We're off to Spain and Morocco this Thursday on a sort of Islamic-themed tour. This has involved getting a visa for Noi for the Moroccan leg of the journey, which has entailed her being without her passport for quite some time. Since she's been intending to go to Melaka to see Mak before we set off this has been a tad inconvenient, but she got it back this afternoon and is intending to drive up north on the morrow. I will sit lingering here, on account of getting papers marked for IB, so we'll be parted for the weekend - one of the irritants of our frequently (seemingly increasingly) mobile way of life.
I must say, though, the inconvenience has been massively ameliorated by an oxtail soup to die for cooked in honour of the occasion this evening, and a plenitude of freshly made curry puffs to get me through a lonely Saturday and Sunday. Miss Gloria Gaynor was right all along: yes, I will survive.
And while we're on the subject of togetherness, I enjoyed an excellent Friday sermon at Prayers today, concerning Muslim marriage. Full of good sense, I think some of its prescriptions would surprise those who appear determined to see Islam as innately oppressive to women. But there's no point in outlining these: those who don't want to know simply don't want to know.
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