Our time in Mersin is very nearly over for this year, and while I’m trying hard to tame the nerves and stress which inevitably build each time I have to face travelling, this time I feel like I should be handing out a few awards or thank yous (yes Macbook I will use you as a plural you autocorrect pedant).
Award for the most consistent: This one is awarded to my facial skin, in particular my chin. Thank you for ensuring that each morning I awake to at least one spot, and if I’m lucky two or three. You have made certain that your task of not allowing me one spot free day the entire time I have been in Mersin, was done most diligently. I have been especially thankful for the additional surprises of cheek spot (and a nice painful one too), and midday eruptions occurring whilst out of sight of a mirror. I do hope that after we leave you will take a break from all your hard work, especially given that I left my teenage years behind quite a while ago now and have never had any desire to relive them.
Award for the biggest arse: This goes to a delightful, yet unknown Istanbul family at least that is where your car is from, who decided that they were above the rules and rather than park on the roadside would drive right onto the beach. No I did not have any sympathy for you as I saw you manically grind your front end in to the sand as you tried to back out and go home. It’s sand you moron, what did you expect? Yes I was the one who reported you to the people who are supposed to look after the beach (another award there) because our beach is meant to be protected. Aside from the fact that it was inevitable you would get stuck, you’re not supposed to drive onto the sand because turtles come and lay their eggs here.
Award to the second biggest arses: Numerous people can step up to collect this one, you’re awarded this for thinking that the private access road to the beach is a race track. Nice to know that my, and other, kids have no idea how much time they have to get out of your way before they may be run down. Car is king after all so us pesky walking types should just get the hell out of your way.
Award for the most useless individuals: This could be handed to so many but sticking with the above theme I have chosen the pointless men who sit in or by the concrete box on the way to our beach. Yes I reported an environmental infringement yesterday, and what did you do? Raced off in your tractor, again allowing my kids to play the dicing with death game, and pulled the arses car out. You returned to thank me that you had helped him, but what about a fine? some sort of punishment? Nah, let’s just shrug our shoulders at that one. So what exactly is the point of you? The beach is filthy and the ‘facilities’ poorly maintained but as with so many I see you’re going for the tea drinking championship.
Most pointless/irritating thing I have bought:
In an effort to follow some advice on helping to improve the kids Turkish, I bought this game. It’s called hadi bakalim and after two days I want to throw it at the wall. The concept is quite good in principle but we don’t really seem to understand the rules. Add to that an annoying tick tock timer and various beeps and weh hay the kids love it. I thought it would be where you’re given a clue and you have to spell out the answer before the time runs out, but bits of the alphabet are missing, there’s no v. We now think a clue is read and each player has ten seconds to think of an answer and press the first letter and bash the hand to reset the timer for the next person. It’s causing tears as Smelly and fatso struggle to think of things in time, and Lai Lai just wants to randomly press all the letters down because it’s weirdly satisfying.
Most zzzzt nationalism blurt: Ok so we can’t help it, we’re all brought up to have national pride but from the outside things can sound, well, a bit crazy. This one is for Husband who I overheard this morning informing the boys that Turquoise was ‘invented’ in Turkey. Ears twitchy, what the? So you’re seriously saying that Turks were the first to mix blue and green? Without even batting an eye he didn’t see the ridiculousness of this. Google to the rescue: origin of turquoise. Clearly not about the colour but the stone, named by the French believing it to come from Turkey but only traded there, actually coming from Iran or there abouts. Response: ‘ha, see it’s Turkish’, sigh. You gave me a laugh this morning so thanks for that.
Award for sudden death: this is not awarded to people but objects. One of the upsides to having a second home is you can arrive without having to pack loads of day to day shit, knowing that your, hopefully reliable, stuff will be there waiting. Trouble is, that stuff starts to get old and being a second home having top notch stuff isn’t your greatest spending priority. Most of our stuff was pretty decent because we did live in Turkey before. Trouble is my fan, which I rely so heavily on when working, and has been battered about from Istanbul to Ankara to Mersin, has now decided to slowly die. I even cleaned it the ungrateful wretch and now it has developed a loose connection, it’s working now after a bit of fiddling about but most likely will not last next year or will create a fire. The second object is washing machine, apparently it took badly to being joggled about and moved to another place. It is currently sulking and refusing to click on, instead doggedly going through repeats of wash, drain, spin, with no intention of stopping unless manually clicked on.
Special award for last ditch heat wave; I should really be giving this one to my fellow blogger Janey, her post just made me howl. It seems that Mersin has decided this last week is going to be hotter than hell. Possibly to punish anyone thinking of returning from their yayla’s in the mountains. We’re normally blessed with a cool breeze being so high up and open, but this last week the breeze has made no difference. The humidity has just cranked itself up along with the temperature and we’re all just dripping. Even sitting is an activity that is uncomfortable. Surprisingly husband has had little to say about me parading about with just vest tops and shorts on while the plumber came.
Finally an award to myself for failure to speak up in an effort to keep the peace:
This is so going to get on my nerves. I should have spoken up, there was plenty of time, we could have moved the tap and drain before the tilers came, especially as the tiles were delivered two weeks late. Especially as I knew the moment I saw what Husband had done that the washing machine couldn’t possibly fit by the loo. I just didn’t want to bear the eruption of Husband who hates having stuff like this done, who had gone ahead and done it while he was here at Easter and we weren’t. The solution is going to be a cupboard to cover it up, but even so, I’m so mad at myself for being such a dumb wimp. Maybe that’s why washing machine is objecting, we moved him here, battering him about, and now he just looks stupid, unable to talk to tap and drain properly.