Today...

 on the walk home from collecting one of the wee people from school, the 3 and a bit year old decided to do the whole John Cleese, ministry of funny walks gig, with wild abandon, a huge grin on his face and loads of giggles from him, and us....

it's not the norm here, of course... but then so much of what we do isn't, that we're pretty much past caring what people think and we just let the kid get on with things in his own peculiar way...

on a later walk home, we were following a few sheep, one of which was doing it's own peculiar walk... which gave me  a slight fit of the giggles... and the 9 year old, complete with very heavy backpack, walked the rest of the way home singing, something about a sheep, moving one way and it's tail moving another, with some interesting drumlike sound effects and not a little swaying this way and that from her... which could have been because of the very heavy school
bag but I'm not totally convinced!

Again, we drew a few stares, which to be honest appeals to the Britishness in us and just made us a bit more giggly...  

It was on my almost last school run of the day, whilst being blown hither and thither in the market, that I mused over how immodest the wind is, and that I'm not keen on my hijab being blown all over the show when I'm least expecting it...(my personal ploy is to turn around and walk backwards for a bit, which my daughters tell me looks a bit weird here but what the heck, in for a penny in for a pound I say!)  anyway this led to another fit of the giggles when dd21 suggested that it made us humble hijabis look like we have  jumpsuits on when the wind blows at us full throttle and mercilessly moulds every inch of fabric to every lumpy bump you possess....

we have a fair number of giggly walks...and I sometimes think it's a shame that I don't see enough Algerians embracing the giggly bits of life.... 

sometimes the reality of how different we are as a family hits me when I least expect it, and I know alot of sisters struggle with the divide. But the more I dare to be myself, the more I realise how accomodating Algerians are... and if they look sideways at me today for being a bit giggly about silly stuff they wouldn't bother to crack a smile for, they'll hardly bat an eyelid
 when they catch me doing it next time...

Weekending...

So it's Friday already.. the day of the week I've been waiting for with relish... it's the day for letting go and just being...
No rainy, cold, drizzly walk to school... no breakfast too early for appetite... a chance to wake slowly and enjoy the warmth of the covers for a while longer before facing the chill..

The beds are all still down in our communal sleeping space, the big boys have taken themselves off to the tutors, and I'm thinking about what I might do with this day of ours.

I hate planning... I fly by the seat of my pants these days, taking life as it comes at me. And on the odd day when neccesity makes me scrawl a to-do list I can only work in brief stages.. planning the next hour or two ahead... no more.

It's a challenge for at least one of my children, who is an organizer, a naturally neat and ordered person who needs to know what's happening ahead of time... all the time.
I try to accommodate everyone in my house, but there are just some things about yourself you can't change... and this for me is one of them.

So my day is starting slowly... it's raining outside, it's cold enough for me to think about lighting the fire inside once all the mattresses are up and out of the way... the 3 yr old is awake and happy to have found that we've brought the kittens (newly born four days ago to a slightly slapdash mama cat!) into the sitting room during the night... it was far too cold upstairs and one of her brood has already lost the struggle for life.

Someone else has gone to put the kettle on the stove for tea, and the first wash of the day has just started tumbling about in the machine... it's a low impact kind of day... no need to rush about making sure lunch is on time... there are enough lentils from yesterday to suffice... perhaps I'll throw some bread dough in a bowl and let it sit on the fire to prove in this all purpose winter room of ours... sometimes I kinda wish we had a wood burner set in the middle or could at least bring the primus stove in here ...

And then I remember it's Friday.. and I need to put pans of water on the stove for Friday showers... and that  I need to plug in the emergency power because the rain did seep into the electrics again and we need light in the bathroom...

The 3 yr old has settled himself down next to the kittens under the fully loaded clothes horse, some of the others are watching the last bits of a film... HOOK I think...

It's a nice start to a weekend which might deteriorate at some point into siblings screaming at one another... the 3 yr old doing what he does best and creating all kinds of havoc, and me screaming at the 14 yr old in my life to clear his room up... it currently looks like a hurricane it it.

The day of course, will be punctuated several times over by prayer, and hopefully some Qur'an.. the nearly 9 yr old has started blessing us with her very own unique Qur'an recital skills.. and as a mother I'm happy to hear the happiness in her voice as she belts out verse after verse... the others of course are different.. siblings don't have the same tolerance levels as peaced out mums....

Breakfast is nearly here... the eldest has made crepes while I've been sitting here... the 12 yr old is about to brave the rain to buy butter... the 3 yr old has been crawling around on the floor pretending to be a cat... and  most of our mattresses are still dotted about the floor... it's time to start.

Time to do something slow, yet constructive... to think about grabbing my knitting bag at some point today too and getting on with that cardigan...

Here is some of our week in pictures....

:: FOURTEEN ::

Sometimes you forget you're such a long way from home...
Sometimes it's just the normal day to day things that keep you from remembering that it's been so long since you sat with your loved ones, and talked over problems, laughed till you cried and shared happiness and sorrows in sometimes unequal measure.


I feel the pull of "home" less these days... often it comes after a hard day, when things just aren't going right.. or when I'm feeling a bit vulnerable...
But the longer I'm here the easier it is to deal with it...
I know we're here for a purpose and it puts things into perspective...

When I told my friends and family that I was intending to make Hijrah they were completely supportive and have borne their own pain and sorrow with loving patience mashallah...
Leaving the UK made a huge impact, not only on our live but on theirs aswell.

They have no idea just how much we love and miss them... friends and family alike. No words would ever be able to do it justice.

Ultimately though, hijrah is a statement. It's the believer putting their faith in Allah... and knowing that despite the pain of separation from loved ones something better will come out of it. That there will be recompense for hardships suffered patiently for His sake...

I don't know if my hijrah will be "forever"... our situation is still quite tenuous at times and we're still struggling to put down roots, what I do know, is that I'm grateful for the opportunity to be here and to be able to strive to get closer to Allah ta'ala in a Muslim land mashallah...

Alhamdulillah, I was rewarded with what I asked for

I pray that I can honour that by striving to be the best muslimah I can be...inshallah...