And We're Off!

It's that time of the year again - Calabogie is just a few hours away. It's our crazy family reunion (although we've *mostly* all seen each other in the past couple of weeks as the various parts of my family trickle into Ottawa from Dubai and Cali, it's not official until we're sitting around the dinner table - elbowing each other and asking someone to pass the salt/salad/water, with the windows open and the lake just a few steps away).
M and I are tacking a little weekend getaway to TO on the end of the week, to hang out with his folks and the always articulate K.
I hope to come back refreshed and sunburnt (and, ideally, with a pile of great nature photos and hilarious stories about my little angels discovering nature.)
Talk to y'all in a few days!

Zen and the Art of Sitting Still

Okay, so the truth is that this post has nothing to do with Zen, but I can't think of a sentence that includes "the art of" and not start it with "Zen". It's the tail end of flu season here in the wonderful Ontario/Quebec region of Toronto/Ottawa/Montreal. I include all three areas because M and I were in TO for a fabulous long weekend last week hanging out with my awesomely extended family, but towards the end of the weekend, I caught some sort of lovely bug. At first, I couldn't figure out what I had, but as Sunday rolled into Monday (and Tuesday, and Wednesday), I felt like I was running the slightest fever, followed by general icky-ness, sore-throatedness, congestion, headaches, you name it.
Everything was unpleasant enough to make me a general grouch, but not enough to keep me at home sick. By Thursday afternoon, I thought I was back on the upswing, and had high hopes for a long bike ride in Montreal on Friday after work. Not so: Friday, I crashed and burned. My body had had enough. Sleep! it screamed at me. Sit still. and so I did, for basically the whole day. and then M came home from work and made me a cup of peppermint tea and we watched a movie and then I slept more.
I got up this morning at 10 a.m. feeling like a new person. Energy? For reals? and I was so pleased with it. So pleased I felt I needed to load the dishwasher, and pull out the dustbuster, and gather a few other things that were here and there and needed doing. And then M asked me, ever so thoughtfully to please.just.sit.still.
Hmmmm, good point. The man is on to something. See, I'm obsessed with multi-tasking. I can't just ever be watching the hockey game or writing a blog post. I do both at the same time (like, right now... the Habs are down 2-0. Not pleased. Trying to stay on topic). I can't cook one meal at a time. I usually put 3 things on the stove together, or I cook while I'm on the phone. Read and/or write and/or eat on the commuter bus. Same for the OC transpo bus when I'm in Ottawa. Even at work, I rarely have one window open at a time. I like to switch between 3 or 4 tasks so I don't get bored. I find I get more done this way, except....
Except when I'm sick. Then I'm supposed to sit still. Right? Right. It actually took about 3 hours yesterday to settle back down and get into bed. I kept not being able to stay still long enough to go to sleep, even though my body was exhausted and my eyes were drooping. And today, the second the energy was back, it was like I couldn't possibly read a book or watch something.
Productivity is good, but I think I need to settle down and read my body's signals. Relax. I sat still to write this post for the last 30 minutes, so there's improvement there, right?
Oh, and the score is still 2-0.

Family Evolution

When I was a child, my family in Canada consisted of my parents and sisters; the closest relatives we had were an uncle in the U.S. that we saw on occasion and his family. We took trips to Egypt to visit extended family every few years, but in reality we made family in Ottawa to compensate. I think back over my childhood - all the way up to university - and lose count of the "aunts" who became my aunts, the girls my age who acted as substitute cousins. These were the people we spent our special occasions with: the people we saw during Eid and Ramadan and grew up around. In some ways, they were more than family, because we had chosen each other; in other ways, they would never really be family, and we each had our distinct, nuclear units because at the end of the day, we only had a certain common history, and no common blood.
I remember my excitement when my mother's youngest brother moved to Ottawa, how absolutely thrilled I was that I could start a story with "my uncle" at school, and really, truly mean "my uncle" and not a friend of the family. I remember how thrilled I was when my baby cousin was born and I had an actual cousin to play with and coo at within driving distance. In some bizarre way, the presence of relatives in the city validated Ottawa as my home. I had family here, close by.

Over the years, it became normal. My Canadian family grew as more cousins and second cousins made the move. Eid became a celebration at our house where, instead of my parents trying to find a way to surround us with company, we tried to figure out how to seat everyone around the table. My parents' house became the "family house", the house where everyone came together for events and holidays, the equivalent of my grandparents' house with the massive veranda in Alexandria. When my sisters got married, the family grew again in the form of brothers and their families. Until that point, my only experience with brothers was through my male cousins, who played rough with us and pushed us in sports and up trees on our visits to Egypt. Two cousins in particular served as my older brothers, teasing and joking with us through out the years. As they got older, they would come to North America to work in the summers, and then stop by Ottawa to visit for a couple of weeks before they returned for the fall semester.

Eventually, the older one moved to Ottawa; two months ago, the younger one moved to Toronto. Last night, he and his family came to visit at my in-laws' place, where we're visiting in TO for the long weekend. There was something remarkably unremarkable about looking around the living room, seeing M and his family and my "original older brother" and his family there all in one place, a new family extension forming. 

When I was little, I could count on one hand my extended family in north america. At one point, I couldn't even do that. I now need both hands and feet to do it, and I love it.

Work (or more accurately, vacation)

Tomorrow it's back to work after 11 days off. M and I were thinking about the last time we've actually each had this much time off and we decided that our honeymoon didn't count - I know, I know, we're coming across as very very hard to please and also a bit ungrateful, but let me preface the decision: we were looking for the last time we had a lot of time off that was essentially "pure". This means, not a lot of travelling, not a lot of having to get up at a specific hour, and A LOT of vegging.
Now, let me give you a summarized itinerary of our honeymoon:

• Montreal to Paris - 6 hours in Paris
• Paris to Cairo - 3 days in Cairo
• Cairo to El Gouna - 7 days in El Gouna
• El Gouna to Alexandria - 4 days in Alexandria
• Alexandria to Cairo - 4 days in Cairo
• Cairo to Paris - 1 day in Paris
• Paris to Montreal

Through out, suitcases were opened and closed a million times and all luggage was taken to all locations. Also, as this was the first time we were meeting each other's extended family (the folks still living in Egypt - and there are many!) we were constantly visiting with others, sometimes doing 2 or 3 visits a day. Even the time in El Gouna, which included a breakfast buffet with out accommodations, meant we had to be up early enough to eat breakfast. The bottom line: tons of fun, but very very little vegging. Sometimes, you come back from vacation feeling like you could use another vacation.
So, if we go back before that, the last no strings attached, long time off chunk we've had was Calabogie in the summer of 2007. Which is not that long ago, but we were both ready for a good chunk of vegging time...
And "vegging" we did: in TO, with M's parents and brother... I swear, the breakfasts we have at M's parents place are the kind that can go on for ages, where you start with eggs, and then you go for jam, and then cheese (goat cheese, and sheep's feta cheese, no allergy problems for Noha here) and then smoked salmon, and fava beans (traditional Egyptian breakfast food - prepared to excellence by M's father) all next to your fabulous cup of coffee, and topped off with very very very good conversation with a million tangents... This is true vegging.
So I come back from vacation feeling like I've actually relaxed, and as ready for work as you can actually be (are we ever actually ready for work? Like, really, truly, ready? I mean, no matter how much you like it, and I like my work, it's work, right??)
Happy end of vacation to all. Hope you had good ones if you were off.... and Happy New Year...

The Best Reminder

We're in TO for the week, visiting with M's family, and we spent the weekend at the RIS conference, listening to a lot of great speakers talk about the importance of contribution and involvement, how being a Muslim is all about giving and serving. We heard a lot of great things, but one of best reminders I heard was the mention of this hadeeth (prophetic saying). So simple and succinct, but so clear in its message.

The Messenger of Allah, may Allah bless him and grant him peace, said, 'Allah, the Mighty and Exalted, will say on the Day of Rising, 'Child of Adam, I was ill and you did not visit Me.'

The man will say, 'O Lord, how could I visit You when You are the Lord of the worlds?'

The Lord will answer, 'Do you not know that My servant so-and-so was ill and you did not visit him? Do you not know that if you had visited him, you would have found Me with him?

O son of Adam, I asked you for food and you did not feed Me.'

The man will answer, 'O Lord, how could I feed You when You are the Lord of the worlds?'

The Lord will say, 'Do you not know that My servant so-and-so asked you for food and you did not feed him? Do you not know that if you had fed him, you would have found him with Me.

O son of Adam, I asked you for water and you did not give it to Me.'

He will say, 'O Lord, how could I give You water when You are the Lord of the worlds?'

The Lord will say, 'My servant so-and-so asked you for water and you did not give it to him. Do you not know that if you had given him water, you would have found that with Me?'

So often, we make religion so complicated that we forget the essence. Visit the sick, feed the poor, care for those who need to be cared for. This we can do. This we should do.

Other Amazing "Speltisies"

That's my new word for "things made with spelt flour" - and the latest in this wonderful addition (you remember the Spelt Biscotti of last Toronto visit?) are little spelt pesto rolls... In T.O. this weekend for a good friend's wedding and a visit with my husbands family, and you cannot even begin to understand how truly delicious these things are. I opened the bag. I finished the bag. In one sitting. That's all there is to it.
My parents-in-law have also discovered spelt sesame sticks. For all you Egyptians out there, this is essentially "bo'somat" a.k.a. that totally fabulous thing you have with your tea. I'm seriously considering just up and moving to T.O.