“When some blessings come to you, do not drive them away through thanklessness.”
— Imam Ali, a.s.
Well, not on my skin, if that’s the question; however I will get one (and probably much more) and I will slap it on a wall. Stumbling through the dangerous and swampy internet waters I’ve realised that many of my favourite interior designs are based upon wallpapers or strong graphics on the walls, and a wall tattoo is the right solution.
It is in most cases (easily) removable, and it can make a room, be it a bedroom, living room or your study, much more personal.
Digging into contemporary interior design is tiresome in the terms of overwhelming amounts of ideas and suggestions suitable for our new flat and the fact that my hubby shifted colour and furniture decisions on me means I am … like Alice in the Wonderland.
I managed to make a so-so imagination for most of the rooms in the flat, be it a colour of the wall, carpet or the furniture – through one very long evening here in the hospital. Google for the win, and my ability to look up things people can’t normally find as well (yes, I’m really patting myself on the back).
The possibility to customise your living area with these tiny (sometimes cheap and sometimes pricey) bits of graphic design is just plain awesome. A room with the same wall colour and same furniture can easily change it’s atmosphere just by it – putting a big black crow on the wall behind a sofa in one case or a fragile floral design in another, and here we go, two a bit more personalised, different spaces immediately just by snap of a finger (or a sticker, if you may).
Kid’s rooms are much easier. No need to worry about pictures covering the wall, making it more children-friendly and bright, just slap a sticker on the paint. You have less worries and a kid has more fun.
I’m definitely going to get a tattoo. If not for living room or bedroom, than for my study room. It will be, in the end, the craziest room of all anyway. (And I bet my shoes it will be the most popular too.)
That is how we spend our days in Kuwait right now. The first week was a calm breeze, the second is like a rocky storm. We encountered several problems in our plans such as unwilling officers, unneeded circumstances and such, some got solved, some yet to be.
One of our least expected complications occurred when we took Dori to a doctor to check out her continuous ear problems, stretching three weeks back to Britain, as mentioned few posts earlier.
First doc, recommended by my mother-in-law (a nurse), just looked at it and referred us to Al-Sabah Hospital in Shuwaikh area with acute mastoiditis. There we got checked once again, and to our surprise there was no do-it-and-leave treatment, we were immediately hospitalized on the ORL ward, not even a chance to pick up pyjamas back at home.
Dori got her first infusion in the life and my heart still shatters into hundreds of pieces remembering how full of real pain was her cry. Up to today we are on her fourth infusion spot and several allergy tests and blood taking from her instep and a toe. The poor baby is full of needle holes, and we are still to stay here several days, so we will complete the whole week – Sunday we came, Sunday we’ll leave – inshallah.
Alhamdulilah we found a flat – rather quickly, so that worry is off; now just to re-paint the walls as some rooms are shaded in really hideous colours (like … lime…? … purge…? … green…?) and furnish it – pain for Abu’s wallet mainly. This will take some time so we are still residing in one bedroom with bathroom detached from the main house of the family, and probably will reside for about a month or two more. I might get crazy from the (optically) confined place, but I have to say that hubby is trying hard to make my time good and not boring.
Today we went to check out the oh-so-known Kuwaiti water towers, one of the most remarkable landmarks of this small desert country. It’s like a Big Ben of Kuwait, if we may.
Abdullah took us today to the Kuwaiti aquarium to have some fun, Dori mostly eventually. She loves to watch the fish, though she is scared of anything half a size of her or bigger, hence really refused to go close to a window where sharks were swimming.
Kuwait is … hot. Flat. Hot. Sandy. Hot. Broadleaved trees similar to those in milder climate seem to, mysteriously, do much better than palms here – the poor palms are dry as the sand around and also mostly turning the same colour.
Kuwait is … different, really. And hot, if I didn’t mention it yet.
PS: I would upload more pictures and so, but the internet here is fighting with me and refuses – you tell me why – to load Flickr most of the time. When it eventually does load, it refuses to deal with individual photographs and I’m unable to get to the code, so it’s a little struggle for now with the pictures coming…
And by the way, it’s hot in here.
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