*Correction* on Cat Stevens

I received a private email from a close friend informing me that Cat Stevens didn't write Cat's in the Cradle. I didn't believe her (sorry girl!) so I had to do a search online. And yes, indeed, she's right. From the http://catstevens.com/faq/index.html#00013 website:

Q: DID CAT STEVENS SING/WRITE "CAT'S IN THE CRADLE?"
A:No. "Cat's In The Cradle" was written and recorded by Harry Chapin. This is a VERY common misconception. Recently there have been a number of Cat's In The Cradle MP3 files on file sharing services that claim to be either Cat Stevens (Bio), or Harry Chapin and Cat Stevens. They are not, it's just Harry. Or in some cases some other artist who recorded the song. Cat not only didn't write the song but never performed it. Not live, not in the studio, and not even privately.

But this baffles me. I really remember laying on the floor in my mom's living room listening to that song on the record player and I do not remember us ever having a Harry Chapin LP! Cat Stevens DID have a record titled Cat's Cradle, however. But the aforementioned song was no where to be found on it. Anyway, I apologize for the confusion! But I think we did have a Cat Stevens record. I think so. But I'm losing my mind in my old age. (How else can you account for the fact I know the words to MoonShadow and Morning Has Broken?) I do however know for SURE I listened to the Bay City Rollers LP cuz I can still hear the echo of that weird song S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night. It always reminded me of rollerskating for some reason (Bay City ROLLERS, Saturday night....) Anyway, thanks, friend, for the correction!

Random quote of the day

In order to understand the world, one has to turn away from it on occasion... --Albert Camus

That quote was at the end of my Dad’s most recent email. He doesn’t pick out the quotes himself, he has some sort of random generator that gives him a new quote daily. But… subhanallah (Glory to God) they are always appropriate.

God uses computers to talk to us, by the way. I’m sure of it. Did you ever write an email and said some things in it you really shouldn’t have said- and you go to click send and it gets deleted and you get that “page not found” page? That’s God, doing His thing. Sometimes, you might have the intention to go online and just waste time, when you know it’s just a form of procrastination and you have dishes to wash, things to study, kids to pay attention to… and God just prevents your computer from connecting. Every number you try- your computer just won’t connect. These are modern day miracles that people just overlook.

Anyway- I liked this quote, Dad. J I oftentimes feel like I live in a little bubble. In fact, whenever I tell people that, they confirm it, so it must be fact. But the problem is… I like my bubble. And my husband happily supports my bubble-life. Why should I venture out and DEAL with the world? I don’t even like dealing with my children’s SCHOOL. I don’t think I’m elitist, I just don’t like the general public. Argh, that sounds horrible! I’m not anti-social, either, I have enough friends. (Alhamdulilah)

But as much as I turn away from the world… I guess I still don’t really understand it. There are so many things I don’t understand (like how a cassette actually records music on it… still puzzles me). I do understand SOME things, though. And I think I know one thing for sure. I think that everyone is motivated in everything they do by wanting to be loved and accepted (see The Color Purple- amazing movie, and nice music, too ;-P “So let me tell ya something… Sistahhhh…” Only movie I ever saw my husband cry at the end of. ) Half of each of us is motivated by love- it wants to love and be loved. But then we have this other half of ourselves that is egotistical and lives a fearful existence. It’s afraid that there is not enough to go around, and it’s afraid to give because others won’t reciprocate. Everyone’s human. Everyone battles with doing the right thing and being selfish. I think that sums up a lot of the world’s problems right there. My Quraan teacher told us something interesting the other day. That it says in the Quraan that it is the NATURE of humans to always want more and more. Even if God gave us mountains and valleys full of gold, we’d ask Him for another. And there is nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong with asking God for more. What’s wrong is the feeling of entitlement. Demanding more. Or stealing more, because you “deserve” it more than others.

Mahmoud and I were talking today again. (Funny how that happens when you live with someone under the same roof) I told him, sometimes I feel guilty because I see people all around me that work so hard and still have a really hard life, while I have a very comfortable life and basically do nothing to earn it. He didn’t try to tell me, no, Ruthie, you work hard. He just acknowledged that yes, that is true, but he said- whether he actually meant it or not, I’m not sure- that I deserve it. But I said- but those other people deserve it, too. What makes me different than anyone else? I think he agrees with me but has no other explanation. I guess when I think about it, the only way I can come to terms with it is to accept that my life is a test. God gave me this life, these resources, this body, these eyes, this mind, and my nationality to use them to worship Him in my own unique way. Just gotta keep figuring out what that is.

See the resemblance?

Wow! Do you think they could be related?

Lemon Bar Overdose

My friend, Melinda, was asking for recipes for “lemon cake from scratch” yesterday. I jumped onto one of my favorite websites, www.allrecipes.com to do a search for her and got her set up with a few options. In the meantime, I developed a craving for something sweet and lemony myself. Hey, no fair, I thought, SHE’S the pregnant one! Anyway… I did, none the less, go into my kitchen and make some lemon squares/ bars thingies. I also made tortilla soup, spinach feta sambousa, and beef enchiladas. (The whole episode reminds me of a children’s book my sister gave me that turned into a family favorite- “Ruth’s Bake Shop”) Then I proceeded to pig out. And then I woke up at 3am and vomited it all back up. I think I was hung over from the lemon bars or something. haha! (Is that even possible?) My eyes have always been bigger than my stomach. I thought at first while I was leaning over the big plastic all-purpose bucket in the bathroom that I had eaten something bad. But … the rest of my family seems just fine so I guess it’s just me. Maybe the lemon was fighting with the feta cheese or something. It sure was nasty the second time around!

We’re currently renovating our apartment here. We’re getting a lot done -and fast!- but one of the prices we pay for hardworking workers is that we have little privacy and can’t even use our own kitchen, sometimes for 12 hours a day. Last night, while everyone had a day off, was the first time I was able to get into the kitchen to actually COOK something other than scrambled eggs and tea for over a week. We’d been living on take out food for that period of time- most people would probably love that, but for me, I just prefer my own cooking- as evidenced last night by eating myself sick, literally. Sigh.

As I said, Mahmoud and I are really pleased with how fast the work in our home is getting done. Due to our “ok, I admit it, not-so-simple” lifestyle, we are only really able to have work in the apartment done on Mahmoud’s visits here to Maadi every winter. This winter we’ve already managed to plaster and paint the walls of the reception/ great room and the TV room (which has no TV in it, but what else to call it- sun room? Computer room?), they’ve replaced all the wood trim and corrected some of the ceiling molding that I had issues with. We decided on a lovely buttery yellow hue for that room and we really like how it came out. I hope it matches our upholstery! We haven’t moved the furniture back in there yet, or rehung the window treatments (which if it weren’t for my mom, I’d still be calling curtains) , because Mahmoud wants the Marble Man to come back with that floor polishing machine first to put the finishing touches on the floors. And plus, I think they still have some painting of trim or cleaning up of paint splatters still to do in there. As for the kitchen, we are keeping the original ceramic tiles on the walls, from floor to ceiling, although they are currently in very sad shape. A decade of deep frying in a very dusty environment will leave you with dark greasy walls that are not fun to clean. Sooo…. We have one nice guy in there today scrubbing away, floor to ceiling, even behind the current cabinets and stuff. Yah, I know- you’re wondering why I don’t just do it myself. I did do one section of about 4 tiles. It took me approximately 20 minutes after which I thought my arm would fall off my shoulder. Labor here is so cheap, I guess we figure that it’s worth it to avoid getting carpal tunnel or something, plus at the same time, we‘re creating jobs. Plus, it’ll get done faster that way. I’m always amazed at how strong workers here are. Makes me feel quite wimpy to be honest. Oh well, God keeps us each humble in different ways.

Back to the kitchen… we’ve ordered our new appliances and cabinetry and all should be in place by the time Mahmoud returns to his work in the states at the end of February. He’s at his office down the street right now, surely drinking tea with his buddies (sometimes it seems that is all they do there), and making long distance calls which we can’t make from our home. He went out this morning to visit one of the carpenters in order to check on the status of our bookshelf/ wall unit thing that is built already (man, these guys can be fast when you pay them well!) and is just waiting now for the stain and lacquer. Whew. I get tired just thinking about how much work other people do. Nah, that’s just the ghost of the lemon bars talking. I’ll be up and at ‘em again soon, doing whatever it is I do to sustain my living.

My Dirty Little Secret

I have a confession to make. I like music. I know. That makes me a hypocrite.

Ok, there may be some people reading this that aren’t muslim. Within the Islamic community, the permissibility of musical instruments is something that is very controversial. In Islam, there is a concept (actually a hadith, a narrated saying of the Prophet Mohammed) that what is permissible is clear, what is forbidden is clear, and the things in between are the grey areas. I feel music is a grey area. So… in the past few years I have advocated a music free lifestyle, just in case musical instruments are something that God really DOES want us to avoid. Hadith hints at it, and scholars give fatawa regarding how ‘bad’ music is….so I tried to rip all the desire to listen to music out of my heart. I found other things to play on the stereo (recitation of the Quraan, for example).

For those that don’t know me well, I was the kind of youth that constantly had music playing- the radio, tapes, later on, my sister’s Cd collection… I started learning to play the flute in fifth grade, continued on with that until I started alto saxophone in junior high. I went to an artsy fartsy crunchy granola head music and drama filled sleepover summer camp throughout my pre-teen and teenage years. I started on drill team in high school, and I probably attended every school dance from sixth grade through my sophomore year of college. I was INTO music. And I’m not one of those people who can classify their musical tastes as “alternative” or “R&B” or “Country”. I wish I was so simple. The problem is… I love it all. From Tracy Chapman to Brahms to Sousa marches. I even like Backstreet Boys and went through a Guns N Roses phase, a Tupac Shakur phase… I was a Madonna wannabe, lusted after INXS… Basically, I like anything that can move me. And I’m so sensitive and emotional… it ALL moves me.

A few years ago I discovered Islamic nasheed. That means religious acapella singing for muslims. It was love at first note. I bought every Dawud Wharnsby Ali cassette the Canadian convert produced. I also adore the sweet voice of Zain Bhika. I also own all the Cds of Yusuf Islam (formerly known as Cat Stevens). I remember listening to Lps on my mom’s living room floor of Cat Stevens and Bay City Rollers as a child. Something about Yusuf Islam’s voice brings back those sweet days of my youth. Cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon, little boy blue and the man in the moon….

I started going to Sunapee Arts Camp in New Hampshire for my summer breaks starting in 1984, when I was 11 years old. I cried hysterically when my dad told me I‘d be spending 5 whole weeks away from home on my own. I thought I‘d die. After the first day, where I made a close friend, Nora, right off the bat, catching tadpoles together in the lake, I wanted to live at that place year round for the rest of my life. That place changed my life. It molded me. It is one of the most beautiful places on Earth, but maybe my opinions are tainted with the beauty of my coming-of-age memories.

One thing we did at that camp was sing. We always sang. After every lunch, we’d sing. At campfires, sang. When we were lucky, a counselor would bring a guitar into the bunk, turn off the lights and serenade us to sleep. Those memories are priceless. It was an environment that kind of just echoed of what I imagine the 60s were like. We wore tie-dyed teeshirts, we even made tie-dyed teeshirts. We learned to make pottery on the wheel. We made bead bracelets and macramé necklaces and all that good stuff. We went skinny dipping at night sometimes (don’t worry Mom and Dad, that was not co-ed). I made such strong bonds with friends so quickly in that environment. I think singing together does that to you. Singing together is the prelude to crying together. How can you really have intimacy with someone that you can’t sing in front of?

Sunapee Arts Camp and its counselors introduced me to James Taylor. I still remember my second year of summer camp, our sweet cabin counselor, serenading us to sleep with her guitar…

Been walkin my mind to an easy time
My back turned towards the sun
Lord knows when the cold wind blows, it’ll turn your head around now…
Well there’s hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things to come
Sweet dreams and flying machines
In pieces on the ground now.
Oh, I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain,
I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought I’d see you one more time again

About two years ago, I bought my first CD with instrumental music on it in several years. It was James Taylor’s Greatest Hits. That man can still make me cry and make my heart feel like it wants to burst. He’s right up there in my book with Simon and Garfunkle. When I have a hard day, when I have so many emotions running through my blood and just need to cry and need a friend who understands and accepts me, I just put JT in the CD player. It’s not even the music, it’s his intonation, it’s the poetry of his words, the timing even when his lyrics are simple. His music is just that- so simple. Beautifully simple. So…

It’s out in the open now. I listen to music occasionally. Music gets me through things like housework and stressful life changes. I didn’t want to admit my weakness for music before now because I feared judgement from any well-meaning muslim sisters who might read this. But I have gotten to a point now in my life where I feel like I have to be authentic, and have some integrity… to publicly be myself and say, that’s me, goddamit, take it or leave it. If I leave this world with no friends, at least I can live with myself and know that I admitted who I was, and didn’t try to deny my nature.

And JT goes out singing--

When you’re down and troubled
And you need a helping hand
And nothing, oh nothing, is going right
Close your eyes and think of me
And soon I will be there
To brighten up
Even your darkest night.
You just call out my name
And you know wherever I am
I’ll come running
To see you again
Winter Spring Summer or Fall
All you got to do is call
And I’ll be there
You’ve got a friend.
If the sky
Above you
Should turn dark and full of clouds
And that old
North wind should begin to blow
Keep your head together
And call my name out loud now
Soon I’ll be knocking upon your door.
You just call out my name
And you know wherever I am
I’ll come running
To see you again
Winter Spring Summer or Fall
All you got to do is call
And I’ll be there
Hey ain’t it good to know you’ve got a friend
When people can be so cold
They’ll hurt you, and desert you
Well, they’ll take your soul if you let them
Oh yah but don’t you let them…
You just call out my name
And you know wherever I am
I’ll come running
To see you again.
Oh baby don’t you know ‘bout
Winter spring summer or fall
All you got to do is call
And lord, I’ll be there
Yes I will
You’ve got a friend.

Can I really convince myself that God forbids such an expression of love?

Let's Get it Started...

Well.... here we go. I'm starting one of these blogs... just a year or two ago I would have looked at you with my eyebrows knit together if you asked me if I had a blog. "A what?" But well, this technology stuff is amazing. I can sit here and write my thoughts out online for complete strangers- as well as friends and family- to read and analyze. How cool. How therapeutic. A couple weeks ago, a new friend, Shereen, was telling us on one of our online groups about her own blog and encouraged me to start one of my own. I took a look at hers- wow, she is one profound woman, that's for sure! I thought, oh... I have nothing THAT deep to talk about. (Her entry that I had read that day was about why people like to watch horror movies- which reminded me of a long-ago conversation with my sister, Celeste and her husband, Jay, who "made" me watch Scream! with them about 8 years ago, at a time when I was very sensitized to film... anyway that's a story for another day, right?) I just finished reading a novel that I highly recommend to anyone (as long as you don't mind the occasional profanity and sexual reference). It's by Wally Lamb, titled, "I Know This Much is True." It was one of Oprah's Book Club books! So, there ya go, has to be good, right? THAT book, which I finished reading yesterday, is what is REALLY making me start to write down my life and what better way than doing it here online, not knowing who is reading, maybe it's my family who will turn around and call me on what I say- "No, Ruthie, I beg to differ but I remember it differently" (oh, if only our family was that polite when we disagreed!) I don't know how much of my experiences and thoughts I'll actually share. I guess as I get older, and make more mistakes, and have more of a reputation to live up to (even if it's only just in my own mind)... I get more private. I'm actually a very sensitive person (anyone who knows me well would say that) and I'm very sensitive to other people's judgements of me in particular. But, at the same time, I am stepping out of my comfort zone to write down what's on my mind because I want to search for the truths about my life. And I want to force myself to examine my own biases and beliefs, in front of a real or imagined audience. Maybe that is what my whole life over the last 15 years has been. My own struggle to find the truth and to see the world, myself included, with merciful and loving eyes. Anyway- come along with me, reader :-) Take my hand and together we'll see the humor and drama that makes up the life of this simple housewife named Ruthie, of Maadi.