Rumor? No, truth.

Someone, not to long ago, said to DH, "You know they are going to completely redo Dhahran Highway and put it underground." DH, responded, "Are you serious? That is going to be a nightmare." Well, it's true. That is what they are going to do. The work has already started. Trips downtown? They will be few and far between. As if being on the roads here in The Sandbox isn't horrific enough!

Anyone who ever experienced the project in Boston, Massachusetts, known as "The Big Dig" knows exactly what kind of nightmare this is going to be. We lived in New Hampshire until 1998; I had the unfortunate pleasure of commuting 60 miles, one-way, to and from work in Concord, N.H., to Boston, MA, for a couple of years - the whole while the "Big Dig" was taking place. Good times. Not. I was not alone. DH did the commute a couple of times a week the whole time we lived in NH going back and forth, commuting from Logan Airport to RDU in Durham, N.C., a couple of times a week for work.

Good grief. What genius decided that this was necessary?

Sounds to me like someone's upset...

...about the win, or loss, depending on how you look at it. I didn't watch the Oscars. I am glad Hurt Locker won over Avatar. I haven't seen either movie. Not really true, I saw part of Avatar - like a single five-minute scene. I have no interest or desire to watch the whole movie.

Yahoo was running one of their "headlines," something to the effect, "Best Dressed at the Oscars," and showed someone, Miley Cyrus, someone and someone. Why do I remember Miley Cyrus? Because Yahoo identified her as Sarah Jessica Parker. Even I knew it wasn't SJP. Miley, by the way, what are you, 17? You looked 35 in that gown with that updo. Slow down, honey. You've got plenty of time to play grown-up left ahead of you.

So I clicked on to see how the "stars" dressed and what "grades" they were given for their choices. This irks me. Not the dress - although it isn't the most lovely gown at the ball, by any stretch, but the fact that whoever did the commentary and issued the grade said this, "Can you believe James Cameron's Amazonian ex is 58?!" Was it really necessary to call Ms. Bigelow "Amazonian?" No. I don't think so. And I don't think she deserves a "D," either. A "B." The color doesn't do much for Ms. Bigelow, but the dress itself is okay. Navy blue would have been a better choice of color. So, because Avatar didn't win, and Hurt Locker did, she got called "Amazonian." I think she is an attractive woman and she looks absolutely fabulous for 58!

Look at some of those other frocks? Demi Moore, what were you thinking? SJP, yellow isn't really your color. What were their grades? A far cry above Ms. Bigelow's "D," I bet. See? Even the Oscars is political and if the left doesn't win, they start name calling. What is that, page 5 out of Saul Alinsky's handbook?

More Fun Than Should Be Allowed In A Day

It wasn't all that bad, today, actually. Oh, well, yeah, sure a little painful. But every year except for the very first year, it has been painful. The parking was [almost] the worst part.

[To the one or two male readers that come here - if this makes you squeamish - talking about "female health issues," stop reading now.] Let's face it. Getting a mammogram is no fun. None. Whatsoever. But, it has to be done. When I had my very first one, quite a few years back, afterward I thought to myself, "Gee. That wasn't all that bad. Wonder what all the fuss is about." I'm guessing the technician that did that very first one didn't have a clue as to what she was doing. Every mammogram since has been painful. Could you POSSIBLY squish me any FLATTER?!! I don't think so!!! Today I asked the technician if she realized she had some of my clavicle bone squished between her plastic plates, too. She told me that it was "only skin." I don't think so. Skin is relatively pliable. Bones are not.

So, after my mammogram I trotted off to make an appointment for my blood work - which has been ordered by my plastic surgeon in the States and which my doctor, here, ordered so that I can have all of the necessary pre-op "stuff" out of the way before I leave in ten days. No appointment necessary. Just fast for twelve hours and go get the tests done. I will start fasting tonight at 7P. I'll be at the clinic tomorrow at 7A. [Which means I am all but guaranteed a parking spot! Anytime after 7:30, though, and you play the parking game.]

After I left the lab, I went to reception to make an appointment for my EKG. Not necessary. Go straight to the EKG lab and sign in and wait for no more than two or three minutes and - done. Just like that. Done. Who knew it could be so easy? Have to give the company, here, which runs our clinic big kudos for stream-lining things in certain areas.

So, by 7:30 or 8:00 tomorrow morning, I should have everything I need done and all I will have to do is collect the records - I will order them tomorrow - and I'm good to go.

Twelve hours with nothing but water. Not that big of a deal... You have to do what you have to do, sometimes.

An accident? No. Attempted Murder.

An accident is when you pick up a glass of water too quickly and end up splashing yourself - perhaps in your eye - and choking because of your own force with which you raised the cup or glass. Do two-year-old children do this? Yes. [Which is precisely why there are sippy cups with lids.] Attempted murder is when you try to force a two-year-old to drink chlorine and pour it in the eye of the child. An accident. Umm hmm. Sure. I hope the twenty-three-year-old woman second wife who did this to this to an innocent little two-year-old girl rots away somewhere for a very, very long time.

A man divorced his wife, with whom he had two children. A little boy and a baby girl. Sometime afterward he remarried a twenty-three-year-old woman who, apparently, was not much keen on being a stepmother. Or so, it would seem. The little girl suffered at the hands of this wicked stepmother who is blaming prior injuries to the, then, baby - a broken leg and fractured thigh - on her, then, two-and-a-half-year-old brother. What two-and-a-half-year-old child is capable of inflicting such injuries to a baby? I suppose in some far fetched way it could happen. After all, anything is possible. I just highly doubt it.

Do I think that abuse of children by a stepmother or stepfather doesn't happen all over the world? Of course it does. I am merely pointing out this instance because it yet, again, brings to light the fact that divorce, here, when there are children involved, means that the children will automatically go to the father. I posted on another such instance a week or so ago, while we were away, and I was using the laptop. It's back there, in the archives. In that case, the mother was a non-Saudi who after divorcing her husband was banished to her home country to never see her little boy again and the father beat him so badly he was in the hospital for two weeks.

Am I the only one who sees something horribly wrong with this system? Of course, there is absolutely nothing I can do to change it. Just the way it is. Here, in The Sandbox. Such is life, I guess.

Bathrooms in Bali and Restaurant Review

One word. Scary. Regretfully I have to disappoint, but after checking out just a couple out of necessity stops sans camera and then realizing that the necessity wasn't there after all due to the general condition of the facility, I did not bother to do the bathroom scene in Bali as I have done in other countries. With, of course, a couple of exceptions.

There was one restaurant that we decided was our favorite in Kuta. Well, it was my favorite. DH liked it very much as well. His favorite restaurant was near our villa in Seminyak, and we ate there several times. It would be a toss-up, really, as to which was "better" than the other. This post isn't really about the restaurants as much as it is the restrooms. Combining both just seems wrong. Oh, well. What the heck?!

Rumours is the restaurant that we ate at most often. We tried many, but kept going back to Rumours. Great calamari. The nice thing about Rumours is that it is only one or two restaurants down from Rumours was Ultimo, an Italian restaurant I really liked. Ultimo had the best lobster and avocado salad I have ever tasted. I could not stop eating it!

The second night we were there, in Bali, and headed out to find a place for dinner, I told DH that I wanted Italian. He saw the menu posted outside of Rumours and said, "Let's see what is on this menu." He looked, and before we could even think of walking away the young hostess said, "Two for dinner?" I responded and said, "No, not tonight. I really think I would like Italian tonight. Perhaps tomorrow." Not missing a beat the hostess said, "We have Italian menu, also." A second later I had Ultimo's menu in my hand. So the nice thing about these two restaurants is that they will let you order off of either menu. From there on we were at either Rumours or Ultimo twice a week for our duration. Excellent service at both. Good food. Good prices. I am fairly certain that one of the reasons DH enjoyed Rumors so much is that they treated his Bintang [Indonesia's Favorite Beer. Indonesia's ONLY beer!] with the respect he felt it deserved.

They put the bottle in a champagne bucket full of ice and covered it with a towel...

Because I had already managed to sneak a peek at facilities in other places, I just did not even bother chancing upon whatever conditions I might find and did not use facilities anywhere outside of our villa for the entire three weeks we were in Bali, except for ONE instance. If I even felt like it might be remotely possible that I might need facilities I would send DH in first to scope out the area. Didn't happen. I could tell by the look on his face as he would get back into sight whether or not it would be possible. [Scroll down.]

DH came out of the restroom one night and said, "You have to see the signs on the doors in there. It is a unisex bathroom and on the ladies stall they have that girl on the mud flaps on 18-wheelers." Okay. Off to the unisex bathroom I went, camera in hand.

I was a little surprised to not see the mud flap on the ladies stall and had completely misheard DH on that. He meant the sign on the door was the same. I was expecting the mud flap. Little misunderstanding. Nonetheless a nice, clean, usable facility! With real towels instead of paper towels or kleenex.

My favorite restaurant was in Kuta, not far from Seminyak, perhaps fifteen minutes or so. Poppies. We only went there twice, much to my dismay. There is not one appetizer, or salad, or daily special or other entree that I did not enjoy - the grilled mahi-mahi was absolutely delicious. Along with it being just a charming little restaurant, with good food and great service, it had the best Mojito's that I have ever had!

Apparently, Poppies is known for its world famous Pina Colada. Pretty majestic is all I can say!

It was at Poppies where I discovered the sign that said to not put articles of clothing in the toilet. Honestly. Never in my life. In the many countries and ladies rooms that I have ventured into have I seen a sign that had to instruct someone NOT to put articles of clothing into a toilet. I can only just barely comprehend that it had to have been a problem at some point or the sign wouldn't have been needed. Right?

Seriously?! A sign that says do not put articles of clothing in the toilet ... use the bin. You just have to wonder...

I'm still not able to quite comprehend how much of a problem this had to have been!

Back to life, here, in The Sandbox.

While we were in Bali, the lay-out of the on-line version of Arab News changed, drastically. You can no longer look at the on-line version and know what was actually on the front page. The headlines all run on as if they are all on the front page, when, in actuality, they are not. When I clicked on Arab News this morning and saw this, "Abuse pushes maids to end their lives," I thought, "Gee that is on the front page?" Well, of course it isn't. It is on page four, just barely noticeable next to the quarter-page size advertisement for some local magazine. Abuse of maids? Why bother even mentioning it?

"Housemaids are [sic] claiming violence and mistreatment are the main reasons why many of them try to end their lives." No. Really? Because when they move to a foreign country to try to make a living for themselves and to support the families that they left behind, they actually thought they would be working normal hours and get paid and treated like a respected employee? Phooey on that. Make them work around the clock, allowing them only two or three hours of sleep. Oh, and make sure that the refrigerator you've purchased has a lock on it. They all do, here. Seriously. Go to any appliance store and find a refrigerator or a freezer without a lock on it. Just try. Salma, an Indonesian housemaid said, "I worked in a house where the sponsors used to feed us one meal a day and lock the fridge later to make sure we didn't eat anything else." The article reports, "In the last couple of years there have been countless reports of abuse in the media, including testimonies from maids about the withholding of salaries, verbal or physical abuse and restrictions on their movements." Last couple of years? We've been here seven years. Seven isn't normally considered just a "couple." "Couple," means two - three, pushing it - but then you are into "few."

Interestingly enough, while we were enjoying cold beverages on the patio of a restaurant in Kuta, Bali, our waitress, Maggie, struck up a conversation from us, starting with "Where are you from?" It went on from there. She asked my husband what he did for work and some of the usual questions one might expect from someone when you are meeting foreigners. Bali does not get an abundance of American visitors. Many from Australia, quite a few from Europe and a lot from Japan and China. Not Americans, though. She asked us how long our flight was and we explained that we had actually flown from Saudi Arabia where we live. "Oooh. Saudi Arabia. I have heard stories about Saudi Arabia. They torture the workers there." Well, no, not really, Maggie. They do not torture all of their workers. Just some. Mostly the maids. You are better off working at this restaurant and working on your farm with your 3,000 chickens. So, you see? These women know about the conditions and the plight of foreign maids here. Yet, they are often left with little choice than but try to make a living regardless of the conditions, elsewhere, such as working as housemaids in The Sandbox. It was an interesting conversation.

In the article, there is reference to an article which was published on February 27th about an Indonesian maid taken to the hopsital "when she fell from the third floor of her sponsor's building." Fell? Jumped! [If I could find it, I'd link it.] "The doctors later found that the maid had been beaten up and tortured and found burns and lashing marks on her back." [Oops. Sorry, Maggie, you are right. Tortured.]

A man [game: guess the nationality] has been exiled from Riyadh and sentenced to 100 lashes after having an affair. Exiled? You may go anywhere in the country, but stay out of Riyadh! Yeah. That ought to really punish him. And 100 lashes. Apparently a father complained "that the man had seduced his daughter, taken her to an apartment and slept with her." Removal from Riyadh and 100 lashes. Some punishment. What if it had been someone else?

Two items that I cannot find at Arab News on-line site from today's paper...

An 70-something-year-old man was not allowed to divorce his 18-year-old wife. Why? He couldn't remember her name. I'd say that was some marriage!

I do have a happy "feel good" story to share about marriage in The Sandbox, though, about a young couple we met on the plane on our way to Bali. During the first leg of our journey, from Bahrain to Singapore, they were seated directly in front of us. I could tell by the young woman's actions that they were newlyweds. I could just tell! Again, when we got on the plane from Singapore to Bali, they were seated directly in front of us. The young woman had changed her head-covering from black to white, though. So, I asked them if they had just gotten married and were going on their honeymoon. The young woman, Meer, positively beamed and smiled from ear-to-ear. Her new husband, Dammah, smiled. We chatted. I asked them if I could take their picture, and they allowed me to do so on the condition that it not be published or publicy shared, anywhere. I will not post the picture of them as the couple, or of the one I took of Meer. I have to tell you, though, that the exhubrance that was absolutely radiating from Meer was heart-warming. She allowed me to ask some very personal questions about their relationship and about marriage ceremonies, here. Meer's responses were incredibly candid and honest. That conversation - and those questions and answers - will remain private, as well. I so wish I could share the huge beaming smile of this young woman! It is important to realize that not all marriages that take place on this side of the world are those that are sure to end in unhappiness like that of an 18-year-old being married to someone old enough to be her grandfather. DH and I have just celebrated our eighteenth anniversary. I wished Meer and Dammah as many - no, even more - happy years as DH and I have had.

Something else on the back page of today's paper is a picture of two new fashions from a fashion show in Jeddah on Thursday. Something's missing, though. The woman's head is not covered! Have to give the two designers credit for trying to come up with new ways to design the traditional thobe and abeyah. Oooh. A green thobe. With a capelet attached. Interesting. The abeyah is actually kind of nice. To foo-foo for me, and awfully, awfully low cut for this part of the Middle East. That is a lot of neck showing there!

Not missed on the back page of the paper, however, is this. A quick little blurb about how the much despised woman known as Sarah Palin grabbed bundles of swag from a gift suite at an Oscar's festivity of some sort. No matter that it is all a lie and that the woman, Melissa Lemer, running that particular gift suite has demanded a retraction. The article is from the AP and the AP would rather shrivel up and disband than to ever issue an apology to Sarah Palin or offer a retraction! Expect that in 4, 3, 2, 1, never.

My oh my oh my. Back to reality.

That's for sure. The beautiful crystal blue clear skies with white fluffy clouds are behind us. Dust. The sky here in the Sandbox is full of dust dirt. And there is no one to pick up after us. From having someone come to our villa at whatever time we chose every day to make breakfast for us, serve us, clean up afterward, to having a housekeeping crew come in and make the bed and pick up our towels. Done. Over.

This morning DH made breakfast before he went to play golf. I wandered into the kitchen right after he left and just went, "Oh my. Who is going to clean this mess up?" Ditto for when I got out of the shower and realized the bed was still unmade. Hmmph. Someone has to do it. Guess that someone is me! Have spent most of the day doing laundry. Several more loads, then it is all done. Not complaining about having to do any of this, mind you. These are the things I do every day - along with most everyone else. Make breakfast, do the dishes, make the bed, do laundry, etc., etc., etc. [Yes. I do have Inom - Inam? - to assist me a great deal by doing the stuff I choose not to. That too will end someday when we return to the States. Not quite as politically correct there to have a houseboy, anymore. Such is life.]

We stayed at a little group of fabulous villas, Kunja Villas, in Seminyak. A nice beach town. Our villa was probably a ten minute walk from the beach. The beach was nice. Didn't spend more than just a few days there with so much else to see and do. The area where you park to actually get to the beach is not an area where you can spend time on the beach. That portion of the beach is restricted solely for ceremonies [and I presume from the ceremonies we saw being carried out it is restricted solely for Hindu ceremonies]. It was quite a "beach walk" to get to areas where you could rent lounge chairs and buy cold beverages. Bintang. Indonesia's Favorite Beer. Indonesia's ONLY beer. I am not much of a beer drinker - had a sip or two of DH's and that is it. Plus, with the full humidity [85%] and the absolute necessity for putting sun screen on, any sand you come into contact with absolutely clings to you. There is no brushing it off. We did find several outdoor restaurants bars where we spent afternoons sipping Mojito's and Bintang, though. So, although we only spent a couple of days on the actual sand beach, we had ample opportunity to enjoy viewing the beach from the seats of comfy chairs.

The usual and customary hawkers for tourists were on the beaches in abundance! Buy a hat, buy sunglasses, buy a kite, buy a leather belt, buy a t-shirt, buy a sarong, buy a bra. Yes! One woman was selling bras. On the beach. Other women were offering massages, and manicures and pedicures. All I could think with the women offering the massages was, "Sure. I am covered with sand and sweat and sunscreen [that's a pretty picture, isn't it?]. And you want to rub - with some pressure applied - the sand directly into my skin?! I'll pass, thankyouverymuch." When offered a pedicure or manicure, the fact that these women were carrying around their little tools with which to provide these services and no water with which to clean or any other way to sterilize the nippers and files - ahh, yeah. I'm gonna pass on that, too. One of the kites for sale:

For the most part all of the hawkers were very nice, and hey, they are only trying to make a living. [When we were in certain areas, the hawkers were more aggressive and pushy than at other areas.] More than once when the hawkers found out we were from America they said, "Oh, good president, there." Oops. You just blew it! I wasn't planning on buying sunglasses or a hat or a belt from you - but you just brought politics into the equation so purchasing anything from you is out of the question, now. You are tough out of luck. When another said, "president obama is very good," DH said, "Don't go there." DH knows. I set the guy straight and told him that the jugearedjackass is a horrible, horrible president and that many Americans hate him. The man just looked at me with total bewilderment and finally trotted off.

Have to tell you that the private pool we had at our villa was just so nice that I preferred that to the beach and spent more time there. It was the most perfect pool I have ever had the opportunity to use. I took plenty of pictures so that when we finally build our retirement home in the States [or Bali!] we can do something very similar.

The outdoor area - partially - of our villa [missing the dining area and the couch - which I actually have a photo of - it was interesting - but DH is sitting on it and that has been a rule since I started this blog - no identifiable photos of DH]:

Still do not quite understand the concept of the indoor/outdoor bathroom. Sure it looks kind of pretty and all, but with it so much outdoors there is no air conditioning and thus it is impossible to dry off from a shower or even try to get ready - doing your hair, or make-up - in the bathroom. The half tile, half stone floor? Will never understand that except that you can hose it down to clean it, maybe? Or that it just looks nice? To some, I guess. The concept escapes me.

We didn't get to our villa until sometime after 8:30 on the night we got to Bali. It was probably closer to nine. We were both tired and pretty much ready for a good night's sleep at that point. We went to bed. I woke up the first morning there with my back in so much pain from such a hard mattress that I was almost in tears. I knew there was just no way I was going to be able to endure three full weeks sleeping on such a hard mattress. [Americans are incredibly spoiled insofar as comforts. Our own bed is a king-sized with a box spring and one of those 15 or 17 inch "pillow top" mattresses.] I called the front desk that morning and said, "We have got to do something about the bed. It is too hard to sleep on." Three men immediately came to our villa to check it out. "The bed? What is wrong?" It is too hard. "The bed is too hard?" Yes. My back hurts. Can we put something on top of the mattress to make it not so hard? Like another mattress or two? They ended up trying to fix the problem by putting five or six comforters on top of the mattress and then explained that they were not going to be able to tuck into the sheets like they are supposed to. You know what? I don't care that the sheets cannot be tucked in. I do care that I cannot sleep on this mattress. Oh, and the pillows are nothing to write home about either. "What is wrong with the pillows, Madam?" They are hard. They are not feather pillows. "Only kind of pillows, Madam." Well okay, then. I will deal with the pillows. I was sure that if I complained any longer about the pillows that someone would be out collecting ducks and making different pillows for me, immediately, and I didn't want that. I decided to deal with hard fiber-fill pillows since the mattress had been kindof sortof fixed. More about the sleeping experience in a different post...

Lizard central in the evening when the lights were on. They don't bother me at all. And, they did such a wonderful job of gobbling up all the bugs, what is not to like about geckos? All I could think was how The Boy would be in his glory and would never leave the outdoor cooking/kitchen area of our villa if he was there. He, is, after all, the Great Tan Lizard Hunter.

So many things to tell about our Bali experience... I'm rambling at this point. I'm tired. Tomorrow, more beach. Some random photos and petrol stations. Still have lots and lots to share! Temples. Local culture. Interesting signs. Monkeys and tigers no bears. Oh My.

Bali Street Dogs

There is an organization called Bali Street Dogs. And there are a couple animal welfare societies, BAWA being one of them. Thankfully. Truly this was the most upsetting part of our visit. Just broke my heart to see so many of them. It was more than just upsetting and heart-breaking. It was disturbing.. Yeah, I was that "crazy" American woman that carried around a bag of dog food - along with whatever other actual food I could get my hands on every day and left it for the dogs. There is, according to our Bali "rep," a big problem with rabies to go along with the ever increasing and never-ending population of these poor dogs.

Interesting thing about these dogs, most of them turned down the dog food I was leaving. Why? According to our guide, they are not used to eating dog food. They eat people food. Mostly rice. All were more than happy to eat the meat I would leave - steak scraps, pork sate, ham... And the cheese and crackers. Along with rolls and bread.

I left a pile of crackers and a big pile of dog food for these two:

They ran off though, before I could tell whether or not they were much interested.

Fortunately there is a percentage of these "street dogs" that do belong to people. From what I understand the dogs go home at night, then in the day, they are free to roam at will. Safe? Hardly with the traffic. Again, our "rep" explained to me that every day as these dogs try to cross busy streets, "Splat!." They are hit by cars. That they are someone's pet, that is allowed to be injured or killed when it could be so preventable... Hardly much comfort.

I did not click on the "see photos" at the Bali Street Dogs site. If someone does go through the photo gallery there, let me know if I would be able to handle it. I had a hard enough time seeing up close and personal so many bone thin and obviously sick dogs. I will have those images forever etched into my memory. I took very few photos of these dogs. Not because I didn't want to - I should have taken more pictures! I had a very difficult time - the whole three weeks we were there - with the sadness of it all and sometimes instead of taking a photo where I had ample opportunity, I was more concerned with getting the dog food out or leaving whatever leftovers I was carrying. Often they were viewed as we were sitting in cafes and restaurants and would scurry off before I could get the camera on. Or, else, we were in a moving car and had passed out of their sight. As we were doing endless walking, I did have many photo opportunities. I rather regret that I didn't take more pictures to make their plight known.

I have contacted one organization about setting up some sort of way to do donations through my site. When I have something figured out I will do something to offer incentive to my few readers to donate and will put something from The Sandbox up as a reward - I have a few things in mind. I don't know, special tote bags from over here, or carved camels, or something.

Bali

Just got home from three fabulous weeks in Bali. It really is a wonderful island for a vacation. Or retire there? Took a gazillion pictures. I'll start posting them tomorrow. Today? Spend time with the Kids and unpack.

Profiling. Okay for some. Not for others.

Imagine if US airlines said they were going to start using "physical features and the way they speak" to profile certain groups. The outrage would be explosive. Any outrage that Dubai will start doing just that - using "physical features and the way they speak" - to keep a certain nationality out of their country? Nope. And there won't be any, either. The link is here: http://arabnews.com/middleeast/article24752.ece.

A report of a child who was severely beaten by his father - beaten so badly that he spent 14 days in the hospital - who, apparently was tortured by his dad for NOT confessing to being xesually abused. What the?!? Did I just read that correctly? Link: http://www.saudigazette.com.sa/index.cfm?method=home.regcon&contentID=2010030265011. Where is the little boy's mother? Somewhere else. She is a "foreigner" and she has divorced the boy's father. Rules in the Sandbox say the children go with the father under such circumstances. The boy is in the custody of his aunt who says that a "social protection house would be the best home for the child." Umm, how about reconsidering and letting the child go to the home of his mother. Is that an option? It should be. The father has been detained by authorities and "should not take custody of the boy until he is examined for mental health." Gee. 'Ya think?

Is $6.11 too much to pay for olives?

How much are olives from the deli in the States, now? Is $6.11 too much to pay? For Greek olives stuffed with fetta cheese. A container three-quarters filled the size of a cottage cheese container. Is that a lot? They sure are yummy. But I don't know if they are $6.11 yummy. For olives! And, yes. Of course I took a picture of the price tag and the olives. I am just too technically challenged to post that picture on this laptop. [The small keyboard and my long nails just do not do well together. I feel as though I've done well to do what I've done so far on this little teeny, tiny laptop ten pound relic of a computer. Regular desk top that I can use. That is what I need. Then I will post the pictures. The one of the olives. And, the one that says "Do not put clothing in the toilet." Wednesday or Thursday. In shallah.*]


*In shallah. The term that everyone uses in the Sandbox. It means, loosely, "God willing." "Can I get a cup of coffee, please?" "In shallah." If you search my archives, you will find out how I feel about "in shallah." Do NOT use that with me. I know exactly what it means!

Gatorade

If Gatorade is looking for someone new to advertise for them, I know a tall blonde very, very handsome golfer that is available. He probably doesn't play quite as well as Tiger does, but pretty darn close! He has a low handicap and he drinks plenty of Gatorade on the course. That should seal it for us.

Do I care about the whole TW thing? Honestly, I don't. I do, however, feel very sorry for his wife who I think he has humiliated beyond belief with his boinking anyone who had a pulse. I feel bad for his children who are someday going to understand what happened. Elin chooses to stay with him? Her choice. I know if it were my DH that did something like that I would have already had divorce papers drawn up. Is what Tiger did any different than a culture that allows ONE man to have FOUR - or sometimes SIX - wives? No. Not really. To each his own, though. As for me? Call me selfish. I just cannot see sharing MY DH with anyone else. THAT is NOT going to happen.

Anyway... Just throwing it out there for Gatorade.

There is a sign...

In a ladies room that reads: "Do not put clothing or other items in the toilet." What?! Really?? Has it been a problem in the past? What kind of items were you finding in the toilet? Clothing. Were women actually putting clothing in the toilet? I know - laundry. Someone was using it for laundry.

Yes. Of COURSE I took a picture. I'll post the picture as soon as I am reconnected with the behemoth desk top - Wednesday or Thursday. Unless I can find a child to help me do it on this - the laptop.

Do not put clothing in the toilet. Well, okay, then. I won't. Not now. Not now, anyway, since I've seen the sign and been instructed not to do so.

Just a Dead Maid

Nothing to see, here, folks. Move along. Just another dead maid. One who tried to flee from her sponsor - the family that recruited her - and didn't quite make the two-story jump. Go here to read the one-paragraph article: http://arabnews.com/saudiarabia/article21635.ece?comments=all#comments. Read the comments. Speaks volumes...

Still Not Pretty.

The laptop almost got dropped. DH's laptop is almost ten years old. Working with a prehistoric model, here. It is heavier than it looks. And I went to move it and almost dropped it on the tile floor. Would it have survived such a fall? Dunno. Probably. It is that heavy. The tile wouldn't have survived.

Coffee. Better from a regular coffee maker or a French press? I learned how to use a French press this week. I've seen them. Have a couple of friends who swear that coffee is better with them than in a regular coffee maker. The jury is still out on this one as far as I am concerned. Actually I think I like the coffee from the coffee maker, better. There. Guess the jury isn't still out on that one. Any thoughts?

In local news.

A maid has been sentenced to a year in jail and 200 lashes for mixing urine in the food of the family she worked for. Sure there is the "eewwww" and "gross" factor in that. Disgusting. Notwithsanding the "eewwww" and "gross," I cannot help but think about what went through her mind - the maid's - that she justified doing what she did in response to the treatment she received from the family she was working for. Doubtful the poor little maid just woke up one morning and said, "I know what I'm going to do to get back at these folks. I'll pee in their food." No. She had to have endured quite a bit, I would think, that made her decide to do what she did. Link: http://arabnews.com/saudiarabia/article20781.ece

Saudi women working as maids in Qatar? Umm hmm. Didn't think so. Not a chance of it ever happening. Some Saudi women are upset about the rumor, though, thinking that it is simply a way to humiliate them and spread rumors. Not to worry. I think we all know that Saudi women HIRE maids, they don't WORK as maids. Link: http://arabnews.com/saudiarabia/article21030.ece

Just buy your underwear somewhere else. Bahrain. London. The States. Victoria's Secret delivers internationally. So does J.C. Penney. Skip going to the lingerie stores in the Sandbox. Perhaps when the business dries up and completely fails then authorities can get it together and fix the problem. It has been an issue for as long as we've been here and I would venture to guess it was an issue long before we arrived. Link: http://arabnews.com/saudiarabia/article20118.ece

Yeah. There is more. I just can't stand this laptop! To all of you out there who just luv yours, more power to you. A daily struggle for me right now to type on this thing. To cut and paste and copy? Still can't figure it out. Longing for my behemoth desk top model! Soon. Then things will be back to normal and I can post the new pictures I have. Cannot even attempt THAT with this computer. No way. Not a chance. Unless I can find a teenager or 10-year-old that would be willing to come and help me. Technically challenged? That is an understatement.

News. Not posted very "prettily."

"Prettily." That is a word, isn't it?



Let's just see how this will work. I can assure you it won't be pretty. But I'm going for it.



One thing in the news this past week: A man has been sentenced to 120 lashes for having more than his fair share of allotted wives. Men are allowed four. He had six. See here: http://arabnews.com/saudiarabia/article18508.ece. [I told you this would not be pretty. Trying to post on a lap top. Arrgh!] Without getting into what position he held working as an employee of the Commission for the Promotion of Virtue and Prevention of Vice, he still should have known that he was only entitled to FOUR wives even if he only had an elementary school education. Will he now have to eliminate two of his six wives? Three of them are illegal. So that should help him decide which to choose. Ahh, true love. Isn't it grand? Read the comments at the story if for nothing more than amusement. Six wives. How do you even do that? Each woman gets to spend one night a week with you and one of them gets lucky enough for two nights a week? This whole practice of more than one wife is just something I will never be able to understand. Sharing a husband with another woman - or with several women. Nope. I won't be able to get past the "uggh" and "how disgusting" factor of it. To each his own I guess...



Another happening was a Saudi prince who murdered his aide in a London hotel room. Since it didn't happen in the Sandbox it likely won't be swept under the rug as easily as it could or would have been, here. The story is here: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/crime/7266876/Saudi-Prince-charged-with-murdering-his-aide-at-London-Landmark-hotel.html.



[Yes, I tried to do "links" in the usual manner but they didn't work.]



Seems like there was something else. Ah! The United Airlines plane that was forced to make an emergency landing in Salt Lake City a few days ago. Virtually nothing about this in the news or by bloggers. Saw it first on Fox. Figured for sure it would be all over blogs the next day. Didn't see it on any of the blogs I visited, though. Are we going to be given more information? Did authorities figure out who the note came from? Was it from one of the passengers? A disgruntled employee [you'd have to be really, really disgruntled to pull such a stunt!]? Perhaps this wasn't really "news" because it was just slightly over-shadowed by the man who flew his plane into the IRS building in Texas. You have to admire the man if for nothing more than his conviction. The United Airlines "news" is here: http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,586602,00.html.



Yeah, there is lots more going on. But this is painful. Using a laptop for a very unpretty post. I gave it a good try. Will be reconnected with the desktop that I can use, soon.

Computer Issues

Have to use a laptop right now. Big problem for me. I know many absolutely luv their laptops. I can barely type on it. Posting has been slow to non-existent and will be until I am reconnected with my big desk top... I really, really struggle with the laptop... I am seriously technically challenged. Cannot even figure out how to use my new IPod. Will take it to the states with me next month so that one of my little nine-year-old nephews can show me how to download Rush. How sad is that?!!

Baby Stuff

Baby shopping. Mall of Dhahran has some great baby stores! Cute, cute stuff. Cannot wait for my little Granddaughter to be born. Grandson? Don't know yet. Shopping in "neutral" until we know for sure. Blue and tan can be neutral. So, can brown.

Is the sweatshirt with the airplanes on it not the cutest little sweatshirt you've ever laid your eyes on? [The Baby's Grandfather is a pilot, after all...] If the baby is a Girl, I can picture a yellow and white dress underneath this sweatshirt with navy shoes. If the baby is a Boy, jeans, with little hiking boots.

Adorable. Adorable! A little baby bathrobe. With a matching towel.


And the tags. "Keep away from fire." Seriously?!? I mean, was that a problem? Someone held their baby too close to a fire and now all baby clothing has to come with a tag that warns people?

Oh my gosh. This is going to be sooo much fun! I can hardly wait for September 9th.

For The Kids

All that meat I cooked a week or so ago? Two days in the kitchen. 70 pounds of beef. 52 pounds of chicken. Exhaust fan on high - for the entire process - because it smells so dayum awful [especially for someone who doesn't eat either beef or poultry!].


Two showers a day are required during operation "meat cooking." Not complaining [well, okay, maybe a little bit I am], because it is for The Kids.

Are they not just two or the most adorable four-legged children you have ever laid your eyes on! Yeah. I'm just a tad biased...

The meat, raw, beef and chicken:

Chicken thawing in the sink:

Seven packages of the beef, at a time, in the pan.

I can only cook four packages of chicken in the small pan.

There is a lot - A LOT - of fat in the beef.

None in the chicken.

Oh, but it is all halal* so that makes it okay.

Cooked. Measured and bagged. Frozen. An entire freezer full. Ready for mixing with food from The Honest Kitchen for the next three months.


*halal - where animals are slaughtered in a most barbaric, but specific way, by first man-handling the animal into a head lock before its little throat is slit [almost enough to make me want to force The Kids to be vegetarian, too]