Manholia

Manholia


I was walking yesterday with hubby in down town Amman. We always have great fun there, this time more than ever I noticed my fear of stepping on manholes! Strange I knew that but there is no place in town like down town with the number on manholes! It sounds silly but I innately avoid stepping on manholes. I remember as a kid we heard a lot of stories of kids falling in a manhole and I guess it got stuck with me. Come think of it parents most likely made these stories up.

Thinking of the post I made a search about manholes and fear off, not to my surprise I found an article mentioning the fear of manholes, they even gave it a name MANHOLIA.

It’s a silly thing. It's not like I cannot make myself step on one. It's just that without thinking I avoid stepping on them.

Selfish is good

Selfish is good

My best friend, nay my soul sister has given me some pearls of wisdom yesterday. I called her up complaining about something and after a long talk from my side and her just listening to the end, she talked me through the problem and the jest of what she told me is be selfish.

Well at first this may sound like something very negative, on the contrary this is very positive, it means take care of your own needs first then the rest of the world. When you are well yourself you will be more helpful to others. Now I know this very well and I may have even mentioned it sometime before, but I guess I needed to hear it from someone else.

I have this tendency to need to help every one around me, not being able to help them or change someone's mood (for which I have a natural talent) makes me feel like a looser. This is one aspect I need to work on, at times it comes easy and I do put myself first, but I guess there is some kind of vanity in me that refuses to believe that there is something I attempt to do and fail! It’s a bit complex, I guess some of it is wanting to help others, but a part is that I refuse to believe that there are things even I cannot change.

So in some cases selfish is good !

Tamara in the kitchen

Tamara in the kitchen

Yesterday was yes the election day ( AKA holiday), but also known as my first day to cook in my new home. My mother in law is so sweet and is keeping us in a prolonged honey moon and thus she still cooks for us.

So yesterday since I was at home I decided I will cook for every one. The dish of the day was ' Kabseh" I know how to cook a great kabseh, but this is not a cooking post it’s a Tamara cooking post.

As you will notice at first I had time to take photos of the steps of cooking, but as time went by and my rusty skills stood in the way, I forgot to take at least one photo of the end Product! Cooking something that takes a lot of preparation time, Calls for special kitchen time management, and business planning skills that in my case have become so rusty.

Well at least the end product was yummy !every one enjoyed it and I passed the cooking test with flying colors, did not pass my blogging about cooking test though, but I'm sure there are many other occasions to come.

Happy elections\ cooking day!

Words my friends

Words my friends

Words are live entities that I mold to vessel my ideas and beliefs, yet I pose not knowing what to say and where to start, which amazes me even more since I was never in loss for words, words actually are my friends and its common knowledge I can talk myself out of a death sentence.

I insist to be able to chisel a few words that people can understand and tell them all about how I feel … now I understand it’s the feelings part that is the problem, I can shape my ideas into words soft and powerful but my feelings when so powerful and overwhelming seem to be a challenge.

All my life I felt that my words give life to my ideas, now I see that my words may imprison and mutilate my feelings, yet again I'm persistent to say my peace. Intro or no intro I still feel helpless …wordless when I want to breath out all my feelings….with you life has a new taste …color and new feelings have been born that my old tools stand helpless to shape.

How can words describe the feeling I have, when I open my eyes to see that what woke me up was your gentle look, as you lay there looking at me waiting for me to wake up….how can they my friends give a visible entity to the feelings I get when you softly kiss my hand just because I preparing you dinner… or when I feel protected by you…loved by you.

Sitting here in surrender I say ….words may age old friends you are not as powerful as I thought you to be.