Tampon Sword!

Tampon applicators are THE weapon in the fight against evil.  My three year old nephew constructed this beautiful sword in no time flat.  Yes, ladies and gentlemen.  This is what can happen when a toddler is extremely quiet for five minutes.  Right in the middle of the living room floor for all to see.  On a separate but related note, I don't think I ever thought I'd use the words "tampon" or "sword" on this blog.  Certainly not in the same post.

Thank you, Libby

Libby is a beautiful, red-headed, six year old girl that is fighting cancer.  She is the best friend of a beautiful, blonde haired, six year old girl named Finley who just happens to be the daughter of my very good friends, Kevin and Shari.

In the last two weeks, Libby has been diagnosed with a Wilm's tumor, has had her kidney (along with the three pound tumor) removed and has had open heart surgery to remove pieces of the tumor that broke off and lodged in her heart.  She came home on Monday and is starting chemo and radiation tomorrow.  In the meantime, Shari decided that Libby needed a coming home parade.  She somehow rallied the neighborhood and with the help of Kevin, spread the word to the news networks to get everyone out there less than 24 hours later.  Libby's entire school and many of the parents turned out to cheer Libby on.  You can read the story and see the video from the Dallas Morning News here.

I was lucky enough to be invited to the event.  I decided to take my camera along in case everyone else was too busy watching the parade to document it.  Here are just a few of the photos:

Little did I know that by bringing my camera, I would touch the lives of hundreds if not thousands of people when the pictures were shared with the world on facebook.  Telling Libby's story and spreading the love that everyone has for her can only lead to great things.  I hope that everyone who sees my pics decides to help someone in need, donate a little to their favorite charity or even just hug their kids a little tighter.

I never considered that I could do good with my pictures.  I always thought I was too amateur and too inexperienced to do something great.  Thank you, Libby, for helping me find a way to help others.  Even if I never do another thing with my photography, I can be happy knowing that I helped someone, somewhere by sharing Libby's story.

Camera Play

Sometimes I just like to take random pictures to play with my camera.  The more I play, the more I learn.  Here are a couple of random shots from this morning.

It might be time to clean the awning poles.

Oz taunts the dog next door.

After The Storm

It was a wild ride in DFW yesterday.  We had (roughly) 12 tornadoes blow through the metroplex between noon and dusk.  There were several that were level EF-1 and an EF-3 hit in Forney.  I wasn't close enough to any of the major weather to get any pics.  Nor would I have been crazy enough to stand outside with a tornado bearing down on me.  I did get a couple of sky pics after the storm, though.

Closer to Home

If only I was a true jet-setter and traveled more than a couple of times a year.  Alas, I have to sometimes be content with taking pictures right here in the heart of Texas.  My favorite shots generally involve the weather.  There's an old saying out here:  "If you don't like the weather in Texas, wait three hours.  It will change."  That is absolutely true.  We can go from bright and sunny to hail and tornadoes in the span of an hour.  With our wide open spaces, there are some truly unique photography opportunities that people in larger cities just don't get.  Here are a couple of shots that I took while standing on my patio furniture this evening.  Don't tell my husband.  He knows my propensity for clumsiness and would surely tell me to wear a harness or something.

  

Gas Prices...GAH!

When I went to Oman earlier this month, it cost me about $1,400 USD to get all the way from Dallas to Salalah.  I just checked the prices for July, and it's gone up to about $2,100 USD.  I understand supply and demand.  People are crying "Oooh!  We can't use Iran's oil!  Scary, scary!"  Guess what, people.  The U.S. hasn't used Iran's oil in ages.  We buy elsewhere and a shortage from Iran doesn't affect us in the slightest.  Does that matter?  Nope!  An empty threat = jacked up gas prices = excessive surcharges on flights.  Not that the airlines are blameless.  The "taxes and surcharges" for the flight overseas are generally more than the cost of the ticket itself.  Don't get me started on baggage fees.  I'm now the world's best carry-on packer.

These oil speculators are the worst manner of "the sky is falling" people I've ever seen.  I wonder if these are the same people that are featured in the NatGeo Doomsday Preppers series.  I watch because I am fascinated at the level of paranoia that feeds this mentality.  Is it good to keep a little extra water and food around the house in case of an extended power outage?  Sure.  Do I need a years worth?  Probably not.  I'd be dead from the Texas heat and the whining children before I made it that long.  Actually, I hope to be living overseas by then.  That might be the best way to avoid the end-of-the-world crazies.

Salalah in Review

I'm back.  Damn jet lag.

When I think of the Middle East, I think of sand, sand and more sand.  Sand in your shoes, sand in your hair and sand invading every nook and cranny of yourself and everything you own.  I was half wrong.  Luckily, I missed the sandstorm by a day (this post might be a totally different one if I hadn't) but there was a lot more rock and a lot less sand than I envisioned.  Most of my pictures look more like Hawaii than the Middle East.

I mean, really.  When you picture the Middle East, is this what you think of?

No?  Well, what about this?

Or this?

Ok, maybe that last one is a little closer to what I expected.  Camels!  It's hard not to oooh and ahhh over them.  They are EVERYWHERE.  My husband laughed at me because every time we passed one, I made him slow down for me to look and take pictures.  He sees them every single day, so they're no big deal for him.

On to the people of Salalah.  I'm convinced that there is not a nicer, more polite or more generous group of people on the planet.  I was, for the most part, completely at ease while I was over there.  Everyone went out of their way to make sure that I was comfortable and had everything I could possibly need.  I did at one point have to walk into Lulu's (picture a four story Target) by myself to use the ladies room.  That was rather like running the gauntlet of fascinated stares.  I also got more than a few curious looks when we went to the souk (local market) to have falafel and shawarma.  Apparently, women don't often frequent that place and western women are even less likely to go there.  I did have to giggle at the children.  A blonde haired, green eyed woman from Texas is a bit of a novelty in those parts.  Every one of them went bug-eyed and their jaws dropped when I walked by.  When I smiled at them, they grinned from ear to ear.  It was adorable.

The greatest difference that I noticed between the people of Salalah and here at home was the consideration given to guests.  We happened to be there for St. Patrick's Day.  The bar at our hotel had a nice sized bash and we sat on the patio smoking shisha (apple flavor... mmmmm) and having a beer.  A very happy, very drunk Omani man was making the rounds of the bar and singing to just about everyone he met.  It was pretty obvious that he'd had a six pack too many at this point, but he was just as happy as he could be.  He eventually camped out next to our table.  After watching him sing, dance and talk for about 20 minutes, two men (the closest explanation I can give is that they were like bouncers at a club) came over, grabbed him by the arm and proceeded to escort him out of the bar.  Muslims don't normally drink, and being drunk in public is an especially big no-no for them.  While a bouncer throwing someone out of a bar is not all that unusual, what they did afterwards shocked me.  They both came back to our table and apologized to my husband and our friend for the behavior of the man and thanked them for their tolerance.  I was floored.  Can you imagine a bouncer at a Dallas club going out of his way to apologize to and thank someone that was being entertained by a drunk guy?  On that note, you'll notice that I didn't say they apologized to me.  This is a cultural thing.  They could see that I was there with my husband and it's considered impolite to address a man's wife without permission and a formal introduction.  It wasn't a slight on me, but a courtesy to my husband.  We are considered two halves of the same whole, so speaking to one is speaking to both, albeit indirectly.  It's kind of a difficult distinction to get when you haven't experienced it first hand.  It's certainly not the way it's done in the states.  But, for my fairly socially-shy self, it actually puts me more at ease to have them address him instead of speaking directly to me.

Finally, the laid back time schedule and atmosphere of Salalah is incredibly relaxing.  Businesses are generally open from 9 to 1 and again from 4 to 10.  The hours in the middle are your own and people typically go home to spend time with their families.  There is no rush in Salalah.  Everything is "In Shaa' Allah" which loosely translates to "God Willing."  You might tell someone that you will meet them at 4:00 In Shaa' Allah.  In reality, you get there when you get there and no one is offended if you are late.  You can spend hours enjoying a meal or a hookah.  No one drops off the check "for your convenience" or tries to turn the table so that they can get another tip. In fact, there is no tipping that I saw.  Your water and wine glasses are always full.  You ask for the check when you are ready for it and you don't get glared at for lingering.  In fact, I think you might shock the waiter if you asked for it too soon.  Closing time is pretty much whenever the last people leave.  I loved it.  It was very refreshing and very different from the rat race we have here.

I wasn't ready to leave.  In fact, I'm ready to move there.  In Shaa' Allah.