Tag Archives: husband

I Can’t Believe it’s Winter Time

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So here we are, in the first Advent week, outside are mere 15 degrees, still sunny and the occasional rain was probably just the last week’s news. As for now, it actually can still get pretty hot over the day.
I’ve finally (!) managed to fix my SD card reader, who would think that after a year of not working I would have this brilliant idea (which, as I found out later on on Google, is pretty non-brilliant and kind of *duuuh*), and I uninstalled all generic USB drivers on my PC and let it re-install with a restart. Bam, I’ve got myself a working SD card reader. I just wish I would figure that out a year ago, so I wouldn’t be doing this clunky card-to-notebook-to-hardrive-to-PC thing… Oh well, at least I know it now, let’s stay positive! And some pictures to prove it.



I’m getting pretty fat by now which I’d say should be positive, as far as it’s not only the fluff supplies growing but also everything under them, in the order as it should and it is required. My next doc appt. is in two weeks and I am already getting paranoid if everything’s ok.
But, inshallah, it is.



I am soo hormonal nowadays. Hubby recently bought a roll from Cinnabon as a good-husband-gesture and I almost cried. Not over the gesture, but because cinnamon rolls make my stomach go awry already for few weeks, so I was torn apart between eating it and running to the bathroom and not eating it and making my husband disappointed and sad – which is what brought me to tears. The imagination of a sad husband and his good will gesture going to waste. So I pinched a little on it and than stopped with an excuse on a really full stomach. It was true after all and no lie, as the sweets arrived right after a pretty big lunch. *Phew*. Actually, writing about it makes me wanna cry too.
I’m also all tears over being far from snow, winter, miserable weather, and all these Christmas lights and awful design ideas of trees and decorations, and the smell of gingerbread and long nights and the smell of Christmas days I remember from home – a pine, an orange, some gingerbread and lots of colourful lights instead of a night lamp. Good for eyes while reading!
I was thinking about making some carton decoration for our desert home here, so my kid has fun when doing it and it’s better than TV, and our housekeeper is a Christian – so to make her a little happy and feel more friendly in this land of sand a mosques.
Will see, it’s still a lot of time after all. I am, however, definitely going to try to bake some of the traditional Czech stuff.
Oh oh and not to forget with my baby brain – my dear husband gave me a birthday present in advance again and paid for my site hosting as well as Flickr Pro account, so I can continue writing about nonsense and upload pictures nobody wants to see. Yay me! Thank you, Abu.

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Stuck Waiting

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Days flow like a sand through my fingers, all same, a copy & paste of each other now – Ramadan always changes the whole tempo of life, but being in Czech and alone changed it a lot. Well; it’s my first fasting in Czech Republic and besides the fact that I’ll probably eat a cow at once when I come back home (no halal meat nearby at this forgotten place), the summer days here are pretty long, understand, the light period of a day is damn long and thirsty; and yes, indeed I’m not physically alone, since I’m with my parents and sometimes with my bro and his GF here as well (who smirk very childishly at any mention of Muslim, Islam, or fasting – gosh, who of the sane mind would ever starve and thirst himself just to prove something as mere as self-discipline, and for so silly reasons such as the love of God! – but hey, I’m getting used to it again, the omnipresent misunderstanding and misconception of what I do believe in, not quite mentioning the fact that who believes in any kind of God or Greater Power in this country is deemed as completely nuts and weak. Dooh.).
So I’ve set my mind and body on sleeping late, getting up late, not biting my daughter in her butt when she’s innocently stuffing a doughnut under my nose throughout the course of the day, not swearing (hard sometimes!, I’m quite a bad mouth), and trying to invent telepathy or even better teleportation. One is obvious, second to put an annoying thought in the head of any officer handing our papers at the very moment, and that being that they’ve got to be done as soon as possible, yesterday was too late. Doesn’t work, so far, needless to say.


I’m waiting, waiting and waiting, for someone to finish it off already and let us back, because I miss my spouse so much it’s unbelievable, so much that my heart physically hurts when I think of how far apart we are and how long I didn’t put my ear on his chest and listen to his heartbeat.
Kiddo misses her daddy as well but due to the fact that she’s surrounded by rather new (to her) forests, meadows, rivers and inland summer and her loving grandparents, she’s not usually as sad and blue as I am. Which is good, ‘coz two depressed chicks would be rather a lot to take on.
So I fast alone and long after the closeness of my beloved one – yes, even now after years of marriage I’m still crazy in love and I can say I love him more and deeper than ever before – and hope that our jinnie took her holidays and I can see my obsidian-eyed, ebony-haired and kind-hearted husband before Eid Al-Fitr comes…

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Getting it Prepared

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Hubby leaves to London tomorrow to pick up our accidentally-allowed tourist visas with a fine hope of legalising our stay in Kuwait later on, during the three months of their duration, and was half packing (for moving) and half picking clothes (to wear for the trip), when he stumbled upon his only dishdasha he brought to England just for my sake, when I was intending to shoot some pics with it. He forgot to bring his kufi the first time so it wasn’t possible and when he brought it a year later, I already forgot about my desire (obviously it wasn’t so strong).

Aboody

Now, when going through the hills of our clothes we managed to gather in three years of living in Britain, he found the whole set and put it on, just for me. I have that weird thing for traditional Gulf attire, I find it more sexy than jeans and a T-shirt. It just looks so clean and nice. And Abood definitely looks really shmexy in it – for me, that is!

podpis

Some Reasons…

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… why I do love my husband so much.

  • He is just adorable. His smile, his eyes, his spirit.
  • He tolerates my moods, even the dangers of PMS.
  • He brings me Kinder Bueno when I PMS, knowing I will eat everything around.
  • He eats the food I cook and thanks for every dinner, saying it was wonderful, although I know my cooking is pretty aweful.
  • He cares when I’m late and gets worried because of that, even if it’s ten minutes only.
  • He buys me things I’ve only thought about having.
  • He brings me roses every once a while! That is just so awesome and gentlemanlike and adorable.
  • He is good in his character and has the right values as a man, as a husband, as a father, as a son, as a brother, as an uncle, as any possible role in life. His personal morals are high and he’s a wonderful example of grown-up for our daughter.
  • He is patient with my crazy ideas and demands.
  • He brings me milk even after 8pm.
  • He buys me toilet paper, because I’m European and he wants me to feel comfortable – though I don’t really use toilet paper anymore.
  • He stays at home with the family and doesn’t go out with friends or to play pool – his favourite – although I want him to have fun besides home.
  • He is willing to help anytime with anything I ask for. Peeling potatoes, shopping, even cleaning.
  • He takes care of the home trash-cans and bins automatically – so I don’t need to go out with trash. I love how considerate this is.
  • Although he’s a smoker, he never ever smokes in house or in front of me or our daughter.
  • He perfectly takes care of Dori when I feel sick or ill.
  • He has more perfumes than I do – and he always smells wonderful!

The Day We All Learnt to Fly

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The Day We All Learnt to Fly

Since I’ve started to read books from library once again I also have had to start to pay attention to the dates I need to return them – or else. (Or else its one pound per book per day, that quite makes me keep the dates.)
Today was, quite unfortunately, the last day I had available to go up to the Byker branch and return four books I’ve borrowed from there (or else), hence I had to go even if the weather forecast had been such as falling llamas; I have to say that it’s really close to that, though – looking from the window and remembering the flying on my newly grown wings (made from jilbab).
Very, very unpleasant wind and losing balance in it with my plus minus 60 kg I can’t really imagine how my 12 kg daughter felt like – but she surely grabbed on my hand often very tightly. Uncommon in these days of “ME MYSELF!”, but not as shocking considering the flying trash cans in the back streets.
So, whoever always dreamt of flying without wings – come up to Newcastle today, we guarantee you a really exciting experience! (Try to avoid a head bump to a double-decker, I dare you.)

PS.: Very essenatial information for most people (sarcasm alert) – the photography is taken with my brand new again-older-than-me lens I’ve purchased on eBay. Smc Pentax-M 28mm, f/2.8. On DSLR not really a wide angle, but I’m learning to co-op with it. And I’m starting to love it as my new-old 50mm. God bless Pentax for making cameras able to mount very old lenses on very new bodies!