Good morning, world. I am Kat, and I’ll let you in on a little secret. J.M. Tibbott thinks she created me. Big fib. Loads of authors believe they create the characters in their books. I am convinced this is also a load of bull. I think we are already fully formed somewhere deep inside the writers’ psyches. We’re just waiting for the opportunity to spring forth and show ourselves to the world.

Now that you know this about me, I hope you can relax and enjoy this blog, without having to suspend disbelief in me and the rest of the folks in The Pridden Saga.

Let me give you a bit of my background.

My last name is Karim, which was my father’s name and is Arabian, although he was Omani by birth. It was a good name, as it means ‘noble’. I’m convinced it suited him, big time. I adored him, because he always spoke to me as a person, and taught me amazing things about the world when I was young.

Mom was a Scot, and I know her maiden name was Craig, which was also appropriate, since it means ‘rock’. She was definitely the rock in our household.

We travelled to so many different places, many of which I have no memory. The reason for our travel is that my father was part of the Omani diplomatic corps. I am led to believe he was highly respected in diplomatic circles. I figured out he was the sort of fixer who travelled from embassy to embassy ironing out problems, Because of that, we never spent much time in any one location. Mom much preferred traveling outside Oman, because, particularly as the wife of a diplomat, in Oman she had to wear the hijab. It was always required in Oman, and often at some very posh affairs in other parts of the world. As a fiery Scot, she hated the hijab, but she loved my father, and I guess she accepted this as part of his job.

I’m telling you this, because I often use phrases from these countries in my speech, and you may be confused by the words I use, and wonder if I was born in the middle of an ocean somewhere. I wasn’t. I was born in a perfectly respectable hospital in Canada, ‘cause father was fixing something at the embassy at the time. As a result of being exposed to so many different countries, I’ve been told I have a mid-Atlantic accent. Although we were never in one place long enough for me to learn the language of each country, I do know a few words of most of the languages where my father was stationed.

My parents died shortly after I turned thirteen, so most of this information I have learned since, from both research and from my brother, who lives in Australia. By the way, Australia has some of the best names for things, and I love their accents.

Now you know a little about me, hopefully we can have fun together as I write and publish this blog on a regular basis. What I would like to do, is travel through the books and give you my thoughts about the timing of things that happened in my journey.

Skal!  That’s the one word I picked up in Denmark. I think it had something to do with drinking.