Friday, February 27, 2009


Dad arrived a week ago, and mum's on her way tomorrow. Dad and I are traveling to the farm tomorrow. I don't know what's come over me, I'm feeling very anti-social these days. I don't have that urge to call anyone in moments of boredom. My dad brought me an iTrip and whilst I was trying to figure how it works with my old radio I discovered that I can pick up the British Forces FM radio channel which is great. I've been listening to it in the car and in my bedroom. I threw the iTrip in my backpack and haven't used it yet. No BFBS radio at the farm though, maybe I should make an FM radio station with my iPod there.

Dad's surprisingly calmer than his usual self and is making me look like the one with the temper. But to be true, my temper has been awful of late. It's been pissing me off so much that every time I bring up the subject of a holiday, my dad comes up with lines suggesting me to forget about it. He's happy with the work I've done, but still is super critical of everything I do. He won't stop correcting my Arabic which is so annoying when he does it. He disapproves of my use of words like 'Okay' when talking to the folks at the farm and was surprised to hear it from a farmer over the phone and figures that the farmer must have learned it from me.

Dad's looking forward to cutting off my umbilical cord. It's the beginning of the end for me. Before I know it, I won't be able to dig my hands for cash into dad's big pockets. I might have to watch my spending. Haven't done that since I was fourteen. No point in worrying about it now. I just hope that I manage to make this plantation turn a proper profit and sustain it. I'm expecting it'll take me two or three more years to get it in order. The strange thing is that the years are passing by faster and faster.

I had doner kebab imported from Turkey for dinner today. It was quite nice, but really heavy on the tummy. Earlier, I was with dad at a woman's house in Zayouna. The woman is some sort of old school high society lady, and she's going to help my dad find me a wife. She was a very nice lady, and she seems to know how it works very well. She told dad that all the 'girls' from the 'good' families have left the country. For a definition of what 'good' family means as far as my dad is concerned, it generally means any family that was considered upper crust back in the day of the kingdom of Iraq. After she said that, I just kept going: "I told you so" to my dad. She also re-iterated the obvious, that any girl abroad would not consider coming back. She said she'll still do her best anyway.

Towards the end of our afternoon with the lady, she mentioned a girl in Dubai that might be suitable and asked whether if it were possible that I come to Dubai for a week, dad said sure. I needed to get up to pee or slip out for a smoke and as I walking out of the room, the lady told my dad that the girl had ditched the last guy because it turned out he was a pothead.

I need to go to sleep, otherwise, I'll be extra cranky tomorrow.


San Antonio Cicily said...

Nice blog! I'm just curious were you raised in Iraq?

Jeffrey said...


Here's an introduction to Shaggy that gives a little more background on his life and blogging career so far:

Shaggy Daze.


Average American said...

Oh oh Shaggy, she ditched the last guy because he was a pothead? Oh oh.

Your father has to be proud of you. It sounds like you did a decent job with the farm and since I have followed your blog, you have matured quite a bit.