Every Monkey Gets His Turn in The Barrel
AdventureMan and I have this phrase, and I cannot imagine where it came from (from where it came, for you grammar sticklers!) “Every Monkey gets his turn in the barrel.” It’s particularly true in the workplace, or at least almost every workplace where I have worked – it’s like the stock market, sometimes your stock is high, sometimes your stock can fall, and often, it is not so much your performance as the PERCEPTION of your performance.
Often, in the work place, stocks rise and fall based on little or nothing at all. In fact, if you are really really good at what you do, you are sometimes more at risk, because those who are less accomplished always need to focus the attention anywhere but on their own work, and if you are doing well, they will often find something to criticize to keep their own lackluster accomplishments from coming into focus.
But every monkey getting his/her turn in the barrel applies in almost all factors of life. Sometimes you’re up. Sometimes you’re down. Sometimes it has nothing to do with you, it’s just the way things are.
So my trip home was sort of my turn in the barrel. I was a little late getting to the airport, which was not crowded, but there was a long back-up going through passport control to get to the departure gates. They had plenty of staff, but for some reason, they were SO SLOW. When I got to the front, the woman ‘taking care’ of me was busy texting! I asked if the computers were slow today – honestly, she had already stamped my passport, she was just killing time – and she said “No, why?” as if she were unaware of all the people standing in line, waiting to get through.
When I got to Dubai, I had to do this 2 km run from the gate where Emirates comes in to the Delta check-in counter. I always think of it as good exercise, but the humidity in Dubai is particularly high, or else the air conditioning is going out, and at the end of the trek, I am almost soaked with sweat and thinking ‘OMG I need a shower.’ I went to the lounge, but there was a sign “opening at 2100 hours’ and it was 15 minutes after nine. I could see someone in there, but later she stuck her head out and said she couldn’t let anyone in until the ‘attendants’ came, which they did, about 15 minutes later – they had been shopping!
And then I discovered that I had to go to the Air France lounge, not nice at all, near the smoking station so even inside the Air France lounge it smells stale and smokey. I am spoiled. I love the Emirates lounge in Dubai, where they even have tiny small containers of Haggan Daaz ice cream for their clients. 😉 This lounge was filled with American contractors. Yes, we are also American contractors, but this was the other kind – great big fat loud-voiced men, bragging about their salaries and demeaning their wives. I couldn’t wait to get out of there, which I did quickly after checking my e-mails.
The flight from Dubai to Atlanta is just long – more than 15 hours – and started inauspiciously. As we took off, as the plane’s nose lifted, some cupboard fell open and we could hear china and cutlery falling and breaking, a lot of it. I felt so sorry for the flight attendants; they have a lot to do during those flights, and now it was complicated by a disaster at the beginning of the flight. I got through it, mostly by escaping into sleep.
As we arrived in Atlanta, everything had changed. I just did this trip six weeks ago, but there is a new traffic pattern, a longer trek, sterner instructions about how and where to get into line. My bags, marked “priority’, were, as often is the case, nearly the last off the plane, and I trundled them through customs, and then had to run (honestly, this is like a herd of cattle) to get into another long, snaking line to go through security again – this time in Atlanta, where you have to take off your shoes, take out computers, can only use a 1 quart zippering plastic bag, etc.
I had thought I had plenty of time, but a large troop flight came in from Afghanistan, and we all had to move aside to give them priority. That is the one inconvenience I did not mind at all – I am so proud everyone moved over with no grumbling and let our servicepeople through, to get them on their way for R&R.
Security found me very interesting, and this is my own fault. I have a little Waterford crystal sugar jar that I took with me. I’ve had it since the early years of our marriage, and I often hand carry it to the next post. It’s too bad that lead crystal goes opaque in the scanners, and that the shape was a little like that of a hand grenade. I also had my wireless router with me, and this led to a long, long, very long inspection of everything I was carrying.
As I griped later to my son, he said “And I am sure it never occurred to you that you were arriving from the Middle East on a one-way ticket.”
LLLLLOOOOLLLL @ me. Nope. It had never occurred to me. I guess I was thinking about other things – farewells, clearing out the house, packing, mortgage papers, insurance papers, TAXES (Oh aaaAAARRRGGHHH, yes we have an extension, but we still have to get them done!)
So this trip, I was the monkey. I rolled around in that barrel. Actually, because I had no real agenda, other than be in P’cola by Monday to close on a house, I could roll with it and figure that I have had so many breaks, so many times, that if I needed to take this roll in the barrel, so be it, God is good and needed to give the breaks to that old guy in the wheel chair and that family with two kids in strollers, and all those fine young people who serve our country in strange and alien lands . . .
And, at the end of my journey is my son, his wife, and our grandson, and a sweet, relaxed day with them, doing not much but catching up. 🙂 The real chaos starts this coming week, early on Monday morning. Think I’d better get to church, get some fortification for the demands of this coming week.
My Life in Boxes
Or what my life looks like right now . . . feels like just yesterday I was packing boxes, unpacking boxes, and here we go again . . . .
The quilt room, all packed up now . . .
Doha – Pensacola – Doha
I was always a KLM frequent flyer, when my destination was Seattle, the Amsterdam – Seattle direct flight was the least hassle from Kuwait. From Doha, however, there is an annoying stop in Dammam. a ghostly airport in Saudi Arabia, where all the men who have been working on the oil rigs and in isolated locations get on. Some families also board, but most of the passengers are men who like to drink and talk talk talk in loud voices when the rest of us just want to sleep en route to Amsterdam.
Now that we are flying to Pensacola, we could still go KLM, but one time when KLM cancelled my flight and didn’t tell me, they put me on an Emirates flight out of Kuwait around six at night that got me to Dubai in about an hour, and then put me on a Delta flight that landed early the next morning, not in Amsterdam, but in Atlanta. In another couple hours I was in Pensacola.
Hmmm. Let’s see – 23 hours of flying plus seemingly endless layovers in airport lounges and an additional annoyance factor of the landing in Dammam, OR a short flight + a very long walk in the new Dubai airport to the next terminal + checking in again because the airlines are not partners (bags are checked all the way through, though, so it is only a ticketing issue) and then a very very long flight that gets you there the next morning . . . I’ll opt for the long flight. Now that Delta and KLM are partners, all my miles still count.
Downside. It is a very long flight. There are also a lot of women and children on board, and the first time, I sat next to a little boy who threw up. I felt really sorry for the little boy and his Mom, and I was nice about it, but the smell of throw up makes me feel very much like throwing up. Memorable flight.
This time, because we needed to accomplish a lot in a hurry and needed to be at our best from the moment we arrived, we went business class. Wooo HOOO. I love the Business Class on this flight. All the things that matter to me – Privacy . . . Comfortable Sleeping . . . Quiet cabin . . . relatively clean restrooms . . .
This is what the sleeping pod looks like:
En route back to Doha from Pensacola, when I got to the departure terminal, there was an extra delight – a live pianist in the food mall. I don’t know if this is a paid pianist or a volunteer but she was GOOD! She was also enthusiastic and lively, and played a bunch of old Beatle’s songs. It brightened up what might have been a dull time.
After all that Grandmama-ing and house buying, I was exhausted, and I really slept a lot all the way home. I am paying for it now. I have never had jet lag so extreme or so long. Almost a week later, I am still unable to sleep through the night, falling asleep at weird times, like 8 p.m. and waking up around 2 in the morning. Aarrgh.
Other than that, my life is very dull right now. Packing boxes. Toting things I won’t need – 220v appliances, for example – to people that might need them. Packing more boxes, clearing out cupboards, trying to figure out what I need to keep and what I can freely freely give. Didn’t I just do this? Like yesterday? Leaving Kuwait for Doha?
Some nights I cook, some nights we go out to old favorite restaurants we want to hit one more time – The Majlis. The Little Sailor. The Beirut. Beijing. Royal Tandoor. Places we know we will miss when we are living in Pensacola. Trying to figure out what to take with me in suitcases, what to ship in our limited air cargo, and what I can live without for three months (!)
Of course, the carrot on the end of this long stick is living near our son and his bride and our little grandson. 🙂 Makes it all worthwhile.
Some ‘adventures’ are more irksome than others. This moving stuff is getting old. For those of you who are asking in the background, yes, the Qatteri cat goes with us. He is a member of our family!
Oh! Didn’t It Rain!
I love it that this YouTube version of Mahalia Jackson’s rendition of “Oh Didn’t It Rain!” starts out with photos in Wadi Rum in Jordan, a couple peeks at Petra, and as the camera backs off, the effects of wind and rain on the topography of the Wadi Rum area. We camped there for three nights, lo, these many years ago, going on camelback into the deeper parts of the canyon. It was unforgettable.
My trip back into Doha last night was unforgettable.
In what is usually the most mundane of flights, we found ourselves bumping up and down with lightning striking all around us, from about the halfway point all the way into Doha. I’ve never had a lot of faith in the aerodynamics that keeps airplanes up in the air, and seeing flashes of lightning all around me was a genuinely religious experience, LOL.
(From article on lightning strikes plane in Japan: According to a Scientific American article about lightning strikes and aircraft, its is “estimated that on average, each airplane in the U.S. commercial fleet is struck lightly by lightning more than once each year”. However, the article notes that the last crash directly attributed to a lightning strike occurred back in 1967 when the fuel tank exploded.)
At the airport, all the baggage handlers actually had on rain-gear, and on the way home, there were deep pools where drains have clogged. And, as AdventureMan said, when you live at sea level, just where is the water going to drain?
I am so thankful to be home. Home for the next scant three weeks, anyway, as I pack up all those boxes once again for what we think will be (one of) our last moves. Sorting, giving away, “can I live without this if I leave it behind?” “Will I regret it forever if I leave this behind?” “Is there someone who could give this a good home?”
I have two great avenues of disposal; my own church, where incoming church personnel can make use of household goods and not have to buy everything new, and my housekeeper’s church, where they cherish anything they get.
Waterfront Mission Pensacola
LOL, this is what a mother-son outing looks like in our family. Our son volunteered to take me shopping at the Waterfront Mission, a store like Goodwill or the Salvation Army or St. Vincent de Paul, second hand stores run by churches. I love these stores (and I donate to these stores!) because I can find treasures here to make new and usable once again, and when I spend my money here, I know it will go to help the homeless, help feed the poor, help heat a house for a person without the money for electricity, etc. These are worthy organizations, providing a great service to the community.
People get rid of perfectly good, usable furniture, because they want something fresh and new. This is good news for people like me – I took a class in furniture upholstery and discovered that it is something I love doing. Tearing off the old fabric and stuffing is GREAT therapy when you are annoyed or anxious about something, and good prayer time, too. Putting it all back together is just good fun. Many times there are pieces of wood that need to be stripped and/or refinished; at least in the pieces I like to renovate.
Wait! I’ll show you some of the potential treasures I found! I didn’t buy anything; haven’t got the house yet, but this field trip gave me inspiration for the future:
See what I mean? These pieces have potential!
For AdventureMan:
Here is a detail – how cool is that?
If you want your own massage table:
Someone spray painted this daybed a verdigris sort of green. It could be rescued, but it would be a lot of trouble . . .
For your outdoor patio, there are two marble topped tables:
And for my collector friends, a real treasure – a SINGER treadle!
There were exquisite wedding dresses for sale – makes you wonder what happened to the marriage, that a bride would part with her wedding dress. Most of these are custom made; they are available at prices that would make them worth buying just to re-use the fabrics in a quilt or cushion or Christmas stocking:
There are things I would never buy used – like a mattress. But many pieces of furniture from older times are 100% solid wood, and better made than some of the furniture you find in stores, even expensive stores, worth the effort to rescue and rehabilitate. And, for people like me, the rehabilitation is part of the fun. 🙂 Thanks be to God for a husband and son and daughter (in-law) who support my peculiar habits!
Bayou Sunset
You know me and water. I love the sun coming up over water. I love the sun going down over water.
On the Bayou, when the sun starts going down, the air gets all pink. I can’t even capture it with the camera. I see it, but the camera does not see it.
It has to do with a magical quality of light; I will probably be trying to capture it to my dying day.
Thanks Mom: Bread and Eggs / Pain Perdu
Sometimes when my daughter in law is nursing, she gets very hungry. So while she is feeding the baby, I spoon or fork-feed her. It is a wonderful time for me, to be able to nurture and nourish this dear woman who loves our son and bears and nurtures his child. This morning, it was Pain Perdu with little slices of cantaloupe. (I had to look up ‘cantaloupe’ twice. I had no idea spelling cantaloupe was so difficult!)
Thanks, Mom. Bread and Eggs was a big hit. (I also notice that the majority of entries under Pain Perdu look more like what we call French Toast than bread and eggs.)
When I was little, we always loved it when our Dad went away on a trip because he hated eggs, and when he left, Mom would make Bread and Eggs, something they used to make in her family to use up bread which may have gone stale and hard.
It is delicious, but you would not want to eat it often. You start by melting butter РI used about half a stick of butter Рand saut̩ing small bread cubes at a moderately high temperature. Throw in some fresh chopped parsley, or cilantro, keep stirring until the bread cubes are browned. It will smell delicious!
Meanwhile, mix four eggs with a little non-fat half and half, and when the cubes are browned, turn down the heat to moderately low and pour in the eggs. Let them cook for a good minute before you stir things around, and I even use a pancake flipper to flip entire portions while the top is still liquid, so the bread cubes get entirely encased.
Serve when fully cooked.
Change of Plans
When we were planning this trip, it all sounded so simple . . . greet the grandbaby, buy a house, quick, fly to Seattle, fly back to Pensacola, kiss the grandbaby and fly to Doha to pack.
Not quite the way it turned out. When we got here, the grandbaby was 11 days overdue. We got to be here for the birth. While our son and his wife labored, we went out with the world’s most wonderful real estate lady and actually, we did find a house.
Three years ago, we found a house. When I talked with the mortgage people, I said “We just finished paying off a mortgage with you; isn’t there some kind of short-cut you could do with me?” and they did something called “fast track” with me, and it was so easy I can’t even remember the paperwork; I think I filled it out on my computer – online – and that was it. My son handled the closing. It was so easy.
Things have really changed. This will be our third mortgage with the same company, but you would think we are potential deadbeats. We have high credit scores, an impeccable payment record – I would think they would want to have us as customers! It’s like pulling teeth. Papers don’t get to us. Additional verifications are required. Appraisers actually enter the house and verify square footage.
Between chasing paper and soothing the newborn, my life has been very full. It doesn’t sound very exciting, when I tell you about it, but here is the truth – I know I am exactly where I am supposed to be right now. It’s an amazing feeling.
Today, I spent a lot of time with the baby. At some point, I realized I wasn’t going to make it to Seattle this trip, and it’s OK. I can go to Seattle later. For right now, I have enough on my plate.
I had forgotten, too, how chaotic life with a newborn can be. His needs take precedence, and sometimes we all run around trying to guess what those needs might be, simple as they are . . . clean diaper? swaddling / soothing to sleep? Mother’s milk? Today was a really good day, where he took the diaper changes with grace, dropped right off to sleep after every meal, and was keenly alert for maybe a half hour after feeding before napping. He loves patterns and fabrics. I am having SO MUCH FUN!
A part of our life is ending, the nomadic part. AdventureMan and I have had a lot of fun, once our son got through college and law school, we were on our own again, living in Europe, living in Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and Qatar – we have had a great adventure. We travelled to Botswana, Namibia, Zambia (several times), South Africa, Kenya, Tanzania and spent a wonderful week on Mnemba Island off the coast of Zanzibar. We have wonderful friends, mostly from churches and interest groups. I would think, knowing us, that we would be sad leaving all this, but instead, we are racing toward our new future, being more settled, being near our son and his family, and his wife’s great big family. 🙂
For one thing, the world has changed. With e-mail and VOIP phones and people who jump on a plane at the drop of a hat, we expect to stay in touch with those we love and treasure. We expect they will come see us. It’s kind of fun settling in a place with white sandy beaches that everyone wants to come visit. 🙂 Cooler than Kuwait and Qatar in the summer time, too! Nice warm winters, well, not this winter, brrrrrrrrrrrr!
Thought you might want to see a photo of my little darling grandson:
Warrior Woman Does Not Buy a New Car
It’s a beautiful day in Pensacola, I had baby duty all morning, but the afternoon is mine. I’ve been wanting to buy a new car; I could buy it and have it waiting for me when I come back. I know the car I want, the model, the color, everything I want – and do not want. The only thing that holds me back is that I hate the whole car buying process. I remember Saturn – nice car, pretty colors, drove well and you walk in and there is one price, and that is the price for everyone. I don’t know what happened. They stopped making Saturns.
So first, I just decided to see if I could find the place. I found it. Then I decided to drive around the lot and see what they had. I did that. Then I decided just to walk into the lobby and see if they had anything like price sheets there, although I had already done my research online. There was a nice young man waiting outside just for me, and he took me on a test drive. Here is what is really cool. Have you ever driven a car so new that it had one mile on the odometer?
I love the car. I had one like it before. This particular car had some features I didn’t care about and don’t want to pay for.
I know what I want. I know what I want to pay. He showed me figures. I told him what I wanted and what I was willing to pay. He printed out a bunch of stuff so he could explain to me why the car he wanted to sell me was going to cost more. I told him what I wanted and what I was willing to pay for it. He had to go talk to his manager. He came back with more figures. I told him what I wanted and what I was willing to pay for it. He went to get his manager.
I told him what I wanted and what I was willing to pay for it. He said he couldn’t sell me the car at that price, so I smiled and shook everybody’s hands and thanked them for their time and I left, after more discussion. I think they were shocked I walked out. I was shocked too.
And delighted.
“But you still don’t have the car!” my son reminded me.
I know I don’t have the car. It’s OK. I have time. I don’t know if this makes sense to you, but I just feel so good! I didn’t buy a car I didn’t want! I stuck by my guns! I know what I want (and what I don’t want and don’t want to pay for) and what I am willing to pay, and I believe with all my heart I am going to find my car at my price (it’s a reasonable price.) I am so proud of myself for not being talked into buying the car I didn’t want at the price I didn’t want to pay!
Warming Up in Pensacola
This guy hurts my eyes. I remember reading a book called Almost French, an Australian woman married a French guy, and one morning as she was about to run down to the boulangerie in her sweats, her French boyfriend had a very pained expression on his face and said “Please! Please put on something else! You don’t want to hurt people’s eyes!”
Pensacola is warming. No matter how much Pensacola warms, I think a shirt would be a good idea.
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