“We learn from failure, not from success!”

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Marhaba!

The winter months are well and truly behind us now – we hope. Unusual weather, here and wherever you might be, has given us rain, floods, more rain, amazing black clouds, some drizzle and some very strange fog.

FOG!

FOG!

Are these not some of the reasons we left dear old Blighty? Anyway, the sun has reappeared after a long, long spell of cloudy, damp weather and we bask in constant temperatures of 35 degrees C or more. Back to soaking up the sun to produce that leathery looking skin condition that resembles an old leather handbag. Talking of old bags…

It was bound to happen sooner or later. The house-maid was caught dipping into the Master’s chocolate box. A dastardly deed. An inexcusable crime. A misdemeanour with marching orders attached. Whilst the act might sound like some weird euphemism for something totally inappropriate and improper, it is not. Not what your thinking anyway. The Memsahib (the missus) was having none of it and a quick tally of our perishable goods brought more bad news; sticky fingers had ravaged our fish-fingers. The maid was instantly dismissed and we are back to doing our own ironing, cleaning, washing up and the making of beds. We wonder how we will cope but we struggle on. Sometimes exhaustion overtakes us and the front step is not swept for a day or two.

All in all, it was a recipe for disaster and a lesson well learnt. If you want something done, a house-maid is not the answer – do it yourself or coerce your partner into doing it for you with promises of  later gratification.

Our travels have been delayed by one broken suspension joint. There are suspicions that we have deliberately caused this to happen by taking our OFF ROAD 4 x 4 vehicle, well, off road. As we speak, the garage is making good the fault with replacement parts at no extra cost as it is definitely a warranty issue; ain’t that right guv? Once done we are preparing to visit the Northern Peninsula of Musandam, the famous ‘Fjords of Oman’. We’ll let you know.

Before all this, we went to enjoy a bit of culture at The Royal Opera House. Nothing too spectacular, just a matinee performance for the small one to enjoy.

Isn't that dress a little short

Too much knee (cleverly hidden by a small person to protect the shameful)

An eagle-eyed attendant noticed that some knees were on display, which is strictly forbidden, so a cover up had to be implemented on the double. I have my suspicions that it was more of a fashion faux pas but then what do I know? Whatever the reason, an appropriate form of dress had to be worn, and laughed at, before we could enter.

No knees!

No knees!

As it goes, a long, black robe hides a multitude of sins although my suggestion for the full-face veil did not go down too well. A man and his humour, eh? Plenty more where that came from…

Moving quickly on. A view of the inside of the Opera House gives some idea of its opulence. I might even be tempted with a bit of opera one day. The middle, lower box has been booked for a ballet performance of Romeo and Juliet (our aim is to see and, more importantly, be seen). It’s all about status you know.

money sumptuously spent

money sumptuously spent

Anyway, back to basics. Out intention to head up North has been further delayed by a little bother with the old banger – the car that is, not the wife. Guffaw! During the cars time in the garage the life had drained out of the battery and whilst as quick replacement would soon see us on our way, nothing happens very quickly here, so we waited and we waited. Dark clouds loom overhead as I write so the delay may be a fortuitous one after all. Hang on! A voice from the kitchen states, “It’s going to chuck it down!”. There you are then, straight from the horse’s mouth, the weather forecast for the immediate future. In the interim, there are lots of domestic issues to be getting on with – like preparations for the mad rush of rellies and friends who might visit us this summer – or not?

There really is so much to see and experience in this lovely country. The people are polite, friendly and helpful (unless they’re driving). They bear gifts of friendship and sharing. Like the fisherman friend who, after hearing of the delights of Pie, Mash, Stewed Eels and Liquor (that famous East End  and Sarf London fare), brought in an eel that he usually throws back into the sea. “You can make your own”, he said, ” have an eel” and presented a large cardboard box for opening.

What the hell...

What the hell…

I guess it’s some sort of sea-snake or moray eel type of fish thing?  Not too sure but having poked and prodded it for some time the executive decision was made to hoof it into the dumpster. And there it sat, in the blazing, midday sunlight, rotting and stinking to high heaven. Edible or not, it’s the thought that counts and that goes a long way in my book. I sincerely hope the next gift will be of a non-perishable nature;  hopefully a timepiece of some renown perhaps?

Every day is full of surprises. Some good and some highly questionable. Suffice to say, it’s never mundane.

For now, we wait for a break in the weather – it’s not actually raining yet, further confirmation that the car is fit for purpose and then we can muster up the motivation and summon all due determination to drive into the unknown once again. However, at the moment, the comfort zone is very comforting indeed!

Ma’a Salama!

 

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About The Flock on the Rock

DISCLAIMER: This blog is primarily about our life and our news in the Sultanate of Oman. It is the intention of this blog to stay within the laws of the Sultanate of Oman at all times. Any perception that this is not the case is due to an incorrect and/or inaccurate interpretation of the contents of this blog. I can be contacted at jagwhite2209(at)gmail(dot)com

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