Well, Hot Dog

Hi all,
Just a silly short post today as I spent a lot of the day trying not to be underfoot with older relatives around visiting.

Why a "Hot Dog"?
Is exactly the question HD put to me as he handed me what they like to call "sausages" after G's basketball training session today. Granted, this hotdog was topped not only with ketchup, but also with french fries and mayo (urg?), but was most definitely a hot dog. I proffered several explanations, my top two being perhaps that they were rumored to be made out of dog meat, or that they looked like Wiener dogs (with Wiener coming from Vienna just like frankfurters coming from Frankfurt!). But I honestly told him that I didn't know. So, I did what every post graduate knows will unduly aggravate their English teachers do: I looked it up on Wikipedia. (I have one Prof who is a Chaucer Goddess and likes to go on and mess around with facts about him, she despises the open domain format and the reliability that people assume comes from it!) It pretty much corresponded with my thought Wikipedia states that meat grinders were suspected of/ rumored to be putting dog meat into their sausages as early as 1845. Apparently there were also links to show the use of the phrase "hot dog" as early as the 1890's. So, there you have it! Maybe.

Hope all is well,
Steph

My Poor Ovaries

Hi all,
I've learned some nice Turkish traditions/customs that I've enjoyed finding out about, so I thought I'd share!

Not Only Good for Running With...
Yes, it's scissors. While watching a Turkish soap opera (or mini-drama, whichever you prefer) that seem to abound here, I noticed a funny scene. Seemingly reminiscent of the Princess and the Pea, two old ladies asked the young girl to have a seat - gesturing her over to an empty couch. She sat down, yelped, and immediately jumped up again. The ladies ran over and crowed, ho. Throwing their heads back and sticking their thumb in between their teeth. (Shakespeare style...). Confused, I asked G what had just happened. Apparently there is an old belief that if a pregnant women takes the test, whichever she sits on indicates the gender of the baby. I believe that scissors stood for a girl, and the knife for a boy. As for the thumb....

The Only Appropriate Place for a Thumb
The biting thumb gesture indicates fear (much like we would hold a hand over our mouths, I suppose). Now, if you hold your thumb poking out between your first two fingers, it's the equivalent of our middle finger. So, not recommended! And finally...

Yes, I Said Ovaries
In Germany it was customary to have "houseshoes" - essentially slippers that you wore at all times. So I was not surprised to find that they are also common here. Each house usually has a few extra pairs for guests, but not usually for women with my sized feet. It seemed to agitate my HM a lot, and her mother even more. Hm said that she used to walk around everywhere barefoot, which drove her mother up the wall. Apparently there's an old belief that walking around barefoot will cause you to somehow freeze your ovaries and become infertile. I get a kick out of this, as I always have cold feet, socks/slippers or not. However, as soon as she gets around to it, I'm sure another pair of crocs (I know, I know....sigh) will probably be parked by the door for me!

Anyhow, that's about all I have. There were many visitors and neighbors running in and out today, but nothing really too exciting happened. However, tomorrow is sure to be another long day (with perhaps more compliments from neighbor boys about my amazing goalkeeping skills?)...
Hope all is well,
Steph

Vengeance is Sweet

Hi all,
Today wasn't a very interesting day. I got up a little later than yesterday, and came up to find that E. the new housekeeper, had covered breakfast stuff for me. Well, this won't do at all - I don't want her feeling resentful, especially if I decide to just have bread with butter and honey like this morning. I spent a good part of the day in my room reading up on various things, and whenever I attempted to come upstairs something prevented me: strangers ringing the doorbell (which it makes no sense for me to answer!) or a freshly wet landing. About an hour before the boys came home though, I managed to get upstairs!

Let the Games Begin
HM wants me to spend at least a half an hour speaking with G in English. However, he's 11 (almost 12) and doesn't consider me to be the coolest person. So this forced attempt is hard to do. To make matters worse, K needs an eye on him if he's not parked in front of the TV. So after about 20 minutes I went to take K outside for some much needed exercise. Basketball, a made up game and a game of tag later (well over an hour) and we were both tuckered out. I took him inside for a bit to recover (it was starting to get dark, around 7) and he switched the TV on. I thought, ok, let him watch a cartoon or two and I'll draw him into UNO. However, E. ran into the room and started talking to K, and I could make out "No" and "Television" in her diatribe. Now, I know that kids shouldn't have a lot of TV time, but 30 minutes isn't going to kill the kid.

So, I went up to talk to G, (to doublecheck that their mother hadn't said anything to E that she forgot to tell me...) and assured me that I was correct. He went and talked to E. and came back and said that K could watch one show and then had to color. Now, I agree that this is a better plan (especially now that I know they have art supplies at home and know where they are now!) but I slightly resented this intrusion. We have very clearly delineated jobs, as HM has made sure to tell me, and I hope she will respect me enough not to do that again. Sigh. I need to learn Turkish.

Tambala
The kids have a game that they like to play called Tambala. It's kind of like Bingo, but there's 3 winners (the first to get one row across the long card, then two rows then a blackout) and always a "prize". Last time we played with smallish chocolate bars, and so K and I did for the game today. However, there weren't any smaller ones left for the second game that K wanted to play, so I brought up some of the smaller Wonka candy that I'd brought with me. K got bored pretty quickly and proceeded to start flicking his markers under the couch. When I said "No." he promptly took the first prize, a banana laffy taffy. I smiled. Those small ones are pretty tough to open. So I cracked open the mini box of nerds and watched him struggle with it while I cleaned up. 5 minutes later, I poured out some Nerds and said "Mmmmm". We made eye contact and both immediately cracked up. I let him struggle for another minute and then offered to help. Relieved, K carried it over to me, and his eyes grew wide as it took me less than 5 seconds to open it. I think he got the picture.

Anyhow, like I said, a not very exciting day. Tomorrow is the weekend, and hopefully I can introduce and play Apples to Apples Jr with G, HM and HD. We will see...
Hope all is well,
Steph

Mmm...Brains!

Hi All,
Today I kept relatively busy rearranging my room (G got a new bedroom set as he's outgrown his, and so I get to use his "small" desk : ). They also brought up another table...so it's shoved underneath for now. The new housekeeper arrived, and she seems very nice but of course a bit nervous. I'm put in the awkward position of letting her know that she doesn't have to do anything for me and so I'm looking forward to some Turkish conversation as she doesn't speak any English.
Anyhow, back to Brains!

Play Time
K and I went outside to play soccer (Football! Football!) but I soon noticed that one of my "goalposts" (really an olive tree) was teeming with hornets. So I shooed K inside and though I'd pantomimed the problem, made sure that G told him why we couldn't play soccer anymore today. So we switched to basketball for a bit. But eventually he starts to get silly and start throwing ridiculous shots. Sensing a need to find a new distraction, I turned into a Zombie. (Although I managed a good transformation, I think you'd have to be there to appreciate my talent.) Slowly staggering around I moaned "I'm going to eat your Braaaains". Delighted, K ran around, until I eventually caught him in a corner of the garden. I promptly made a slurping noise and announced he was a Zombie too. We staggered our way into the house (arms stiffly held in front of us) while we attacked an unwary G and U. We went to find HM, but she was unavailable. It was a good time and when I told her about it she said "Oh, Zombies? Good!"

Hope all is well,
Steph