Digressions

Staff, Delegation & Petit Dejeauner

Needs a photo here, so we'll give Brownie
a re-run as "You're not forgotten Old Dog,
I'm coming to find you"

So here I am, in my new home, and I reckon I’ve settled in very swiftly and nicely, thank you very much. I have never remotely lived in such a place, since flying the coupe, that is. As I’ve said before, the house is fully furnished, and yes, there are one or two things I will change in time, but overall the furnishings and ambience are great. What I found out today was it’s Fina, my right hand, her husband Sen being the left, who is the artiste who has positioned all the décor just so. My tooth brush and paste don’t just remain haphazardly thrown on the side, as I leave them, but are positioned at the appropriate angle to each other, complimenting the razor, foam, tube of unopened Zovirax, waiting for that alien in the lip to start pulsating, prior to eruption, etc! Yep, for all you Herpes sufferers, plan ahead. Don’t be ashamed as you didn’t, more likely than not, only you know, get the virus from anal sex (nothing necessarily wrong there of course), or sitting on an unbecoming loo seat. No, more than likely Aunty Ethel gave you a big ol’ Auntie Ethel kiss when you were a mere wee one, dooming you to a lifetime of coldslaws! In my case it was New Year’s Eve, Hogmany, back in the Bistro days in Forres, when, as the clock struck midnight in the toun square, a complete stranger, who afterwards became a very special friend despite what she donated me for a lifetime present, gave me a big smacker. Within twenty four hours the inside of my mouth was covered with ulcers and my lips were aaagh! Anyway it’s never been remotely as bad since, but the point is that a massive percentage of people have coldsaws, a virus that’s with you for life, lurking and waiting for a downer/depression, when it will spring to life. But, by keeping the ointment at hand and applying it the moment you feel the lip throbbing you can kill it off, avoiding the otherwise standard ten days depressing infection. True? And that was a minor, not very pleasant, but informative, digression, I know. But after twenty five years as a sufferer I feel the advice is warranted. Though that is for you to decide.

The said fresh decor

Oh, just noticed, there are fresh flowers in the vase on the table? Nothing ostentatious, just three whatever they are. How nice. Must keep abreast of such subtleties in future, as these touches are now ‘the meaning of life’ in my existance.

Anyway, here I am with Sen controlling the garden, Rajesh looking after the pool and otherwise aiding Sen, and the mighty Fina in control of the interior. Fina the decorateur and I, have, I believe, quickly developed a rapport, whereby  I’ll say “Fina, can you show me how to properly prepare a mango and then place it on that platter there, next to the plate with the grapes, and the other two with banana and strawberries on them?” To which she replies “I’m sure you’re right but how about putting all the fruit on the serving dish with the four partitions…” She’s correct of course, as this would be far more aesthetically pleasing. I had actually seen it there in the bottom cupboard, but it was under a load of other dishes, and with my hips the way they are I hadn’t been arsed to get down on my knees and maneuver it out. But then she’s here and that’s what those that do do! And this is the point, as besides Analize, who came in about once every six weeks to do a heavy duty dust back in RAK, I’ve never had a posse of staff before and I feel really embarrassed. Well I did for about five minutes until I accepted that this is a working relationship. She’s getting dosh and I can live the life of Reilly! And, as the icing on the cake, we can all have fun getting on well together while each benefitting in their own way. And I’m still a third under budget!!!

Morning four and I’ve got the team from work coming for breakfast. Jess and Pancho are off playing golf, but that’s cool as they checked out the pad the other night. As I tend to be these days I was up around half five, and after a brief plunge and douse down under the outdoor shower (please note AB, if you ever read this), I doodled around and then started getting the petit dejeuner together. After whipping out the tomatoes and mushrooms in garlic butter, to rest in the oven under a low heat, I got the ribs on. They took half an hour or so and then it was the time for the Spanish sausages, what’s their name, and local variety of black pudding. None of the other’s tried the latter, except Cesar, tentatively, but it was actually my favourite of all. Scrambled eggs were whisked and pending for the last moment, so I got on with laying out the Greek olives, cucumber slices and selection of cheeses. I passed on the planned Charcuteries, leaving them for another day, feeling that to include them was getting a bit excessive, and having, once upon a time, been a restaurateur, I hate waste. Of course by this time, nine, Fina was ensconced, and you know about the fruit scenario. Although being mildly pedantic, I will correct myself, to note that the platter actually had six partitions and so included the cucumber and olives!

Fine, but various adjustments to be made when my stuff arrives
sometime over the next couple of days

I had phoned Brenda and asked her to pick up some bread from the Boulangerie on her way and she had said that they were all leaving at eight thirty to tentatively get here for nine, be it a fifteen minute journey. As it was, sure enough, pretty well on the dot, Sen, doing a brief morning shift, I don’t know why, though maybe to make sure all is in order with my noble guests arriving, informed me that there were intruder’s hoving in. Brenda, having been here before led the way with the firey Dragon breathing down her neck, then Karen and Cesar. I was pretty well there, especially with Fina tidying up the loose ends, so, after an in depth snoop, they settled outside on the front patio with the sun sneaking down through the trees, while I finished off. Then it was out to the ‘early morning dining area’, nicely laid up by Fina, with all the crockery, cutlery and condiments in place. But where was Irish? The others had seen her leave prior to them, presuming she was on her way? But na, no phone call , nothing. Seems like a ‘I’ve just arrived from Dubai and so far to important and busy to make a polite call saying I’m so sorry I can’t make it, as am looking at potential homes’ type, more than acceptable, explanation . Well, is it worth my asking her to my Pendre la Cremaillere? Hmmm. To be mulled over? But, dare I say it; I believe the others had a very fine time.

Something I’ve been Mulling Over

For Fucking Years…

Again, A great start but to be improved

Expat scenarios the world over, but personified,from my experience, by the Emirates, especially the big Chitty of Dubai, attract, like flies are attracted to a newly laid turd, folk who come from nowhere and within thirty seconds think they’re God’s gift. When I spent my first four years in the Emirate, (here comes the “I remember” boring old fart spot), back , way beyond, in eighty one to eighty four, there was no such expression as ‘Jumeirah Jane’. In those days the people out in such postings were semi adventurers. Ok, Dubai was certainly not a hardship posting, as you pretty well had all the mod cons, and in fact, for most of us, a finer lifestyle than we’d had before. But I think we were aware of this and appreciated it. Yes, there were plenty of aspirers, as there have always been throughout time, in the worlds of the Expat. Such as with the Brits out in India, back in the days of the Raj (see Kipling or E. M. Forrester, I think it is). But, possibly because Dubai was a newish expat playground back in the early Eighties, the aspiring snobbery orientated ones were more of a joke to the majority, rather than an imposition. But when I returned ten years later the ‘Jumairah Jane’ was prolific. They’d come out from their semi detached, government housing scheme flats, the parent’s spare room, wherever, and within a blink of an eye considered themselves an HRH. I guess that likeminded places attract likeminded people. And with an unspoken mantra of Dubai being  ‘Come. Go get it, regardless of who you stomp over along the way’, then such types take up the challenge, spreading the word to their likeminded friends, and so it goes on, snowballing… This is of course a gross generalization, but the attitude is present in way enough of a degree to warrant stating this point. Anyway, enough on that pet hate for now (but be assured I'll be back to it one day, when some incident trips my switch)!