It began like most of his visits…..me, sound asleep in my recliner: oblivious to anything but my dreams. I left the front door unlocked….sort of like Motel 6: “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you”…. It was about 9:30 in the morning. I don’t know whether he said something….he probably did…..but all of a sudden I had the feeling that somebody else was in the room. I opened my eyes suddenly and looked up…..probably with a startled look on my face….. and there he was….standing there smiling at me. Fayez had arrived for another visit. This visit was not as long as we had originally planned…..or as long as I wanted it to be….but nevertheless, there he was, saying something original like “Wake up.” Fayez has always had a talent for saying original, clever, witty things like that. I shook my head, wiped the sleep from my eyes, and got up to give him a hug.

Wow….this was an exciting encounter. Fayez had brought two gifts to me! The first gift was a huge metal container of dates….which were produced on his family farm back in Saudi Arabia. These dates were plucked off the trees and packed directing into the metal box. No processing; no preservatives; no artificial coloring or flavoring. These dates were fresh off the farm. Fayez had given dates to me before….but never in this sort of commercial packing container….or in this volume.

Getting dates in this volume was a real treat…..and even a delight, if I can believe the many medical benefits and pleasurable physical enhancements that Fayez claims that the dates have. No matter. The dates are just plain delicious. The second gift was a memento that I had long asked for…..but never expected to receive. I figured that if I am ever able to spend a day or two in Saudi Arabia, maybe I would buy one for myself….only as a souvenir. Certainly I would be the only person in Valley Falls….or among my circle of friends….to own one. It was not very practical…..and I realized that I could probably use it only in the privacy of my own home. But….never mind that. I wanted one…mostly just say that I have one. I had asked Fayez a few times previously to bring me one…..or told him that I was going to buy one when…and if…..I went to Saudi Arabia. I do not like to beg for gifts. Gifts should come from the

heart. “It is more blessed to give than it is to receive.” But, he handed me a sack with Arabic writing on it…..and stood expectantly as I looked inside….and removed its contents. It was an Arab robe….or whatever they are called. The flowing gown that is the native dress for Arab men. I had always wanted one of these….but secretly doubted if I would ever own one. But here I was…..standing in my front room with one of these fine garments in my hand…..and hopefully, with a smile on my face. Fayez seemed pleased that I was pleased. I think he knew that he had done a good thing. That he had come across with the perfect gift….the perfect souvenir or memento….. Of course, the next step was to model the gown (I wish I knew the correct term.) I immediately pulled it on over my head. And, believe me…..this is no easy assignment, especially when the only thing I have ever pulled on over my head is a shirt and a sweater. But, after a little effort….there I was modeling my new article of clothing. It was (and is) a little long….about 8 inches…..but I will have it hemmed up….and wear it on cold winter nights as I sit and read in front of the fire.

Benefiting from my….and I emphasize the word MY….advance planning, our plans for the day had already been made. So, as soon as I took off my Saudi Arabian garment, we were ready to start out on the day’s adventures. We grabbed by new…at least, to Fayez….GPS system, got into his car, and headed for Kansas City…..our destination for the day. Under normal circumstances, I would have planned a rather detailed route to follow. But in deference to Fayez….or maybe in honor of Fayez….I skipped this strategy in favor of letting Fayez depend on the GPS that he has come to worship during his short lifetime. We stopped at a Dollar General Store in Tongonoxie en route so I could buy some bandages. No….this was not the result of any sort of violence between Fayez and me. (If it had been….Fayez would have been the one buying the bandages!) But, it was to treat a small, insignificant scratch on my left arm.

I take a drug which helps prevent blood from clotting on the three stents that I have in arteries near my heart. Of course, this is good! Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t be writing this right now. But….as with most good things, there is also a bad side to the story. If it prevents blood from clotting in my heart….then, guess what? Yeah….you guessed it. It keeps blood from clotting almost anywhere and everywhere in the body, too. Even the smallest of cuts or scratches can seemingly bleed forever. It is more annoying and inconvenient than dangerous…..in a very small cut, at least. A cut which might bleed for a few seconds…..or a few minutes, at the most…..can bleed for long periods of time. When I have asked my doctors….and yes, that is plural….about how to stop it, they all say, “Put pressure on it.” Oh come on now. I am not stupid. Do they think I haven’t tried this already? I am (or used to be) a certified First Aid Instructor. Whatever! But, this little incident happened about 6:30 the previous afternoon….and it continued to bleed until after we got home in mid-afternoon. That is why I needed the bandages. Maybe some day, Fayez, as an aspiring doctor, will be able to come up with a solution that seems to elude other doctors: If they are smart enough to devise a drug to prevent the blood from clotting…..surely somebody will be smart enough to figure out a way to make it clot in places where it should clot. But…..I have digressed. Now….back to the story.

As I looked over some possible interesting ways to spend our time in Kansas City, I considered several amusing and appealing possibilities: The Harry Truman Museum and Library; the Kansas City Museum; the World War I Memorial; the Jazz Museum… Kansas City certainly does not lack for things to do. However, we settled on the Arabian Steamship Museum. Fayez is from Saudi Arabia, and this seemed like a very favorable option. It has been said that “You cannot judge a book by its cover.”….and that is quite possibly correct. Stop and think now. If you have never been to the Arabian Steamship Museum….what would you think it is? Yes….that is what we though, too. We assumed that it had something to do with Saudi Arabia….about a steam boat from Saudi Arabia. This would be something that Fayez could relate to…..and maybe even know a great deal about…..

I was thinking, “Great….Fayez will be able to tell me a lot of details that other people don’t know about the things in the museum. He has probably studied all about this stuff in school…..and knows a lot about it.” Or….more accurately, I was thinking, “He is probably still using most of this stuff in his home. For him, most of the things on display are probably things that he uses every day back home.” Camel saddles….goat bells….large pottery jars to carry water from the oasis….maybe a couple sheepskin tents…..some sandals made from camel skin…..

As the little GPS devise pointed the way to the parking lot, both Fayez and I entered the museum….which wasn’t exactly cheap…..with high expectations of being both entertained and informed. We knew almost immediately….well, I did, at least…..that something was not right when there were no pictures of camels, no barren deserts with a caravan in the distance, no date palms growing around a secluded oasis….. Instead we were greeted with a picture of the Missouri River, lined with trees….and a large paddle wheel boat marooned in the center……. Not the desert scene we had anticipated. My heart skipped a beat or two….I reached for my chest…..I had the feeling of being kicked in the rear…… On another level, I felt like an idiot….a gullible sucker who had just been bamboozled by a carnival sideshow barker. But, mostly, I felt like someone who had not done adequate research. I had taken something for face value…..not having bothered to read the fine print. Not even fine print…..I simply had not taken the time to see what the museum was all about.

I don’t know about Fayez. I can imagine that he also was expecting to spend a couple hours that morning looking at relics from his native country….telling his friend (that would be I) all about them. Displaying his vast knowledge of his country……and acknowledge that, “Yes, indeed! Most of these items could be found in my home back in Saudi Arabia.” But, like they say, “When you are given a lemon…..make lemonade.” And….that is what we did. And, it wasn’t so difficult. In fact, the museum turned out to be a rather interesting place to visit. Steamboat Arabia Museum is a unique museum in the fact that it deals only with one subject……in fact, only one boat. It probably wasn’t as dramatic as the sinking of the Titanic, for example. After all, it was a steamboat….it sank in the Missouri River, not the Atlantic Ocean…..nobody lost their life…..and it hit a tree trunk that had fallen into the river and was submerged unseen beneath the water…..not an iceberg. But…..Wow! The ship contained a cargo of about 200 tons of diverse merchandise. The products and goods on the ship were intended for a variety of purposes: to stock new stores that were staring up in newly founded towns along the river; to supply equipment and supplies for farmers along the river; and even materials to build new villages….   Two hundred tons of almost perfectly preserved household supplies, building material, farming equipment, toys and recreational equipment, clothing, kitchen and food necessities, items ordered by individual families….or being sent to them as gifts….. There was not a single camel saddle or desert tent or earthen vessel in sight! Of course, there were also remnants of the wrecked ship: the huge paddle wheel, the hull of the ship, plus examples of the potentially deadly fallen tree trunks that lurk unseen beneath the surface of the muddy river. One interesting bit of trivia we learned was that the ship was not actually discovered in the Missouri River. Because of severe flooding over the years, the river has changed its course several times. This boat was found a few miles from the present day river by a group of adventurous….and far-sighted….friends who correctly concluded that there were possibly sunken ships buried beneath the earth in the paths where the Missouri River had formerly flowed. In fact, several boats have been discovered over the years….but none approaching the magnitude of the Steamboat Arabia. Immediately after hitting the fateful underwater log, the ship sank quickly…..not just to the bottom surface of the Missouri River……but it continued to sink far down into the mud. So far down that the thick mud formed an air-tight seal around the ship….cutting it off from air, oxygen and anything else that might cause the content of the boat to deteriorate or rot away. Thus….there was almost 200 tons of perfectly preserved….undisturbed….cargo, resting in the original place where it was when the ship sank. I don’t know…..I suppose we could say that was definitely the highlight of the day…..not that the remainder of the day was a bust….not by any means. We ate a leisurely lunch at an outdoor restaurant on the Plaza. I really don’t recall what we ate. It was good, though…..and I am including a picture of it. What I do remember is that I wanted so badly to pick it up and eat it with my hands! That is why we were born with fingers! But, bowing to social convention, I struggled to eat it with a fork….like a proper gentleman. I often wonder what would happen if I would simply pick up the food….food that is clearly intended to be picked up…..and started eating it with my fingers. I bet it wouldn’t be very long before everybody in the restaurant would be following my example…..and probably be giving me a standing ovation. But, no….I followed the artificial rules of etiquette that some lonely old lady with nothing better to do dreamed up while sitting at home alone…..wishing she had man to devote her attention to!

I am almost sure than Fayez would have joined me. I have always eaten such things as pizza, fried chicken, french fries….etc….with my fingers. But, it was Fayez who taught me to eat rice with my fingers. And, that, is one of his valuable contributions to my life. I’ve got to admit that I am not very good at it yet. I tend to get more rice on my shirt and on the floor than I put into my mouth. But….the concept it good. Now I am anticipating additional lessons on how to eat other food with my fingers, too! And….Practice makes perfect. It probably wouldn’t be accurate to say that from this point on, the afternoon headed downhill. However, the visit to the Steamboat Arabia Museum was no doubt the high point of the day…..the feature length movie, if you know what I mean. After eating lunch, we drove to the University of Missouri at Kansas City (UMKC) medical school in hopes of at least a short tour of the School of Osteopathy….. But, apparently our luck had run out for the day. The School of Osteopathy was one giant work zone: No parking lot, no sidewalks, blocked entrances…..

I have been encouraging Fayez to consider osteopathy as one of his options when it is time to choose a medical school. As for me…..I wouldn’t hesitate for a minute to seek out an osteopathic physician as my primary care doctor. Osteopathic doctors have the exact, identical education and training as a medical doctor (MD) has. In fact, they have education and training beyond what medical doctors receive. It seems to me that osteopathic doctors incorporate a more realistic, holistic, all-inclusive approach to treating patients and their diseases.

I don’t know….. Maybe the name “osteopathic doctor” doesn’t have the romantic…and expensive….ring to it as the term “medical doctor”. But….all of you have been around long enough to know that all doctors…..any sort of doctor…..have the almost certain potential to become rich. If not….why else would they be doing it?

OK….enough of my editorial….or infomercial…. After realizing that visiting the School of Osteopathy was not possible, we headed for home….for the ranch. The day’s activities must have taken its toll on us. We had barely gotten on highway US 24 headed toward Tongonoxie, when Fayez admitted that he was so sleepy that he was barely awake…..and that he had to stop and rest before he fell asleep while he was driving. Oh, Wow! This was serious. It looked like all the wild excitement of the day had worn him out. Fayez is a good driver……but only when he is awake. I have never driven with him when he was asleep…..and I did not want to start that afternoon! So, at our earliest opportunity, we pulled in to the parking lot of a convenience store so both of us could take a short nap…..and hopefully, wake up refreshed.

Happily, we made it home. And, happily, we agreed to take a long nap before driving to Topeka. My ideal nap time is eighty minutes. That is the length of one music CD. I pop a CD into the CD player…..turn it on….and when it is finished….I usually wake up ready to attack the evening. Normally, I hear only part of the first song….and then I zonk out, only to wake to silence….or the music of Willie Nelson, who always sings the final song on each of my more than five or six hundred CD’s. I really don’t think Fayez sleeps for eighty minutes. But, he is young….and he doesn’t need as much sleep as I do.

We spent the evening in Terry’s Bar and Grill in Topeka…..by far our most favored bar in the city. Terry’s Bar is almost a prototype of the neighborhood bar. Most of the people who go there seem to know each other. The owner and staff of the bar quickly learned to recognize us….many times bring our drinks without having to ask what we want. I don’t think it is mandatory to buy food… But, I always feel somewhat obligated to buy at least an appetizer, if only because we often spend three or four hours just sitting and talking.

Terry’s Bar is a great place to sit and talk. There are several TV monitors, usually showing area athletic teams. There is music playing in the background…..real music, not today’s ear-splitting, unintelligible hip-hop or rap music. That is not the kind of customers Terry’s attracts. When the bar is full…..of course, the noise level can climb a few decibels. But, it is always a friendly noise…..the chatter and laughter of friends getting together for a party or just a neighborhood social hour.

After the people leave…..and it is always quite early…..I can well imagine that Fayez and I are the loudest, most obnoxious people in the bar….especially when we begin to argue….or “discuss” or “debate” some topic. No….no…..We are never loud or obnoxious…..and we never disturb other people. At least, not intentionally. At any rate, we have never been kicked out of the bar…..and we are always welcomed back….time after time after time. Surely, that is a good sign.

As it does in many cases, our day ended with a visit to Wal-Mart to stock up on whatever food we are planning for the next day. If I had my choice….and if it were possible and practical…..I would do ALL of my shopping in the early morning hours. At 1:00 A.M., Wal-Mart is a shopper’s paradise…..a shopper’s dream come true. We are able park our car within a few steps of the door. The aisles are not clogged with shoppers…. There are no noisy kids running up and down the aisles…..no fat-ass women standing in the center of the aisle talking…..no handicapped shoppers driving their motorized carts down the center of the aisle, daring us to try to pass them….no unprepared, perplexed men trying to find a product while talking to their wives (or mistresses) on a cell phone…..

Wal-Mart restocks its stores at night, so there will be some carts loaded with groceries, but you can maneuver your way around them. On the plus side…..there are LOTS of people working at restocking the shelves, and that means if you have a question, there are lots of employees around who cheerfully help you. Wait time at the checkout stand is minimal. There are not as many clerks working…..but neither are there as many customers. Checkout times are much faster…. Shopping in the early morning hours is as about as close as you can come to in-and-out shopping.

Thursday dawned bright and cheerful. Well, no…..that’s not right! Actually it didn’t “dawn” at all. I opened the door to a dark, overcast sky. The clouds look ominous….almost like they were daring us to carry through with our day’s schedule. And, our days schedule depended rather greatly on the weather. We were at the mercy…..and good graces….of Mother Nature. How was she feeling that day? Did she wake up in a good mood?

For a while, Mother Nature was like most women….she couldn’t make up her mind. But, as always, Fayez and I are not the quickest, most alert people in the morning, either. We constantly say that we are going to wake up at a certain time….be going to a certain place at a certain time…..or be doing a certain job at a certain time….. But, it rarely….no, it never…..happens. I would like to say this is all Fayez’s fault. And, maybe three years ago, I could.

When I first met Fayez back in December of 2012….the first time he spent time at my house……it was easier for me to ride a wild camel than it was to get Fayez out of bed in the morning! Any attempt to wake him up was greeted with an unintelligible grunt. It took begging, cajoling….and even threats to rouse him into a semi-awake state of mind. And, even then, I didn’t dare leave him alone. If I did….he would immediately lapse back into a state of sleep……and I would have to repeat the entire process over again. Finally, I adopted the strategy setting his wake-up time about 30 minutes early….in hopes that I would be successful and rouse him to a state of consciousness to get on with the day’s agenda.

But….times have changed….and so has Fayez. Probably the secret for this transformation is his cell phone. It seems to emit strange sounds all night long. I can even hear them a room away. It also has an alarm…..which, although not very loud…..seems to work. These days his desire to check the cell phone for messages is a huge motivating factor to wake up and become alert. Over the past few years, Fayez’s right arm has been conditioned to automatically reach for the cell phone the instant his eyes open in the morning. Sort of a like Pavlov and his dogs, I suppose.

At any rate, in recent times, Fayez has begun to allege that it is I who tends to obstruct progress in the morning.

I will be the first to admit that I am a true believer in organization…..that I am addicted to lists, schedules, time tables…..shackled to careful planning. I don’t know….maybe it all the indoctrination I received while serving in the army. The old “Hurry up and wait.” thing. Or perhaps I have seen….and suffered….the consequences of too many poorly planned schedules and agendas that I have made while working at the school.

Or….nowadays, I can probably just chalk it up to the fact that I am getting old. And….they say that the memory is the first thing to go….among other things. If I don’t plan in advance….and write it down….there is a very good chance that I will forget about it….and it will never happen.

But, I think a rather strange thing is happening. Tight organization….strict time schedules….are becoming less important to me…..but more important to Fayez. Maybe it is my imagination, but it seems to be he who is always prompting me to hurry up. It often is he who is waiting for me….pacing back and forth impatiently glancing at his newly acquired wrist watch….something he refused to believe he needed until recently.

When he gives me those, “Hurry up….. Why aren’t you ready yet?” looks, I am never sure whether to feel annoyed…..or proud. Sometimes I get these spooky feelings that maybe some of my organizational and efficiency urgency is rubbing off on him. And, even more freaky is the feeling that it may be like pouring water from one glass to another glass: As one glass gets fuller….the other glass gets emptier.

But…..getting back to the story: The day was cloudy….but it wasn’t pouring down rain. Our only objective for the morning was to build a bird feeder. By 10:00 we were sufficiently ready to start the job. The bird feeder we were going to construct was the same bird feeder that Oliver and I had constructed a couple months earlier during his visit. It seemed to be very popular with the birds, so I figured: “If it ain’t broke….don’t fix it.” Or….if you have the ball…..run with it.

In anticipation of this construction project, I had all the lumber pre-cut to save on time. Having the lumber cut to the correct lengths in advance certainly did save some time for Fayez and me as we prepared to build the bird feeder. But….in the long run, I am not at all

sure it saved time for me. I spent an hour at the home improvement store explaining to three high school age boys exactly what I needed to have…..and watching the three of them trying to figure out how to accomplish this seemingly impossible task. Finally, a guy who I assumed was an assistant manager came along to help them…..after I explained what I wanted for the tenth time. Actually, he didn’t know much more than the high school kids knew….but they finally figured out the magic of using the big saw…..and cut the wood I needed. If I could have video-taped the entire incident, it would have made a great You Tube video.

With all the components pre-cut to the correct size, the bird feeder rapidly took shape. Fayez was in charge of the electric drill….and I held each piece in place while it screwed the little bolts into place.

For an amateur with no experience in screwing, I have to say that Fayez did a very good job. Things went as scheduled until we finally came to the last steps. And…..then I found that I had forgotten one step…..I had simply forgotten about one of the most important parts. I already told you that my planning and organizational skills are deteriorating….right?

I had neglected to include the 1×2’s that go on the outside of the feeder and keep the seed inside…..and keep the seed from falling out. But, necessity is the Mother of Invention, as they say. Improvise….Adapt…..Overcome.

I had some spare lumber…..and now it was time to improvise. We got the job done. The end product didn’t look as nice or as professional as the bird feeder that Oliver and I built. But, as I am fond of saying, “The birds don’t care what the feeder looks like….only about the food.”

Fayez got to experience something new for him….which is always

good. He seemed to enjoy it. I don’t think he fully appreciated how ugly the bird feeder turned out. But….the good news: it can be repaired. The next time he comes to my house, we will make some modifications…..and hopefully improve its appearance….and make it look like it was not put together as a kindergarten project…..or that it was constructed in an institution for mentally challenged people.

It was my fervent hope that painting it would make is look better. That adding some color would disguise some of its defects. But, Alas! This did not happen. It will have to undergo some major surgery.

And, who is there better to do this….except for an aspiring doctor who needs some practice in this area……under the direction of a master teacher, of course.

We painted the bird feeder yellow and black…..the colors of Wichita State University, the university that Fayez attends. And, to emphasize the fact that the yellow and black were intended as the WSU colors…..and not the Valley Falls colors…..we painted “WSU” on the roof…..on both sides. Certainly….no offense to Valley Falls. But we wanted to make sure the true intent of the choice of colors was clear.

After we finished building the bird feeder…..admiring it…..taking pictures of it…… It was time to get ready to drive into town to get haircuts. Every time Fayez comes to visit, I make an appointment so he can get his haircut at the same time I do. Of course, I have been going to Laurie Glassel for at least twenty-five years. And, for good reason: She does a super job of cutting hair.

Not only has she cut my hair down through the ages, but she has also cut the hair of all my foreign exchange students. Most of them look forward to going to her when they come back for a visit. Without exception, all of my former students say she is by far the best barber they have ever had…..both before and after they spent the year living in the USA.

And, it took Fayez only one visit to come to the same conclusion. When he leaves her shop, his thick black hair has never looked so good. I have never cut anybody’s hair, but I can imagine that cutting and styling hair as thick as Fayez’s hair takes more than just a little talent. She is very meticulous….and she cuts and styles hair to please the customer…..and not herself.

At any rate, we both walked out with fresh haircuts…..and headed back home to the Ranch. Almost immediately we began to prepare for our late afternoon meal….our only real meal of the day. Fayez is always in charge of preparing the food. If he weren’t….we would live on a steady diet of pizza, frozen dinners and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Fortunately, however, Fayez likes to cook….and even more fortunately….he is good at it. He is capable to conjuring up some delicious Saudi Arabian food….using his mysterious, exotic Middle East spices that the tongues of the Western world are not capable to pronouncing.

Over the years, I have learned to simply leave him alone while he is preparing his recipes. There is nothing I can do to help the situation…..and my offers of assistance only serve to slow the process….and possibly make it more complicated….for both Fayez and me.

One thing I have observed, as time has passed…..is that Fayez uses fewer and fewer dishes as he creates his culinary masterpieces. I remember….back in the old days….that there would be mountains of dirty dishes to deal with as a by-product of his tasty feasts. And, I suppose, you have already recognized who becomes the dish washer. You know…. “I will do the cooking…..and you do the dishes!?” My attitude was that there is always a price to pay for perfection…..you have to take the bad with the good….or “Thank Heavens for dirty dishes; They have a tale to tell; While other folks go hungry; We’re eating very well.”….

But, I am starting to become convinced that Fayez has already begun to adopt my aversion to doing dishes. Or at least, he has started looking at the “big picture”…..Why spend an hour washing and drying dishes when you can simply prepare everything in one or two pans? No…..Fayez is not becoming lazy. In fact, he is starting to use his considerable intellectual power….and do things the most efficient way. Fayez is fond of saying, “Work smarter…..not harder.”

And, I am proud enough….and egotistical enough….to suspect that this is another important life lesson that he has learned from the Master.

OK. Putting all that aside…. It was time to fix supper. On this particular night, however, we were not having Saudi Arabian food. We were having good old American food. And, what could be more American than chili?

Normally when we prepare an American food….and I only know how to fix a few of them…..I take over and ‘Just Do It’. But today, Fayez was again in charge of preparing the meal…..under the constant and critical eye of the resident Master Chili King. (That would be ME!)

Actually, I really do not have a recipe for preparing chili. I know what ingredients I will use: hamburger, onions, garlic, maybe some green peppers, diced tomatoes, tomato sauce, chili beans, chili spices…..anything else that seems like it may be right at the moment. After caramelizing the onions, garlic and green peppers…..and after thoroughly browning and dicing the hamburger…..then it is pretty much free-style the rest of the way. Just keep adding the ingredients…adding the spices…..tasting it….adjusting the spices….. Bring it all to a boil….let it simmer……

Fayez is slowly learning the secret. And the beauty of making chili is that we only have to get two pans dirty in the process: the skillet with the hamburger…..and the big pan that is used to cook it. The chili almost always turns out good….sometimes better than the last time. Even when Fayez makes it!

I have never asked him……and he has never volunteered……to explain the secrets of preparing the Saudi Arabian food. And, it is no doubt best this way. I don’t have the spices that are necessary….nor do I have the desire or patience to bother with it. It tastes so much better when Fayez makes it…..and I am willing to wait for it.

We washed the one skillet and the one pan we used to cook the chili…..and the bowls we ate out of, of course…..put them away. And, supper was over for another day.

Next came my mandatory rejuvenating, energizing nap…..accompanied by 80 minute of choice, personally selected music….. That was closely followed by another night of merriment at Terry’s Bar and Grill……and then home to my bed that I am sure was calling out my name…..

And, Thus ended the second day of Adventures with Fayez.

It’s Friday. And today, I am not saying “TGIF’. It is the last full day of Fayez’s visit….and it has come too quickly. Too quickly especially since he had originally planned to stay for a week…..only to be subsequently scaled back to three days. But, as usual, we have things planned….and as usual, the day gets off to a slow start.

A late breakfast will satisfy our hunger until our main meal later in the afternoon. And, as usual, breakfast consisted mainly of a bowl of raisin bran….and a cup of coffee, for me. Fayez has stopped drinking coffee….once one of his favorite morning drinks. If you really want to know why, you will have to ask him yourself. He has told me multiple times…..but somehow, the reasons still elude me. The coffee that he used to like so much is still here….waiting for him…..if his “coffee” pendulum ever swings back the other direction.

It is already 10:00….but there are only four events on our calendar today. First of all, Fayez will go to the mosque in Topeka. The service starts at 1:30, so we scurry around in order to leave our house by 12:30. Of course, we don’t meet that goal…..but we are not in any danger. We will make it to Topeka in plenty of time. Anything over one or two minutes seem to be “plenty of time” for us.

While Fayez is attending the mosque, I will go my weekly shopping….plus pick up any last-minute items we will need for later on in the day. The scheduling worked out pretty well. The car was getting low on gasoline, and by the time I had filled up the car at a service station on California Street….almost across the street from Wal-Mart…..and by the time I had driven back around the block in order to cross California at a traffic light….the scheduling seemed to work out perfecting. There was no point sitting and waiting to cross a busy street like California, when it was faster and easier to drive around a block to a corner with a traffic light. I do have insurance on my car….but I didn’t particularly want to use it that afternoon. However, I am sure that if Fayez had been driving, he would have made a dare devil crossing…..and would probably have made it safely. Many years ago, I would have chosen to do this, too. But….not now. I know I have lived a long, fruitful life…..but…..

After doing the shopping, I drove back to the mosque. The timing was almost pefect. Within just a few minutes, Fayez appeared….and we started on our journey back to the ranch.

After we arrived back home, it was time to prepare for the second event on our agenda: we had invited our friend Sam to come up and eat with us at 3:30. The division of labor had already been decided. Fayez was in charge of preparing the meal. I was in charge of starting the fire in the fire ring….and doing all the other flunky things like carrying everything we needed out to the picnic table: the paper plates, the plastic forks and knives, the paper towels….everything we would need for our meal. All the high-tech stuff.

And the meal! Wow….Fayez was in high gear with this one. I have learned to just leave the cooking to him. Sort a “Don’t ask; don’t tell” situation. He brought the meat with him from Wichita….where I suppose he got it at an Arab market. One of the kinds of meat looked fairly conventional….probably lamb. The other meat was a kind of “mystery meat” to me. Again…. “Don’t ask; don’t tell”. We can be pretty sure that is wasn’t pork…..and I was hoping that it wasn’t camel meat! It looked like what I imagine a Saudi Arabian hotdog to look like. Whatever kind of meat it was, I was confident that Fayez would transform it into a culinary delight.

Along with the meat, there were some other more conventional foods: rice, potatoes, tomatoes, green pepper…and maybe some other vegetables…..and rice. The ubiquitous rice. This may sound conventional or ordinary…..but when Fayez combines it with his exotic Middle East spice, it tastes delicious…..anything except ordinary.

No sooner than I had gotten the charcoal lighted….my most technical task of the afternoon…..than our friend Sam pulled into the driveway. I left Fayez to be the official greeter….and I hurried to my bedroom to quickly slip on my newly acquired Saudi Arabian gown. When I walked into the front room wearing the garment, I am not really sure what I was expecting. Maybe a gasp of surprise? Or some insincere….but well-intentioned…compliments? Some uncontrolled

laughter? Actually, Sam’s response was more of a non-response: just a look of bemused uncertainty or patronization. Having spent enough time making myself look like a dork……I quickly removed the flowing garment……and the entire incident was quickly forgotten. In other words: It did not produce the reaction I had expected.

Dinner was served on the patio with a background setting of whispering green trees, a green carpet of freshly mowed grass, the easy pre-summer breeze……and hundreds of thousands of cicadas! This year…..2015…..is the year of the Seventeen Year Cicada. They appear en-mass only once every seventeen years……and each of them must have received his invitation. And….for sure…..each of them accepted the invitation. I don’t know who the Chief Cicada was for my yard……but I can assure you he did his job very well….and very efficiently.

Not only that Friday afternoon….but for the next two or three weeks…..the cicadas hung around. As we sat and ate our lunch, we spent much of our time flicking cicadas off our arms…off our head….off our back….off our legs……off our face…… They were truly annoying. They are stupid, bumbling insects. Where ever they land, they tend to stay there until they are forcefully dislodged.

The cicadas literally blanketed all the tree limbs…..all the tree trunks…..all the fence posts….. They covered almost anything that had a solid surface. They are disgusting, to say the least. And….apparently stupid. Leave the door open for a minute, and a halfway intelligent bug or insect will take the opportunity to fly inside……either attracted by the light or the warmth…..or just because they want to perturb the owner of the house. But….the cicadas? Never once during the four or five weeks they hung around did one enter my house. And, the noise! The indescribable discordant sound of thousands of tiny buzz saws…..or of a thousand little kids all playing scratchy sounds on a violin. However one wants to describe the noise, it is loud….and it is never-ending.

However, even with the bothersome presence of the cicadas, the meal was an unqualified success. Although we were sitting around a picnic table on our patio, with the savory, spicy Saudi Arabian food, we could just as easily been sitting beside an oasis in the middle of a vast desert while our camels feasted on the green grass and drank the pure blue water. All this….minus the cicadas, of course.

The food was yummy…..and it was satisfying….. When the meal was over, the clean-up began. The clean-up consisted mainly of stuffing paper plates and plastic eating utensils and plastic water bottles into a plastic trash bag. And….lucky me! There was plenty of food left over….so I could continue the feast for at least another two or three days.

The meal ended…..Sam got back into his pickup and headed for Topeka….. And, we prepared to take our daily siesta. After eighty minutes of music that I would never hear, we were on our way to Topeka….and the YMCA. Fayez wanted to spend some time working out. I made a couple attempts to ride the stationary bicycle…..and I did persevere for about 30 minutes. For me, it was a lost cause. I went back to the car to continue my nap…..leaving Fayez to complete his workout routine. In the end, however, it worked out well. Fayez emerged from the building energized, refreshed; and I woke up from my nap also energized and refreshed!

Our next….and final…..destination for the evening was Terry’s Bar and Grill….where I enjoyed my traditional pitcher of Bud Lite…..and Fayez favored his two glasses of Diet Pepsi. Our favorite way to end a splendid day.

As always, Fayez had something important to do in Wichita the next morning. He had to leave the house by 6:00. We both set our alarms so he wouldn’t be late for his important meeting. I set my alarm for 5:15….and Fayez set his alarm for 5:30. When I awoke the next morning…..Saturday morning…..it was already 6:10. My alarm had not gone off. And, apparently Fayez’s alarm didn’t work, either. He was still sound asleep. He jumped out of bed….threw his belongings into his suitcase….. Our “Good-byes’ were quick and to the point……as Fayez jumped into his car, spun out of the driveway…..and headed off into the sunrise….on his way back to Wichita.

As a bit of a sequel…..in the mad rush to leave the house, Fayez forget to take his favorite cooking pan…..plus his array of spices. I mailed them to him the following Monday…..and the length of time it took for him to receive them equaled about three times the length of time that he spent at my house. But….the is another story for another time!