Concerning Sunday on Thursday.......

I am in denial. 
We leave in a week and I am firmly in denial.
My Husband is in Delhi.
I am hovering in Egypt, running away from reality.

So as my children nap the sweet sleep of tiredness I will give you a run down of my week.

Sunday.
We went to the international gathering.  At the bottom of our apartment building stairs, stacked five feet high, mocked a pile of bricks.  "To your return, beware." they suggested loudly.
There is no childcare for those 3 and under so Sunday School is for all children of all ages and usually two or three wilting mommies. I wilted in the back.
When we returned with Zana asleep, the pile of bricks now forming a shoulder high wall in our ungan.
Zana awoke an hour later from the noise.  She exited the living room (where we are all now camping on mattresses) and with zeal and passion began to scold the workers.  "This is my house.  No wall in my house.  What are you doing?  Stop!  Stop!  Stop!"  They stopped and stared at the little peanut of a roll of a girl.  Then she burst into a torrent of tears.  I wanted to dig a hole and crawl in.  Whooops.  We discussed America but I spaced preparing the kids for a wall.
Heavenly Jannat came and got bumped in the hall by one of the workers who liked to stand and grin at me.  Personally I felt a little flattered but became the roaring mommy lion when he messed with Jannat.  They finished in record time.  Brick wall All.  Done.
I felt that little insidious friend pride rise up in my soul.  "I can handle this."

 Monday.
I cannot handle anything without my Savior.  Full. Stop.
A day off from workers.  A day that flew by.  Dinner with friends upstairs.  My dear friend Fazi's curly hair frizzes around her face, we talk of everything but goodbyes.  She laments right at the end.  She knows us.  She loves us.  We have a quiet friendship that grows with time.  I will miss her.  She works each day corralling SIXTY plus first graders.  I do not envy her teaching job.  Ever.  But we have enjoyed talking teaching and all it entails.
She made us delicacies beyond compare.  Bless.
A break from the workers except that they came to measure and gawk.

Tuesday.
Workers back.  Somehow I forgot that a brick wall needs cementing.  This is the messy part.  Really messy.  My kitchen has a "window" to the ungan high up in the wall for an exhaust fan, necessary for a kitchen with no windows to the outside.  It does not close.  Water used to come in when the tank overflowed.  On Tuesday cement flew in.  I did not realize it was happening.  Gritty grossness all over the kitchen.  Whoops.  Hubster had laid his helmet upside down on the floor so it would be safe in there and nestled inside was a little cement family of sprays.   The workers came early and stayed.  And stayed.  And stayed.  Till after eleven they stayed while the landlord yelled at them.  Because Hubster did not return home till after their departure I locked myself into the living room with the kids and read books.  We all went to bed a little grimy and hot but showering was out of the question as our bathroom doors have see through grating on the top fifth of the door.  It was a long day and even with sickness starting to creep up on us all a day with lots of laughs.

Wednesday.
 A day of rest.  Everyone was sick so we laid low.
I helped the electrician remove the invertor connection from the side of the house which will no longer be ours.  I thought about writing a Last Will and Testament as sparks flew, lines buzzed and darkness fell.  This task took me out of my comfort zone but what a lovely man with a little son and a past job in Dubai. 
Dinner with my friend downstairs.  Again best food ever.  Tears.  Goodbyes still to come. 

Thursday.
Today my voice has given up the ghost.  No voice.  No volume.  Perhaps it is a gift to Zana and Abe when we travel.  I will have to keep them closer.  Maybe I am getting ready for a volume change in the US of A.
The work is happening.  Downstairs they are cutting metal with a large machine.  I went out.  Sick and all and had a blast.

We leave soon.  One week is the countdown.  It feels shorter.  There is a still a few dinners with friends, a wedding, a get together with a dear sister, a party, and maybe if I am feeling feisty I might throw in a visit or two. 
I am burning all my candles.
Giving away my American spices. 
Praying without ceasing (except when I am writing lists in my head). 
And drinking all the root beer that was supposed to last us for the next six months (we bring it from Thailand on our visa runs and ration them out for date night). 
ps.  once again no proofreading.......not a good idea but I have a little girl to hold