Back in Abu Dhabi

We returned to Abu Dhabi two days ago, excluding M and two of the older boys, who are touring Germany until Saturday.

We're wide awake at night and practically comatose in the morning.

Last night we played musical beds: at 1 a.m., my 8-year-old woke me, he couldn't sleep. Two hours later, when I finally heard his soft, steady breathing beside me in my bed, his 9-year-old brother appeared.

With tears in his eyes, my 9-year-old said that he couldn't sleep. He'd noticed his brother's bed was empty and thought he'd been kidnapped. Once he saw his younger brother was still alive, he didn't want to get into my bed with him, so we stumbled down the hall to his room. Around 5 a.m. he, too, fell asleep. My 12-year-old daughter stayed up 'til 4 a.m. finishing the new Harry Potter. My 17-year-old is napping before dinner.

No one is rising before noon.

I am re-living a difficulty I had when we first came to Abu Dhabi a year ago: I keep misplacing things, such as letters I'm about to mail. But I know this will pass.

It is hot, but not oppressive, at 108 degrees. (In New Hampshire it will reach 88 today.) The air looks milky; it is full of sand and moisture.

Perhaps the biggest change in coming back to Abu Dhabi from the U.S. is the brightness of the sun. It is white here, so white I think it will bleach my clothes when I go outdoors.

Some of my plants died when we were in the U.S.
I may have to go to the Iranian Souk for replacements. With the sheer admiration I feel for the date palm trees swaying in the breeze, I'm not sure I can return without a baby palm tree.

The photo above, taken by M, is of the north side of Abu Dhabi.