It’s not the sun coming up over the Gulf – it’s coming up over the tall pine trees up on the hills north of Seattle. The day is going to be a sizzling 23°C / 74°F and I slept last night with my window wide open to the fresh, fresh air. It’s August in Seattle, and it is not raining. It doesn’t get any better than that!
When I got up this morning, I thought I really should be observing Ramadan, changing half the globe in time zones is the way to do it. I feel like eating all night and I feel like sleeping all day. I forced myself to stay awake last night until ten, and I was still wide awake at four in the morning – aaarrgh!
This one might qualify as the WORST:
Well, A Girl Potato and A Boy Potato had eyes for each other, and finally they got married, and had a little sweet potato, which they called ‘Yam.’
Of course, they wanted the best for Yam. When it was time, they told her about the facts of life.
They warned her about going out and getting half-baked, so she wouldn’t get accidentally mashed, and get a bad name for herself like ‘Hot Potato,’ and end up with a bunch of Tater Tots.
Yam said not to worry; no Spud would get her into the sack and make a rotten potato out of her!
But on the other hand she wouldn’t stay home and become a Couch Potato either.
She would get plenty of exercise so as not to be skinny like her Shoestring cousins.
When she went off to Europe, Mr. and Mrs. Potato told Yam to watch out for the hard-boiled guys from Ireland. And the greasy guys from France called the French Fries.
And when she went out west in the USA, they told her to watch out for the Indians so she wouldn’t get scalloped.
Yam said she would stay on the straight and narrow and wouldn’t associate with those high class Yukon Golds or the ones from the other side of the tracks who advertise their trade on all the trucks that say, ‘Frito Lay.’
Mr. and Mrs. Potato sent Yam to Idaho P.U. (that’s Potato University) so when she graduated she’d really be in the chips.
But in spite of all they did for her, one-day Yam came home and announced she was going to marry Tom Brokaw.
Mr. and Mrs. Potato were very upset.
They told Yam she couldn’t possibly marry Tom Brokaw because he’s just…well he’s just a…
Are you ready for this?
Are you sure?
OK! Here it is!
A COMMONTATER !!!
OK, OK, now I have to tell you the truth.
I am not celebrating Ramadan in Doha this year.
When we moved to Doha, we didn’t know how long we would be there. It could have been just months. I know, I know, those who knew us and knew the situation just gasped and said “Why would you do this?”
We don’t know.
This is our life. This is the life of expat contractors. You always get a choice, but sometimes you do what will help out the company. The packing and unpacking part, the leaving friends part – all that is bad. Really really bad. The moving to a place you have lived before, where you know the roads, you know the grocery stores and gas stations and don’t have to learn everything all over again, and best of all – where you still have good friends – all that is really really good.
So once we learned that we will be in Doha for longer than three months, I quickly booked a trip to Seattle. If we were moving again soon, I wouldn’t have bothered, because these long trips get harder and harder on us.
As we were about to land in Amsterdam, I just happened to look outside the window – and there was the sun. Thinking of all my friends in Kuwait who got sick and tired of the sun rising over the Gulf (hee hee hee, it’s MY blog, and I never get tired of the sunrise! ) I thought you might like to see the sun rising over a bunch of nice cool clouds and an airplane wing in Amsterdam.