Sandstorms

I thought you might like to hear about the Coo sandstorms that have blown up in the past two months.

The first and most severe occurred while I was visiting Australasia, so I can only tell you about it by showing the photos and relaying the experiences of my friends while I was away. Friends described it as sudden, surprising and completely overwhelming. It occurred mid-morning and many didn’t know until they escaped the hospital at lunchtime and discovered that a massive amount of sand had descended upon Riyadh causing everything to have an orange glow, and people to struggle to breathe.

Last week, I experienced a sandstorm of my own. I’d been out shopping with a friend and we’d been waiting an unusually long time for Abu Majeed to come and collect us. Eventually he showed up and in a anxious panicked voice ordered us to get into the car quickly. I couldn’t understand why he was in such a rush, especially when he was late, but then he pointed over to the edge of the carpark and I could see a wall of sand blowing towards us rapidly. We just got the doors closed before it blew over us, swinging the car side to side with its force.


We drove home at approximately 20kmh. There were only a few cars on the road (very unusual for a city that has traffic jams almost 20h per day) and we saw one that had flipped over and another that had crashed into a pole. Rubbish, sand and people’s belongings were flying across the road at dangerous speeds and the card swung all the way home. We narrowly avoided driving into a tree that had fallen across the road and was virtually invisible due to the poor visibility.



I got home, removed my veil with a sigh of relief and walked upstairs to discover my bedroom was caked in a layer of sand almost 1cm deep in places. Leaving the window open had not been a good idea. My open laptop was covered in sand (perhaps to soak up any remaining red wine from my last accident with it!) and I could skid on the floor in the silky substance. I stripped my bed, remade it and left the mess until the next day!

A Family Wedding

It’s been a long time since I last blogged, and the more time that has passed, the less inclined I’ve felt to resume posting. I think it’s related to a fear that I’ve run out of things to write about since returning from a holiday to Australasia and recognizing that I’m no longer new or experiencing significant culture shock, two things that were simple to write about. So I’ll start with something simple; my trip home was fabulous!

It was far too short and frantic with trying to see everyone I possibly could in 3 days in Melbourne followed by 6 in NZ. I had barely enough time to buy all the coffee I could bring back without looking like I was hiding something illegal in my suitcase, barely enough time to cuddle my godsons as many times as they would let me, or to hear what has been happening with my brother and sister-in-law in London for 2 years, but long enough to lie still for 90mins while a lady attached longer eyelashes to my own. My time was prioritized well.

My brother’s wedding was the highlight (think laughter, love, nice wine, celebration, wine, Mum’s dress on fire, ambulance sirens, did I mention wine? family, union and lots of pictures). It was closely matched by being present to celebrate Dad’s 50th birthday along with most of Lower Hutt and Wellington. Paul’s decision not to give a speech became slightly lubricated and he decided that I could tell him what he should say in the speech. With no preparatory thought, it was easy. Dad is so gifted. He does well at all he does – his family, his marriage, his career and his faith. Our parents have given us a wonderful example for all three of us to strive for.

During a conversation my siblings, sisters-in law and I had about where we grew up, I verbalized a long-held observation that my brothers are generally more sensitive than I. They write the sappier cards, hug my parents more than I do, cry when they give speeches and have gorgeous in every way life-partners. My observation was supported nicely by Dad contributing that I was made of titanium. While I felt slightly bruised by the comment and a little defensive, I think my defense would have a titanium punch, so perhaps he’s right. So does titanium scare off men? I could provide my own jewelery! Just throwing it out there ☺