The Christmas that almost didn't happen....

The idea to get a super special, very technical, brand new model, Taylormade putter seemed good at the time. This was after I dropped the rental car at Avis; battled onboard the shuttle to terminal 3 at Heathrow, only to stand among a million people other waiting to hear news about the Emirates flight EK004, which was, at that very minute, circling above us and would either land, or get diverted to Charles De Gaulle airport in Paris. Well what would it be? London or Paris?
Just in case everyone was hard at hearing, the guy with the MEGAPHONE made it clear that "IF YOU WERE BOOKED ON THE EK004 YOU SHOULD NOW LEAVE THE AIRPORT AND COME BACK TOMORROW"...right then - I guess it landed in Paris! Off I went with my suitcase and the three giant shopping bags that held the already acquired golf travel bag, 3 pairs of shoes and umpteen other things I had bought, before leaving for the airport.

The taxi line was 2 miles long, so I abandoned that idea as quickly as my head could whip around towards "Underground".... signal failure - SH*T!! A few inches of snow and all of Southern England comes to a screeching halt?? Down into the tunnel I went, lugging bags and listening to broken conversations on my way: "....saying that we can't.....first chance Christmas Day....yes we have a hotel....mom that we miss her" -- "...British Airways.....so we are in line at.....call and tell....late for work...." OH MY GOSH! I could see the elevators from my vanish point, but to reach it I would have to crawl over 326 luggage carts, 35 children, 196 suitcases and 5 "I am here to help" customer service people, trying to control the mob.

54 minutes later I reached the platform where Heathrow Express stops; I was relieved to find that there was only 4 minutes to the non-stop train to Paddington. It was shortlived! The train pulled up so far past me that it missed me by 100 yards. Like a hundred ants following a trail of sugar we all moved towards the last car and the one open door, as if our life depended on it. This was a scene out of Armageddon....I'm on the phone asking Aric to find me a hotel in the city as I knew all hotels around the airport would be booked by the horde of people stranded. Meanwhile the next train comes...and this time it stops SHORT of where I am standing...IS THIS A GODDAMN JOKE??? Finally I latched on to a big burley guy who was from Glasgow (and they are burley) - he told me to stand right behind him and when the next train pulled up he would clear a path for me...in the meantime I got to know all about the job he was supposed to have worked on in Spain, had he actually made his flight - and all about his girlfriend and her two kids and the dog who was sick and the great grandma who was supposed to visit from Edinburgh....I just tuned out and made for the door when the train pulled up.

The Heathrow Express to Paddington normally takes 15 minutes but 28 minutes later we pulled in. Dragging my luggage towards the taxi line outside I already realized it would be a lost cause. With 10 below zero and more snow in the forecast, every London taxi driver was snuggling under a feather duvet. I was dragging my suitcase through grey icy muck for two miles to the nearest hotel, so I could try to flag down a cab. At the Hilton Millenium I waited 15 minutes and by the time I reached the Grand at Trafalgar Square across London, where Aric had found a room for me online, I was so worked up that only a stiff Cosmo and Sushi dinner could calm me down!

In hindsight, I probably should have made my way out of London when my colleagues were rushing from our management meeting, because there was snow in the forecast. I thought, "what's a little snow?" I've lived in Chicago for 17 years and you don't see airport closure until you've lived there! So, I rev'ed up my Avis rental wreck and drove to my friend Sally. I did this because she recently put Harley down. Harley was my big wonderful horse whenever I was in town. Ever the gentleman, he was 18 and just got too sloppy on his front legs, so it was time to put him out to pasture. Long story short, he ended up being put to sleep just a week prior to me arriving, so Sally and I were drowning our sorrows at the "Donkey" pub in Elstead, and when I woke up the next morning, we were effectively snowed in!

That's how I eventually found myself at the Super Golf Store, off Regent Street, with a putter, balls, jacket, tees and a variety of other golf accessories, which 2 days later would find their way under the tree and into Aric's stocking, in Dubai.

Once they re-opened Heathrow, I was again struggling to find a cab and this time the golf travel bag was filled with more presents....and the aforementioned putter.

Christmas Eve we took in a few stragglers....Kevin from the US, who is here on an assignment with Cisco and whose wife hasn't joined him yet; Tina, my sister-in-law who just arrived on the 20th with my niece Josefine, who were both abandoned by my brother because he was picked for flights while everyone else in FlyDubai was off; and Elona and Andrew, Courtney's parents - alone and missing their daughter, who is off camping with Aidan in Australia!

The fridge/freezer stopped working around 9am, just when we put the icecream in. We had to rush through the turkey, so we could salvage a little of the vanilla moosh before it became liquid cream. However, in good spirit, we saluted & drank to our kids far away and enjoyed the good company around the table - (with me saying a little prayer, thanking someone above for bringing me home, while so many other families were kept apart for Christmas, due to the weather).
Aric got his putter and I got a racing bike, which I have already clocked 30km on!

Your Mission, should you decide to accept it.....

Hannah, Lorraine, Robin

Pia & hairstylist Katie

Brad Bird, Director, with the best extra girls ever!

......will be to stand up 15-16 hours per day, in high heels and a fancy ball gown, while the Director takes his sweet time arranging every little detail from Paula's hair strands behind her ear, to the exact level of Scotch (aka ice tea) in the tumbler, to Tom's bow-tie straightness, to the music level, to the position of the lamp by the bar to the....and I can go on and on and on....

Just came off the set of 'Mission Impossible:4 - Ghost Protocol' starring Tom Cruise, Lorraine Martensson and Pia Ault, plus a full cast of Hollywood wannabe's taking you behind the scenes of a major motion picture!

There is something about the sound of..."just came off the set of" - sounds like I do this for a living! Well, there clearly ARE people who do this 'extra' work for a living. Take Ricky Gervais' BBC comedy spoof on extras, called..."The Extras" for example, about that very phenomenon! You watch several episodes before you embark on a real set and you can pretty much laugh at yourself :) My point is, you really can't take yourself too serious and there is definitely a reason why the crew in charge of us 'extras' tell you why you should not approach the actors on set! You can make a total ass of yourself.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gR81gKiKXoE&feature=related

Our local paper had a big article in the September issue about Tom Cruise filming the latest sequel of MI in Dubai. It also said they needed about 1000 extras, business people between 35-50...I thought, yep that fits me, since I am 39, so I signed up and gave them a picture and clothing size details.
After a few weeks I got shortlisted as did Lorraine and Robin (my spinning buddy)- so we were all giggles when we were called to the fitting. Imagine, showing up to the production location and picking out a ball gown, jewelry, shoes and handbag FOR FREE, which makes you look like a million bucks and then having to be background to TOM CRUISE? It was truly a once in a lifetime experience which allowed us to act like silly teen girls for 3 days :)

The night before we started shooting, none of us could sleep - afraid to oversleep and miss our call at 6.30 had us tossing and turning. We arrived on the Palm, at the Zabeel hotel (which is 3 weeks away from opening, so was all empty and presented a perfect back drop for the "Mumbai" style charity ball - supposedly taking place in India in the film). We were escorted from the parking lot to the 'extra' large tent where we registered and got our X badge. Then on to 'make-up and hair' for an hour and then into 'wardrobe' to get into our costumes...we were among 350 people who had been picked from 3500 so we were clearly the cream of the crop in terms of talent (or so we convinced ourselves)! After we were fully ready, pampered and powdered, we went to a holding area (later known as the holding tank) women separate from men (as we are in a muslim country) where we waited, and waited, and waited, for 2 hours until the producer came and picked up 7 women. We had been firmly instructed to leave camera and phones behind; signed releases and non-disclosure agreements stating we would under no circumstances take any photos on set. Seeing the 7 women leave prompted much discussion among the rest of the 170 or so women...were they getting special treatment, what made them so outstanding, yada yada...the bickering among the cats was outstanding and we hadn't even started filming yet! There were all kinds...young, old, black, White Asian, Indian, European,I would guess 30-40 different nationalities and likely as many different temperaments!

Lorraine, Robin and I stayed together and went with the flow. When we finally got herded upstairs to the lobby and giant hall of the hotel, the crew was still busy organizing the set, cameras and props. Tom was standing right in the middle by the fountain reading some papers and discussing the script I'm guessing, since he is both writer and producer on this film. It was so unexpected to walk in and see him right there, live, in jeans and T-shirt, and consequently we all just gasped. More giggles from the three of us, as we were directed to find empty seats next to the bar area, where the scenes were to be shot.

Lorraine and I picked a table in the back, Robin sat on a couch with two others and it took us a good hour to realize why everyone left our area and moved up by the fountain. Tom and Paula Patton - 'Precious', were to walk in from the front door, walk around the fountain and towards the bar - a 50-60 foot walk, right through several extras, and for Jeremy Renner-'The Hurt Locker', to meet them halfway and say some code, to which Tom replies "copy that". Lorraine and I, oblivious to all this as we sipped our fake champagne (ginger ale) were not even in the camera view. I'd never make it as a professional extra...these Divas use fangs and claws to get into the camera's vision and we soon found ourselves battling a silent war where only the fittest among bitches survive. The scene was shot 12 different times from 6 different views over the next 7-8 hours - we eventually learned and got to position ourselves in the background of where the camera was pointing! Not a good first day on the set, but clearly success in that we got to see Tommy close up.

The next day we showed up at 10am, since we had worked until 12.30am the night before. We were ready for prime position and this time we didn't get bowled over by the other primadonnas. We had started naming and shaming the true outrageous women who practically threw themselves at the Director. 'Pinkie' was a Portugese/American, dressed in a pink Sari; a middle-aged 'professional extra' who 'had done five other movies and knew how one should play the game' - oh boy did she ever...she was practically behind Tom in every single shot! In fact, for continuity we had to remain in our original spots for every scene so it doesn't look weird when the movie is edited. In other words if you are in one shot where you stand next to a lamp with a glass in hand, facing another person, you must stand in the same spot, with same glass, in same hand,facing same person regardless of where the camera is shooting from. Makes total sense. Pinkie was moving with Tom, and was in every shot from every angle and it didn't matter to her that she was standing with different people in the shot! By the time we wrapped on Day 3, she had been warned 4 times and was moved around and out of the frame several times because she ruined the scenes. We figured she had also slept on set so she was ready for Tom, and we joked that she most likely did the desert scenes with him, as well as dangled off Burj Khalifa with him...

Then there was Swedie...a tall, blond, model from Malmo Sweden, who walked around with an innocent smile and played totally dumb; the crew loved her personality (what personality???...or her boobs and ass...not sure)-and she featured with several of the producers in the corners. During the wrap party, the assistant director told us that Swedie had approached her and said with the finest Swedesh accent, " I reeely think it is taaim to put foocuus more on me and put me in frooont of the kameraa" - to which he had replied: "I really think that when you become the f***ng director you can tell me what to do!" - OH we loved the drama.

And 'porn-girl' who posed on several of the couches on set for the gaffers and set-crew to take iPhone shots of her in her shimmer and shine red sequin dress!

Or how about 'Silver'...an older, very classic gray haired lady (62) who was dressed in a stunning silver Grecian-style dress; whose husband of 30 years was also an extra and on the set, and who made a big deal out of the fact that they had been happily married 30+ years...she was caught by one of our co-extra males, in the men's room kissing a younger man on Day 3! And then there was the Emirates pilot Richard 'the flyer' who missed Day 1, came late on Day 2, and when changing in to his Tuxedo, told the wardrobe attendant, Zak, to "fetch me a soda" (Zak is a good friend of Aric's and a fellow Mastercraft owner)!! He told the 'Flyer' to go fetch it himself.

We also endured 'goldie' an Indian snob in a gold sari who walked in front of us deliberately in several scenes where we had been asked to walk by the Director Brad Bird. The worst Diva behavior must have been 'Bar-Girl' a fortunate Indian woman who happened to randomly position herself right at the bar, and as a result, she is (or was) in every single shot and angle shot by the bar of Tom, Paula and Anil Kapoor (Slumdog Millionaire)- she would have been on the big screen right in front with the main cast, for the whole ball scene, had she not stood up Day 2 and said "I really want to be a movie star but I don't want to put in 12 hour days" - alrighty then, I think you can kiss that career goodbye then. And since she did not show up on Day 3 like the rest of us (minus 60% of the extras) she was cut out and the scene re-shot. Brad Bird, JJ Abrams (producer and writer), Tom and Mike Kehoe, gathered all of us around late Day 2 and pretty much pleaded with us to stay until 2am and to come back the next day so they could finish shooting the scenes. It would have been a big problem for continuity had we all stayed away. They motivated the entire crowd and promised that we will all be invited to a pre-screening next year when the movie premieres in Dubai. I won't hold my breath, but the pep talked worked. We were all very tired and it is hard work to stand and wait for hours while the crew gets the staging right, but that's the movie business. It's not glamorous and "dinner with Tom" - we were never promised other than 12 hour days and 500 dirhams per day.

There are no unions and actors guild here in Dubai so it is what it is, and besides, most of us have a regular day job! Lorraine, Robin and I were treated well, had fun and met so many lovely people during the 3 days. I even got to talk to Tom, initiatied by him, not me (as approaching the actors was a no-no) so what else can I ask for?

They surprised a select group of extras with a special invite to the wrap party; a mere 10-12 of us went to an Irish bar on the evening after wrapping Day 3; it was so much fun to chat with everyone involved. This is their life and passion and to learn what goes into making a movie was fascinating.

So, Mission Impossible: Accomplished and until Dec 16, 2011 - "standby, background aaaand ACTION" !

Wrroom Wrroom

The "winter" season in Dubai always brings a myriad of events to the region: Film Festivals, Concert Series, Horse Racing, Golf and Rugby events and competitions like Marathons and open water swimming. The F1 grandprix was no exception. We scored free tickets from our friend Al who works as a security consultant for the Crown Prince of Abu Dhabi. Not only did we have front row seats at a perfect section of the track, resulting in deafness and neck sprain from the roar and spped of the go-fast cars whizzing by, but the tickets also included entry to the concert that night. Linkin Park gave a fantastic performance for 2 hours and we rocked like a pair of teenagers in college, with our fists in the air...this dormant behavior surfaces at the most remarkable times :)

In between the qualifying race and the concert, we were invited on to the Crown Prince's Dhow (no he didn't show up - I suspect he was at his 'VIP' yacht moared further down in the marina) where we were served a full spread of Arabian Mezze and drinks (none for me - I'm in AA until my wine intolerance lets up ;-) . There was a steady stream of very tall and beautiful Russian girls headed to many of the big yachts - I wonder how the owners of the yachts have so many female friends from Russia...quite curious? Their fashion sense was immaculate albeit skimpy!

Lorraine and Peter, our friends for 3 years now since we met at the kids school admissions testing, joined us for most of the day - Lorraine and I tried to win a Porsche, but I haven't received a call yet from the promoters! Must ask Lorraine if she was the lucky one. The cars were fast and furious and I can see why men lust after these strong and loud machines...personally I'm more of a one horse powered breed myself.

As Lorraine's sister works for FIFA Abu Dhabi, which just merged with Flash, the live event organizer, we are fortunate to get tickets for some of the fantastic concerts scheduled for the season. Nov 26 has us attending Nelly Furtado live - Hunter wanted to go but we have to drive him to Abu Dhabi, so we figured we may as well do dinner with Lorraine and Peter who have to drive their girls, and then see some of the concert. Time to yell and put my hands in the air again! Sigh ;-)

Can you stomach it?

The last few weeks have been life altering and very focused on our general health. What began as an annoying: "teenage fatique, surely-the-boy-is-faking-being-tired-all-the-time-syndrome", (Hunter sleeping 16-18 hours every day), has turned into major medical testing, accupuncture and practically becoming Jamie Oliver in the kitchen. We thought we were fit as fiddles, exercising regularly, eating healthy - especially after Aric's heart attack a year ago. But apparently it's not how healthy you eat; it's what you eat and how your body breaks it down, as well as how intolerant you are to certain things.

An article in the newspaper (which we now get regularly every morning again after the thief in the night was arrested) had me ponder on just what we actually fill ourselves with and how it may affect our mood and wellness. Simple things in your daily diet can make life miserable for you! Turns out that we made Hunter sick every day by feeding him toast, cereal, milk, smoothie with pineapple, followed by dinners including kidney beans and wheat pasta. The boy is in fact intolerant to wheat, pineapple, casein (in dairy and cheese) beans, and about 130 other strange foods and ingredients. So his body reacted by producing more and more adrenaline to deal with the "stressful" situations of having to breakdown the "poisons" - and in the end, the adrenal glands couldn't keep up, resulting in severe fatigue and weightloss, anemia and headaches. Poor kid!

We went to see the MD who was featured in the article, - Dr. Heather Eade - and who specializes in homeopathy, Chinese Medicine, acupunture and nutrition. She had Hunter pegged within 10 minutes by looking at him and asking lots of questions. A bloodtest ($250) later, and we had the verdict! Off the 'poisons' for 3-4 months to give the body ample rest and time to build up new immunes to these foods.

We were so shocked that Aric and I scheduled appointments too. Aric's results were a spitting image of Hunter's, plus he tested intolerant to Brewers Yeast (so off the beer and wine for 3 months). My results were more optimistic, I'm only intolerant to flax and spelt; Redwine and Cocoa....I nearly went into convulsions when I saw that result!! 6 weeks without my dark chocolate and Pinot!!??!! In addition, the Canoodian from Toronto, sticks sharp needles 1/2 inch into our body twice weekly to clear Aric's chronic sinus infections and my under-performing adrenal glands, plus a few age related hormonal imbalances! Maybe I can avoid going PMS on everyone!

Hunter has improved drastically in the first 1-2 weeks; he is sleeping normal 7-8 hours at night and is able to get out of bed and stay alert and energetic every day in school. I feel super healthy and energetic too...haven't had a drop of alcohol in 5 weeks now; wonder if she can do something about my gray hair showing up? and Aric is sticking to Gin and Tonic when we go out, so he is seeing great results too. We are on all sorts of natural supplements and I can highly recommend going for a thorough check-up to see if you might be intolerant to your food. It's worth it before it turns into a full fledged allergy for life.

So I enjoy and look forward to this quirky lady checking my liver and kidney "meridian" every week, getting my Yin Yang in balance :)

Should you want to know more....
http://www.acupuncture-online.com/tradition3.htm

well there goes that weekend!

It's the most pleasant and calm weather, Thursday afternoon and Aric has plans to take Hunter and his friend, his dad and a girlfriend out wakeboarding tomorrow morning. I wish they would stop lying about the weather. Do they think we are stupid? Anyone looking out at the ocean horizon can see it's a beautiful day - now they are censoring the weather?

Dear Boaters,

Please be advised that due to the current weather conditions, Coast Guard is not approving any sailing permits at present (effective since 10:30am). Of course the DMYC team will resend your applications at regular intervals and keep you posted.

Thank you for your understanding,
Wishing you a most enjoyable weekend

It's funny how the bad weather (must be a tsunami or storm brewing off the coast of Iran!) coincides with one of the founding fathers, Saud, a 96-year old Sheikh, dying yesterday and the Emirates being in mourning for 5 days. We are already enduring death music on all radio stations - as usual. Why can't they just say "because of so and so dying, and the nation is mourning, we have cancelled all fun for expats and anyone looking to go on a boat is therefore prevented from such escapades".

I'm strugling with the whole cover-up mentality here and fabrications of how they can "keep the facade" to the world! I'm sure it's a conspiracy to do away with Halloween this weekend.

Luckily Hunter is too big to trick or treat and we are still sneaking out for a dress-up party :)

Taking the obvious for granted

The caption of the picture reads: "Children play with fallen leaves in a Bucharest park yesterday. As autumn sets in, leaves change color and fall to the ground, signalling the end of summer." GULF News is spot on! That's exactly what happens when leaves die and seasons change (has every year since I was born!) Changing seasons are unknown to the local Arabs, so we may very well see another caption next week stating the obvious: "Children build giant snowman in Central park in NYC. As winter sets in, temperatures fall and rain freezes and turns into hard white crystals that can be molded into figures ".

We forget that generations here come from tribes in the desert, mountains and along the coast and that most have never seen four seasons. They rely on the wind, the fog, to signal summer's end.

Two days ago we woke up to dense fog (so dense they had to warn motorists on the highway to slow down - of course noone could see the sign for fog) - that's our signal that summer is ending and that the Shamals (winds) are coming, bringing sand storms and the long awaited rain.

We've already endured in two BBQ's and this coming Friday it's another pool and BBQ gathering at a colleague's house. Boots and cardigans find their way out of the closet, smelling of moth balls; time for jeans shopping again.

Slim is on speed - high speed - with lower temps he gets a new energy boost and practically hauls me around the lake, horizontally. Aric and I have started riding our bikes around the compounds and subdivisions early morning before traffic starts up. It's a great feeling and makes it so worth living here.

Hunter turned 17 last week and really selected a big night out: dinner with mom and dad at Yo! Sushi, followed by a movie that must have missed the red carpet....Scott Pilgrim - a real movie with cartoon "boom pow kabong" inserts! Look out for that one to blow the blockbuster earnings!

Thursday evening he invited 20 friends over for a party in the back yard. Thinking he is the new DJ Tiesto, Hunter Ault, AKA "DJ Virtue" took over the kitchen for some spin and scratch and major mixing...music that is... not drinks. The gathering went off without a major hitch (guess he learned something from the golf course incident after all). I've asked him to focus on school however, as for now all he shakes is the house and not the "DJ world" with his club anthems.

The Curious Incident of the Newspaper in the Night-Time

The past 5-6 months we have found that our Gulf News paper has been missing on certain days. Paying promptly for a 12 month subscription, one would expect the paper to be on the front door step by 6.30am, when we get up to have our coffee. But every week - at least once or twice, no paper! Contacting the delivery guy, he assured me he delivers every day, to the door. This was beginning to smell like a case for Sherlock Holmes. I told him someone must be taking the paper and asked that he place it inside the carport, in front of the cars so if they want to grab it, they have to come all the way up to the carport entry door - a pretty gutsy move (as we sleep tight and Slim somehow hasn't learned to bark at strangers). So the delivery guy has put the paper at the carport door. That helped. We had a few months of error free days. So we relaxed our guard and so did the delivery guy - he started throwing the paper at the front door again (which is closer to the street than the carport door) - I can draw you a diagram but I think that's too anal.

Then, after returning from holidays, the same thing started again....I was considering putting up CCTV or sitting awake all night with a flashlight to catch the sucker. But it remained a consideration - who really sits all night with a flashlight to catch a newspaper thief. Instead, I asked the delivery guy to put the paper at the back again. Last night he rang the door bell. With much pride he told me, "madam, other houses have been missing papers, number 35, 41, 66 and yesterday I saw a guy looking strangely at your paper which was placed by the car, so I followed him quietly and sure enough, at number 66 he took the paper and I stopped him"! Holy cow, I was right, it was a thief in the night - or rather - early hours between guard shifts, exactly at 6.30-6.45 am when nobody is around. Security and police was called and it turns out it's a Filipino man in number 51, helping himself to a year's free subscription of Gulf News!! My delivery guy was so happy, because he no longer has to go to the carport entrance with the paper - shaving off 2.3 seconds at our house means he can finish sooner before the sun comes up and heats up the neighborhood. I may even renew my subscription now!

The past month has been spent assisting Aidan with his college applications. I do not recall it being such a complicated task when I applied to Southern Illinois University, with a paper application and a regular stamp! It's now all on-line and you have to have a Masters Degree in Computer Science to figure out the website manuevering and uploading of documents. Try doing that for eight (8) !! universities. Aidan is going for the shotgun approach to get in to a school with a decent Industrial Design program. His essays and personal statements make me laugh out loud - the kid is brilliant in his very own AD/HD sort of way, with logic only he could think up. When he says he's "a unique and rare individual" (no argument there) I can only imagine what the admissions counselor will think when he/she reads that phrase. On the other hand, I shudder when I look at the admissions info page where "tuition and fees" are listed. It surpasses my 401K plan! Anyway, today is D-Day - all the transcripts and recommendation letters will be couriered from Dubai International Academy to each university in the States. Fingers crossed we will have a positive response from either Arizona State, North Carolina State or Appalachian State - his top 3 choices. Southern Illinois University will no doubt take him due to sheer family history - I mean with two parents who survived Playboy's number one rated party school in the 80's - who wouldn't accept an Ault? But somehow I feel he should go somewhere else....North Carolina is close to Mark and Amy, and to his God-Father Bruce (another SIU graduate who survived with us :) and with us so far away, in Dubai, it's nice to know he is close to someone we like (read: mother who is having separation anxiety!!)

My neighbor Jill (the Canoodian across the street, whose dog Crosby, named after the hockey player, Slim pounces daily) talked me into joining her newly founded book-club. I've heard about these clubs...bunch of desperate housewives sipping wine and gossipping about the neighbors and other mothers in the school! But she assured me this one was different. She lured me with a free book - making the choice an easy one. So I read "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time" by Mark Haddon, in two days and loved it. Was I prepared to discuss why I loved it? Well, let's just say I met a group of very nice and fun ladies, from UK, Canada, Sweden and survived! So we're on again next month, with "The Sandfish" - a novel by a local author, set in Dubai.