Jenyfer Matthews

The party was a roaring success – ROARING being the operative word. Who knew that six little boys could be so LOUD.

In spite of the fact that all but one TV deprived little boy quickly grew bored with the video and the electricity went out for a while as we were eating cake, in the end they all seemed to have a good time and with minimal damage to my house. I think we were all pleased.

Wanted to share a picture of my son’s birthday cake. He specifically requested a “fruit cake” which to him meant white cake topped with whipped cream and kiwi (his favorite fruit of all). I added pomegranate seeds for color. In addition I made some cupcakes with whipped cream and sprinkles for kids who didn’t like the looks of the fruit. Did my son eat the cake? Nope – he wanted a cupcake like the rest of his friends.

Oh well – it left more for the parents who attended. And it was a tasty cake, if I say so myself!

The men who work at our vegetable stand are so, so nice. They are always very pleasant to deal with and very hospitable. They love to feed me whatever they happen to have around when I drop by.

Now, out of necessity, I am usually quite cautious about where and what I eat here in Cairo. It’s easy enough to eat something that hasn’t been handled properly and then spend the next week running for the bathroom. The child of one of my neighbors has had giardia twice in the last few months. I wash my produce with either a scrub brush and dish soap or give it a long soak in vinegar and water before we consume it. I even wash my eggs in water with a dollop of bleach (you would too if you saw some of the shells! Yuck!)

In spite of all my caution, it is nearly impossible for me to reject the food offered to me by the vegetable guys. Sometimes it’s a cookie or cake that his wife made. Sometimes he shares his breakfast of foul and baladi bread (fava bean mash) On occasion he’ll pick up a piece of whatever fruit is in season to give me a taste, in an effort to make a sale.

Once he cut a plum in half and offered half to me and half to another woman who was in the shop at the same time. I took my half – in spite of having seen him polish the fruit on his galabeya and then cut it with a knife of questionable cleanliness. The other woman refused. She didn’t even take it from him to be nice to hold on to it for discreet disposal later. When she turned her back, the man made a mad face and waved her off with his hand. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings so I ate my half in front of him.

My acceptance of his food makes him happy – but it also encourages him to share more and more. I have survived my encounters with him thus far, but his week he upped the ante. He offered me milk fresh from his cow. He assured me that he had washed his hands and the cow’s udders before he milked it. He poured the remains of the milk – the last he had – into a small glass mug. There was no way for me to take it with me, and no plausible reason sprang to mind for why I couldn’t drink it. So I did.

I tried to get my husband to share it with me, but he refused, pointing out that one of us had to survive to raise the children. The milk was warm and sweet, like no milk I’ve ever had before. I asked if it had sugar added to it but he said no, straight from the cow. I had no way of knowing whether the fact that it was warm meant that it had been boiled to sterilize it or if it was the cow’s residual body heat I was noting.

I waited a few days to write this just to see if indeed I would survive. So far, so good.

Now, off to clean my balcony now that the rain has stopped. And then to prepare for the party. With six little boys in the house, I have decided it would be prudent to roll up my large Afghan carpet. Since my son requested it to be a “pajama party” I will throw a comforter out on the floor instead and several bed pillows. They won’t be sleeping over but it’s all about the proper ambiance, right?

When was the last time you used one of these? Not the most modern of devices but it sure came in handy to keep me on schedule making birthday cakes (along with a gas stove) on a morning when the electricity keeps going out….

It does pour!

It’s a really good thing that I didn’t plan to have my son’s party outside after all – we had actual thunderstorms all night! Rain in Egypt is rare enough but actual thunderstorms are practically unheard of. People who have been here much longer than me have told me that they haven’t seen weather like this in a decade.

You’d think that a good rain would be cleansing but in fact things here are messier still after the rain. All of the dust that has accumulated on the leaves in the trees and on just about every other flat surface you can imagine washes off and lands on surfaces below. My balcony is a mess. The dust from the thatched roof has collected in the large puddles on the floor – and of course the floor slants away from the drain pipe. I’ll have to get out there with my giant squeegy-on-a-stick when it finally stops.

I can only imagine what the back garden looks like. Yes, the rain has made having an inside party a more attractive option all the way around…

Edited to add:
I had to put off some morning errands because of the rain. I didn’t relish walking around in it and apparently taxis are scarce when it rains because few have functional windshield wipers! And the driving becomes even worse after a rain. There is no sewer system so picture streets with pond-like puddles – and drivers not accustomed to driving in rain. A good day to stay in…

One more birthday to go.

I won’t be doing much writing this week. My children are home from school on vacation so there is much noise and demands for food going on. Also, I need to get organized for my son’s birthday party on Thursday.

I wanted to do something a little different than last year – where I hauled all my supplies out to the large communal garden in the back yard and let everyone run amok. True, it has the advantage of keeping the fuss out of my house, but the downside is that I feel obligated to invite and feed everyone in the building (children and adults) and carry all of my supplies down four flights of stairs. (Did I say that already? It’s a LOT of stairs!) I did that for my son’s party last fall and daughter’s party in the summer and frankly, I’d like to move away from that sort of party-extravaganza. Keep things small and simple.

Instead, I told my son we’d invite over six of his best buddies for pizza, popcorn and a video. They could wear pajamas, we’ll turn out the lights and have a Scooby-Doo marathon. It will satisfy his lust to constantly have all his friends over to play as well as keep things small and manageable. Right?

I’m beginning to get scared though. If everyone comes – and it looks like they will – we are talking about having seven 4 & 5 year old boys in my house at one time. My living room will be ground zero for all of the noise and mess of the party. I felt pretty confident about this plan until a few of the other mothers looked at me like I was completely nuts – and advised me to put away my breakables.

I’ve invited the other mothers to hang around and enjoy our balcony during the party. There is one mother I am particularly interested in hi-jacking. She’s a kindergarten teacher.

Wish me luck.

At least I’ve already got his present: a pair of Hot Wheels roller blades and an assortment of Cars cars. His two fondest wishes.

A friend sent this to me recently and it was just too funny not to share!

A Mom’s Song by Anita Renfroe (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VlY8STkhopc)

“Freedom of the Press, if it means anything at all, means the freedom to criticize and oppose.”
George Orwell, British novelist and essayist (1903-1950)

“Freedom rings whenever opinions clash.”
Stevenson, Adlai E. American statesman (1900–1965)

Banned book week might officially be over but I’m still thinking about it. The fact that lists like this exist is disturbing, no doubt about it. But on the flip side, at least the books are out there, available to anyone who wishes to read them. Depending on where you live in the world, you can still get your hands on them and read them – or not. Having the right to pick and choose what you do and do not wish to read is the real issue.

As an author (or an artist or a chef or an architect…) it can be a little daunting to put your work out there for the world to see. You want everyone to love your creation as much as you do. Unfortunately that isn’t going to happen and you have to be prepared for people to say so, to anyone who will listen. Whatever you do, you can’t please all the people all of the time and you’ll drive yourself crazy if you try.

There are incredibly popular authors and whole genres that I don’t care for. My husband likes coconut and I can’t stand it. Do I think that the authors / genres should be banned? Coconut eradicated? Of course not – but neither do I want to drink a pina colada. There’s something out there for everyone. Just think how boring the world would be if we all liked the same things. Conformity is boring, variety is what keeps things interesting.

In a nutshell, if you don’t like it, don’t read it. But respect other’s right to 1) write what they wish to write about, 2) read what they wish to read, 3) express their opinion on the topic.

Come to think of it, those are principles that could be applied to blogs as well…

October is a busy month for me. Nearly all the men in my immediate family have birthdays in October – and my husband and my son are only a week apart. Fortunately I already have a present for my son. My husband is a little harder.

His birthday is tomorrow. As if it wasn’t hard enough finding a present for the man, I had to go to three different grocery stores just to find the sour cream I needed to make the cheesecake he has requested. I thought I was going to have to ask him for an alternate when I finally got lucky and found the only package of sour cream in the neighborhood.

As for a present, I think I got lucky there as well. My husband requested some Egyptian statuary. Should be easy, right? Thing is, he didn’t want just any thing, he has specific requirements. And what he wants doesn’t exist in our neighborhood. Fortunately he knows that. But I think he’ll like what I did find.

What do you think? Isn’t it handsome? What every man needs – a basalt canopic jar with an Anubis head lid. And at 25 lbs / 11 kgs it’s no trivial thing. (I had it delivered, of course!!)

And cheesecake too – what a lucky man!

I haven’t mentioned it lately, but I have actually been working pretty steadily on my current project. Only you know how that goes – all work and no play… Or maybe that’s just an excuse because I feel like taking a break for a few days.

I’m in a Martha-Stewart-sort-of-mood. I want to cook and catch up on little chores around the house that I’ve been letting slide. And I want to sew. Playing with my fabric is usually helpful when I’m at a stopping point in a project and need to collect my thoughts and let things stew. So that’s what I’m doing.

Yesterday I made fresh pesto from a pot of basil I have and banana muffins. Today I plan to make what my mother-in-law affectionately calls “junk” soup – you throw in whatever you have around the kitchen – along with some biscuits.

And I decided to whip up some Halloween pillow cases for my children using a simple pattern I ran across on the internet. Quick and easy but they should score me big mommy-points, don’t you think?

Everyone is off next week for the Eid-Al-Fitr holiday (the end of Ramadan) But when the children go back to school, my youngest will start going a full day. I’ll have two extra hours to myself and NO excuse not to get more done in a day!!

I bought a book this summer that I been seeing around for a while. The title amused me and I thought that perhaps it would be useful as research into the male psyche for my own writing. The fact that I’m also interested in sociology and wanted an excuse to buy it had nothing to do with it.

It’s called Why Men Don’t Have a Clue and Women Always Want More Shoes by Allan and Barbara Pease.

It was entertaining and interesting and fun – I expected all of that. What I didn’t expect was to find aspects of my relationship with my own husband outlined and explained.

Did you know that women keep a subconscious score card in their heads? And that for every little action (or non-action) they are adding or subtracting points from their partner’s overall score? And while men do things and forget about it, women never forget anything – the scorecard can go forever (okay, you probably knew that already!)

I wasn’t truly aware that I had a scorecard – or that OTHER women did too – but once it was pointed out to me it was so obvious. It explains why I get so aggravated when I’m seemingly invisible as I juggle all the mundane details of life, day in and day out. And why my husband expects huge pats when he helps out with the dishes or gets his own socks in the hamper – and why he is puzzled when I don’t give him those pats.

In the example they give in the book, men see the big picture and women pick at the details. He sees his job as going out to work every day and if he works long hours, it’s because he cares so much about his family. Women expect men to go out to work every day and if he works long hours she sees that as cutting into family time and laying all the responsibility for managing the details of home life on her shoulders, which she resents.

On the scorecard, a man would expect to be given bonus points for doing the dishes or working long hours or buying an extravagant gift on his wife’s birthday. In the woman’s mind, she give him only one point for having done what she expected him to do in the first place. If however he brings her a mug of soup when she’s sick in bed or brings home a chocolate bar for no reason then he gets bonus points for being thoughtful when she wasn’t expecting it.

And of course the scorekeeping is going to vary by woman and by what she as an individual finds to be thoughtful or important. It’s no wonder that men don’t have a clue. Even if someone explains the point system to them, how can they ever hope to win when the system is so arbitrary? I almost feel sorry for them.

But I still want my husband to read this book. I already know why I always want more shoes.