"Women must always follow men, for men are more highly regarded in this world and the next..."
This was taken from an article by Layla Al-Ahdah on the emancipation of women in Arab states. Now I reckon she's got it just right:
"This participation is not something that we should rush into - rather we must learn from the mistakes of others. Our goal is not to reach a point like that of some Western societies whereby a woman is totally pre-occupied with work, does not see to her children and deprives her body of necessary rest."
You see girls that's where we've got it all wrong. My body is not only deprived but absolutely starved of rest.
Have to go I need to parade my placard up and down the lounge where husband is flat out having his little after dinner snooze.
"We women need rest! Rights for women to rest! Resting should be our right."

I received an e-mail today from an old school chum via Friends Reunited; I binned it without reading the contents. Maybe an explanation is required.
Last year the first ever reunion was held from my primary school days and as I hadn’t met up with any of these people for…umpteen…years, was also in the UK at the time of the meeting, I decided to go along for a laugh.
Now they say that revenge is a dish best served cold, so I reckoned that after all of the years that had gone by, my dish was not just cold but definitely frozen! You see I had a little unfinished business with one or two people, old scores to settle and incidents that I hadn’t put to bed! I don’t want you to think that I had spent all of this time seething and plotting because of a few childhood slights, real or imagined, but I am human and my interest was piqued.
The venue was in the village where we all grew up and went to school and lucky old me, the first person I met was ‘score number one’. I approached and said the usual ‘hello’s’, calling him by his name. He looked blank, he yawned, he glanced over my shoulder in an arrogant display of mock boredom and said, “Who are you?” Maybe this style was currently Uber - vogue amongst men but I thought he was just a prat lacking any rudimentary social skills. When I asked him what he did for a living he told me that he was a lorry driver. Get out of here!
Turning my back I bumped straight into ‘score number two’! Once a ballet dancing, popular ten year old who’s Mum owned a sweet shop. If you were lucky enough to be one of her friends you were given those sherbet flying saucer sweeties that exploded in your mouth. I had to buy my own so what does that tell you? I have to say not only was she gracious and charming but she remembered my name. I felt sad when she told me that she had spent her years looking after her Mother and that she had never known the joy of having a family. I also discovered that she had been one of the ‘carers’ for my own elderly Mother and had been so eager to find out where I was living in the world and how my career was progressing. On reflection I had no scores to settle.
My life is far away from these people now. I have moved on and have no reason to attend this year’s reunion. Have a nice time and thanks for the e-mail Janice.

So it's been another busy weekend here in the magic kingdom. Last night we went to a Caribbean evening with the Chalkies (teachers) and had a fantastic night at Papa Grandes. The food was delicious, the venue great and people terrific! However, there was 'the match' and the shouting reverberated around the compound; unfortunately for me as I was trying to sleep...ZZZZZ!
Lazy day today and we spent the afternoon revisiting Black Adder. This is guaranteed to make me laugh. I adore the characters and the dialogue is Ben Elton at his best:
"She goes like a privy door when the plague's in town," and my all-time favourite from Flash-Heart, "treat a woman like your plane, climb into her twice a day and take her to heaven and back!"

Reflecting on yesterday's post, I couldn't help but comment today on the whole shopping experience in the land of sand. Now you are all used to going into a shop and knowing, from the price label, what you have to pay. Here shopping is a definite art-form and requires a distinctive negotiating style: you must be forceful, explicit and results-oriented. Although these traits inevitably vary according to how you feel and circumstances at the time, a recognisably pragmatic style is always necessary.
Shopping in the souks begins with an examination of the product. Gold is an excellent buy here but you do have to know what you're doing. So you look, you pull a disinterested face, you walk along the display counter in a distracted fashion, you shrug, shake your head and hiss through your teeth (hissing is a cultural necessity). The chosen item is then weighed so that they can calculate a price. Once told the price you roll your eyes heavenward and do more hissing and shrugging. The next step requires the intending purchaser to say, "Come on sidiq, best, best price." The drama continues with more hissing, threats to walk out and arms thrown around until the deal is done and the 'best price' is obtained. I see myself as a tough but fair bargainer but after the initial adrenalin has subsided I always question whether I did get the best price, I doubt it!

That is if you can get it! I have told you all about the sheeps eyes and the camels testicles for sale in Astra supermarket, well last weekend someone spotted a frozen turkey with an odd label. It stated:
Turkey killed in Brazil with a sharp knife!
Oh, how we laughed!

I have been watching the coverage of the Chelsea Flower Show with Alan Titchmarsh and old Dirmuid Gavin! One whole hour of bliss with beautiful gardens, exquisite plants and excellent photography. I loved the section where Charlie Dimmock asked the celebs, "if you were a flower what would you be?" An interesting thought which I would like to pose:
So if you could be a flower...?

...Paul Johnson.

Did anyone else see it, the interview last night on Sky News with the two Japanese England football supporters? It went something like this:
"So you've travelled all the way from Japan to see England play tonight?"
"Yes."
"So tell me who is your favourite player?"
"Beckham!"
Getting a little more desperate.
"And so you'll be shouting for England tonight. Tell me what you will be shouting."
Looking a little bewildered and pausing before replying.
"Ringerland, Ringerland!"
"Well I don't speak Japanese but enjoy the game anyway!"
Oh, absolutely hilarious.

There are sites from the Kingdom that deal with the issues that are happening at the moment but although I read them I will not be linking to them from my page. I will not knowingly compromise the safety of anyone living here or cause obvious offence. I never make flagrant comments but have, on occasions, asked your opinions on the funnier side of life here. The site is meant for fun and to provide a platform for my writing and photographic hobbies. Surely though, I cannot let the day go by without asking all of you to spare a thought for Paul Johnson.

When Phil and I went to St Lucia he insisted that we take a moonlit walk along the beach. In the warm, still tropical evening, with the waves gently lapping onto the pure white sands, he patted a sun lounger and asked me to lie down. Both snuggled onto one reclining seat he gently stroked my arm and whispered, "Have you ever seen anything more beautiful than Uranus?" Yes, mmm, well, this was the first time that I realised that another of Phil's passions was, and still is, astronomy. So the next half hour was spent tracking the Big Dipper and looking for Orion's Belt!
For his birthday a wonderful 'bit o'kit' has arrived from the States which guarantees many happy hours of star gazing for my very own Patrick Moore. Last night I was called several times into the garden to see the rings of Saturn and three of its moons. Now the first time it was...wow! The second time, sort of interesting but each subsequent look heaven-wards didn't do much for me at all. I am now covered in mosquito bites and as every night here is clear and cloudless, I may be in for another session of looking for Pluto.

I read recently that we expats living here, are like canaries in gilded cages. We are quite happy in our cages but the cat always knows where the meal is and should the door be left open... So here is the news from this cage.
Tuesday evening, a friend dropped by having just returned from a visit to the UK. Not only did she bring the latest copy of Hello magazine but, oh bliss, a huge chunk of Shropshire Blue!!!! To the unenlightened, this is THE most fantastic cheese on earth and one which I hadn't tasted in about 8 years. I savoured every last morsel!
Wednesday evening, saw us at a quiz night with friends. Our team comprised of 4 Brits, 2 Australians and a Canadian so we had the geography questions fairly wrapped up. This was great fun but left us wondering what armadillos CAN do underwater?
And then Thursday morning, Phil was coerced into taking part in the Swimming Gala. Now in his defence you have to understand that there are a lot of fit young guys here and he was up against the best. I arranged for the paramedics to be on stand-by and gave him an all over Brazilian! However, the boy done good; 1 third place, 2 dead losses and the relay team he was in, came FIRST! I have his certificates stuck on the fridge and very proud I am too. Sorry have to cut this short, I need to go check on his progress and see if he needs more oxygen.

“Allowing women to mix with men is the root of every evil and catastrophe. It is highly punishable. Mixing of men and women is a reason for greater decadence and adultery. Unveiled women are the root of all evil.” So says Sheikh Abdulaziz bin Abdullah bin al-Sheikh. Will some sane, rational person please explain this to me?

Just chatting to Miss L on Messenger:
Miss L: You are so loud on Messenger!
L: No Im nit I've just logged on.
Miss L: Nits, have you got NITS?
L: NOOOO, u know what I mean LOL
Miss L: Hows Ed?
L: Looking forward to seeing him soon!
Miss L: Is steph comin gout. Well not with the gout!
We spend hours chatting but the most amusing thing is that the typing is so atrocious that we end up just going round and round in circles. Anyway I said that I couldn't think of anything to write about and she has bigged (or even begged)me to run another caption competition, so watch out for that in the near future.

This Saudi weekend has been a little stressful for me and one which I would prefer not to dwell too seriously upon. However, there are things that I wish to mull around but unfortunately it may come across as oblique or ‘smokescreens and mirrors’ by the very nature of the thought process that it has gone through. Writing is supposed to be cathartic and so I will continue.
The foundations of my early childhood were laid down by parents who had very strong moral values, who were hard working and basically honest people. On this 60th anniversary of the D Day landing I was reminded of my Father’s efforts to ‘do his bit’ for his country. When the very first calls went out for able-bodied men to serve their country, he was at the front of the queue, hammering on the door. Now as a miner this was never meant to be, his contribution in his work role being considered more important to the war effort. This affected his pride so very badly and he tried to enlist repeatedly. To assuage these feelings of guilt he began an exhausting four years of eighteen hour shifts, seven days a week. This was the very metal of the man, strong and honourable.
My reason for writing this is that I believe I disappointed him, in the last few years of his life, by my behaviour. This may be clouded by my own guilt feelings and my over-indulgence for self-pity but on occasions this belief slams me in the stomach with the force of a sledge hammer.
No one can change the past, the very best we can do is understand and live with the processes of ‘cause and effect’. I made a promise to my son in February, one which he has been trying to hold me to for some time. My part of the promise has begun; I just wanted him to know.