disorienting to walk outside into a dark evening and have it be HOT! HOT! HOT! Or into an underground parking garage - and it is HOT! These days are coming.
Today, I drove into the city and it looked like a huge thunderstorm was developing. I knew better than to get my hopes up that there'd be any actual rain. But it sure was dark and gloomy. As I approached my office, a huge streak of lightening went across the sky. The thunder up in the clouds was nearly continuous. When I got up to my office, all my doubts of actual rain appearing were proven wrong. We actually had a rain storm. Well, a small burst of rain. Enough to wet the pavement, but not enough to for puddles or streams. I wonder how many 100's of years it has been since there was rain in May.
You know what happens when you get just a few spots of rain in this place? Everything gets covered with spots of mud. Because the rain picks up so much dust as it falls, it actually rains mud. I think we have some laundry hanging out on the patio - I'll have to see what damage was done when I get home this evening.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Um Ali
Yummmm.
There is a dessert here that is the ultimate in comfort food. Um Ali. More like Yum Ali to me. It is the ulitmate in bread pudding. If you're a bread pudding fan, and I am, there is nothing more disappointing and a waste of calories than dry, bland bread pudding - even with a whiskey sauce spice it up. To me, it needs to be soft, gooey, creamy, sweet, and hot. I order bread pudding from all over the world, and finally I've found the answer to my dreams. Um Ali. It is everything I want bread pudding to be.

The bread absorbs the cream and sugar to become soft and velvety in your mouth. As you are enjoying the warm creamy goodness, you run across a small chewy morsel - either almond or pistachio. Many recipes call for sultanas (golden raisins). And the secret ingredient is a small addition of rose water syrup - just a hint of floral aromas to make you wonder, hmmm what is that?
All Arabic cuisines - Egyptian, Lebanese, Syrian, Emirati, Saudi, etc -claim that Um Ali is theirs. Each chef has her/his own signature ingredient to slightly alter the flavors: cardamom, cinnamon, rose water, coconut, or cashews. But it's all good - every single time. No buffet would be complete without Um Ali on the dessert table.
Yesterday, Lyra was invited to a birthday party for a classmate, Abdulrahman. It was our first invitation to an Arab household since we arrived. Many of her classmates were there and I sat and visited with the moms. We were: Lebanese, Indian, Greek (now Emirati by marriage), Palestinian, and American. When I arrived I had failed to catch the name of Abdulrahman's (Aboud for short) mother and I asked the moms at the table, "What is her name?" They said, "Um Aboud" which means mother of Aboud and then struggled to remember her given name, Abeer. In the Gulf Arab culture, when a woman has her first son, they call her "Um [name of eldest son]". The other Arab mothers, Lebanese and Palastinian, didn't have the same tradition in their cultures. The Greek mother in our group, Miriam, said that she has struggled to get used to being called Um Majid (her son's name). Everyone in her husband's family calls her this - and she says she always forgets to answer until they call out her name, Miriam. I will ask her, but I think that Miriam is her Muslim name. Many people will take a new name if they convert to Islam - which I'm pretty sure she converted and was not raised Muslim (there's not too many Greek Muslims).
So, now I know that Um Ali means "Mother of Ali." Whoever Ali was, his mama cooks a mean bread pudding. Now that's the ultimate in comfort - having a dessert named "Mama".
Here's a link to a simple recipe that you can try for yourself: http://aromahope.blogspot.com/2007/04/umm-ali.html
There is a dessert here that is the ultimate in comfort food. Um Ali. More like Yum Ali to me. It is the ulitmate in bread pudding. If you're a bread pudding fan, and I am, there is nothing more disappointing and a waste of calories than dry, bland bread pudding - even with a whiskey sauce spice it up. To me, it needs to be soft, gooey, creamy, sweet, and hot. I order bread pudding from all over the world, and finally I've found the answer to my dreams. Um Ali. It is everything I want bread pudding to be.

The bread absorbs the cream and sugar to become soft and velvety in your mouth. As you are enjoying the warm creamy goodness, you run across a small chewy morsel - either almond or pistachio. Many recipes call for sultanas (golden raisins). And the secret ingredient is a small addition of rose water syrup - just a hint of floral aromas to make you wonder, hmmm what is that?
All Arabic cuisines - Egyptian, Lebanese, Syrian, Emirati, Saudi, etc -claim that Um Ali is theirs. Each chef has her/his own signature ingredient to slightly alter the flavors: cardamom, cinnamon, rose water, coconut, or cashews. But it's all good - every single time. No buffet would be complete without Um Ali on the dessert table.
Yesterday, Lyra was invited to a birthday party for a classmate, Abdulrahman. It was our first invitation to an Arab household since we arrived. Many of her classmates were there and I sat and visited with the moms. We were: Lebanese, Indian, Greek (now Emirati by marriage), Palestinian, and American. When I arrived I had failed to catch the name of Abdulrahman's (Aboud for short) mother and I asked the moms at the table, "What is her name?" They said, "Um Aboud" which means mother of Aboud and then struggled to remember her given name, Abeer. In the Gulf Arab culture, when a woman has her first son, they call her "Um [name of eldest son]". The other Arab mothers, Lebanese and Palastinian, didn't have the same tradition in their cultures. The Greek mother in our group, Miriam, said that she has struggled to get used to being called Um Majid (her son's name). Everyone in her husband's family calls her this - and she says she always forgets to answer until they call out her name, Miriam. I will ask her, but I think that Miriam is her Muslim name. Many people will take a new name if they convert to Islam - which I'm pretty sure she converted and was not raised Muslim (there's not too many Greek Muslims).
So, now I know that Um Ali means "Mother of Ali." Whoever Ali was, his mama cooks a mean bread pudding. Now that's the ultimate in comfort - having a dessert named "Mama".
Here's a link to a simple recipe that you can try for yourself: http://aromahope.blogspot.com/2007/04/umm-ali.html
Thursday, May 1, 2008
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