The world will be grateful to know that I am relinquishing my status as being a Middle East expert and leaving them to stew in their own juices (so to speak). Two meanings of that phrase: stew (in your own juice) meaning: to think about or suffer the results of your own actions, without anyone giving you any help. Another helpful definition is: suffer anxiety or the unpleasant consequences of one’s own actions without the consoling intervention of others.
This was not a hasty decision but one taken from a sense of self preservation. Recent blogs have taken a rather strident position against at least two tyrannical rulers – in a rare moment of common sense (and fear) – it seemed a good idea to back off. People, have gotten killed speaking the truth against certain tyrants and I have no desire to join their ranks. So perhaps a study of how absolute power corrupts absolutely using examples from both sides of the fence – but, in the main it is back to my vulnerable, rather funny self.
It was two days ago that I had a wake up call. A wake up call definition: Wake up and smell the coffee definition is – to realize the truth about one’s situation : to become aware of what is really happening. The day began with the realization that I may have put myself in danger, that coupled with the futility of the entire situation and the ridiculous thought that I could make a difference. Suddenly something happened to my right arm – it was almost paralyzed coupled with a sensation of needles and pins. Attempted to call Personal Driver but made no contact with him. Replied to a text asking how I was doing – but had to be honest. Texted one of my physicians who told me to keep him in the loop (reassuring). Then called CPI and had a long conversation which put me at ease. The sensation left approximately two hours later. CPI sent a follow up email – I had told her about a telephone call from a certain young man.
She: He may grow up to be more handsome!
Hug a hot water bottle and Pun, have a good sleep and never forget how tuff you are.
Acres of hugs,
Me: What a wonderful idea! Your Always and Forever Friend, A.
So I followed her suggestion – went to bed early hugging a hot water bottle and my bunny (PUN stands for Pink Ugly Nose). Woke up in the morning in a determined mood deciding to abandon my Middle East obsession. Personal Driver was most happy at that decision, said he was thinking of telling me that for a couple of weeks, but was glad that I came to the decision on my own. It was off to Marin for a blow dry with Kim, went to the storage facility retrieving some paintings and photographs – one which shall grace the blog. Ate outside at Andy’s Market – Chinese Chicken Salad – definitely delicious. We laughed as usual. I came to a rather momentous decision. When I ‘take on’ my Muslim name of Alya I think I shall change my last name – McBride does not go with Alya. However, my birth name, Dryburgh, does.It is easy enough to change one’s name – done it before (and do not forget that I was a lawyer).
Here is a description of the name Ayla: A name whose origin is Arabic feminine which means sublime, the high honourable place , honour, glory, the head of the mountain and it means heaven. From sublime and height , everything is high , like the head of a mountain a high place and a very, strong, strong . The name is spread in all countries, especially in the south of the Arabic peninsula. The definition was provided by the young woman who ‘gave’ me the name. It is somewhat contradictory as she is from the Middle East. Well, it is one thing to stop being an expert and another thing to reap the benefits of a wonderful friendship.
Here is something rather amusing. I am remotely considering a fourth marriage, not sure if the intended knows that he is the intended. That is a noun meaning: fiance. nformal when will we meet your intended? fiancée, fiancé, bride-to-be, wife-to-be, husband-to-be, future wife, future husband, prospective spouse; formal betrothed. Strangely enough, his son did ask me to be his future wife , but there is a huge age discrepancy. Darling young man, but too strange and the father would not approve. I do laugh, and that is good. Laughter is good and this is the truth.
The retrieval from the storage unit was a box labelled ART. The photograph was the first I unwrapped. It is a photograph of my cat whose name was Ishi. I did love him, he died at the ripe old age of seventeen. The photograph, taken by me of course, was the central piece of a photographic exhibit held at the Ciic Center in San Rafael. It was oh so many years ago, perhaps 1990. It was, at that time, my finest hour. I was working at the Civic Center as an attorney in County Counsel’s office, photography was my hobby, my creative outlet at the time. I am a driven woman. My doctors say that this pandemic has been the best thing for me as I have been forced to stop.
Today is an IN day – plans are to analyze a rather scary dream and to read the Quern. I have made significant progress. It is rather difficult reading but most fascinating. There is a saying: no grass is growing under her feet. “If there is ”no grass” growing under someone’s feet, this can be used as a compliment because they are not standing around doing nothing.” That has never been me, believe me, and I am 77.
