I am on the run. I had an early morning (make that early morning Moroccan time, 1100 hours) meeting with my French-tutor-to-be. It’s Morocco so we had to have tea and conversation (which is a good thing). Then I had to go to the bank for CASH (he he he, see her rubbing her hands together and doing the witch’s cackle) so that I can pay the rent, and the gym fee, and the utilities. Q had an errand up town and THEN – the market. Where truly Q buys enough for eight; I love the fact most of the meat is for M.C. Solaar who is now upstairs having his bath, his cries of abuse going out over the Oudayas unheeded. We had bags of carrots, tomatoes, avocado, bananas, potatoes, grapes, and an artichoke; along with some vegetables she explains to me as we go and the yummy turkey/apple sausage from the Butcher.
We came out of the market loaded down with bags (I bought Nutella as there was no Greek yogurt, that’s interchangeable yes?) into some sort of taxi desert! They were not to be seen, where normally they are lined up at the taxi stand. So we waited, like you do, and eventually they began to sprout. However there is another catch, you have to get one going your direction (sigh).
Now it is 1400 hours and I have to get to the gym/club. I have homework in both my courses for tomorrow and the rest of today’s blog to write. I think I will need a massage. I’ll be back later today. Happy Holiday to the Yanks!
Coming up: 1001 Nights at the spa, mothers of Shrek fans, the Osama bin Laden train for toddlers, my own sidewalk to the bank, and non-teaching holidays in Morocco
From the Zen of Motherhood:
55%
9 comments:
Oh this blog reminded me so much of living in Cairo, hurling oneself at pasing taxis screaming the name of your hoped for destination in Arabic in the earnest anticipation that one will stop and pick you up before you got mowed down by the next highly painted lory decorated with a dozen hand of fatimas!
Out markets here in France are slendid affairs but nothing beats shopping in the Khan.
You avatar is very chic. Excellent description North African traffic.
thank you for coming by.
Do tell me about the spa, I can't wait to hear about the spa!
dulwichmum
I'm typing! I'm typing, my poor little bloody nubs are leaking my life's blood into the keyboard, the sweat from my brow dripping onto the desk, my hair is frizzing and i am slumped in the chair (I never slump!) in weariness, even my feet had to have a massage. I'm typing, I'm typing.. You know I'm going to need a manicure and have to have my hair done after gym tomorrow. um hum
Well I'll be back later I guess. What's the other 45% addicted to?
Oh, yes! I'm waiting for a vicarious spa experience as well!
Love the Nutella substitution for Greek yoghourt, Lady m, but don't you think that's pushing it a bit too far?!
I remember when I first ordered a Sainsbury's delivery online and, instead of lemons, I was sent Lemon Fairy Liquid - it, apparently, fitted my customer profile...
Considering the calories I am capable of adding to Greek yoghurt by virtue (or lack thereof) of my friends Honey and Nuts, I can clearly see the link!
Looking forward to more Lady M.
jmb
reading and writing I would think.
thank you for coming by.
mama zen
look above! thank you for coming by.
debio
Perhaps...you mean you don't think they have the same nutritional quotient? Ah yes the old profiling..
thank you for coming by.
good woman
exactly!
thank you for coming by.
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