Well, day 45 - half way through the first 90 days. The question is, are we half way up the mountain, or at the top - is it all downhill (in a good way) from now on? I suspect there will be many more hilly bits, but maybe the worst is over. Fingers crossed.
I'm thinking, once I get to Day 90, I might start another blog called The Art of Living in Kuwait, or something - where I try to gather information and tips on how to live well in Kuwait. What do you think?
So, anyway, it's Saturday night - getting ready for school tomorrow! Lenny and Michael are already snoring away and I'm preparing for another (quiet) night on the couch in the living room. I think I mentioned that we had the engineers here to look at the noisy air conditioning problem - they have come up with a solution, so we just have run it by the landlord. Until then, I'll be on the couch. Actually, the weather is changing dramatically - it is actually cool in the mornings and evenings, and people seem to be using the air con a bit less - but the buzz goes off and on, and is driving me (literally, I fear) a bit crazy. Anyone interested in this issue can check out the engineers report.
Here is some interesting news about Kuwait. A bit too interesting, possibly.
I have just tried my first shisha at the club - a mint/apple flavour. I like it, though it's been a long time since I've smoked anything, so my style was a little - I dunno - wimpy, I guess. I'm going to buy shisha pipes for our balcony, mainly because I like the smell of the charcoals!
Yesterday (Friday) we went to a new mall - it is called 360 degrees, and is smaller, woodier, grander looking and full of impossibly expensive clothing and accessory shoppes. We went to see Johnny English Reborn in the VIP cinema. Definitely no back row necking in this cinema - the seats were huge, and about 4 feet apart, so you'd be stretching even to hold hands during the scary bits. But they did recline nicely, and it would be a lovely place for an afternoon nap. Actually, I did have a wee nap, which doesn't say much about the movie. Johnny English Don't Bother, it should be called.
The BIG news is that our Singapore shipment has arrived in Kuwait, finally, and should turn up at the house sometime this week. So that should keep me busy, going through a fair bit of crap, plus some nice pieces of furniture to fill up the house. I'm especially looking forward to unwrapping the antique Chinese cabinet I bought at the auction in Singapore, as well as a beautiful ancestor painting that will look lovely on the green walls ( let's hope it survived the trip intact.) Also, the day beds will be nice on our balcony. Here is a picture of how I want it to look.
And here is our balcony now.
Hi Janet- love the idea of the shaded in bouider-esque balcony! We've been away to Broke - the west end of the Hunter Valley at a friend's vineyard, where, i am sure you can guess,i am writing a series of poems about there place.
On the Balmoral poem front,I've surprised myself how many I've got but I ;ve pasted in two below, the fairy penguin is such a local hero! lots of love
cj x
Sun Protection Factors
A Greek woman rolls in sand
a beached lamington
In the water, a chubby dad, wears a fluro floatie Zogg
ring on his head, as an eye shade
Lady, sixties, sits chiffon top under a pink umbrella
A woman wears white sunnies and a blue Diesel peak cap
Four-year old in long sleeved rashie
Me in slice of fig tree shade
(the Sand Lamington woman rolls over )
a bloke, pale blue singlet and boardies, weights his blue umbrella
down, corded to the ground with plastic bags of sand
(I retreat entirely into leaf templated sand)
a man hugs to cover up, with his body, a water chilled pale infant
Gold sandals and three coffees make the beach slow going
for paisley print caftaned beauty.
A fellow in shorts adjusts himself between his towel
and the tide line, he has worked on his terse torso
As does the sand, the sea, the corso.
Hunting Fish
At the baths’ rail, for thirty seconds,
a fairy penguin lends me her hunting body.
The way she dizzies mullet
into a tight and tighter spiral,
her fast fillip to the surface,
means I snatch a breath,
I swim faster, spiral tighter,
play the net,
hear the water scissor past,
move by thinking,
weaving under, over
half-spin correction, propelled by finning,
winging mullet towards the shade
that baulks, so our swift, corralling
swoop completes, in the biting satisfaction
-taste of warm blood, teeth into a mullet’s belly.
Posted by: Carol | Sunday, 23 October 2011 at 01:58 PM