Author: Robin Chartier

A change of scenery

Two weekends ago, before I came down with strep for the third time, our family took a weekend getaway to visit our friends in Oman. No other reason than we missed them and wanted to spend time with their family. 
We picked the boys up from school early and headed to the airport. I’d say they’re all excited to go “home.”

We spent the night at their house and then all headed out the next morning to try out a new hotel that was in the process of being built while we lived in Oman. It’s about an hour south of Muscat, along the coast, near where we used to camp. 

Outside the city limits they set up these scarecrow roadworkers to hold warning signs about tight turns and unfinished roads ahead. They are pretty freaky looking because they look real until you get up close and see that they don’t have faces. 

Passing through a small town — goats in the road! 

I miss goats. 

and mountains.

We left the paved road for a dirt one and passed a herd of goats at the entrance to the hotel. They had found fine dining on the only grass for miles around. 

The hotel was remote, but 5 star all the way. This beautiful pool area was just the beginning.

After checking in, we got a ride to our room in golf carts. 

The hotel wraps around a harbor and marina so every room has a view of the water. I forgot to take photos of our room, but we had a private balcony overlooking the harbor, a full kitchen, huge living room, bedroom . . . we could have lived there for weeks. 

It was overcast, but still warm. We went walking down along the harbor to the beach while the kids all played cards in the room. (We had a room, our friends had a room and the kids had a room — a perfect way to vacation!)

We sat and watched a group of birds fishing for lunch: they would hover and then dive bomb into the water. It was amazing to watch. 

We rented bikes for the boys and they took off for an hour exploring the grounds. 

The perfect place to ride — wide roads, no cars. 

While they rode (the kids took turns on the bikes) the littles went for a swim

I didn’t swim. It was still too chilly for me. 

In the evening we ordered food for the kids in the room and we went to eat at the hotel restaurant. This view, buffet with amazing food (they had the charcoal grill set up for steaks, fish and chicken on the spot) and catching up with old friends. 
As we were finishing, the temperature dropped and the wind picked up. It felt like rain was coming. The charcoal grill was turned into a fireworks display as the breeze caught the coals and blew sparks up into the sky. We packed up and headed back to the room. It couldn’t have been better timing. Less than 30 seconds after we were safely inside, the sky opened up and there was a downpour. Caleb started shrieking and dancing on the balcony and was drenched in seconds. We’re desert people — rain is thrilling. 

The next morning the sun was out, the sky was clear, and it was a great day to relax by the pool. I took a photo of the 2-person pool lounger because I want to have my guy make me one, including the side drink table that slides in and out. 

God bless the MacFadyens — they were happy to play cards with my kids

I was happy to lie in the sun and not play cards with my kids

Intense games of Phase 10 and Go Fish

I relaxed with my knitting

Josh and Meels playing Go Fish

She got the card she wanted!

We left the hotel, headed back to our friends’ house and the kids did what they do best together: play around. This was a sandwich using all of the couch cushions. 

This is a Starbucks mug that I don’t have and probably won’t ever have. It’s the Pearl Roundabout — the site of the Arab Spring in Bahrain that has since been bulldozed. All aspects of this symbol are being wiped from Bahrain culture. They discontinued the coin that features the pearl, the decorative pearl arches have been removed from the bridges, and no more Starbucks mugs like this one. Mine features the building that looks like a sail — pretty, but I’d love to get my hands on one of these!

Too soon it was time to head home. Hello, Bahrain!

A perfect weekend away!

Technicolor

I was trying out an old movie the other day called Shop Around the Corner, the original version of You’ve Got Mail. It started playing and Camille, perched next to me on the couch said, “This show is too brownish. I don’t like it.” (me neither, girlie.)

Life has felt a bit brownish lately — though it seems a bit spoiled to admit that I’m writing this while waiting for our plane to take off to Oman. It’s the most “sameness” we’ve had in our military life. We’re finishing up our 3rd year here. Include the 15 months in Oman prior to that and it adds up to a lot of Middle East and a lot of sand. Part of it could be that life doesn’t change much from month to month, especially not this year. We’ve been sweating in January and February which makes these months feel like every other month. Same weather, same clothes, same, same.

I don’t want to leave, but I want to move. To do something different for a bit. Drive different streets and get lost somewhere green. For a while I’ve feel like life has been a lot like the beginning of The Wizard of Oz — the brownish part. The flat, Kansas, boring part. I think it’s mostly because of the lack of outdoor activities here: no bike paths, hiking trails, public beaches . . . nothing to climb that’s bigger than a small sand dune. All city, all the time.

I was remembering the other day how much I like driving on long open roads, sun shining in through my sunroof, and Abba or my other 80’s favorites blasting on the radio. Santa Barbara driving. Needless to day, I rarely like driving here where the rule of the road is don’t make eye contact and keep moving forward — it’s the only way to win the game of chicken.

I was trying to put my finger on what living here does to my brain and the closest I could come is it’s kind of like watching TV with a bunch of snow on the screen. A fuzzy picture, lots of effort to follow the story, and often there’s too much static to make it worth it. Inshallah living can easily become “why bother” living.

I write because I love telling stories, sharing information, and making people laugh, but I need a new setting to pull from. I’ve never been a fiction writer for a reason — all my made up places and names feel fake like there’s a neon sign flashing “THIS ISN’T BELIEVABLE” so I stick to what I’ve lived. I know I have a lot more adventures ahead of us in our last year, but it feels like I’m in a bit of a drought right now. Hoping I can wake up in Oz and see this place through new eyes.

Phil

“OK campers, rise and shine, and don’t forget your booties ’cause it’s coooold out there today.” 

Can anyone guess why that movie quote keeps running through my head today? Maybe if I add this clip, you’ll get the connection:

YEP, it’s Groundhog day here again (and again). I didn’t even know it was possible to get strep for a 3rd time in the span of about a month. It would almost be humorous if it weren’t so irritating/annoying/exasperating/embarrassing. My body has failed me. I’m clearly a walking germ capsule. I need to wrap myself in biohazard tape and volunteer my services to the government. Maybe they could use me to infect and wipe out ISIS.

I have a friend who told me that she kept getting strep to the point that she eventually learned to function with strep. As I was curled up in a sick coma the first two times I couldn’t fathom doing anything but pulling the sheets over my head, but what do you know, I might be getting used to this functioning at 50% thing. I didn’t bother going to the doctor today — I’m trying all the natural remedies possible instead: Emergen C immune booster drink, fermented cod liver oil, a concoction called “cold kicker tea” which is a fancy name for garlic, onion, vinegar, chile pepper and some other stuff all brewed together, an hour in the sun (to boost my vitamin D), homeopathy pellets and of course my standby of Motrin every 6 hours. Add in some tea and honey and I think I’ve covered all my bases. Yeah, I’m desperate.

I felt bad today, but not as if I was going to die like the previous 2 times. If it weren’t for Google telling me that I might suffer long term heart or kidney damage from untreated strep I would be perfectly fine waiting it out. We’ll see what tomorrow brings. I just pray that I can kick this thing before our trip to Paris at the end of the month.

My sickbed buddy — she tested negative for strep yesterday, but we’re still waiting for the final results from the doc. Of course I started feeling my strep symptoms coming back after we had left the clinic. Any and all suggestions for natural or woo-woo remedies are welcome. I’ll try anything. 

Wild Kingdom

When Caleb yelled, “Mom! You have to come here!!!” I yelled back, “No I don’t! I don’t need to see what score you got on your video game! Just tell me!” He came to the top of the stairs and yelled down, “No! Zeki caught a bird! In the house!” He was right. I did need to see that. 
I came upstairs to see a carpet of feathers covering the floor. Caleb pointed toward Camille’s play tent: “He’s in there.” I gently pulled back the tent flap to see a fat, self satisfied cat snacking on a few feathers, with one paw casually laid on top of a bird carcass. 
The bird’s neck had been broken. As if to show off, Zeki drew the bird body in toward him and wrestled it to defeat once more.  

There was a lot of screaming and many cries of “GROSS!!!” along with “My cat is a MURDERER!!”  to go with Camille’s tears. 
 

Once Zeki had had his way with the bird body I delicately grabbed it by one wing (as everyone else ran the other way) and carried it outside to the trash. 

I was stopped by Caleb on the way down the stairs. He rain up with his iPad and said, “Hold on! I need to take a picture of the bird. I told K (skype girl) that I would take a picture of it and put it on Instagram.” Say what now? My 10 year old has an Instagram account?!! I decided it was better to discard the dead bird before dealing with my Instagram dilemma. When dad is out of town it’s always one crisis after another . . .

birdmurder is hard work

by request

Just for you, Carrie. Dog agility class is kind of like obedience class, but you teach them to run through tunnels, go over jumps and weave through poles. It’s like enrolling your dog in sports camp except you have to participate right alongside them.

We started with dog obedience this fall. My friend who teaches the class has four dogs of her own and owns an agility training school back in the US. She is an excellent dog trainer and as part of our basic class she pulled out her jumps and tunnels and we played around with them for a bit. When she started up an agility class we jumped at the chance to join in. Since Micah is a very athletic dog, he has no problem executing the moves, it’s more a matter of figuring out what motivates him (chasing moving objects, food, praise) and learning how to direct him with hand signals and my voice. 
It’s great to get his mind working and to give him a “job” to do. His confidence has improved, he’s less anxious, and he gets along great with the other dogs in the class. When he sees me grab his black bag that holds his leash, water and treats, he knows it’s time for class and he almost wiggles out of his skin as waits for me at the front door. It’s one more thing to add to my schedule, but I see a big payoff from it. If we were stateside I’d love to do some more serious agility with him and see what he’s capable of. 
This is NOT what Micah and I look like (We’ve chained together 2 jumps, a tunnel and the weave poles and he’s super slow on the poles), but it’s fun to see what these dogs can do.