Sophisticated (excerpt 2)

Sophisticated 

   The word "sophisticated" has always fascinated me                  

for no apparent reason; maybe because it had no equivalent in Arabic, my mother tongue, an exact equivalent, that is. I was fond of Arabic and believed it is richer and more expressive than English (which is true) but ever since I started to study English literature, I fell in love with English. I kept the little dictionary uncle Mahmud gave me in my handbag all the time and opened it on the bus whenever I had nothing else to read; never bothering about my colleagues who believed me to be a book worm and joked  about my transistor dictionary. It was the eighties and   and students would carry transistor radios and later Walk-mans and earphones, while I was reading a novel or writing in my diaries on our way to and from the university.

On our very first drama class the word "sophisticated" acquired new connotations for me When Dr. Negm, trying to explain its meaning picked me out of the fifty nine students as an example of a "sophisticated" lady. That was something, for your professor to ask you to join him in front of the whole class and  act like a living model of he a fictional character as sophisticated.I found the situation very flattering; and I loved the way other students started to elaborate on the meaning of the word just by looking at me: classy, elegant, and expensive, of good taste, has great expectations. The blood rushed to my face and Deena told me I looked ridiculousness and thus negated the main point of being sophisticated with my shyness. She believed that being daring is an essential component of being a sophisticated person and this, both I and Deena were sure, was never part of my personality. Deena believed that with my neat, trendy French clothes, shoes and bags, my styled hair and a touch of expensive perfume, together with my perfect pronunciation of a language that other students struggled with, I might pass as one. But to those who know me well I am a shy, dreamy and naive girl. Deena was my best friend since first grade and sometimes I felt she knew me better than myself.  She  was right; an attractive appearance, love of literature, dreams, and "great expectations" are not enough qualifiers  for a sophisticated person.  I was thrilled for the description all the same and I tried to maintain the "shell of circumstances" that made others think I was sophisticated. Can you blame an eighteen year old student to be thrilled when described with the big word "sophisticated"?   

Excerpt (1) from Safe or Sound? kitchen scene

Hala struggled to grasp the idea and keep it at the back of her mind; it was a smart solution to the most complicated problem in her thesis that kept bothering her for the last month. It popped into her mind like a fire work of all shapes and colors as she put the meat in boiling water to cook for lunch. She knew she would have to work hard and long to put the sparkling idea into shape so that she would not have to miss up the rest of the chapters she had already finished ; the chapters approved by both the supervisors who rarely agree on anything at all. Those damn university regulations never fail to make my life a torture since I started writing my PhD.

Hala knew for sure that Salem would be upset if the food was not ready the moment he comes home. So she did not leave the kitchen to write her idea; instead, she decided to move the meat, which refused to cook after half an hour, to the pressure pot and start right away with the salad.  She moved nervously form the sink, where she had soaked lettuce in water and vinegar, to the fridge, to get tomatoes and cucumbers. She heard the key click in the door announcing Salem's arrival. "Thank God, I have washed the vegetables last night" she murmured to herself. She grabbed the cutting board from the rack where it was hanged and  the salad bowl from the top shelf and started to make the salad. She heard Salem's steps as he went to the bathroom then the living room and knew she would better hurry up and serve his lunch.  She ran to the fridge to get the dressing she prepared before as her mother advised. She was grateful that everything was ready when she suddenly detected a faint burning smell; Oh my God, now I have to start rice pudding all over again; she turned off the cook and took the plates to the dining table. I will soak some rice and it will be ready by the time he wakes up after his nap. I am not going to sleep anyway; I will have to work this long chapter out or I will lose track of how to do it.

Excerpt (1) from my upcoming novel: 

Safe or Sound?

The best shopper ever (2)!!!

The best shopper ever (2)!!!

"I want you to take the size of Nora's pants right now. I will call you back in five minutes. I am standing at the counter with two sizes and I want to see which one fits better", my husband says in his tenth oversees call to inquire about the size of this pair of pants.

In the first call, Mohamed asks what size he should buy. Then he doubts that the same size in his hand is too tight, so he makes another call to ask us to measure the waist of her favorite jeans.

The third time , he calls to let me know how clever he was since the size 30 I told him to get for her is too tight and that he wants to get 32.  The next call is about the length, and the following one is about her favorite color. He is puzzled when she tells him that she likes  red, green, blue, purple and orange and asks him to chose for her. A few minutes later he calls to tell me that he bought all five colors of the same pants!!!

A few moments later, he calls again about a dress for me or a T. shirt for Ali and we go about the whole process of taking the measures all over again, then the call about the colors and then the final decision that he will get all three available colors!!!

I freak out; not because of this fatherly devotion and generosity but because of the patience and physical effort he exerts to buy clothes for all of us and always forgetting about himself.

It is not just about clothes, but all other stuff.  If you are following the blog regularly, you must know by now his obsession with appliances and gadgets and electronics when you read "Waffle Makers and Friends". Mohamed is always travelling, and since he is a very family bound person, living most of the time without his family, he finds solace in shopping for the family. It is a psychological need that urges him to roam all malls and shops in the provincial town where he works looking for the things that we like and buy them for us.  There is also an element of skill that I should not overlook; the man has a great taste, and he is a good opportunity hunter.

When I or one of the children visit him, the daily chores of shopping double or triple as he insists to take us to all the places that he roams when we are not around. The last time I visited him I was amazed at the circle of friends he made while shopping for us. Whenever we go into a mall, all shop assistants and check out persons hurry to greet him. They insist that he sees all the new arrivals and check out all the offer items. One Indian salesman even hid some items for him, without asking, so that he can choose whatever he likes. I was tongue tied; I was sure they did this for him not because of tips, tips for sales assistants happens only in Egypt.  All sales person automatically sympathize with the big Egyptian guy who spends most of his time, and money shopping for his family!  He is a valued customer everywhere.  

In the supermarket I insist we get two trolleys and each goes his/her way to finish the list quickly. Usually, I finish first and want to check out and leave.  When I call him a hundred times to come to the counter, there is still a round of shopping that he will make; he starts to take stuff out of my trolley and replaces it with cheaper and usually better quality things from his trolley.  I feel really stupid; no wonder I really hate shopping for groceries. When we go home, I find he got double the list I wanted, all good stuff that I do not need!!

Is not that enough to make my husband the best shopper ever!!!  Please say Mash' Allah after reading this and wish for a great husband like mine.

The best shopper ever!!!

Women are said to be very picky and persistent shoppers; they can spend hours, even days to get the right colors, sizes and models for themselves.  Well, I do not belong to that clan of women, not any more. Ever since I embraced my lovely forties, I stopped hitting the malls unless I desperately have to.  I get tired so quickly moving from one shop to another or from the fitting room to the counter. I can proudly say I am one of the fastest shoppers and usually I know what I want and never bother finding something better or cheaper once I lay hands on something I like.

When the twins ask me to accompany them to buy sportswear, which they do almost every week, or outfits in City Stars, they know I will not last for more than an hour before I start to complain how tired I am.  They know I will soon collapse in the nearest chair and ask them either to buy or to leave.  I feel guilty about it every time, but I cannot help it. City stars does hurt me in a way that no other mall does; it leads me to hypertension or some kind of hysteria and the maximum time I am capable of spending there never exceeds a couple of hours which is never enough to buy even a pair of socks.

I was not like that with my older kids; I was younger and more energetic; I could shop for hours and move from one mall to another to find better prices or to compare prices before buying.  So, the unlucky twins created a shopping code with me: they would go with their friends first, tour the mall a hundred times and locate the things they want to buy, and then invite me to the final shopping tour, pretending they want to have my opinion when all they want is the money!!

I guess that leads me to be the worst shopper, right? But the whole point of the blog is the best shopper ever, right? Guess who? I won’t leave in suspense till tomorrow. The best shopper ever is my dear husband. You want to know how, well, this I will till you tomorrow.  

A Magical Morning

Magical  Morning

I am going through a magical morning!! Do you know those mornings when everything seems to go right? Well, in my morning everything does not only seem to go right, it is really going magical and I thank God for it.

I woke up after a good night's sleep, rested and fresh and above all pain-free.  I don’t really remember the last time I woke up without pain, without having to drag myself out of bed and keep reminding myself I have to wake up and go about the daily routines, to remind myself that with the help of pain killers and medications I can still function and be of help to myself and my lovely kids.

It is not the time to dwell on pain and negative feelings; this is a magical morning and I will make every bit of it go as so.  First thing in the morning, while still in bed I remembered last night's dream in which I was talking to Abdulla in our living room.  My morning conversations with Abdulla, in reality, do make my days every day. There is that sense of unconditional love and acceptance and encouragement from his part that makes me feel life is worth living, that pain does not really matter as long as I can still be with him. If you are reading the blog regularly you probably know by now that Abdulla is my 20 year old son, basketball champion and engineering student; he is my hero, my biggest accomplishment in life; my pride and joy.

Well, let's go back to the magical morning I have which obviously was preceded by my dream about Abdalla, who is in Norway on a student internship right now.  In the dream, Abdalla had decided to come home, only four days after he travelled, which are the exact number of days he left Egypt. Of course, I was radiating happiness that he is back, sitting by my side and slightly touching my shoulder with his head in his lazy manner when he wakes up and finds me reading the newspaper on the big brown coach in our living room.

Was it dreaming about Abdalla that made my morning magical?  I know that he will be reading the blog and he won’t like me to say no about this.  No, I had another lovely one that contributed to my magical morning in her most sweet and insisting manner. Nora, my sweet little daughter and mother, had been insisting that I "must" read her favorite book The Magic by Rhonda Byrne; convincing me that it will change my attitude to life and help me get rid of all the pains.  To be honest, I did not believe her, I even mocked her: what does she know about pain any way? How can a book alleviate my pain when all the doctors and their medications and alternative therapy failed to do this for years and years?

Maybe it wasn't the book that helped me; it was Nora's attitude, her sincere desire to help me; her faith that things can be better every day and that life has lovely things to give for those who insist.

The book however helped me appreciate the things I took for granted every day and never thanked God for. Things as simple as having running water to shower in the morning, or a kettle to boil water for tea, or a cozy chair to sit into and relax, never crossed my mind as worth gratitude, despite the fact that without them my life can be pretty hard.  I prayed and thanked God for my lovely twins, for my whole family and for the little things that I see and use every day without paying attention or giving thanks.

As I started the lap top to check my mail, I found another very dear face that I missed for a week; my husband was on line, which he never have time to do that early in the morning!!  All my loved ones insist to show up this morning, Abdulla in a dream and Mohamed on Skype, what a lucky woman I am. later I stumbled into a dear friend that I haven't seen for a long time, Eman Akeel, on facebook, and added her to my list of friends.  

I opened the door to get the newspaper only to find another magical present in it. If you remember my earlier blog "The battle of the Swan Lake", it was there in front of me on the news paper, printed in my dear newspaper, Al Watan  in Mr. Mahmoud Salah's page, decorated with a beautiful picture of swans!!!! What a Magical morning.

 When I posted the Battle of the Swan's lake in the blog, it was the most popular of all the posts, and I had many comments about it that made me happy and ready to go on with the blog forever. But seeing my words in print, on my favorite newspaper felt more magical, more real, more accessible to wider readers who do not have the privilege of surfing the net and coming accidently across my dear blog. I wrote a letter thanking Mr. Salah, which I will post to the blog, and I forgot to send him more blogs in case he wants to publish other pieces. Well, this can wait; let me not ruin my magical morning with any passive ideas.

To top all the lovely incidents of my morning with a sherry, Allosh, my sweet Ali, woke up, earlier than ever and started his guitar training. Thus, I enjoyed his magical playing as I went through
 my daily chores. 
Then, OM Sherief showed up, earlier than usual, and brought with her a breakfast that I really craved for a long time but did not dare to eat: foul soaked in (El Zait El Har) and fried eggplants and oven hot (Balady) Bread. I made green salad to go with this "explosive"
breakfast and we shared a yummy meal and strong tea.

Unlike usual, I felt an urge to talk to someone right then. So I called two of my best friends, Nihal, who arrived from Tunis last night and Reem who left Saudi Arabia after 12 years of working there and finally came home.  How sweet it is to be surrounded by my loved ones.

Then, I made the brave decision to sit down and write this blog for
 my wonderful readers, with my energy in full bloom and my spirits soaring to the sky and I hope you will notice the difference.

 Is there any better "magical" ways to start the day other than this?

If you have other lovely ways to start a magical morning, please let me know, but for now I am content and thankful for all the people I have in my life and for all the blessings that God granted me. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Waffle Makers and Friends

Waffle Makers and Friends

I never knew my kids were so popular at school or in clubs until my dear husband surprised me with a waffle machine.  Mohamed is really fond of electronics, gadgets and recently he got interested in kitchen appliances though he never cooked a meal or got near the kitchen. So, he buys whatever items he likes even if we do not really need them and sometimes we have to read the manuals to figure out what they are used for. 

The waffle machine, however, was the best of all my husband's surprises because Ali is the master of waffle eating outside and he later became a professional waffle maker at home.  He got me many recipes from the internet, played many flashes of waffle making on you tube and we started experimenting with the new machine until we came up with a heavenly mixture.  The results were AMAZING WAFFLES, no kidding, soft and fluffy and yummy and more important than anything else, CHEAP. The only thing that bothered me was the huge amounts of Neutella and chocolate syrup the kids drowned the waffles with, because these were not good for their health or my budget.

 The waffle machine changed my life and revolutionized the way I made breakfast every morning.   For the first month or so after we got it,   the kids will only have waffles for breakfast so I started to make big amounts of the dough and keep it refrigerated so I don’t have to start from scratch every morning.

News do really fly fast among teenagers and their cyber world.  One morning they had photos of their waffles sent to their friends and the very next morning I started having early guests for breakfast!  I woke up every morning to make a dozen of waffles instead of four or three and every week I would shop for more chocolate syrup and Neuttella than you can ever imagine.   We also tried new flavor like strawberry or caramel sauces.  It was then I started to hate the waffle maker and secretly wish it to vanish from my life.

One evening I got a call from Abdalla asking if we have waffle dough because he has a friend with him. Actually I did not have any but I enlisted the help of chief Ali and we started with our daily routine and made a huge bowl of dough to survive for two or three days.  It turned out that Abdalla's friend is not just one person BUT a whole bunch of huge hungry guys who just finished training and came straight from the club.  Such huge players with big appetites, Masha Allah will not be satisfied with less than a dozen waffles EACH. 

There were no dough left for next morning and the kids had to settle with cheese and eggs ever after for breakfast because the waffle machine did not survive the raid we had the night before.

What an evil mother I am !  I actually felt happy that day and woke up next morning to a house empty of morning guests.   I felt relieved and liberated;  I  did not have a waffle maker anymore and the kids stopped passing by.

 But again my husband, just like my kids, never fails to surprise me; he got me a new waffle maker and it is still working.  We make the best waffles in town and I am proud of it.

Don't be shy;  I will be more than happy to serve you ALL waffles if you keep reading and commenting on the blog.  Really; you are all welcome !   

abeerxx66@yahoo.com

The Avengers and our Great Victory

The Avengers and our Great Victory

"Mummy, Let's celebrate our great victory," the twins said triumphantly, holding their school certificates."

Yes, they did pass all subjects, even Arabic!!!!    That was enough reason for me to rejoice.  We decided to start the day with the cinema and then proceed with other activities in the mall that would definitely end with a crazy shopping spree that will ruin the budget for months.  But what the heck!  Let us rejoice, the twins do not succeed every day. They managed to defeat the evil books of math's and physics and chemistry and they deserve a day out as much as I do.

Both of them know I only watch comedies or romance because action or terror movies irritate me to the point of sickness. When I tried to be descent and asked them to choose the movie, they picked The Avengers and in 3 D. Can you imagine!!
It is not just that I freak out when I watch regular action movies, even the lame action movies like those by Ahmed Elsakka or Ahmed Ezz, let alone real American action. 

The movie is great, really. It has five or six superheroes instead of one:  Stark, the iron man, Hulk, the green man, Patricia some beautiful super spy,  Mr. America with special powers and Thor from outer space!!  What a happy woman I was to see them all together!!  .  All of these superheroes are busy beating and kicking and fighting one another in a desperate attempt to show their superiority which we already know until they join forces to defeat the evil Luky.  In 3D,  this makes you feel you are actually inside the battle, part of the struggle and you get your share of the blows and shots and missiles and all sorts of things are flying into your face for three hours. 

"So what is the big deal? It is an action movie isn’t it? " I can hear you saying.   The big deal is that I cannot handle any of the things that everyone else find fun and interesting and thrilling. Seriously,  I freak out at high sounds due to the nerves that raising four kids had damaged long ago.  With each blow, my muscles ached and stiffened and my nerves felt like electricity wires without insulation.

I seized the opportunity of the break and went out to calm down and relax for a while.  I stayed out as long as I could maybe I could save myself some battles or a few kicks and blows. When I went inside to find that the kids were already worried about me and believed I was lost but are still watching the great movie.  Anyway, the film ended with the expected triumph of the superheroes over the evil Luki and his army of metal dinosauric flying creatures.  Everyone is happy and clapping and no one can imagine what happened to me; I was damaged beyond repair.

Why I am telling this story?  Well, I have my reasons, and they are good ones too. First, I want to celebrate what my twins called their "great victory" and I am proud I did it their way and survived the trauma of the action movie.

Second, I want to advise all mothers to save themselves the trouble of attending such a movie. Believe me; you have enough action in your life with your kids, especially if they are tenth graders like my sweet twins!!!

abeerxx66@yahoo.com

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