I was in the kitchen an hour or so ago, preparing lunch, I bent down to get something out of the fridge, when there was THE most horrendous explosion! (Hold on just a moment, you are way ahead of me here!)
Well I turned around thinking that glass must have shattered from somewhere but was equally surprised to see NOTHING, absolutely nothing. On inspecting the pan, with the bubbling eggs, I noticed that there were now only two where once there had been three. Yes, you've guessed it, the third egg had exploded and was plastered around the extractor fan. Some dynamic chuck had layed ONE amazing egg!
So it's official, she can't even boil an egg!

Do you remember the games you played in the schoolyard when you were little?
One that I particularly remember involved chanting, “the farmer wants a wife”, whilst joining hands in a big circle around the chosen patriarch. The extension to this nuclear family was the ‘dog’ and the climax came, “heigh ho, heigh ho”, when the dog wanted a bone. Now the smallest child would be chosen to be ‘the bone’. The chanting would continue, “Eee oh! Eee oh!” as the bone was vigorously bounced, thrown into the air and then caught by the family in the centre of the ring.
I was never chosen as the bone and was grateful for the exclusion. I can only imagine that being ‘the bone’ must have been a mixed delight, painful and scary, as well as exciting.
The games we played were a bit like a group therapy session, you know, where you have to let go, let yourself fall and hope that someone is there to catch you. Being one of the milder misfits meant that you would do anything to be accepted by the pack.
These boisterous playground games, although involving a fair amount of pushing, shoving and the occasional thump, were all about the changeless order of things.
Today being accepted by ‘the pack’ has taken on a new and violent dimension. They now hunt down innocent victims and play a new game called ‘Happy Slapping’. There is no trust involved here. If you are chosen as the metaphorical ‘bone’ there is no one to catch you when you fall. Expect instead to be unconscious and hospitalised. “Heigh ho! Heigh ho!”

I think that this must be a record for me, nine days and no posts!
In fact just put me in a tie-dye kaftan, a pair of brown leather sandals and I'll sing you two verses (with chorus) of Kum bi ya, I have been so chilled out!

The only news I have is that I am now the proud owner of a Sony S700i mobile phone and camera. It is amazing! Would someone give me a call...please?

This is definitely a first for me in Saudi Arabia; I purchased a copy of Hello magazine today. Magazines of interest to females are few and far between and basically are things like Good Housekeeping and Homes and Gardens. These are also heavily censored so pages are torn out and pictures of females are subjected to black marker pen to obliterate any bare skin.
You can imagine my delight that not only was it an interesting find, but contained only the merest token of censorship, (Nicole Kidman's boobs had a white sticker across them.)
So talk amongst yourselves I'm off to read all about Camilla, Nicole and Paris.

The photograph speaks for itself.

After a wonderful voyage down the Red Sea towards Egypt, we set anchor at an amazing island with a spectacular fort that looked like the backbone of a dinosaur. The castle was originally named Ile De Graye Castle. It is better known as Pharaoh's Island, sometimes called Coral Island, or Geziret Faraum.



Snorkeling here in the crystalline blue waters, was the most incredible experience. The water was clear to the bottom and very deep. I saw, for the first time, a huge Parrot fish feeding below me on the coral, shoals of Clown fish swam around me and a huge purple jelly fish just brushed by my mask.
Some people from our party went diving, maybe this might be something I learn how to do in the future.

Just got back from the most amazing weekend. Thought you might like to see a few photographs over the next few days:



Off down the Gulf of Aqaba and heading towards Egypt.



The boat was a hundred foot twin-masted vessel with ten cabins and a crew of five plus the Captain.



No this isn't the boat, it's just one of the tankers in the gulf.

Avast me 'earties and scupper m'porthole, the Scates' are off on a little sea adventure. Not for us the luxury of cruise liners, deck coits and shuffle board; we will have the wind in our sails and creaking in the galley.
Our voyage will begin in Jordan tomorrow at 8 bells and we will sail down to Egypt to spend the day on an island. We sleep onboard tomorrow night and then back to port the following day.
Considering that I am a five star gal at heart, this is the closest I will get to roughing it. There will be a cabin to sleep in but I believe it is fairly basic. We did have the choice of sleeping on the deck but I think I will pass on this.
So I'll be back on Friday and I will tell you all about it then.