Al-Azhar Park

On Saturday afternoon we headed off to al-Azhar park for a final visit. Apparently we’re on a farewell tour of sorts—we need to find something new to do! Al-Azhar park is one of the most beautiful locations in Cairo but it’s such a pain to get to that we rarely go.

Miriam conquers the stairs

Yesterday Miriam crawled up the stairs to the play area. Granted there are only two steps…but, still! She can’t even crawl on flat surfaces yet—she’s still just army crawling—so what in the world is she doing crawling up stairs?!

It’s probably because that’s where all the (age-inappropriate, taboo) toys are kept. Anyone can do anything with the right motivation.

 

Today she fell down the stairs for the first time. She was not happy about it but it didn’t stop her from trying again. She’s brave.

Islamic Cairo…again

We decided to go on an adventure today since we’re mostly feeling better and since Andrew has finished with all his coursework and everything. Of all places to visit we decided to go to the Khan. I don’t know how many times we’ve been there, but that old bazaar in Cairo is huge so there are plenty of places we’ve yet to explore.

First we found a brass shop called Three Crazy Brothers that our friends recommended to us. We really had no idea where to find it but everyone knew where it was and pointed us, surprisingly, in the right direction so we found it without a problem. 

Danish Dessert

My family enjoys a Danish dessert called rødgrød. I don’t know why or how we got hooked on it, but I’m pretty sure my Grandma would make it and I know that my mom and aunt like to make it, too. Since we aren’t Danish and don’t actually know how to make it, we buy mixes from the store—Junket’s Danish Dessert. The Junket brand originated in Denmark so we feel pretty safe that our Danish Dessert comes with an authentic Danish taste. We drizzle it on cake, mainly, but it’s good plain, too.

I know you can buy it in Utah, but I don’t think you can buy it in California because I remember taking my Auntie Arlene boxes of it. I can’t remember if you can get it in Alberta, because I remember my mom being really excited about being able to buy it in Utah.

She even sent me a couple of boxes to enjoy while in Egypt and last night Andrew made up a batch.

He had never had it before marrying me, but he likes it. He had never made it before, so after dumping in the powder and adding the water and stirring it over the burner for a while he began to get a little nervous.

“Ummm…what’s supposed to happen?”

“It should get clear, kind of like instant gravy…”

“Really? Because it’s not doing that. It’s getting see-through.”

“Andrew, clear means see-through.”

I’d like to tell you that the conversation ended there, because that’s a pretty funny ending, but instead we talked semantics for the rest of the evening. While we enjoyed some rødgrød, of course.

Andrew argued that clear means colourless, not see-through, but as we can see from Merriam-Webster* it definitely also means see-through.

Entry Word: clear
Function: adjective
Meaning: easily seen through

Clearly clear means see-through. It’s, like, right in the definition. And like the words translucent and transparent, it implies an absence of cloudiness, unlike opaque. So, there, Andrew. Clear and see-through are synonymous.

* While trying to decide on the way to spell Miriam’s name, we never once considered Merriam. Maryam came up, and Miryam, and a few other traditional spellings, but never once Merriam. How cool nerdy would it have been to name our baby after a dictionary?

Driving

While riding home from al-Azhar park this evening, Rachel looked up at me and said, “I want to drive a taxi in Egypt.”

“Here we are,” I answered as smoothly the genie from Aladdin's lamp, “Driving in a taxi…and we’re in Egypt. Your wish is my command.”

“But I’m not driving!” she shouted.

Khamsin

This morning when I got up once I was greeted by a sickly, eerie orange glow streaming through our bedroom window instead of what I might normally expect at…excuse me while I fumble around to find the cell phone, which, yes, is in bed with us…six o’clock in the morning.

Sometimes people are shocked with how long I can “sleep in.” But seriously, folks, specifically those who have accused me of leisurely sleep-ins, mothers don’t have sleep schedules (at least, this one doesn’t, at least, not lately) and, therefore, cannot technically sleep in.

I got up at six, fed Miriam, and then went out onto the balcony to take pictures of the festering sandstorm.

Butterflies and ickies

A few nights ago we went to a farewell dinner for some friends who will be moving to Rwanda in a few weeks. Sister Knapp ordered Thai food, which I was excited about. Andrew wasn’t quite as excited about it because in Thailand people eat vegetables. I thought dinner was superb and it was fun to visit with some of the branch members.

Rachel was running around playing with her friends and having a great time. Then she ran over to me, said something, and started vomiting. She was on the couch so I lifted her off the couch while she was spouting out vomit and put her on the floor where she continued to vomit. It just kept coming and coming.

Two years, ten months, five days

Dear Rachel,

You, my friend, have been driving me crazy the past few months. Like absolutely bonkers, that kind of crazy. I’ve been using up all my patience on you and then some. Today I think I figured out why.

I think being an older sister is hard for you and I think that because today I took you out. Just you. And it was fine.

It was better than fine. It was great.

Seven Months

Dear Miriam,

You’re seven months old today and, frankly, you’re miserable. I’m sorry. Who knew seven months was such a hard age to be?

You hate that new tooth—you know the one. Bottom, front, left. It just broke through a day or two ago and I thought your mood would improve after that. But it hasn’t. You’re still not sleeping well and you spend most of your time trying to grind it away. I’m sorry, baby, but it isn’t going anywhere. In fact, you’re going to get more. It wasn't my idea, okay?

Homicidal Midnight Welder

Very late last night—at around 2:30 AM—we woke up to a loud grinding noise. Bright flashes of light filled our bedroom. Then everything went dark.

I grabbed Andrew’s hand.

“What was that?!” I whispered.

It didn’t help matters that we’ve been staying up far too late watching LOST.