Lost In Translation

Last week we stopped at a local shwarma place to get some take out. We pulled up in front of the restaurant and one of the "waiters" came to our car to take our order (much like the U.S. in the 50s minus the roller skates). When we tried to tell him what we wanted, he had a very confused look on his face. He smiled a lot and went to get a menu. The menu wasn't a lot of help but it was entertaining. We scratched our heads with wonder and then laughed out loud as we realized that their "Meal Speed" section (middle of the page) is their FAST FOOD section. You can see that there is a "Bice with Grilled" section too - I think they mean "Rice." The waiter finally understood what we wanted to order as we pointed. Then while we were waiting, he came over to the car again and said, "English number one, but I no speak." Then we asked him to teach us some Arabic words. I don't remember what he taught us now, but I just love the fine lines of language translation and the comedy that ensues when we attempt to bridge those language barriers. So now when I don't want to cook, I just ask Brett to order some Meal Speed and the heartburn is speedy quick on the way!

I'll Be Home For Christmas!

We will be flying home on Friday to spend Christmas in the winter wonderland of wonderful Utah. And we will be filling our home to the brim with our family, including two very excited grandsons. I think I might be more excited than they are, but we can't wait. We plan to do lots of snowman building (if the weather cooperates), lots of reading in front of the fire, lots of family bonding activities (Brett, Ben, and Jared all aspire to be the superhero you've never heard of: Puzzleman), and eating lots of ham-themed meals (bacon, sausage, pork roasts here we come).

Another bonus of the trip is that I will get my hair cut and colored, and if you have read past posts about my hair woes, you know that I only let my stylist Julie touch my hair after last spring's fiasco. So my dark roots and gray strands are VERY apparent, and pony tails are possible hair styles now because of the length. Not for long though. If I could have made an appointment with Julie on the way home from the airport, I would have.

Those Were the Days

I wrote this poem after watching a little girl standing in line with her mother at a restaurant today. She was five or six and twirled and skipped in her lightweight school uniform. Every few minutes her head would tilt up looking heavenward at her mother and her still pudgy face would beam with enamoured worship. I found tears coming to my eyes as I realized that Abbey has now moved past that wonderful age of spontaneous delight and unquestioning faith.

Paradise Lost

The bubbling, boisterous

Energy has quieted

And sits hiding helplessly

Behind the perfect pout

Or the rolled eyes of

Disdain for the inhabitant no longer

On that parent pedestal

Where three-year-olds gaze in

Awe of

Knowledge

Strength

Ability

Love and

Answers

to WHY?

Now Mommy is mute to

Ears filled with friends'

Noisy whispers of doubt,

Comparisons and complicated

Social standing.

My once bouncing, dancing, hand-holding

Daughter no longer

Holds my opinion so close,

So trusted, and her

Eyes flash in independence when

I suggest that she let her face know she's happy and

Smile.

Holes In My Hopeful Hot Air Balloon

A few weeks ago, in the middle of the night, I woke up to Brett talking to me, but making no sense. I was staring at the light fixture above our bed, wondering what was going on and why Brett's voice sounded all loud and excited. I tried to turn over. I tried to ask him what was going on. I couldn't. I had no control over normally easy tasks. Then it slowly dawned on me that I was coming out of a dangerously low insulin reaction. The light fixture remained fascinating to me for about five minutes, but slowly I could nod my head to Brett's questions, and I was understanding those questions as well. Eventually I became coherent and realized I was drenched, and I mean drenched, in sweat. My pajamas felt like I had been in the shower fully clothed. I slowly got up with Brett's help. I told him I needed to shower and change all my clothes. As I got in the shower I battled dizziness and realized that I probably should have had Brett hold me up or something. I finished rinsing off and SLOWLY got dressed. I was exhausted.

After getting dressed, I got back into bed and looked at Brett's pale, scared face. He was as worn out as I was. I asked him what had happened. He told me that he had awakened and heard me breathing with very shallow breaths. He tried to wake me, but couldn't get me to respond coherently. He ran and got orange juice and managed to get some down my throat before I spilled most of it all over the bed. He said I still had a glazed expression on my face and wouldn't respond. That's when he went for the glucagon kit. He injected me, then gave me more orange juice. I guess that is the point when I woke up looking at the light fixture. I don't remember anything before that silly light fixture.

So my disease has come to this. I have tried so hard to control the uncontrollable for so many years. I have made myself a pin cushion, spent more money than I even want to count, and spent the equivalent of months of my life in waiting rooms and with medical professionals, all to combat this diabetic assault. I always thought I would be able to laugh and scoff when I looked at the bright red glucagon kit I would get every year at the pharmacy as a precaution and then throw away after it expired. Well, this one didn't get a chance to expire. I never planned to use the thing. My doctor, the inspired man that he is, wrote the prescription this time for THREE kits. I really didn't want to pay for that many, but forgot to tell the pharmacist to only give me one. When three showed up in the huge bag of medical supplies I had to pack for Qatar, I just threw them in the luggage because they were there, never in my life thinking they would be needed.

I think fixating on that red glucagon kit and what it represents is my way of not going completely crazy thinking about what is down the road with this disease. I have always been hopeful and positive, proactive about prevention and diabetic care, but the last few years have put some holes in that hopeful hot air balloon. Those holes are mostly about letting Brett down and being so dependent. I heard him tell his mom over Skype that he didn't ever want to go out of town without me, because that would mean I would have to sleep alone, and he couldn't allow that. It is pretty humbling to have to have a babysitter at the age of 46. I'm so glad to have such a wonderfully patient one. Brett never complains about all the costs this disease has racked up, and I don't just mean the dollar costs. He is amazing, but I was the one who was supposed to be amazing by taking care of the world! I want to be the caregiver, the vigilant one. It is also humbling to realize that I am a different mother to Abbey than with Kristy and Ben, and not just because of my age.

Well, coming close to my own mortality recently has made me reflect on many things, but I have mostly thought about the blessings of my life. Diabetes has been a blessing in the most twisted of ways. I have gained more empathy, more patience, more humility, and more realistic expectations for myself and others. Diabetes has forced me to let go of the excess that doesn't matter. I don't sweat the small stuff anymore. I just sweat the big, humungous stuff like insulin reactions in the middle of the night - literally.

Five Ways How to Tease Your Dad

Last week when Abbey was home sick from church, she kept herself busy making this little poster and putting it up proudly in Brett's studio. It is difficult to read from the poor photo, not to mention the creative spelling, so I typed out all the helpful hints here:

The Napkin Joke

1. He asks for a napkin

2. Get one napkin

3. Give it to yourself

4. Act natural

5. See what happens

The Chocolate Stealer

1. Get all the chocolate and put it in your room

2. He goes to the kitchen for chocolate

3. You tell him he needs to buy more

4. Do it again

5. You do it until he notices

The Sassy Joke

1. He tells you to clean your room

2. You say, "I know you do but what do I do?"

The Tack Joke

1. Get a tack

2. Put it on Dad's chair in the middle

3. He sits back up with a tack on his pants

The Eating Joke

1. It is dinner time

2. You ask your dad to get you a drink

3. He gets you one

4. You go to the garbage and throw it away

I would say that last one is going too far, don't you? It's no wonder Brett has a slight twitch these days. Daddies are just too fun to tease, I guess. Although he gives as good as he gets, so don't feel too sorry for him! What would your list look like?

October in Doha

Last year we were in Utah for Ben's wedding so we didn't get to see what Halloween is like here in Doha. This year was different, and I don't know about other compounds in Qatar, but ours really knows how to do Halloween right.

Denise is one of our great neighbors and she planned the whole week. First she held a craft activity on Wednesday for the children at the clubhouse where they got to decorate their trick or treat bags, make ghosts, dead fingers out of clay, etc. They loved it. It was quite interesting to hear her British accented voice directing the fun.



Then Denise planned and hosted the Halloween night. In front of her villa she decorated in true western style, complete with a talking skeleton that had an eyeball pop out of its socket and a bob for apples station. The children posed for pictures, then another neighbor Johnny, who is known for his shy reclusive ways (NOT!), led the children in a Halloween parade around the compound. They screamed, they walked like zombies, they cackled like witches, they stomped like Frankenstein, and just plain had a blast entertaining the neighborhood and especially the workers of our compound. The men from the Phillipines, Malaysia, and India stood in awe of this very strange western tradition but then joined in with werewolf howls and scary yells of approval.

After the parade the children were let loose to trick or treat to their hearts' content. Denise had sent around signs with the party invitations that neighbors could post on their doors letting the children know which villas would be handing out treats. I think most of the neighbors participated - even Matheena, who had a baby on Wednesday, was on the porch with her pink bundle greeting the goblins. Abbey's bag was full after only a few minutes. Then everyone gathered in front of Denise's villa for a pot luck dinner. The children had no desire to eat because another neighbor named Justice generously donated his Jeep or Landrover (who knows?), loaded it with hay, and gave "hay rides" to anyone who wanted to go. He never tired of driving around and around the compound loop, and the smiles on the faces of those kids kept the hay rides going for at least an hour. The food was so good and so diverse with Indian samosas, vegetable pizza, hot dogs, my white chili, three layer bean dip, kabobs, and Arabic food I don't know the name for. It was truly a night of multiple cultures coming together for a unique western celebration.

As I sat there soaking in the atmosphere, I could almost imagine myself on main street U.S.A enjoying a traditional spooky party with neighbors. It even feels like Utah at times when I socialize with the four families on our street who are also members of our church (what are the odds, huh?). If it hadn't been for the 90 something degree temperature, it would have been a little easier to transport my imagination, but as it was, the evening was perfect. Abbey was so, so happy to be running around like a goblin with all the other monsters. The only thing that marred the evening was Abbey's trick or treat bag went missing. She cried big tears and said, "I don't need the candy, but now I don't have anything that proves I went trick or treating." Since she was cheated out of trick or treating last year because we were flying back to Qatar from Utah, I felt all the more sorry for her. Thankfully this morning my neighbor Terah brought over Abbey's bag with an apology about her son mixing their bags up. Abbey will be thrilled to see it this afternoon after she gets home from school.

So that was just Halloween and the week before. The week before the week before Halloween I was busy with room mother duties - decorating the classroom door and delivering donuts on the dress-up day. Brett helped me with the decorating, so I think it turned out to be one of the best displays. Abbey and Mrs. Errico had to explain the "count" reference, but they thought it was nice and scary. I also had a swim party for my Activity Day Primary girls on Saturday. They are a wonderful group and keep me on my toes. That same day Abbey, Brett, and I attended a function at the American Ambassador's home that was hosted by his wife Ellie LeBaron. Every month she hosts Americana for Children activities that are meant to give expat children some good experiences and lessons about American history, culture, and patriotism. We got our photo op with Mrs. LeBaron (a distant relation, I'm sure) and learned more about Columbus (for Columbus Day). It was so good to see the American flag flying over the residence and the flag ceremony at the activity. America is my favorite land hands down. So it is no wonder that I ended up with a cold and cough that kept me home most of last week. This old grandma woman is not as young as she used to be. Kristy and Ben had the advantage of my youth. Abbey has the advantage of my wisdom and experience. I guess there is no perfect parent out there.

So how was your Halloween? I hope you got as many treats as we did.

The Things Boys Do

A couple of weeks ago Kristy and I were talking via Skype on my birthday. Kimball was running around naked and Thomas was wrapped in a towel because they had just gotten out of the tub. Kristy pulled Kimball onto her lap so he could wish me a happy birthday. His bright smile beamed through the internet like lightning as he saw me and said, "Grandma!!" That exclamation is one of my favorite things to hear. I made her kiss and tickle his chubby belly for me. Kristy said, "Kimball, say Hap-py. . . . . " Kimball then smiled and said, "Hap-py . . . . . " Kristy then prompted him again, "Birth-day!" Just at that moment Kimball got slightly distracted by a certain body part and said, "Penis!" without missing a beat. Not many grandmas get wished a "Happy Penis" on their birthday. Those are the things boys do.

The Things Girls Do

Abbey bought this souvenir at the Tate Modern Museum gift shop in London. Now if my son Ben had bought this, he would have tested it as a crash dummy or found other ways of torturing it. I walked into Abbey's room this morning at two different times and found these two outfits being displayed. I guess Ben might consider this a different kind of torture, but girls will be girls. Who cares what artists use this for. Proportions are important in Barbie fashion too!

The Pink Heart Café

Brett gave me a painting for my birthday - a dream come true. Ever since he drew me that first cartoon sketch in my dorm room when we were dating, I have wanted my artist husband to create a painting just for me. Now that he finally has a studio and the time to paint, he is acting more like the artist he has always been - one who actually paints. Yippee!

The painting is abstract with maybe one identifiable element - a heart, my favorite symbol. I love my painting. When he unveiled it for me, it was still wet, but I wanted to touch the thick brush strokes and have a dress made of the colors. I asked him what he had titled the painting. He hadn't thought of a title yet, so he let me name it. I christened the painting "The Pink Heart Café."

A million years ago, when Brett and I were engaged, we were, of course, poor. We were together as much as possible - Cedar City and St. George was the extent of our long distance relationship. Without a lot of cash, and a fiancé who was determined to pay off my engagement ring BEFORE our wedding, we didn't have many official spend-money dates. Being the very mature 18 year old I was, I began to feel a little sorry for myself, not being able to be wooed in the traditional dinner/dancing style. So Brett enlisted some help and came up with a solution to my pouty face.

Brett's sister Marcell is the reason Brett and I are together. Well, she is the one who set us up on the blind date, and then three weeks later, we were engaged. I guess she didn't have to do much except point us in the right direction. (She is responsible for three of her siblings getting hitched, by the way.) So Brett knows that Marcell is the go-to-girl for just about everything, including the setting up of a special date for his fiancé. Sean, Brett's younger brother, also got roped into the plans and it became a family affair.

When I walked into the Kearney home on that July evening in Washington, Utah, there were twinkle lights set up in the living room and a small table with a lace tablecloth. There were hearts everywhere, on the wall, the door, the curtains, and the chairs. As the maitre d'/waiter (Sean) seated us I saw a very personalized menu on the table. The title of the restaurant was in big bold letters across the front page: THE PINK HEART CAFE Now this was in the days before common, household computers and printers. This menu had been created by hand, Brett's hand, complete with hand drawn cartoons, silly personalized jokes, and the meal selection for the night. I think we had BLTs and some kind of strawberry dessert, made, of course, by Chef Marcell. (Who knew that she would later become a kitchen manager at The Olive Garden and now run a school lunchroom?) I still have that precious menu. It is one of the many treasures in my memory box.

27 years later, this painting has claimed the title of that homespun restaurant, and I couldn't be happier. Every time I look at it I remember the love Brett has always poured into everything he has done for me. And that is only one interpretation of this painting. I also say it is a definite expression of my split personality that Brett has had to deal with all these years, but all he says is, "That's the great thing about abstract art. You can interpret it however you want."

I See London, I See . . . . . .

We just spent a week in jolly old England, London to be exact, and indulged ourselves thoroughly in all of the Anglo-Saxon experiences we could cram into six days. The great reason we were able to go was because Brett had the happy work responsibility of being in charge of the student field trip this year for VCU Qatar. Abbey and I got to tag along with faculty and students, so three for the price of two was a great deal for our budget. We couldn't pass up this once in a lifetime opportunity. Since Abbey was off school for a week because of Eid holiday, it was a good time to travel. (ASD is now closed this week by order of the over-reacting Qatari health minister who closed all the schools in Doha because of the H1N1 scare, so Abbey didn't even miss the three days we thought she would.)



There is so much to write about, so I will have to just give the highlights. I have selected only a few photos out of the hundreds we took! Lucky you!

One of the best parts of this trip was getting to know some of Brett's students and colleagues better. They were a fun group, and it was especially good to get to know some of the quiet Muslim students a little better. I don't normally get that opportunity, so I felt extra lucky. A few of them are not in any of the photos, because they don't allow anyone to take their pictures, but they are really beautiful, graceful, and sweet girls. Sadly, one of the students actually came down with H1N1 during our trip and had to stay with friends in London to recover before she could fly home.

We stayed at the K West Hotel & Spa in Shepherd's Bush London. Because we were with a group of interior design students, this hotel was chosen for its unique design (inside and out). It was nice, but not the traditional London hotel you would expect to stay in. It was comfortable and the service was great, but we did learn that modern design isn't always the most practical or homey.

We tasted more than our fair share of fish and chips in our search for the traditional favorite of the Brits, but I have to say I was disappointed and we never found them. The fish was saturated in grease and the chips were just wide French fries. I was expecting what I know as English chips and gloriously fresh fish in yummy batter. Sadly disappointing. The best meal we had was at the Victoria and Albert Museum the last day we were there. I had a chicken/leek pot pie, and it tasted like what I had imagined English food to taste like. Another great meal we had was at a place called Belgo Central in Covent Gardens. Brett had a bucket of mussels that he thought were amazing. The British know how to do pastries and cookies for sure - anything that goes with tea I guess. Also, coming from Doha where restaurant service is almost too helpful, it was quite a surprise to find London's servers to be so unresponsive and SLOW. The night we went to the Globe to see Love's Labour's Lost we waited about an hour before giving up and leaving to make the play on time. The sausage biscuits we had instead at the play were good though.

On the first day we were in London Brett had beautiful flowers delivered to our room. My birthday was kind of rushed the day before with packing and getting to the airport on time, so the flowers made up for not getting a birthday cake. I woke up every morning to the glorious smell of these lilies that kept blooming all week. Thanks, Honey!

As we walked the streets of London the hundreds of statues and monuments almost become ho hum - there are so many! My favorites: Winston Churchill (he said he didn't want England to honor him with a statue because he didn't want his image as a place for pigeons to land), one of Abraham Lincoln and one of George Washington, and the lions at Trafalgar Square are quite impressive and a nice American man helped Abbey jump up onto the pedestal to get her picture taken. There is a beautiful arch near Hyde Park that was built for Queen Victoria. When it was finished she tried to go through the arch with her carriage and horses and the arch wasn't wide enough. She quickly told the architect what he could do with his Marble Arch! One place that we failed to take a picture of was Speakers' Corner in Hyde Park. It was great to look at that spot and imagine a young Elder Hinckley standing on a soap box and bearing his testimony of the restored Gospel. We also got to attend the Hyde Park 1st Ward on Sunday morning. We were expecting to hear a lot of British accents from the pulpit, but instead we heard American, Filipino, and Indian accents. I guess the expats have taken over.

The bridges in London are like nothing I have ever seen. The tower bridge is probably the most iconic. It is painted turquoise because that was Queen Victoria's favorite color. It happened to be opening just as we went underneath as we were boating on the Thames (never thought I would write that phrase!). We visited Westminster Abbey but could not go inside because of renovations taking place. We did have Abbey pose in front of the many signs with her name and got to explained why we spell her name the CORRECT way. Now she has more of an idea what an abbey is and can somehow think more about the quiet, secluded spot of worship and not always ask us why we spell her name wrong. The last picture in this section hardly needs explanation, but I've included it for our own Big Ben in Utah. We thought of you, big guy, whenever we heard the toll of the hour, and we want you to know that you are much more impressive than this clock.

When I was a teenager, during the summers, I worked as a tart seller in the Green Show at the Utah Shakespearean Festival in Cedar City. I fell in love with Shakespeare, the theater, English history, and the boys from Louisiana attending football camp at SUSC weren't bad either. Anyway, visiting Shakespeare's Globe Theater in London and attending a play there was a dream come true. We saw Love's Labour's Lost and thoroughly enjoyed the very interactive style that Shakespeare's plays promote. At one point the princess in the play and her ladies went around feeding grapes and finger sandwiches to the groundlings (the people standing right in front of the stage who only paid 5 pounds for entrance - the modern equivalent of what was charged in Elizabethan times). The food fight that followed was pretty entertaining as well. Abbey loved it and Brett said she understood the dialogue better than he did.

Another highlight was being able to see Wicked in London's West End. It was fabulous. The understudy played the role of Elphaba but she was so, so amazing we didn't know the difference. Before the play we ate at a restaurant named "Shakespeare's". I wish I could say the food was as legendary as its namesake, but at least we were in good company. Two of Brett's students came with us to the play and we enjoyed their young energy. They were polite enough to keep saying, "We just can't believe you guys are grandparents!"

The queen wasn't in town while we were in London, so we got to check out her digs - tour Buckingham Palace. We just happened to get off the tour bus just before the changing of the guard, so that was a happy accident. The crush of people wasn't so wonderful, because they were all pushing to see the same thing. Some nice Italian folks let Abbey push up to the front where she could see the marching band and the horsemen, so she had a better view than all of us. After touring the magnificent palace we "lunched" in the queen's garden out behind the palace, and as you can see, Brett and Abbey were on their best behavior - la de da! The strawbrerries (spelled that way because that's how Londoners say it) and cream were yummy, and even the chocolate tart had a crown on it!

The culture that we immersed ourselves in was thick and tangible. We went to three different art galleries: The Tate Modern, The Victoria and Albert Museum, and the National Gallery. Brett had tears in his eyes as he stood before Rembrandt's self-portrait, and Abbey recognized Van Gogh's Sunflowers from one of her art classes last year. We saw Monet's beautiful colors and DaVinci's perfect lines. There is nothing like viewing great works of art in person.

I totally picked this shot at random, but it happens to be of the Roman Goddess Diana, the huntress!


This shot is for all you Princess Diana fans - her pearl evening gown she wore when she went to Hong Kong. This was in the fashion exhibit in the V&A museum.



My favorite site in London is the Tower of London. Listening to the guides tell about the rich history of that place gave me goose bumps. We stood on the tower walls where William the Conqueror and his men defended their new fortress in 1066. We gazed at Traitor's gate where many a rebel had entered, including William Wallace of Braveheart fame, and then either escaped or lost their lives in horrible ways - like William Wallace. We saw the place where Henry VIII had two of his wives beheaded, and there was an exhibit in the White Tower showing many artifacts from Henry's time, including his much enhanced armour that highlighted his most famous body part, I suppose. Queen Elizabeth walked the grounds we walked. The crown jewels are also there, but once you've seen one 317 carat diamond you've seen them all!







The day we walked all over the Tower of London site and went to the Globe Theater I asked Abbey if I could help her by carrying her bag for awhile. She said, "No, Mom. I'm practicing to be a woman." And boy was she right - a woman has to carry her life with her wherever she goes, especially when visiting historic sites!



We are so grateful for this experience and feel blessed to have had this opportunity. The last night in London we rode on the London Eye and got to see all of London at a bird's eye view. One of the pictures we took from high atop the ride captured this kind of spooky brilliant green color in the gardens next to Buckingham Palace. We think it is the fairies having their own celebrations on the royal grounds. As we got off the ride the sun was setting, and we snapped the colorful images of Big Ben and Parliament. It was the perfect end to the perfect trip. Thanks for indulging my long descriptions and slide show. We wish we could have had all of you with us!