From Kuwait

Lobster Faces and Beach Feet

As the winter is practically over (it’d be around 30°C in shade by now, if it wasn’t for a sandstorm earlier this week which forced the temperatures way down – heck, it was 3°C the morning after it, cold even for me!), taking a good walk gets a priority for me.

But it has been picking up back to heat ever since, hence a good outing was in order. And so we did!
I’ve also “celebrated” a successful third month on Rusty Moore’s program (well, slightly modified for my needs, with Fitness Blender thrown in here and there when I feel like it, just to spice things up), and I feel great. Well, not that great yet, but good enough and better than before for sure. I’ve probably lost a pound or two as well; wouldn’t know, really, as we’ve got no scales at home. But I do tighten my jeans’ belt 2 holes more, and that’s something (we’re talking about roughly 7 cm!). What I do know for sure are three things – I look like a freshly boiled lobster after a workout, and I feel like Niagaras right after that; but I also feel exhilarated and “able” in the longer run. And that’s what really counts, as it helps me battle a lot of stuff along the way.
I also sleep a tad bit better – except for teething nights – since, well, an hour of rigorous exercise a day does add to energy loss in the end of the day and I fall in the bed half unconscious at times. Which in turn leads to better feeling in the day due to longer and deeper sleep, more energetic body, yaddi yadda, I think everyone knows that living in a certain way produces certain results.
However; that doesn’t mean that I don’t feel totally wrecked after Maryam decides to have a bad, bad night and not let me sleep, and I still refuse to skip my daily dose of treadmill (although usually shorter interval than if I slept well). It wrecks me good. Very good. Those days I tend to fall asleep sitting over dinner.
But hey. All in all, it’s better now. Not that it was particularly bad before, that is.

 

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Winter’s Edge

An unusually chilly morning for Kuwait today, even the street cats thought it was way overboard. Hiding from harsh wind (although blissfully salty from the sea), tucked away under concrete blocks trying to warm themselves up in the sun – which was very pitiful this day, just by the way. And that’s not something I say in Middle East.

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Dreamy Monday Morning

It was soooo misty today! Had to run out with camera after taking kiddo to school, couldn’t resist this rare kind of weather in our neighbourhood and let it go unsnapped.
Photo op, right?

Even after dreadfully bad night (young’un is teething and being true to the feverish suffering of hers – as per usual), the short walk in pure milkiness of the fog was much better than a nap. Although, I might think otherwise later in the day, I admit.

 

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Happy Birthday, Old Man!

(Yes, I’m talking about you, dear husband! 37! Wow.)
Had a lovely walk and a lunch at Marina today, although my husband didn’t seem to enjoy it just on the same level as we did. I reckon it could be the fact he gets there more often than us.
Snapped few pics, most of them blurry – imagine trying to stand still to have it sharp, but there’s always someone poking you and pushing you. That was Maryam, most of the time. Moving objects the second half of the attempts.
But few are quite all right. First and foremost, I’ve finally managed to catch how scaffolding looks like in Kuwait. I’ve seen a worker slip on one of these and manage not to fall down by catching one of the wooden “pipes” while slipping, so he hung down but didn’t get hurt. Mostly, it looks exactly like this – as a pile of matches randomly tied together; and more often than not they have no wooden palettes to walk on either. Adrenaline much. Injuries probably more.
The rest of the photos are more in the happy field, though.
The last one depicts rather nicely autumn weather in Kuwait. Heat, and sandstorms. Now we’re at the “almost winter” stage, where it still can get up to 30 degrees during the day, but can go as low as 8 in the night. We blew some serious money on this year’s winter wardrobe for kids there at Marina. Seriously; why does a sweater for 6 months old baby cost the same as mine?! You can’t tell me it is the same amount of material. I am not the 6 months old to believe so.

 

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Morning Sun

… after the minor dust-storm yesterday, seeing the sun was – for a change – rather a nice thing.
Some snaps on the way to his nursery during a beautiful sunrise (only 23 degrees Celsius in shade at that time! I’ve been waiting for this weather for months!).
Abbas seems to enjoy walking in the small patch of desert left within the neighbourhood, pretending to be sinking in the deeper, soft sandy areas. He can be pretty funny at times. When he wants.
And no. This isn’t our house.

 

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Pozemek, potomci, a tak

Tož se nám ten rok zase přehoupl, další škola začíná (tedy, pro Doubravku až příští týden, ale Abbáse jsme poslali do školky už nyní… to snad ani není lidské, jak ten pidičlověk ječí a ječí a ječí). Pět peněz za školné a dvojí výbavičku, protože batole odmítá nemít to samé, co starší sestře; a dvacet peněz za Daniela, neb kocourek onemocněl a momentálně tráví dny ve zvířecí nemocnici na kapačce a katetru, což v Kuvajtu není levná sranda. Snad ho vyléčí, bylo by tu tuze smutno, a jeho bratr se momentálně jak tělo bez duše jen toulá po bytě a z depky ani nechce jíst.
Když už jsme byli tak daleko v poušti, jukli jsme taktéž na pozemek nám přidělený v Khiranu. Až se barák postaví, z druhého patra bude snadný výhled na Saudskou Arábii… zatím tam tedy courají jen velbloudi, a kromě základní infrastruktury je všade písek, písek, písek. Nic moc pro děvečku z Vysočiny, jak poznamenala má známá.
Na týden a kousek jsme tu měli klapouchého ďábla na hlídání, sedmiměsíční kotě (?) Skotské klapouché kočky, která soustavně terorizovala naše dva hromotluky. Děti byly na větvi, že takhle malá kočka existuje, ona z toho, že ne každé dítě ji tahá za ocas a nohy (mám je totiž jaksepatří vychované).
Marii je půl roku, a už si to hezky trajdí, většinou tedy zatím komando, po loktech, ale rychle, pokud je na konci trasy chlupaté stvoření k požvýkání; občas zkusí po kolenou, ale moc se jí to zatím nelíbí. Však, má čas. Do toho si hlučně povídá a tím tak oficiálně vstoupila do bandy malých, ale hlasitých. Já sama jsem osoba tichá, vůbec to nechápu. Hluk přece nemůže být legrační? (Ačkoliv, pravda, měla bych se optat našeho sousedstva, které, zdá se, má též jakousi podivnou oblibu v bordelu.)
Také začala projevovat zájem o zásuvky a další zlotřilosti. A brečí, když se jich (z bezpečnostních!) důvodů nedostává.
Stejně jako Dori během nemluvněcích a batolecích let, je Maryooma zatím záprdek. V šesti měsících odrůstá velikosti 0-3, a dostala celý nový šatník, jelikož veškeré dupačky proděravěla na palcích; očividně nejsou šity s myšlenkou na lezoucí pidižvíky. Manžel to kvitoval spíše neštastně, neb z hloubi sérdce nesnáší nakupování. Jakékoliv. Kromě obleků.
Minilidi mi ztratili nabíječku na foťák, tož fotky nemám. I velbloudí otisky jsou jen z mobilu. Hnus, ale co nadělám. Hledám, nenacházím, dětský pokoj je záhadná černá díra na potřebné ztracenosti. Ale mám tedy nutkání čapnout černý pytel. Těch hraček jsme naakumulovali snad Karpaty. A Karpaty v bytě jsou nelibé.
PS.: Musím vysvětlit manželovi, že ač dobře míněné, fixky na tabule jsou naprosto nešťastný dar dvouletému umělcovi, pokud tedy (manžel) nemá zvláštní zalíbení v mramorové podlaze přizdobené černými, červenými a zelenými čmáranci. A zdech. A kobercích. A nábytku. Sourozencích jakbysmet.

 

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