Tag Archives: Flunking Family

Forgotten Anniversary

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Lying in bed last night I was going over the day’s activities in my head when I realised the date.  2 February.  Crap!  The Turk and I were married 11 years ago today.  The fact that we are still married in itself is a miracle as I have wanted to divorce him or murder him or perhaps break one of his appendages at least once a week since 2 February 2003.  But the more important issue at hand is that both The Turk and I have forgotten our wedding anniversary yet again!

It really should not be that hard to remember an anniversary should it?  After all it happens yearly, that’s the point.  But without fail either I would forget (and am usually reminded by the Accountant at my office who is excellent with dates) or he would forget (maybe it is a cultural thing because anniversaries and birthdays do not seem to be particularly important to anyone in his family) but the fact of the matter is this time we both forgot.

I nudged The Turk a few times until he woke up, “It’s our wedding anniversary today.”

“Huh?”

“2 February.  It’s our wedding anniversary.”

He rolled over and looked at the time on his clock, “It’s after midnight.  Not 2 February anymore.”

And promptly fell back asleep.

A normal wife would probably have exploded or pulled out a voodoo doll with their husband’s DNA attached at this point but I am not a normal wife.  He’s right.  It’s not important.  I have never been one to remember anyway after all I always relied on Bez from the office to remind me (Bez why didn’t you remind me?!).

This morning I woke up and, remembering that I had forgotten my wedding anniversary (huh?), I set forth to make brunch for The Turk and Daughter.  The Turk had already left to go and help his brother deliver maydanoz (parsley) so I had plenty of time to prepare.  Daughter was happy – pancakes are always welcome for a breakfast treat.

10:00 am and my feast is ready to be consumed when there was a knock on the door.

“Kim o?” Who is it?

Unknown Turkish voice came from the other side of the door giving me a nonsensical Turkish reply.  Why do I bother asking?

I opened the door to discover a huge man standing in the doorway.  This man was seriously as large as the door itself wearing all black including a big, black, bushy beard.  He was no doubt a murderer or a terrorist or, well, I just did not have a clue but he scared the shit out of me!  I stepped backwards at the sight of him but then focused on what he was holding in his arms.  2 dozen perfect blue roses.  Blue roses!  I do not think I have ever seen a blue rose before!  The giant pushed the roses to me grunting some more nonsensical Turkish words at me and then disappeared down the stairs.  Daughter began squealing and jumping around and I was stood at the front door dumbfounded.

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By the time The Turk arrived home fifteen minutes later I had managed to regain my composure and locate/borrow enough vases to arrange my beautiful blue roses around our home.

“Darling.  Did you get my present?  Seni cok seviyorum.  And do you want to know the best part?”

“What?”

“They only cost 20 lira!”

Daughter threw the book that she was reading at The Turk, “Daddy!  Shhh!  How unromantic!  Jeeze!”

That’s my husband – always on the lookout for a bargain.  Happy (belated) Anniversary anyway.

Sex in the Stairwell

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Not me and The Turk – get your minds out of the gutters people.  It is mating season for cats in Turkey at the moment and the Village Kediler have been busy at it morning, noon and night.  My mother in law had what we fondly called “the whacking stick” to give a good tap to any cat who ventured too close to her Nanu or any of its offspring.  Of course since my mother in law passed away I (and My Hurley Dog) have taken on the job of protecting the strays from lusting he-cats.

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As you all know from my posts here and here My Hurley Dog is not a fan of Nanu and this revulsion is equally reciprocated by her however since the onslaught of two particularly nasty (and horny) he-cats My Hurley Dog and Nanu have maintained a relatively calm cease fire.  Nanu has been cornered on more than one occasion by the nasty he-cats and My Hurley Dog upon hearing it or seeing it races past Nanu straight for the culprit.  It seems that My Hurley Dog has accepted that he must share his domain with the Villager Kediler but dog damn it (typo but stays) he will not share with these two interlopers that have nothing but sex on the mind.

Last night it all came to a head when it seems I forgot to lock the downstairs door thereby allowing our stairwell to become, well, a bordello for the evening.  At around 3 am the sound of horny he-cats coupled with screeching she-cats woke us all up.  Daughter screamed thinking we were under attack, The Turk merely put a pillow over his head and went back to sleep which left me and My Hurley Dog to go and stop the onslaught.

Opening the front door I was confronted with the site of Nanu and two of her offspring screaming past me followed by big buff ginger and white he-cat spitting fire as he ran up the stairs in hot pursuit.  Well this was all My Hurley Dog would stand for and he slid past me and chased all 4 of them onto the roof.  I too gave chase (grabbing my whacking stick on the way) and arrived on the rooftop to witness he-cat on top of small ginger girl, Nanu attacking he-cat from behind and My Hurley Dog throwing himself into the mix.  I ran screaming, ninja style across the roof wielding my whacking stick and sent all 4 of them in different directions.  Just then the light came on from my niece’s window next door and My Hurley Dog and I came to a running halt, shocked by the light or perhaps embarrassment.  My niece stuck her head out the window “Ne yapiyorsun?” (What am you doing?).

I must have looked ridiculous standing there in my ugg boots, wielding my whacking stick at non-existent cats (as all of them scattered as soon as the light came on).  I sheepishly waved goodnight and ran back downstairs, locked the security door and returned to my bed.  Daughter informed me that it sounded like elephants were running across the roof (thank you!) and The Turk asked me to get him a glass of water!

Good night!!

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My Kedi Cat

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My Kedi Cat has lived a few lives since she came into this world.  Her first life was that of a stray.  Part feral, she and her mother lived in a dumpster bin behind a warehouse complex.  Caught they were taken to the Animal Welfare League which was where she began her second life when Daughter and I adopted her New Year’s Eve 2011.  She was a nasty little blighter.  She hated me with a passion.  Daughter and The Turk were accepted as her humans but me – nope – she would bite, scratch, hiss and attack me by throwing herself from the vestibule when I passed by.  I did not call her by her name Kedi (which is Turkish for cat) I called her “that bloody cat that hates me” or “that black cat that hates me” if Daughter was within earshot.  “TBC” for short.

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When we discussed moving to Turkey and taking our fur-friends I have to be honest, I did not want to bring TBC.  There are enough cats in Turkey do we really need to bring one with us?  I argued, I begged, I pleaded but to no avail.  Both The Turk and Daughter (and apparently My Hurley Dog) wanted TBC to come to Turkey too.  So putting aside the extra cost of bringing TBC to Turkey I realised that this particular cat never spends any time indoors.  In fact after we adopted her it only took her a few days before she escaped and lived in the backyard.  This of course is a new problem as we could not let her out of our home in Turkey as those Karaduvar “Kamikazi” cats (have a read about these terrors here or here)  will no doubt kill her on sight.  So what do we do?

You may recall when The Turk arrived in Mersin he immediately instructed builders to extend our balcony and it now wraps its way around the front of our apartment.  It is a good size, certainly not huge, but enough to keep My Hurley Dog and TBC out of trouble and to give them some outdoor area.  It is still not finished yet (we are now onto our second builder – don’t ask) but both My Hurley Dog and TBC spend time out there already in the sunshine, the dog helping the builders and the cat stalking birds and watching the neighbourhood cats.

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I must say that TBC has moved into her third life quite well.  I worried that she would try and escape or suicide off the balcony, but no, she is happy to sit in the sunshine or in front of the heater.  After her initial jetlag (she spent the first two weeks awake all night and sleeping all day) she has now acclimatised and other than a few crazed moments at 3am she is generally quite happy to sleep on my bed or sit with me, as she is doing right now, on my desk as I type my blog or check my emails.

That bloody cat that hates me has morphed into My Kedi Cat that I love.  My mother in law called her a princess and she was rarely wrong about anything.  Yes I agree.  A princess.

Let’s talk about cheese

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My love of cheese is legend – wait for it – ary!  Legendary!  I will eat cheese anytime, anywhere and in any manner.  I will have it for breakfast, as a snack, as a main meal, hot, cold or even as a cake.  Cheese.  Peynir.  Nom, nom nom!

Last week I was called by my mother in law down to her kitchen.  Bubbling on the stove was a huge pot of milk (which I subsequently learned was in fact yogurt).  Once boiled she strained the yogurt (separating the whey) into three parcels wrapped in clean cloth, tied it up and let it hang in the kitchen.  Cheese!  She made cheese!

I returned to her kitchen yesterday afternoon to find her mixing the cheese with red pepper paste (which we had made a few weeks earlier), dried thyme and a butt load of salt.  She rolled the cheese into balls, placed them on a large metal plate and put them in the sun on top of my garage where they will stay until they dry.

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If I ignore the flies that are constantly congregating over the cheese at the moment I am sure it will taste delicious when ready.  This spicy cheese is usually eaten in the morning with ekmek (bread), domates (tomatoes) and a drizzle of yağ (oil).

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My mother in law tells me that she has made this cheese for The Turk as it is his favourite.  Yes the prodigal son will return to her next weekend and she is very excited!  I guess I am excited too.  Daughter is currently indifferent but will probably change her tune when he actually gets here.