Tales from the Gael

I think I have joined the lost generation that now stares fixedly at their iPads or smart phones, lost in another cyber world of games and animations. The real world is an annoying list of interruptions that make me have to put down the screen and go out and talk to people. John is right, I am a sad git. The latest is the new Apple Ap called Hooked on Words. From 100 Scrabble-type letters you have to make words, and get the highest score possible. I struggled and struggled until finally I made a score of 929! What with that and trading and breeding coy carp on the Pocket Pond 2 game, a game of True or False, and Scrabble with the computer, there is not enough time for anything else.

Quilting of course is still high on the agenda, and I have almost finished Noah’s Ark and the I Spy one. I have started other projects, and this weekend I almost gave up completely. I went along to a 2 day workshop run by a Canadian expert called Martha Schellingerhoud who had flown over to Doha specially.

The first night she gave us a show of all her quilts…

We sat enthralled as she showed us the most amazing collection and then showed us the miniatures, often copies of the large ones. She told us how many hundreds of metres of fabric she used, how many hours each one had taken, and then told us which prize from what country she had been given. I came home, and nearly put my head in the oven, but did a few Hooked on Words instead.
Martha is a mathematical genius and was discussing eighths of inches and joining seams with silly tiny numbers so that the pattern could evolve naturally and super perfectly. I kept thinking to hell with that, what a galloping horse can’t see is not worth worrying about. She taught us how to quilt feathers and what not, but we shall see. After her class I have sort of gone off the whole thing.

I did go home to Scotland last month to visit my new and utterly beautiful granddaughter, Bonnie Faye. No one prepared me for the total coup de foudre that would occur.

Natasha is such a calm and gentle mum, totally on top of it all, and as a result Bonnie just responds to cuddles, and makes us all smile as she practises all her facial manoeuvres.

Eyebrows raised, a wobbly smile, a grumpy moment followed by a thoughtful pose. We walked in the spring sunshine, along the cliffs and over the Barrage to Cardiff, and Bonnie thrived on bumps and slept peacefully breathing in the fresh air. I was quite heartbroken to leave, but happily Skype allows me to see them all and monitor Bonnie’s progress.

The little interlude in Edinburgh was nice, and a bonus.

I weeded the garden, walked about, visited with friends and now I am back in Doha. The sea outside is deep turquoise and thankfully we have an unbroken view which no doubt will be sadly blocked as I see the cranes are in place for yet another high rise.

Next week we fly to KL, and then over to Kuching for the start of our Borneo Adventure Tour. John so needs a break and this will certainly be a change! First though he has a visit with the dentist, who will put in the titanium post, so hopefully the bone graft that he suffered will be strong enough to take it. It has been a tough few months for him.

Otherwise Doha is blooming, petunias are running riot and the sun is hot but still bearable. We will beach this weekend and maybe even be able to swim. It will be nice to give the eyes a break from the machine and the iPad, and just let my thoughts wander…

I am just about to go and get the plane for Wales…and this afternoon I shall meet Bonnie Faye, and I just can’t wait. Her first week has flown, and Leo and Natasha have been absorbed with the new addition to their family, and worrying about feeding and bathing and what not, and finally after a lot of nagging they sent me a picture of them all out looking at the sea, and little Bonnie squinting into the sunshine. The pictures they sent are all locked into a flickr account, so I cannot share, but she is lovely, long legs and a pursed little mouth, and she makes squeaky bird like noises when I hear her on the telephone. Roll on 4pm when I shall see her at last.

This week for me has been good, time to catch up, have a rest from sewing, and just get used to being home. Spring is in the air, and snow drops are making fairy circles in the cathedral grounds.

One man seemed to think that the weather was positively balmy as he marched along the street in trousers and jacket but in bare feet. He did look odd, and it wasn’t as though he was a poor person. Maybe he was doing it for a charity? I followed him and snapped a pic, and felt like a woolly spy in my socks and shoes and coat and scarf. It was NOT a warm day.

The television has been bewitching me with all the wonderful variety. It is such a treat after the constant rounds of BBC World and CNN…and although I am as horrified as everyone about the disappearance of the Malaysian plane, it is nice to spend a whole evening with BBC 4 and watch Margot Fonteyn in the Sleeping Beauty, and then a documentary with the Spanish leading ballerina with the Royal Ballet, Tamara Rojo talking about the difficulties of dancing both the black and white swan in Swan Lake.

She was so amazing and I didn’t even know she existed. I read about her and her list of achievements were like a small novelette. Then I read about how she danced with a burst appendix, then her bunion blew up to the size of a tennis ball, and she had it operated and then back she goes on to her toes and leaps about with her beautiful face as serene as though she had just had a bubble bath. I sat up nicely when I was watching. I tried not to think about my knee that I grazed whilst kneeling on the floor when I accidentally crushed the TV channel changer and gouged a small hole. I tried to be stoic and not wince when I walked.

Before I left I did a lot of work on the ‘I spy’ quilt, and I must say I am pleased with it. Also did a lot on Noah and finally finished the bunnies for Bonnie.

It is good having a rest, and since I have been home I have spread all the quilts I have made out, so that they can get an airing, and they really transform the room into a colourful yurt as you might see in Outer Mongolia.

I see Ricky won Crufts…such fun.

I did dip in and out of the programme to view the proud owners in an assorted collection of shoes, galloping along beside their dogs. Paton with silver buckles seemed quite the thing for the toy breeds, and brogues for the sportier rescue dogs. The judge always wore her sensible flats. I remember back when we had an Afghan hound called Sabah, I had visions that I would show her off and spent hours imagining what to wear. Should have spent more time training her, as she was just hell bent in rounding up the neighbour’s sheep and could run like the blooming wind. She soared over the fence we built to keep her in, then finally she had Iain’s sheep all in a tight ball one day, but one managed to escape and so she bit it quite savagely and so that was that…she had to go.

She was a night mare though, loved running in the sand and the bracken and I spent hours and hours trying to comb out half the country side from her coat. She had to go, she was a menace to sheep, so I never did make the show ring. But if I had, I think a nice pair of red wellies might have suited her personality!

Now…on on to Cardiff and granny duties!

The stork arrived!

Posted on March 2, 2014 by gaelharrison

Wonderful news, Bonnie Faye Nicholson arrived on Thursday 27th February! All is well, and Granny Gael is over the moon!

Saw her yesterday on Skype, and she is so pretty. Natasha looks wonderful, and Leo so proud.

I shall write more when I have seen them. I fly back to the UK tomorrow.

Such happy news.

It’s getting to that time of day, the light has almost gone from the sky, and the garden is a mass of dark shapes. It is only 4 o’clock, and winter without the sparkle of Christmas is not such a jolly time. Mind you I am glad the tree is down, and the house is tidy and calm. All that clutter was beginning to annoy me. Today is the epiphany, the day commemorating the arrival of the three Kings to the baby Jesus.

I went to church this morning, and listened to the minister telling us how irritated he gets when people  say to him, ‘This  must be your busy time!’ and he reflected  how we all sit back on Christmas day, after the food has been eaten, the presents exchanged and we all sigh, ‘Phew, that’s it for this year.’ And yet…it really was just the beginning. The babe was just born, and only now the Kings have arrived. Years ago, I had to learn by heart, T.S. Eliot’s ‘Journey of the Maji’

‘A cold coming we had of it,

Just the worst time of the year

For a journey, and such a long journey:

The ways deep and the weather sharp,

The very dead of winter.’

We did brave the icy wind on Christmas Eve to go to St Mary’s for the Midnight Mass. There were over a thousand people, and I was bemused with the incense and the treble voices of the choir boys, and the pomp and self-importance of it all. Beside me two girls suddenly let rip and sang the descant with all the force of two Divas…I was reduced to childish hysterics, and couldn’t sing for laughing. It always happens in church…the only good laugh you get nowadays. It was a far cry from the simple stark purity of the church in Glenelg, with its blue carpet and white walls, and only the pulpit and the lectern for distraction.

Last night I laughed at Dave Allen, that wonderful Irish comedian, who mocked the hypocrisy of the church with such wonderful irreverence. The sketches and jokes were spot on, about priest and nuns and what not. But it didn’t stop me going to day, and struggling with the organ as I tried to reach the high C, the chords in my neck twisting up like ropes, and I could barely squeak. This was quite a blow as I had been so uplifted by Handel and his Messiah on the 2^nd, imagining myself as part of the choir,  listening to the sopranos soar above the roof off the Usher Hall. I have a sore throat now from all my strangulated efforts this morning, no descants for me to show off with, no pretty black outfit to stand and sing Hallelujah  in, it has all been quite a journey of self-awareness. I shall just have to warble alone.

Family time was good on the Day. Natasha and Leo had journeyed up from Wales, braving the rain and floods and Gerry and Cathal breezed in from South Queensferry and their new home, and we all ate and drank and it was good.

Everything was harmonious until John produced the game of Risk…then we saw everyone’s true colours…I had never played before so naively claimed the whole of Asia with one little soldier in each country bravely defending all the borders. (Big mistake.) John and Leo fought for Africa and the Americas, and Natasha hung on to Europe. Evil Leo, charged on, with his million troops and behaved like Napoleon. I ran off and left Asia to its fate, and had a bubble bath instead.

Natasha and I had a fun shopping day in John Lewis….the new baby now has a large fashion range of outfits for all occasions and a bassinette and a bath! Tasha doesn’t have long to go now, it is all getting quite exciting.

New Year was fun, we saw in the Bells at the West End Bar, and sang Auld Lang Synge with other revellers and outside the sky was wild with fireworks, and explosions and then John and I came home and had another ‘wee dram’ and decided to take a few ‘selfies’ in the sitting room, which are just too terrible to show.

A New Year, and I think it will be quite different from previous years. I did do the Fortune Telling Cards, the Tarot and the Chinese Sticks, and there was no doom or gloom, but I feel as though there is a shift in our plates, a change of wind as in Mary Poppins, an adjustment of the fine balance of my world.

Lang may all your lums reek.

(I hope your chimneys smoke for a long time)

My last day in Doha before I fly back to the cold. It is actually ‘fresh’ here and the beach is now a place for long walks and the playground of the kite surfers. Still unbelievably beautiful, and after a 10km walk in bare feet, we come home braced and fit with very pink lungs.

The run up to holiday time is in full swing, and I have enjoyed meeting with my various friends;

eating Rose’s amazing morning teas, drinking mulled wine at the book club get together, having the sewing diva’s lunch at Pixi’s,

being amongst the masses at the Tuesday Ladies Group lunch where the full turkey spread was served. That night I had a carrot for dinner and left John to his own devices. (egg and chips) Because of my hiatus hernia troubles I have avoided all fats and pastry so feel OK, and of course Pam and I had the final ‘game’ of the season. She plied me with 2 glasses of fizzy first, and promptly beat me, with no trouble, especially as I scored 3 home goals. Oh the shame. Thank God there wasn’t a gallery of spectators!

John and I did decide to be tourists for once. The state mosque tour was interesting…led by a born again muslim called Dominic from Luton. He had a long straggly beard, elfin ears and a too short dish dash. But he was funny and entertaining and we were there for the evening prayer which was interesting. The ladies were ushered upstairs and were hidden behind the wooden lattice. It was quite nice and actually quite peaceful. Outside the sky was on fire.

The mosque itself was a bit disappointing. With all the Qataris’ money I thought it would have been more special. The paving outside has already started to crack and the plaster on the minaret was blotchy and uneven. It wasn’t a patch on Muscat which had the shimmery Carrera Marble from Italy and the exquisite carpet from Isfahan. Anyway all the women were robed and I felt quite a wally in my abaya. Didn’t realise I had such a fat face. John was confused as he couldn’t find me…had to keep searching for my flip flops! Anyway at the end they made me a gift of an abaya so it will be good for future murder mystery parties!

After our stimulating walk on Friday we decided to go and see ‘Maman’. A tribute to the artist’s mother.

Louise Bourgeois likened the spider with metaphors of spinning and weaving and nurturing and protection. Her own mother was a weaver and she also repaired tapestries, before sadly dying far too young. Louise created this huge spider, 30ft height and 33ft wide with 26 marble eggs in the egg sac. The original is in the Tate Modern in London, and the other permanent fixtures are in Canada, Bilboa, Japan, South Korea and here in the Conference Centre in Doha. It was quite amazing.

There is a definite feel of change in Doha. I think it is coming from the new Emir, and also there is a lot of concern about the workers’ plight due to the Amnesty International’s report. There are so many young men dying needlessly from lack of water, heat and bad food. Meanwhile some of the constructions they are part of building are disgustingly irrelevant. There are 11 luxurious houses being built of man-made hills that John and I have watched grow over the last 4 years. On these sand hills they have forced grasses and flowers and trees to grow. Anyway we can have our thoughts, and the men suffer the frustrations of working here, but really in the end, we are of no consequence. With Dubai winning the Expo 2020 a lot of people are considering other options. Especially since the latest rumour has ripped through the expat society. ‘They’ say the new Emir is shutting down the booze souk. This is deadly serious, so John went out on Monday, during his lunch break to stock up till July (when we leave). I was concerned that there might be a bottle of brandy amidst his vast order of whisky but he thought of everything! Phew!

The Hyatt is now dry, and the Intercontinental is not serving out by the pool, so it all looks dodgy. The schools have been told to close on the 12th (a week early) as they want the roads less busy as FIFA are visiting and they don’t want the officials to see the true traffic chaos!! The IB students are at a critical time, as are the A level students. Not a good time to curtail the school year. Of course it would be fine for me in Grade 1! Yippeee I would say!

I have packed up the sewing machine and tidied ‘my’ room, so farewell from Doha for this year. Christmas is calling and I have a feast to prepare…two married daughters and husbands are coming, I can’t wait! Deck the halls, Fa la la la!