We got so used to the incongruity of little pieces of Grandpop and Grandma's lives about the place - their book or notebook perched on the arm of a chair; a pair of specs on a table - and we miss them now they've gone. Almost simultaneously, went Sayyad, for a well deserved 2 month trip to see his family in Egypt and I realised as he handed me the key to the little garden at the bottom of our house, smooth as a shell from its constant use in his calloused hands, that the garden is definitely not the garden without him. I explained my thoughts and he looked pleased. The Lozenge chirruped that he'd like to go with Sayyad to 'Eejit' and if not there then with Grandma and Grandpop to Scotland in their suitcase.
The week we had with Umm and Abu Lucy raced by too fast, but we packed in many an activity including a trip to Um Ar Rasas, south of Amman, where lies a complete mosaic floor of a church built in the 8th century. The dwarves love it, as it's in 'the desert' and there was so much excitement about going back to see the 'moseggs' that the Lozenge woke up at 5am and was to be found, with J, painting the sunrise and making sandwiches for our picnic by 6.30am.
As Umm and Abu Lucy departed, so did the power, and we spent most of the evening in darkness with two very excitable dwarves running about with wind-up torches. Rashimi saw the arrival of my Arabic teacher, and yelled: 'No class! No class!' as he knows it means I'll be occupied for 2 hours. His wish was granted as Arabic is hard enough in daylight, and Mohammad and I agreed we wouldn't continue with the lesson in the darkness. So instead, we lit candles, and lolled about the four of us, the boys watching various iparaphernalia in lieu of television, and J and I reminiscing about the week. It's the second time Umm and Abou Lucy have been to stay, and as with their first visit, I feel the benefit of an outsider's view on our lives. If we are the shell around the egg of our dwarves, then Umm and Abu Lucy are the secondary shell which surrounds us.
St Grace is also relieved to have found some 'surrounding protection' as she put it in the form of Reem, or 'Weem' as the dwarves call her, who happens to be the only Sri Lankan woman in the whole of Jordan, with a driving license. And she is now the personal chauffeur for Grace and the boys in the afternoons. We waved them off on Sunday, and I noticed Rashimi looking rather suspicious at the downgrade from the Glammy's golden Mercedes to Reem's navy blue Kia with complimentary dents. There was much laughter and chatting in Sinhalese from the front as the female Sri Lankan duo - one Christian, one Buddhist, rattled off with them to find some suitable fun. The boys peeped out the back looking a little bovine and wondering what the fuss was about.
As they rounded the corner I thought to myself that the Lozenge and Rashimi are reminiscent of a pair of curling stones, their fledgling paths being swept and polished to olympian standards by many precious people, who seem happy to slide around on our rink with us, helping them to find their way smoothly forwards.
The week we had with Umm and Abu Lucy raced by too fast, but we packed in many an activity including a trip to Um Ar Rasas, south of Amman, where lies a complete mosaic floor of a church built in the 8th century. The dwarves love it, as it's in 'the desert' and there was so much excitement about going back to see the 'moseggs' that the Lozenge woke up at 5am and was to be found, with J, painting the sunrise and making sandwiches for our picnic by 6.30am.
As Umm and Abu Lucy departed, so did the power, and we spent most of the evening in darkness with two very excitable dwarves running about with wind-up torches. Rashimi saw the arrival of my Arabic teacher, and yelled: 'No class! No class!' as he knows it means I'll be occupied for 2 hours. His wish was granted as Arabic is hard enough in daylight, and Mohammad and I agreed we wouldn't continue with the lesson in the darkness. So instead, we lit candles, and lolled about the four of us, the boys watching various iparaphernalia in lieu of television, and J and I reminiscing about the week. It's the second time Umm and Abou Lucy have been to stay, and as with their first visit, I feel the benefit of an outsider's view on our lives. If we are the shell around the egg of our dwarves, then Umm and Abu Lucy are the secondary shell which surrounds us.
St Grace is also relieved to have found some 'surrounding protection' as she put it in the form of Reem, or 'Weem' as the dwarves call her, who happens to be the only Sri Lankan woman in the whole of Jordan, with a driving license. And she is now the personal chauffeur for Grace and the boys in the afternoons. We waved them off on Sunday, and I noticed Rashimi looking rather suspicious at the downgrade from the Glammy's golden Mercedes to Reem's navy blue Kia with complimentary dents. There was much laughter and chatting in Sinhalese from the front as the female Sri Lankan duo - one Christian, one Buddhist, rattled off with them to find some suitable fun. The boys peeped out the back looking a little bovine and wondering what the fuss was about.
As they rounded the corner I thought to myself that the Lozenge and Rashimi are reminiscent of a pair of curling stones, their fledgling paths being swept and polished to olympian standards by many precious people, who seem happy to slide around on our rink with us, helping them to find their way smoothly forwards.
No comments:
Post a Comment