13 years

Yesterday (today if you are on US time) Mehran and I celebrated our 13 wedding anniversary. Perhaps celebrated is the wrong word. We acknowledged the day by first counting (twice) how many years we have been married. You know it has been awhile when you are not actually sure and you have to double check to make sure that you have, in fact, counted correctly. We started the day by waking up at the crack of dawn (OK, maybe it was more like 8:30, but due to the late night and being frequently woken up by one small boy it certainly felt much earlier) by Mehran's dad and brother enthusiastically pounding on the back door. They had come to harvest the rest of the plums and apricots from our fruit trees and were attempting to outsmart the birds by getting started early and working away in the intense heat. The birds never showed. Weather that was because we were there or because they had better sense than to be out in the sun on such a hot day remains unclear. I am tempted to believe that they are far smarter than we give them credit for. Regardless the plums were picked by a rumpled, bleary eyed crew who, despite the heat and the fact that we were climbing trees in our pyjamas, managed to fill 4 large boxes of fruit (which Mehran's dad gleefully confiscated. They love making jam. Lots of jam. And dried Persian lavashak, but mostly jam.) 2 large pots and 2 medium sized colanders (which I commandeered. These will be eaten fresh or chopped and frozen for making fruit smoothies. And that is precisely what I spent the next four hours, give or take, doing. Washing. Chopping. Freezing).

I did take a short break to comfort a bruised and unhappy Bayan who got hold of Anisa's cup of water and promptly poured it across the floor. The tiled floor which, as you can imagine, gets slippery when wet. He had a spectacular wipe out as he scurried (as only toddlers do) at top speed towards the living room. The resulting "thud" and resounding cries brought Mehran and I both dashing from various parts of the house. Mehran, being closer, got there first. I was just in time to see Mehran's sprint turn into a wild, cartoon-like, running on the spot (as he skidded on the water), before both legs (one after the other) slipped out from under him and he landed on his bottom at such speed that he was propelled across the room into a decidedly wet and unhappy Bayan who was then knocked down. Again. Thankfully, aside from some minor bruising, no one was seriously hurt.

While I was busy freezing fruit, tending bruises and comforting bruised egos, the girls were busy in the front room creating a make-shift rocket ship from an empty vacuum cleaner box, recycled aluminium foil, an assortment of paper scraps and sticky tape. Here they are on their way to some far flung, distant galaxy, on a mission to help aliens collect space rocks. The buttons on the front were Ruhi's idea. Although Anisa insisted on adding her own special knob for "blast-offing."

Farzin and Elham came by for lunch and we spent the rest of the day at home, trying to avoid the heat. We ordered pizza for dinner and Mehran and I watched "Wild Hogs" (Mehran's choice. Not my style, but good for a laugh) after the kids went to bed. Maybe we'll all go to bed early tonight... Talk about life in the fast lane.