5inabus

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48 posts tagged ABD updates

Goodbye Tumblr, Hello Wordpress

I love Tumblr. It’s got style, it’s got personality. I love the way no two blogs are the same; you’re not confined by a rigid set of rules geared entirely around something as narrow as readership. It’s not blogging by numbers.

But.

You can’t have a conversation with yourself. And sadly, blogging on Tumblr is like blabbing away into a telephone receiver for ten minutes before you realise you’ve been disconnected. Hello? Is there anybody out there?

Wordpress, blogger, they’re not like that. Boring-looking and not for the technically challenged, these platforms are comprehensive and reliable, like nana’s biscuits. Year after year they’re the same; predictably nutritious.

So I’m making the move. This lovely looking blog will stay, probably only for my benefit, while wordpress in its uniform, cookie-cutter style, takes over the mantle. From now you can find 5inabus here.

Liam winning gold today in the 25 meter free style, by just a whisker.  He’s in lane two, near the botton of the screen.  He’s such a reserved little boy, I never picked him for being so competitive.  But there he is, drilling down the pool with the same determination that has seen him waking me up at 6am for the past two weeks so I could take him down to the pool to train.  So proud of him.  This is the stuff of why.

Malcolm at a meeting with the Prime Minister of the UAE & Emir of Dubai, Sheikh Mohammed Bin Rashid Al Maktoum together with Ambassadors from Angola & Vietnam.

5 years ago we kicked off Malc’s 35th to the tune of this video… What will we do this year on his 40th?  I propose a small volume entitled “40 pieces of advice on turning 40”.  Please send me one of your pearls for inclusion by email 5inabus@gmail.com, or post it below…. deadline 48 hours, yikes!!   

If inspiration (and Google) lets you down - simple birthday wishes will do!

This year, 2011, was brought to us by…

  • The Letter “A” - For Abu Dhabi
  • The Number 218 - The quantity of boxes our lives were compressed into on departure, not including one bus)
  • The Regret - Of Goodbyes
  • The Excitement - Of starting all over again (“Additionally, the doctor believed that the pleasure of homecoming was more than recompense for the pains of setting out, and that therefore it was always worth departing” - Louis De Bernieres)
  • The Saying - “Insh’allah”
  • The Temperature - 50 degrees
  • The Book - “When God Was a Rabbit” By Sarah Winman, on account of it succeeding in making me cry and laugh at the same time, literally.
  • The Song - “My Happiness”, by Powderfinger (a few years late with that one)
  • The Anxiety - Of taking 3 kids half way around the world, dropping them off in a foreign classroom and reassuring them as they stand there all alone holding back tears, “I know what I’m doing, trust me you’ll be fine”
  • The Pride - Of watching 3 kids excel, half way around the world in a foreign classroom, running off into the distance with friends, not even pausing to glance back at you
  • The Appreciation - For the enormity of the task Malcolm has undertaken
  • The Admiration - For his talent and dedication in pulling it off
  • The Achievement - Of furnishing an entire house at Ikea in under 24 hours (which was my sole contribution to aforementioned task)
  • The Sadness - of friends and family departed, somehow even harder for the distance; Grandma Painter, Uncle Harry, Evs; Neville; Amanda.
  • The Disappointment - Of being told off in a public car park not once, but twice in one year (and it wasn’t for stealing shopping trolleys either)
  • The Venue - The Corniche, 8kms of blissful rollerblading waterfront.  This is where I do all my serious thinking; for example “Life it too short, I’m going to the wedding” and “One day I will find the right words” and “God I miss the 90s”.
  • The Sentiment - Whatever’s there to feel, feel it – the riddance, the relief, the fright and freedom, the fear of forgetting, the dull ache of your own mortality. Get with someone you can trust with tears, with anger, and wonderment and utter silence. Get that part done – the sooner the better. The only way around these things is through them (Thomas Lynch).
  • The Mission - To get all the kids’ homework done in under 17 hours per week
  • The Shame - Of having become dependent on a weekly visit to the manicurist for no other reason than because everyone else does it, and hey, I quite like it so why not?
  • The Guilt - Of discovering that “cheap tasty food delivered to your door” is a way of life here and subsequently declaring I will not cook until further notice
  • The Surprise - Of earning the title of “3rd best Goodreads reviewer in New Zealand” on the week of Christmas
  • The Concern - That perhaps I’m taking my geekiness just a bit too far
  • The Mentor - W. Moloney, for constantly reminding me what a coup it is to have the title “stay at home mum” and to damn well enjoy it while it lasts
  • The Inconvenience - Of having the principal account holder (i.e. Malcolm) receive immediate notifications every time a purchase or withdrawal is made (yes Girlfriends, think that one through!).
  • The Fun - Of being the only kiwi parent I know in Abu Dhabi who got their kids out of school to watch the All Blacks play in both the Semis AND Finals of the RWC, certainly the only parent to bowl my way into the classroom wearing pom poms with her face all painted black.
  • The Horror - Of a Cocktail party with no alcohol
  • The Double Horror - Of a Cocktail party with no food OR alcohol, and a programme that goes on for 3 hours, not including speeches
  • The Pain - Of heels that look good
  • The Wonder - Of blue skies, every day
  • The Wonder - Of Snow in Wellington
  • The Relief - Of having reconciled with my brother
  • The Pleasure - Of watching him marry the love of his life
  • The irritation - Of declaring how much I hate Facebook only to use it without shame nor restraint all year

And finally, 2011 was ALSO brought to us by….

  • A Job - Thanks Te Rau Matatini, from your 20-hour-a-week senior researcher based remotely (lets not calculate the precise distance ok?)
  • A Family - With no children under 5 anymore, hooray!
  • A Husband - Who loves me, despite my moratorium on cooking
  • A Husband - Who I love, despite (or perhaps because of) his inability to get excited by 5 star hotels with giant pineapple-shaped chandeliers, my carefully manicured hands and feet, or 7-story shopping malls in Dubai
  • An Anniversary - Ten Years
  • A Comfort Zone - In no particular order, Nicky, Soph, Fi, Chlo, Amelia, Sheryl, Jo, Becs, Sarah (my shout Wednesday at the Yachtie)
  • A Holiday - On Safari in Kenya
  • A Computer - On which I spend too much time, case and point

And for 2012 I have…

  • A Hope - That I would Be Good
  • A Mission - To understand that to be a good mother/person/wife, I need to spend more time doing, and less time talking
  • A Goal - To read books at the same pace at which I buy them
  • And A Wish -To Write.  Full stop.

A Christmas Holiday

Not a Christmas holiday, but a holiday from Christmas.  We’re in a Muslim country, after all.  But I’m quite happy about it - the normal end of year madness is occurring out there, elsewhere.   We’re not queuing up in Kirk Caldie’s for 90 minutes to sit with a tired, worn out old man in a faded red suit and fake white facial hair, after getting rammed in the back of the knees by a dirty push chair with a terrified baby inside it (“Oh, I’m so sorry”, says the mother - no she’s not).  The radio isn’t playing Snoopy’s Christmas three times a day.  Pine needles are not getting stuck up the vacuum cleaner.  I can’t even find a leg of ham in this town (unless I’m in the know about where to locate prohibited pork products ), much less worry about budgeting for the cost of it.  We’re quietly counting the days down til the 25th of December - which, here in the U.A.E, will dawn a normal 9 to 5 working day just like any other.  A holiday from Christmas, how nice. 

And the other reason a break from Christmas is welcome, is because I don’t need another one so soon - I remember last year like it was only yesterday.  Waiting with bated breath for the Cuzzies to arrive from Levin; our tear-streaked faces pressed to the window pane, tree wilting, cream melting, even the presents looked wistful - would they make it, would they?  Their car battery had just died (for the 15th time that year) and it couldn’t be jump started.  Not even for Christ’s sake. 

Does anyone know where to find a new battery on Christmas morning in Levin?  And would you know how to install it even if you found one?  While houses up and down the country opened presents, clinked champagne glasses, fried bacon by the open window, my swift-thinking, determined, sister-in-shining armour Sarah Yates, took Christmas into her own hands.  She left her 4 young children at home, alone with each other and strict instructions, then pushed her bike out onto the empty streets and proceeded to ride from one closed petrol station to another.  Finally, on the outskirts of town, she found one that was open.  One battery in stock.  Would it fit the precise dimensions of the old one?  Take a risk.  Juuuust enough money in the bank to pay for it, which let me assure you, is no accident of fate or good fortune, rather testament to the astute preparations of a lady who is always ready to catch life’s curve balls. 

“HhhheeEEE YAAH!”.

Sarah returned home the same way she came, by bike with back pack, and we will forever wonder how it is that she balanced the enormous weight of that battery on her shoulders without falling or faltering once.  The kids were at the door when she arrived. If anyone was nervous, no-one let it show.  Hand me that wrench, she must have said.  Out came the old battery.  In went the new one.  Miracle.  It fits! ‘Single Mother’ needs a new title - something shiny and brilliant, that reflects the depth and diversity of the skills of brave women such as this.  With a slap of her now greasy black hands, Sarah dumped the bonnet, loaded the kids, applied mascara in the rear-view mirror (or so I like to imagine), and burned rubber all the way to our house in Wellington 2 hours away.  

When we finally saw their car pull into the driveway, Christmas day last year, I knew there’d never be another Christmas to compete with this one.  Not for a long time.  We ran outside, a mass of kids, aunties and uncles, laughing and crying, hugging and dancing.  Christmas is not about Santa, Snoopy or Pork.  It’s about family.  And this year, they’re not here.

So A Christmas Holiday?  Sure, why not.  I think I’ll even get takeaways (delivered of course) for dinner.

National Day mania!! Celebrating Forty Years of the UAE - with absolute gusto.

A collection of photos taken while out and about in the city (this is where I rollerblade along the Corniche) plus a couple of desert shots from our recent trip to Al Ain, and finally, a Dubai boat trip - passing the ever famous Palm Jumierah from the sea.

This is an area known as the Green Mubazzarah in Al Ain, a city 2 hours or so from Abu Dhabi (the birth place of founding father of the UAE, Sheikh Zayed).  It’s really quite incredible - rocky desert with (thanks to some carefully laid irrigation systems) a serious green belt running right through it.  

Cormac learning to play Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Bobbie discusses her first marriage proposal.  After I stopped rolling she conferred with me about Abdullah’s intention to marry both her AND Lamees “he’s not allowed two wives, is he mummy?”.  

“Weellll, technically”, I said, “In this country….”

Malcolm’s due back from New Zealand tomorrow, after three enviable weeks soaking up the World Cup atmosphere at home.  However this video appears to suggest he’s been up to a little more than just that…. sorry, I can’t help you with a translation.  Let’s just hope it’s all positive!

Local news coverage shows the official visit of HH Sheikh Abdullah bin Zayed Al Nahyan meeting with New Zealand Prime Minister John Key and Foreign Minister Murray McCully, accompanied by Malcolm Millar, Ambassador to the UAE (October 2011).

5inabus becomes 9inabus.  We are now the proud owners of a family of 4 pet tortoises, two adults and two babies.  They are Lizzie and John, Hugh and Angie.  Small detail: they are likely to outlive us (average lifespan 120yrs… gulp)

Kenya: In words, not pictures

The reason I love videos and slideshows backed by soundtracks is that they make the chaos that is family life seem so much more exciting than… well, than it really is sometimes.  Which is a good thing - I’m all for remembering the good bits.  Kids fighting in the back seat of the car?  Much better with the volume removed.  Moving countries once, twice, three times?  It looks like a whirlwind of excitement with a punchy song to accompany all those sad photos of boxes arriving and departing.

But Kenya…? well, Kenya is an exception to this rule.  Compiling the photos and choosing the music for the Kenya slideshows was a seemingly impossible task.  At every turn I felt like I was failing.  The Safari in the Masai Mara was fun; it was exhilarating; it was unexpectedly relaxing at times, and it was most certainly unforgettable - I’ve probably captured that in these videos.  But it was much, much more besides…The feeling you get when you see a Journey of Giraffes (that’s what they’re called) emerging on the horizon is not something you can package up for consumption, I don’t care how good the acoustic version of Toto’s “Africa” is.

 Likewise, a herd of Elephants crashing through the trees not meters away from where you’re standing is not something you can relive again in a mere photo.  In fact, I proved the futility of wielding a camera at all, when a Leopard

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