It's nearly time for the term to end, the children are all in the multi- purpose hall and I am tidying my desk and waiting for the bell.
As I had a moment to myself this lunchtime I fixed the archives. Unfortunately all of the Shout-outs have disappeared so I look like Billy Nomates and all of the funny entries to the Caption Competitions are no longer there; maybe another one is on the cards.
Be back in two days time!

...but I have been feeling a bit under the weather. In fact I even took Sunday off! This ear problem just hasn't gone away so I took to my bed and slept away the day, (pause for unanimous, "there, there, brave soldier.") Tonight I am packing a few bits and pieces that I travel with because tomorrow evening I begin my journey to Cyprus and our home. After work I travel up to Jordan and should be in the hotel in Amman by ten o'clock. I will have a day here because the flight doesn't leave until Thursday evening.
Friday I will be getting my BM out of bond and then unpacking the villa. Hopefully I will be back and posting from Cyprus on Saturday/ Sunday.
If you want something very funny to read go over to Tami's site and read about the 'Great British Bottom'! :)

The new photographic challenge begins on April 1st. I hope everyone has a go; it's twenty questions about you and you answer with a photograph. This one will be better for me as there will be no deadline. More information here:
Twenty Questions.

Every desert should have an oasis.

I once lived in the midst of a strong farming community in the back of beyond. It was at this time that Edward equated food with a possible picnic opportunity. We picnicked in such diverse locations from the Highlands of Scotland to the little narrow lane opposite the house. We were true hardy, roughty toughty types who picnicked even in snow and horizontal rain. Edward discovered at an early age, that designated picnic sites had wooden tables which were ideal for keeping all that dreadful rain off if you actually sat under them!
So I was intrigued when a farmer related a story at a dinner party at this time. He told of coming across a family having a picnic in the middle of one of his fields. He asked the family to leave as they were trespassing and before he could warn them that a bull was grazing just over the rise and that this was the reason for his request, he received a stream of abuse. After many protestations and threats from the trespassers they did eventually pack their things in their car and drive off.
Unfortunately for the offending picnickers, the farmer knew them and where they lived. So, the following weekend, he asked his wife to pack a picnic and off they went, round to the previously mentioned owners house. They then commenced setting out the picnic things on this family’s pristine front lawn. He even put up wickets so that his boys could play cricket.
The owner was incensed but after a heated discussion he appeared to get the message.

Finally got to sleep at 2AM this morning (and a school night!) all because we just had to watch the outcome of...(drum roll)...the "Scrap-Heap Challenge!" I just love this programme on Discovery and last night the challenge was between the French, the Americans and ...the BRITS.
The challenge was to design and construct a period airplane on the lines of the Wright Flyer, courtesy of Wilbur and Orville. With comments like, "mmmm the French have an interesting design here but it seems to lack...wings!" I knew we were in for a compelling two hours viewing.
To summarize: on the two test flights the French got it up for 30 seconds, the Americans had made a splendid bus but the British raised their fuselage, looped the loop and flew for a magnificent three minutes ...AND could have gone on! So cheering and singing "Those magnificent men in their flying machines..." we awaited the comments of the British pilot. "Well the instruments are b.........and I was flying blind. Just have to fly by the seat of m'pants in the challenge!"
In the actual race, the French did a sneaky touch down half way through and landed beyond the red line, the American team flew for all of twenty seconds and the Brits did a wonderful aerial display, flew upside down and landed, without brakes, exactly on the red line.
The winners, GREAT Britain!! Chocks away!
(Apologies to Tami and all of my French readers...do I have any?)

The Beach at the Movenpick, Aqaba. These are the last photographs of the visit to Jordan for my birthday; well that is until we go again.



So Morgan have you got your bucket and spade?

First play around with Photoshop.
Pool at Aqaba, (the Movenpick)

There was an article in the Arab News a few days ago which beggars belief! A man was being interviewed because he had had 58 wives! They are allowed 4 wives at a time and it is a simple case of saying, "I divorce thee, I divorce thee, I divorce thee." His intention is to make it 60 before he reaches the ripe old age of fifty. His youngest wife is 14! Well I think that says it all!

The last part of my birthday present arrived yesterday, Photoshop Elements 2. It was a complete surprise and all because I wanted to be able to frame my photographs.

Hope you all had a good Mothering Sunday. I know I had to work but I have had a card, a phone call and text message. Phil took me out for a meal tonight at the compound restaurant where they were doing a special meal and giving out roses. All-in-all, not a bad day considering the three and a half thousand miles between us.

Phil and I are really into these Palm Pilot thingies. Yesterday I stayed in bed, not feeling too well, and Phil offered to do the food shop on his own as long as I wrote out a list. He suggested I write it on the PDA and zap it over to his. One hour later we were finally in Sync and it had taken so long that it was prayer time and the shops had shut!
This was the conversation we had in the afternoon whilst both of us were relaxing on the settee:
"So what you doing on your PDA?"
"Playing a game."
"Oh, so am I. What you playing?"
"Solitaire."
"So am I!...This is really very SAD Philip, both of us sitting next to each other and playing Solitaire."
"I know we do EVERYTHING together!"
Erm...

When you teach you are surrounded by noses that stream and are subjected to sneezes that would knock lesser mortals off their feet or be as powerful as a fall-out from a Russian nuclear reactor. So I've got an ear infection and a strange left arm which would send most neurotic, paranoid hypochondriacs hammering on a doctors door before you could say cardiac arrest.
I hate going to the doctors. I was brought up to believe that you didn't waste their time with anything less than a temperature of 104. I promised myself that if I hadn't improved by today I would go and see the Doc tomorrow. Well I feel a heck of a lot better today and only have a throbbing ear so I will see how I feel tomorrow before work. I'll keep you posted.

Most people like flowers; I like to grow, buy, read about them and receive them as gifts. I love the fragrance of jasmin and huge white lillies in a simple crystal vase.
Last weekend in Aqaba I saw one of my all time favourite flowers; Bird of Paradise. Doesn't the name itself conjure up pictures of exotic blooms? I first came across them in Blandy's gardens in Madeira and fell instantly in love with these quirky blooms. I have several plants of this type in the garden in Cyprus but they are not too successful because of the altitude. The one nearest the villa comes into bud during my Easter vacation but I leave before it opens and so I have never seen its beauty.



Two weeks today I will be flying home to Cyprus. Maybe this year I will be lucky.

During the library lesson for some of the younger children this week, there was a slight buzz in the air which sent out warning bells for the teacher in charge. Spring obviously had arrived in Saudi and those young hormones were rising faster than the sap in the trees.
On investigation the teacher found a group of children huddling and doing a fair amount of nudge, nudging, guffawing and pointing to the front cover of a book. After assessing the situation he dismissed the behaviour as harmless and deliberately allowed the boy, who had initially chosen the book, to scan the book out.
We figure that Sam will be more than a little disappointed when he gets his book home and starts to read "From SEXtant to Sonar". It will surely not contain the information and elightenment that he was hoping for. I think next week he will be going back to Roald Dahl or JK Rowling.

We have a party invitation for the end of April which has created quite a stir. The theme of the party is Arabian Nights and you are expected to dress accordingly! From conversations recently heard it would seem that some people are scraping the barrel for costume ideas. P....(male) quite fancies coming as a tavern wench and someone else expressed an interest in borrowing a white satin Elvis costume, with hairy chest wig and medallion!
We sought inspiration in the market area of Aqaba. Phil bought the ubiquitous gutra and I purchased a skirt type, belt thing covered in silver disks and bells which requires the gyrating hips of a belly dancer to do it justice. My dilemma now is what else to wear? I know I need a veil (well seven actually) but what about the top half? What has happened to the days when you just put on the little black dress and you were ready to party?

...or have such an incredible atmosphere.
I love markets. I'm not talking about the sanitized versions that we get in the UK where Trading Standards and local health authorities have seemed to strip the character from a Savoy cabbage all in the name of progress and consumer protection. No, I'm campaigning for the rights of the bent banana and the right for a tomato to smell like a tomato. The challenge of haggling with the stall holder for 'best price sidiq' and then the friendly banter that ensues.
Aqaba market was all of these things and more. Not for the squeamish if you like your lamb without the hairy head still on the carcass.

I've just finished a ten hour day and so I'm exhausted; parent conferences after school today. I really enjoy talking to parents and discussing the progress that their children are making. I think I am fortunate in that they are, on the whole, a nice bunch of people.
Todays photograph from Aqaba, is rather apt in that the sun is going down and I am at this moment ready to crawl into bed. This was taken from the hotel balcony and is looking towards Israel. The container ship is anchored for the night prior to its departure at first light.



The page is up and running and I am delighted with it; thank you Ed.

The page is in the process of being revamped (birthday present from Ed) but I wanted to post a few photographs today that begin our 'jolly' to Aqaba.
The first photograph has taken 4 years to capture but I made it on our outward journey. These camels are just too precious to go on foot!



For those who have never heard of Aqaba it is situated at the northern end of the Red Sea Gulf. King Abdullah has a palace on the beach and it sits uneasily next to Israel and Egypt. The town is poor but rich in hospitality and history.



This was taken from the hotel balcony overlooking Aqaba and the Gulf of Aqaba.



For anyone interested in my actual birthday I had a wonderful time; Louis Vuitton wallet (to go with the bag from Christmas), Dead Sea beauty products and a Ralph Lauren shorts and top beach set. I spent the day on the beach and then out for a lovely meal in the evening. Edward rang me many times over the weekend (oh, I'm filling up) and made a wonderful card and my new page design (3 actually because he knows me well). I had lots of gifts and cards from the children on Wednesday, so that was lovely too. Whoops nearly forgot, lots of electronic greetings from friends around the world. I just love birthdays!

Off to Jordan in 2 hours be back on Friday!

It's my birthday on Thursday and we will be celebrating in Aqaba, Jordon. Phil and I are travelling up through the border on Wednesday afternoon straight after school, and should be there at the Movenpick by 5.30pm. Hopefully, the weather will be warm enough to swim in the sea and I want to go out to the coral reefs to spot a bit of marine life; I have seen dolphins in the bay many times.
Dinner will be taken under the stars at the Royal Yacht Club which is situated on the harbour front. Here the food is exotic and delicious.
Can't wait!

We are making bread tomorrow in DT! As you know by now, I am no great cook but this is part of my job and so tomorrow will see me demonstrating the fine art of making a delicious crusty loaf! The children know me and Jessica asked if I was really up for this as I'd obviously forgotten what happened the last time we explored the properties of yeast in our science lesson (another story I feel).
Of course I'm up for it, and so confident am I, that I have this evening prepared a loaf for the oven. I followed a 'basic' bread recipe hoping that this would help. With instructions of knead it, prove it and then knock it back I thought I was about to go 6 rounds with Mike Tyson. I think I knocked it back a little too much as it seemed to go into a coma round about the third bashing.



It is, at this very moment, in the oven; I can't wait to have a slice with a little Stilton and a few grapes.



Does it look like pate to you? Ol' Betty Crocker never has this problem!

I have written about Masalama parties in previous Blogs and they are certainly quite the norm here as people pack their boxes for good and head off to their homes around the world.
We went to yet another party at the weekend where several people were celebrating the fact that they have only an exit visa in their passports. For most of us this is the moment we all work so hard for and the reason we are prepared to put up with the restraints that govern our everyday life here.
The gifts given to the lucky leavers range from the sublime to the ridiculous; plastic alarm clocks which shout out the prayer times, woolly hats and jumpers to acclimatise people going back to the UK and often Arab tribal coats which will no doubt look delightful on those visits to Tescoes.
When going on our daily walk round the compound, I can't help but reflect on the number of people about to leave or who have left since I came to Saudi 6 and a half years ago. After Thursday's Masalama I tried to count up the total number of my friends and acquaintances who have left. I gave up at 72.
In 5 years time we should be able to retire and so one day we will be giving our own Masalama party. The villa will be paid for, we should have enough money to retire, with a little left over to travel round the world. These are the goals which we haven't lost sight of, and God willing, some or all will be achieved. However, there are bound to be a load more leaving parties before 2009, I just wish that they didn't make me feel so sad.

Sunset over Tabuk.



This is the biggest mosque in Tabuk.

Yesterday I read an article about spouses who just suddenly disappear and no foul play is suspected. Everything seems perfectly normal on the day of the disappearances and no one is more surprised than the person left behind.
I cannot conceivably imagine what this must be like but obviously one of the questions must be 'why'?
It was whilst reflecting on this that I remembered an incident retold by a friend living in another part of the Kingdom. He works for a large petroleum company and a few years ago he was interviewing guys from the UK for a position in the Middle East. The interviews were held in Saudi Arabia and so a lengthy process to obtain visas for the candidates had been undertaken .
On the day of the interview one candidate stood out as being particularly strong. However, he seemed a little disorientated and Jeff assumed that he was dehydrated; extremely likely with temperatures hitting 30 plus. Out of consideration, the interview was halted so that he could go out for water.
After 45 minutes he still hadn't returned and so someone was sent out to look for him. He had gone back to the hotel, packed his bag and then decided to cross the main high-way to buy something from the garage on the other side of the road.
This was the last time he was ever seen. He had just disappeared without a trace. His passport and ticket for his return flight were still in his bag and a mobile phone was left by the bed in the hotel room.
Search parties were sent out into the desert and local tribes were asked to keep an eye out for him. He was never seen again and his body was never found.
What happened to him is a mystery.