Live wire

I wore these wire bangles for almost two years. I love them. I never took them off. Every day I washed off the black colour on my arm without a thought. After a few hours of drumming every fortnight I had a very dark grey/purple sheen on my forearm.

Ten days ago I started getting a "shot" of metal-taste saliva that was so strong I had to suck sweets often during the day. After 5 days I suddenly woke up with the idea to take the bangles off. Firstly I struggled because they had become so much part of my identity. Ego reared it's head and I was surprised at my psycological resistance and felt a physical pang of regret as I placed them on my shelf.

The next morning I woke up with a "mother" of a headache. I'm not a headache person, but have had migraine and head cold and tension headaches. This wasn't any of those. This was a typical detox headache which made me want to reach for my bangles!

The headache lasted for three days in which time I looked up "metal poisoning" and was surprised that without being melodramatic, some symptoms made sense. The fog in my mind, the taste in my mouth and the feeling of "dragging" myself through each day, longing to hit my pillow.

Time will tell.

Dread-Mill

If someone had to ask me if I think I'm a chopper pilot, I'd say "no pal, but can YOU drive a treadmill?"

I spin, swim and frequent the gym often but the treadmill....
Ok so it calculates the calories you use depending on speed and incline. The treadmill can show you five different channels of tv while your walking and tune you in to your favourite radio station. It monitors your heartbeat and can speed up slow down and throw you off if you forget to pedal - I mean walk.
I arrive with a bottle of water and my earphones - to plug into my favourite tv show. The choices are quite fun. Rugby, soccer, news and cricket. I don't normally watch soccer but seeing that the biggest game of the year Manchester United against Barcelona was on........well what can a girl do.
So I'm ready to "roll" and the screen reads "touch me"! Goodness, ok - so I touch away and when nothing happens I give the screen a sharp tap. I left a note to the manufacturer....."sharp tap me?" would that work?
I'm cool, I smile, I look around me at all the walking, smiling, obviously very clever running masses.

I have entered weight, age, address, time, distance but this machine just won't work for me and my time is running out. I notice a "quick start" button and tap sharply!

It's moving.....and we're off............VERY slowly I might add, oh? ok I see the -big plus- and give a few very experienced sharp taps until.....I'm going too fast and have to hang onto the handles which automatically monitor my heartbeat! I want to laugh but have to be cool as I frantically sharply tap repeatedly the -big minus- and after a few tries I slow down to an acceptable pace.

I then strike the "I'm totally at home" on the big walking machine stagger and I whip out my blackberry and send an sms. I have arrived!

After about 30 minutes I check my calorie count hoping that I can lay to rest the packet of Provita crunchie-vites-with-cranberries I flattened for tea........and realise that all I can claim are two tiny biccy's!

I know now that this brilliant machine is intuative because as I hit the big red "Emergency Stop" and think "to hell with that!", it nearly catapults me into the pool!

Dare to Date

So here I am happily single and in a calm pond of peace and contentment.
Of course the universe has heard my call and is planning my love life accordingly.
A friend pops in for a good old natter and a cuppa.


The lively chatter slows to a deliberate silence and she asks, "so...?" "you still not seeing anyone?"

She knows I'm not, so I wonder what's up and look at her, cocking an eyebrow as a reply.

"Have you ever considered looking on a dating site?", she enquires tentatively.

Definitely not, out of the question, tacky, cheap, not me."NO", I say smiling superciliously.

"Well you should think about it?", she replies and I, "biscuit?"

"There's a very good site on the internet that appears to have a huge database."

Well I just ignore this and change the subject............P-lease!

"It's so easy", she says walking inside towards the computer, "just look at how many interesting men there are in Pretoria."

Yes I know - thinking of Aunty Patty who told my mother, "Mandy will NEVER find a man in Pretoria!" "She MUST go to the Italian club in Johannesburg!"

Well I've thought about that quite a bit actually. I see myself entering the hallowed doors of the "Italian Club" explaining that no, I'm not Italian, and yes, I know that Italians are short and I'm 5ft9, but Aunty Patty said.....

"Come and have a look at some of these nice looking men", she's keen and connected and settled in front of my screen. "You don't use your own name you know."

Oh so that makes the difference! - I can go on under a pseudonym.......how about "Marvelous Me", "Tall and Tender", or even better "Big 'n Beautiful!"

I can't.

"But just come and look, this one seems cute," she insists.

I take a sidelong glance, she suggests a name for me and I grudgingly chose three men out of the first page or two that I think are ok, and one in particular that looks.......like me.

I tempt her away from my screen with more sweet delights.
We say our goodbyes at the gate and I wave calmly.

As soon as her car rounds the corner I dash into my house, jumping over the cat I skid onto my seat and find the site!

I looked though 50 pages, that same night, each with 20 faces which would total 1000 men, all from Gauteng!

I couldn’t stop.

Fascinating.

You pick your "favorites" and then realize that they get a notification....eeek

They see you online and become "fans" (if they're tall enough) and send you a message.

My heart was thumping at the first message and then I realized that you can't chat.....until you pay!

Ok so I won't say I'm hooked, let’s say curious.
Don't say it!
Ok, very curious and maybe a little hooked.
Hooked. I said it!

I make a conscious decision to take only one month’s subscription and pay.

"Billy the Biker" was apparently my 100% match - scratch.
"Romantic Rider" ? scratch.
"Thumper" ? Block, block, block, I won't, I can't do helmet hair!
"Theo's Threesome" ? OK, get me outta here!
"Casual Kent", said that he would be prepared to INVEST in a woman if bla bla bla....delete, delete, delete.
"Naughty Nigel", said that all women wanted a bad boy.........really? What Nonsense!
When "Sizzling Swinger" became a fan I blocked him too and decided to take responsibility and the reins of this seemingly galloping horse.

I was happily off the site within two very intense weeks.

and?

well, I have to say....

in spite of my trepidation...

yes,

I'm grateful to my insistent friend.


ps: inbox me for the address :-)

now Here's the Rub

I want to say that this is something all women should have in their boot.
I would be wrong!
I think this is something every driver needs in their boot..............and no, not your hobnails daaaling!
I had no idea how much joy a little tin of rubbing compound, the price of a movie ticket, could bring.
A good deal of elbow grease is needed so you're assured an intense deltoid workout.
A friend and I were looking at the deep scratches made by a badly placed potato bush and we were dubious as to whether this would do the trick.
I'm tempted to leave the bush in place just to have the pleasure of revitalising my paint job, but will deal with the bush a tad later - and will post a pic.

The Agony and the Ecstacy

Nan Hua Buddhist Temple Bronkhorstspruit - finding peace

I was in the Faerie Glen postoffice this afternoon. A young man stood in front of me clutching a thick manila envelope .
My eyes drifted to his package which read "Huisgenoot Lietjie Kompetiesie" in bold black letters.
The postoffice is indeed a place of dreaded bills, stressful registered letters, parcel deliveries, love letters from afar and in this case great expectations.
The young man approached the counter. "Normal mail please"....and after a few seconds, "this letter will arrive by Friday?" looking expectantly at the bored looking attendant who nodded her head.
Today is Tuesday my friend, I think, there is no way that letter will get to it's competition destination by Friday!
"I've been told not to send this registered, but is there any other way of getting it there faster?", he asks the still bored looking attendant who replies "well, how would YOU like to send it?" "Speed services?"
"How much will that be?", he asks looking worried. "R61 Rand." comes the short reply and he cringes.
I quickly turn to him and suggest,"try fastmail, it takes 2-3 working days and is much cheaper than speed services".
"Ok", he nods looking at me uncertainly.
I see his dream of becoming the new huisgenoot song writer winner going up in the smoke of some disinterested postal workers tea-time cigarette.
"How do you want to send this letter!", asks the now insolent attendant.
I can't help myself and move over to the counter..........."Could you please give this young man his options!, he clearly doesn't know how to send the letter!"

She turns her eyes up to him and says "try fastmail, it takes 2-3 working days and is much cheaper than speed services".

That's not a camera Madame, that's a light...

I registered with a modelling agency when I moved to Pretoria three years ago.
This would be a good way to supplement my income and it looks like fun, yes? Let me put it this way - it"s different...

The Casting:
A casting notification is e-mailed to you a day in advance.
The very first casting you get you'll probably phone everyone you know telling them how you're going to be on tv.
You arrive well coiffed and buffed, so excited and highly strung that all of the 30-100 faces in the room look at you knowing that you're definately on SOMETHING.
You fill out an artiste's form and get a corresponding label, it's big and sticky, pasted onto your chest - number 35.
You wait, the first time with strained eyes watching as the door opens and shuts on 34 hopeful people. One looks around to assess the "competition" and thinks that you're home free, cause they'll never consider this overweight scruffy lady sitting right next to you with the beige linen. Your number is called and in your minds eye you may see some flashing lights and hear Oscar's theme tune in your head. When you enter, all you see is a bent head and a voice that looks up with dead eyes and says "look at the camera please - name, age and agency?" - you answer. "Right profile please" - you turn at face the door. "Left profile please" - you turn and face the wall.
"Right! your husband is coming home for supper and you have to greet him happily at the door. Start on this x", she says pointing to a taped x on the floor. "There's the door", she says pointing to the window. "Right......aaand ACTION!", she says from behind the camera. She looks up with a bland look on her face "again", and puts the face away "aaaand ACTION!" You wait, she signs, looks up and says "thanx your done, NEXT."
At this point you have no clue of what the procedure is. The secretary explains, "If you're in we'll call your agent". It's truly the strangest feeling. It's not about how well you're turned out, it's not about how keen you are and when you see the ad on tv with the scruffy overweight lady in the beige linen walking a dog for discovery health, you realise that no, you didn't get the job"
When I go for castings now, I check the brief, I go as I am, I take a book and I relax and watch the newbies come in and I wonder what they're on, cause they have to be on SOMETHING.

The Shoot:
To be there at 5am you have to have a 3.30am wake-up call.
You arrive, drink copious amounts of coffee.
Sit for make-up and wait.
After a few hours they call your part.
Then they ask your name and give you the brief.
You smile and walk and tickle the (your) child, shopping for fruit over a 4meter distance.
You reverse the trolley.
You do this again.
You reverse and repeat about five times.
Then the extras come in and we repeat the process.
When your lip is quiverring from smiling, and only then......."Right rehearsal done, lets roll!"
"ACTION!"................rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr "CUT!"
Gladys you looked at the camera!
"ACTION!.................rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr "CUT!"
Mandy don't dip your head, we want to see you!
"ACTION!.................rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr "CUT!"
Sammy darling smile and shinings eyes!
"ACTION!.................rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr "CUT!"
A little slower everyone!
"ACTION!.................rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr "CUT!"
That was faaaar too slow
"ACTION!.................rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr "CUT!"

Darling to the left, to the LEFT!
"ACTION!.................rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr "CUT!"
SMILE people!
"ACTION!.................rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr "CUT!"

"OK guys lets break for lunch and we'll check the footage".
Sighs of relief all around.
"Please wear a cover over your clothes!"
The lunch is welcome and healthy and as I'm reaching for my favourite salad, Jacquie from wardrobe leans over grabs the bowl announcing "NO BEETROOT FOR THE CAST PLEASE!"

Zoo-chology

It started with my friend Harduss' art exhibition to highlight the plight of the Rhino. I got to the zoo quite late and asked at the gate if I could quickly still pop in to see the exhibition. They said yes, but that because it was so close to closing, I should use the -Zoo Officials Only- gate. I drove down to the gate and explained to the zoo official where I was going and he opened the boom and directed me to the restaurant. There were no people at the zoo and I drove right up to the entrance and popped in to see the exhibition unhindered.....

Yesterday was the last day of Johanns exhibition and I was available to go around lunchtime.
I didn't  think twice, drove straight to the -Zoo Officials Only- gate and told them that I needed to get to the exhibition area....."No problem Madame, we'll drive ahead".
With the Zoo Official on the golf cart escourting me through throngs of Sunday animal lovers, I felt like the princesss on the float in the middle of Johannesburg. Everyone turned to stare, as we moved through the waves of people parting, might I add like the red sea, and a lot of not so happy Israelites.
I started to laugh and blush at the audacity of it all as we passed the flamingos and the elephants and drove up to the exhibition hall with people staring after us.
As we turned the corner Miekie, Johann and their friend looked up from there spot on the picnic blanket. Their faces turned from relaxed, to surprized, to w..t..f........?
The official indicated for me to park under the roof right in front of the foyer doors and nodded his head in greeting as he sped away on his zoomobile. I gave him a royal wave.

My friends just shook there incredulous faces and looked at me for the explanation and quite honestly I can't give them one. We just laughed and laughed and laughed at the craziness of it all!

My only suggestion is that I may have been the queen of Sheba in a previous life?

It's never too late to try

When a friend told me about the Bronkhorstspruit Blues festival on the farm Witfontein, I decided to try my hand at a "deurnag jol". I love live music in a comfortable club and have always shied away from the camping scene of the true rockers who frequent weekend festivals.

I took note over the years as I listened to my kids chatting about the pros and cons of sleeping arrangements and decided to go with my daughters suggestion that one's car is the safest, warmest place to sleep.

I'm not sure if sleeping in your car can still be classed as camping but I did park next to a tent and I certainly feel as if I have been camping.
I think the lack of customery ablusions and sleep, and the fact that my flattened seats have a two inch ridge at the break have made for an experience never to be forgotten. I'm thinking of drafting a letter to Honda suggesting a minor change in the design for frequent festival fans.

After the aches and pains have subsided and the bruises are gone, I will only remember the fun and write it up in my book of  "Most-best Memories to Mull over!"

I will think back of the crowd jiving and bopping to Karen Zoid.

I will hear Valient Swart's deep rich voice, soothing in my mind.

I will marvel at the talent of Albert Frost and his amazing guitars.

I will look back and say "yes! remember that amazing weekend!"

Stompies

So why is it that my neighbours insist on using my garden as an ashtray?

When I lived in the bottom flat of a stack and found a few fresh stompies on my lawn, I just threw them up onto the upstairs balcony.
Although I threw stompies onto the balcony every second day, in the two years I stayed there they never said a word and neither did I.
The arrangement seemed to work well for both parties.

In my new complex I have a garden on my outer wall. The neighbours stand outside chatting with their guests and I watch as they casually thumb-flick the filter onto the wall and watch with disinterest as it plops into the flowerbed.

Then along comes a proud young man with a staffy, stops, watches lovingly as his dog shits in my garden and walks off without......never mind a backward glance.....HEY!! where's your pooper scooper PAL!
I'm starting to grind my teeth while smiling "hello" at the nighbours every morning.
They sweetly remark, "we were saying the other day that you keep very funny hours?" with suggestively lifting eyebrows, which of course feeds my motivation to "get even".
What to do, What to do?
The neighbours are young new owners and very proud of their new garden at their front entrance.
Staffy-boy walks past my house every day - and what do you think, the dog remembers "Ahh this is my toilet!....Mandyloo".

I don't want to start little quibles about mundane grievances in my small complex but cummon...I'm an ex-smoker and I know the feeling when you're that desperate that you'll dig in the bin for a stompie just long and dry enough for three drags, but you still use an ashtray.

I wait.
Until they have left for work.

With pursed lips and a determined look, I pick up every last stompie and throw them into their perfect front garden.

I quickly head back into mine and when I've taken a few deep breaths, inhaling yet more courage, I head back to the flowerbed with my little spade.

I flick the poops gently onto the paving just in the path of the dogwalkers.

Feeling very happy with myself and head off to work.

Next morning I take a "wide" birth to my car and wave a happy "hello" to my neighbours bowed heads as they peer intently into their not so perfect garden.

Birds, Bees, Bats and one Bullfrog

Ok, I don't know that it IS a bullfrog, but hey! it rhymes.

So I was doing my spiritual thing in my garden late at night under the moon. Smiling and humming and generally feeling very mellow and full of love for humanity, I WAS swaying a bit....
I thought that I had called the birds right out of their nests when they were flying around my head - talk about St. Francis of assissi!
When I had a closer look I realised that the little creatures were sneaking in under my eaves!
It took a few seconds for me to realise what they were and at first I was honoured that they had "chosen" ME!

Ok, ok, they chose my roof,

and probably only because it's suitably dark.

I thought awhile and wasn't sure that it would be fashionable to be enamoured by the little furry creatures.
I reverted to fearful, urban, "I have a big problem" mode.
After reactions from all and sundry I decided to look into the scary chance of dying from infected guano.
I don't have a pellot gun so no I won't be taking pot shots as was one suggestion.
I would hate to think of the state of my tennis racquet after yet another dramatic solution was described.
I also made sure that I wouldn't have to shave my head after being be-tangled by a blind bat.
Blind bats and hair obsession are both old wives tales.
I can say these things with confidence -
I am now a proud member of the Gauteng's northen bat interest group.
GnorBIG

I was up a ladder in a jiffy, half of my body reaching into my ceiling.
I did find them nestling snuggly in my rafters and have identified them, with help from batman himself as Scotophillus Dingani - a yellow african bat that eats up to 1000 insects per night. If I'm hosting six then thats 6000 insects per night.
I have monitored them on many occasion and can't see their apparently velvety green upside coat or the yellow fluffy underside, but I do visualise it and my heart fills with awe at these amazing creatures that are so misunderstood.

I may just look into taking my daughters advice as she exclaimed "awesome! - tame them mom!"

NewLife - Energy Seminar

Healing Seminar 7 November 2010




I fly down from the high cliff and reach my wings out wide. I have flown away, I am free!

I summersault in the air and shout with joy and release. Freedom is mine Newlife begins.....as I swoop back to the edge of the cliff.....

...I become a Chinese Ninja. I rise above the ground and hang in the air and kick out with a shout of triumph. I swing my arms in fury and with great focus. I am mad, I am angry, I am ready to fight. I turned smoothly around and become a spanish dancer.......

..... with a flurry I swing my heavy dress around, lifting my arms confidently. I stretch out twisting my body. Passion fills my chest and I dance and dance and dance. Looking for the love, needing the love, desperate for the love. Challenging the love to come to me...

As the healer holds his hands over my broken heart I crumple and cry out in pain. I sob and choke, I scream and yell. Howling out until I am empty.

My crumpled heart lies on the dry earth exhausted and depleted......On my haunches with my forehead in the sand, I start feel a gentle bubbling in my chest. A chuckle and then a laugh errupts from me. I laugh and laugh and laugh till my belly and my cheeks ache.

I lift my head and as I open my eyes I see two closed lillies. The petals start to open right before my eyes......a gentle voice says "look up".  As I sit up and raise my eyes to the valley every closed lily opens gently, for me, until the whole valley is a symphony in white.......smiling at me, blooming for me, supporting me...

Next step



 I have been packing all day, with a wonderful energy and excitement for what lies ahead.
I move on the 1st October!

One never stays in the same place. Whether you like it or not you grow and move forward. To look ahead must become a habit. Sometimes to look behind at oldlife makes me sad, but newlife memories are funny and I can only shake my head.

I cried the first time I used a box colour on my hair. I was devastated.
I was scared to fall asleep in my flat alone and kept peering through the curtains into the tiny garden, when I did sleep I had nighmares.
I got lost driving to Brooklyn and I cried.
I sang uplifting songs all the way to Jhb when I got a job as a junior web developer, and cried all the way home.
I was ashamed to sit at the uif offices when I was retrenched a year later.
I felt guilt and shame the first time I dated a very sweet man, after being monogomous for 26 years.
I was self-conscious of my body and felt fat and old.
I missed my botox and facials, and I missed my boat.
I felt frustrated that I had to vaccuum and clean my own flat, I needed my housekeeper.
I laughed and cried when I realise that I'd had the shortest career as the oldest junior web developer in probably the whole country.
I cringed when my neighbour, who is old enough to be my child, repremanded me about parking in his spot.

but
Yesterday I laughed when someone put a sign on my car......"do not park so selfishly again!" Ok so I had parked over two parkings because it was the only shade. I left the sign on my windscreen all day and giggled to myself as I watched it flutterring in the wind.
I'm happy and free and never harbour guilt.
Although I've put on weight this year I feel beautiful and competent.

I am liberated.
I am grateful for the lessons and my gps.
Now I'll only look back to shake my head and laugh.

oh....and I bought another power tool!

Naughty Granny

The grandchildren had two grannies.
They wanted to differentiate between the grannies.
Both Grans had little dogs - as most Grannies do.
So they became known as Granny Spot and Granny Rufus.

I think I'll suggest this idea to my grandchildren - (when I eventually have them.)

.......and I'll be ready with my little dog.
I think I'll call her "Pretty".

Vivaldi - Gloria: 1. Gloria in excelsis Deo - Trevor Pinnock - The Engl...

This has to be my favourite piece of music in all the world to listen to.
I found this version on youtube and feel very nostalgic.
Anton Hartman conducted the Johannesburg Philharmonic Orchestra and the SA Youth Choir in 1979, my matric year. I was an Alto in the choir.

Crazy Spring Fever

It's been a while since I woke up feeling like a good spring clean.
The sound of the neighbours vacuum cleaner could have sparked some feeelings of guilt?
Or the fact that the sun is shining bright and hot for the first time in ages....
Whatever it was got me going nice and early - well, nine is early for me!
Unfortunately the spring clean got out of hand and turned into a bit of mania.
When on my hands and knees reaching into a corner to suck up that elusive web (including spider I'm afraid), I look up to see that the underside of the desk is VERY dry. Thirty seconds is all it takes, and I retract myself with the bright idea of oiling the desk.....at this point you should say to yourself - "STOP"
.....but I pull the desk out as far as it will go, cords allowing, with my foot. Holding the screen and my laptop in either hand I lie over the desk to place these two sensitive pieces of equipment onto the floor - on the far side.
Of course the cords are wound around the desk leg and the laptop won't reach the floor so I have to gently pull left to allow the plug to pop out....and voila I can go all the way down.
The laptop complains with melodious bleeping sounds, of too little battery and the 3G gets janked out in the process and falls to the floor from its prestik plug on the wall.
The desk has to be tipped over in a tiny space so out of the sliding door is the only option, but beacause my spring clean took on epic proportions there are kelims drying all over the patio.
No problem to move the kelims to make place for the desk...

Isn't the smell of oiled wood the most amazing thing?

I have a powertool!

I walked into builders warehouse to buy a spanner.

I walked out thrilled with my new Makita electric, cordless screwdriver!
Flat nose, stars and spanners - lots of them.

I couldn't wait to get home to open the box.

Small gasps of delight -

Is there something wrong with me?
ok - don't answer that!

Studded, Shiny gym pants

So I'm chuffed and very obviously shiny with my new magenta gym pants.

Studded all along the leg - all the way up, from the ankle to the waist - wonderful!

There were SO many of them on sale I was surprised thay hadn't been gobbled up as the doors opened.

I strutt into the gym ignoring the little smiles and the raised eyebrow.

As soon as I lie on my side I realise that they really are just "addidas show pants!"
The studs bite into your hips while you count out 100 leg lifts to the ladies on the floor.
The studs grind your thighs as you perform the most beautiful scissor splits.
......and when you stretch.....they pop open!

I have bruises!
I still wear them -
What can I say
I LOVE a bargain

Battery Bummer

Well I woke up and rushed out to be "just" in time for my pilates class and my battery was flat. I quickly phoned the gym with the excuse, after admitting to the group instructor the evening before that I wasn't keen to do the class on a holiday.
Obviously she was dubious.
Car trouble?
I felt like a dog with it's tail tucked in.
....and nothing I could say would change the fact.
It was pouring with rain and I walked to the security gate to look for jumper cables.

The nice man had a four wheeler and said he'd give me a lift to the clubhouse to fetch them.
I hop on the back holding the seat with two fingers, while trying to keep umbrella over head, keys in hand and phone from falling.
I slip around on the roundbar carrier.
The nice man was a very keen speedhump jumper!
We got to the clubhouse in one piece but I declined the lift back!

Anyway I flagged down another nice young man to help me jump start my car.
There are some advantages to being middleaged and a little ratty.

That was the second time in a month!

How does that law work - the one Murphy created?

Never drive anywhere wearing your Pj's -

Well I did!
All the way - ten kilo's- on the highway, to Brooklyn, to post a parcel.

...and while I ran in I left the radio playing.
...and when I got back the battery was flat.
...and I had to call AA roadside assistance.
...and they came, and I payed and chatted and smiled!
...and made as if there was nothing wrong,
...nothing wrong at all with me wearing my Pj's!

Flat Hunt

"If you don't make an offer today, it'll be gone by the morning!" announces the agent. I'm starting to enjoy my outings with the Estate Agents in Pretoria - I think it may be a good way to pass time, even if you're not looking for a property.

The minute you realise that the person driving you to view a place doesn't know you or doesn't particularly care, except for his commission, and then you can have just a little bit of fun.

Receiving an sms announcing, "I have found the perfect place for you!" was exciting. Of course when I got into his car he mentioned that there was just a little bit of work to do. I was skeptical and when we arrived it took me about 2 minutes to decide, that "no" this stinky flat was NOT the one. He then stood outside and informed me that "I'd better decide quickly or it would fly!"
Goodness all these flats and town houses doing a flying or disappearring act when there are 987 properties listed for sale in faerie glen alone. The mind boggles.
Strange thing, that all of the flats shown to me by this particular agent had a funny smell.

"You'll NEVER get granite in the kitchen for THAT price", when goodness I've seen ten new developements, ALL with granite in the kitchen.

"It IS a bit hot in this beautiful little A-frame, "with loft", but you can just put in an aircon".
He failed to mention that you would also have to be a midget to get into the bathroom upstairs.
You would also definitely have to remain seated in the loft area.........or be between the ages of two and six.

When I arrived at a lovely simplex I noticed that there was double electric fencing and four security boards nailed to the wall..........I enquired as to whether there was a security risk and the agent assured me vehemently "NO, as soon as someone TOUCHES the electric fencing, the guards will be here."
Well then why have they installed a laser "eye" on the outside wall?
....and no, we can't open the garage because the vicious dog is locked in there!
"So, Mandy, when will you be making an offer - this is a BARGAIN and the seller is in a hurry."
I replied that I would have to consult with my guru and let him know first thing in the morning.
I quite enjoyed the perturbed look on his face.

One man insists on showing me properties way above my price range, he only informs me as we leave "it's a little more than you wanted to pay, but you can just get a LITTLE bond."
What a freak!

The agent in the sports car said "you're a bit strange because I've shown you three lovely flats but you don't react, and now they're GONE".
Did I really have to remind her that I don't want a stack? Simplex, simplex, simplex. So big deal 3 flats have disappeared and now there are only 984 left!.....in faerie glen.
Then she showed me a simplex, "a needle in a hay stack", she called it - with the garage accessing the yard and 1,5 bathrooms and the perfect garden.
So when I asked to look at the garage, there is no door? and when I enquire she says, "it's in the right place you just have to break through the wall to get access.......it will be PERFECT".
A 1.5 bathroom should be one full and a guest toilet, no? So this more like 1/2 and 1/2, yes?

A young agent showed me a victorian first floor apartment and assured me that I would love the secure feeling "up there". I asked him where my garage was, and he pointed to "down there". When my friend phoned I loudly exclained that "I can't possibly tell this young man that I'm a screamer, and that's why I simply CAN'T take a stack dol!"

Funny that one never phoned me back.....pity, he was cute.

I found out that "don't worry too much about the damp" means (after digging up an old resident) the beautiful developement is built on a vlei!
I had a house that was built on a vlei - so I know why the crack appears in the floor and your life becomes all about covering up the cracks - so you don't buy the house!

As I scroll through the thousands of pictures on the internet, the "huge bargains" I saw six months ago are still there.

A day in the Life.....

So Danny has to be at the airport at 5.30am and of course I oblige.
I love anything that entails coffee in my "car cup" and middle of the night moves - so the alarm goes off at 3.30am and I'm off.
Danny has travelled a lot more than I have, I know because she can wear her slippers to an international airport and onto the plane and not give a fig!
She also whips out her role of Jiffy wrap and proceeds, with the dexterity of a spider, to wind that suitcase up so fast and tight that I get a bit nervous.
I don't say anything.
I look on with great respect.
Anyway my visions of coffee with my travelling daughter are dashed when she declines politely and requests the drop-off!

I'm impresssed by her independence, but I'm also home by 6.00am!

I planned a whole day around this!

I had been meaning to re-apply for my ID for ages and the only place I could go this early in the morning was to Home Affairs, so off I went with a long sigh and thoughts of queueing.

Well, it was a pleasure!

Like a guest of honor I was invited into the plastic booth to have pics taken, paid my R50 and got a much needed update for my "boekie".
In my last ID photo I was a smiling face in the midst of large head of frizzy permed hair, that was taken to either side of my head, with combs in big bunches......it WAS very fashionable at the time.
I was out after a short while and the new ID cost me all of twenty South African rand.

Next stop was the blood bank to donate blood and get a signature on my red card!
I don't think I've been eating very well and after a hectic few weeks of little sleep and 21 lessons of pilates per week they turned me away - my iron levels were low........but at least now I know why I've been feeling so pooped.

Off to the dentist.
My tooth broke a long time ago and you know how it is? Yup, it takes a while to make that appointment. The procrastinating will cost a bit 'cause I had to have root canal treatment.
Just a few little bleating sounds and my dentist obliged with more anesthetic injection - he's such a perceptive man.

The minute I got home of course a wave of exhaustion hit me and I crashed like an old oak tree and woke up feeling "like-you-feel-like-when-you've-slept-for-four-hours-while-the-sun-shines", spoiled and pampered.
.............and ready to stay up all night.........again!

.............and it just so happens to be a "drumming night"
Life is Good

Pretoria Academic Hospital

I’ve just got home from a visit to an uncle in the Pretoria Academic Hospital and I think I may need therapy.

I drove around the hospital block and asked 3 different people for directions to the main entrance.
One security guard led me to the medical faculty and yet another to the “old” HF Verwoerd which is now the Tswane hospital.
One man asked if it was “the old one or the new one?” Well, how would I know – so I used my clue – "the hospital with a nineth floor……………..?”
Aaaah the new one!”
I eventually drove into the gates of the Steve Biko Academic Hospital which had the Pretoria Academic signboard just inside the gates?

I was early for visiting hour but made my way to the entrance anyway.
The lady official behind the door shook her head and said “No, you must wait outside because it isn’t time yet.”

What? “Outside the hospital you mean?!”

“Yes” she nods “until it’s time”.

What are you talking about! Since when can’t you walk into the foyer or wait on the ground floor or go to the chemist.

“Well, can I go to the canteen for a cup of tea?”……….and this gets me entry!
“Yes, she announces, I can, I am allowed to enter if I’m going to have a cup of tea!”

If my eyes weren’t as big as saucers already, they were now.
The coffee shop looked as if it’s been looted!
There were crumbs and papers all over the floor and the shelves held a few scattered sweets .
After trying to work out what exactly was going on , I eventually find someone to answer me, but “No there is no tea Madam”.

Apparently the shop will be under new management on Monday and all I could get was a very dusty looking chocolate bar which I bought while longingly looking at the urn on the counter.
I felt duped.
There IS no chemist or flower shop and now there is obviously no coffee shop.

The Ward held yet more interesting developments.

I was apparently STILL too early and was asked to wait in what felt like a holding cell filled with black plastic chairs.
The obese woman opposite me struggled to get out of her seat with a sigh and a loud fart!

When I asked where my Uncle was I got a grunt from a mouth full of KFC and a long pointed finger on the end of a disinterested arm.

I found him and I was thrilled and grateful.

Sitting on his bed my Uncle told me that he had given his supper to his ward companion who had obviously a large appetite that was in contradiction to his thin frame.
We couldn’t help smiling when the man’s visitors arrived with packets full of food.
He received this with gusto and polished off a pile of Pap and meat.
The visitors then presented three large mangos.
We had to look down and hold our heads as they nibbled and suckled on the mangos making all the appropriate noises chewing through skin and all.
We couldn’t help smiling.

A rattling came through the door and a happy and smiling and wrinkled lady served us all tea in polystyrene cups.
The tea was a sweet prize.

We declined the inch thick slices of brown bread wrapped in cling wrap.
Our hungry compatriot definitely wanted a snack and eagerly dipped his bread into his tea.
I was interested to ask if there was a filling? Was this a sandwich or dry bread?
“No” replied his girlfriend confidently – “it is dry because they aren’t sure - you may be a vegan”.

Hey?

I say my goodbyes.

I look back to wave and see that the visitors are lying all over the man’s hospital bed taking photos, happy snaps of their happy time together in the hospital ward.

I walk out of the ward and pass the ward sisters dipping their arms into greasy bags, pulling out fistfuls of “slap chips” and talking loudly through mouths full of putty.
I think I need help to process this picture.

Everything has slowed down.
I’m speechless.

Platinum or Platinum?

So I have to meet friends at the Hartebeespoort Dam.
I get directions "onto the Platinum Highway and stay on it!
Pass through two toll gates each approximately R7.50.
Before you get to the Dam you’ll pass a BIG wall – Joost van der Westhuizens new development.
The journey should take about forty minutes."
Got it!
I give a few pilates classes on Zambezi Road and I’ve seen the Platinum Highway signboards – so I feel I’m sorted and head off confidently at 8am to be in time for breakfast just before nine.
I pass a number of Platinum Highway signs and feeling cool, hum away to myself.
First toll gate in sight and it’s R9.50?.....mmm ok close enough and then oh? wonderful ! – there’s the long facebrick wall.
I’m impressed on two counts.
That my friends even knew that this was Joost’s development, and that Joost had a low cost housing development that he didn't advertise. After all of stories I've heard maybe I was wrong about the man.
Another Platinum sign board.
I wondered when I was going to veer West? but kept going and breathed a sigh of relief when I see the second toll gate in the distance.
The charge is R35.50 and the alarm bells start to sound.
I also havn’t seen any Hartties signboards yet? but hang on, there’s one up ahead and I keep going.
Bela Bela..............isn't that Warmbaths?
I can't believe it!
I say a "Mantra when Lost" which goes something like........."relax don't panic we are still in South africa relax don't panic fuk think breathe fuk you'll get there relax don't panic we are still in South africa relax don't panic fuk think breathe fuk you'll get there..."
I ask for directions, again.
The nice man tells me that it’s not too far.
"Turn around, go back through two toll gates R35.50. and R9.50, turn west when you get to Pretoria and you'll be heading in the right direction Madam."
Well to say that my face dropped is a bloody understatement!
I nearly fainted, at which point I got a phone call to say “Where ARE you!”
All I could do was stare, breathe, and say “I’m coming”.
So, I did get onto the right road.
I did go through the two R7.50 toll gates.
There they were! The very same Platinum Highway signs!?
I saw the long wall, although rich and creamy and plastered.
I realised that I was right about Joost and that he had not become a charitable philanthropist, .............and there’s a very large bill board with his face plastered all over it, advertising his new and exclusive upmarket development.
I did get to the dam.…….. albeit at 10.30am.
I had a lovely brunch and a wonderful day thank you very much.
.…..and NO I do NOT want to discuss it!

Five Years Younger in just Forty Minutes.

I’ve put off coloring my hair the whole week.
The box of “chocolate 500”, a mocking reminder that I need to use it in the first place and then still halve it in the second, but my grey roots are insisting on some attention.
The thought of giving the 8am fitness class to ten young women at virgin active helps to motivate me.
I set my alarm for six this morning to deal with the pressing crisis.

I groan as I sleepily slap the light switch and realize that it had blown the night before.
Do I really have to balance on a high chair with the torch in my mouth and a screw driver in my hand ?
I look in the mirror and realize there’s no way I could even see the grey in this light.
So yes, out comes the chair, the torch, the screwdriver and as I reach for the very fuzzy screw I realize that I need my glasses !

So now I’m back on the chair peering through the glasses swearing at the bad light and this screwdriver just isn’t doing the job.
After a few mumbled choice words with screws in my mouth, the cover is off.
I do a power backbend and a super sidebend to reach the bulb and the job is done!
I hop off the chair test the switch and up again to return the cover.
In the light of a new 100w globe I realize that the screwdriver is full of dry mud. I had some weeds in my paving and I’ve always used a screwdriver……

So I mix the colour and daub on the miracle that will make me look 5 years younger, make me feel full of fun and energy, sexy, and confident - all in just forty minutes!

STOP PRESS

When I walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror I gave a shriek!
I had waited the allotted forty minutes but had forgotten that the eyebrow dye only takes five. So now I have beautiful chocolate roots and very thick pitch black eyebrows!

The Curious Cat

I was lying in bed sleepily when I heard a mewing at my window. A beautiful tortoiseshell cat was peering at me as if to ask for entry. I opened the window and was thrilled to see her hop in and immediately start purring. She seemed to feel at home and walked around my flat inspecting the new surrounds, purring and pressing herself against the furniture. It was such a blessing. I was missing my two beautiful cats, one that looked not dissimilar to my new visitor.

Her tag read “Curios” and I frowned but realized the spelling mistake as she was soon in the cupboards, under the beds and very curious about my home.

Every day saw the return of the curious cat and I soon enjoyed getting home, fairly frazzled, to be met at my door by the enthusiastic feline friend.

The weight on my feet as I fell asleep was comforting. She obviously had an owner but living in a large complex, I assumed that there wasn’t a problem. How do you contain a cat? That’s exactly why I love them.

I was digging away in the garden when I felt a presence!

I looked up to find a scowling woman watching me and smiled immediately, trying to disarm her.

“Where’s my cat?”, she spat.

Aaaah…………”Well I’m not sure which cat is yours, there are a few running around the complex?”

“Curious”, the short answer came.
So I was right about the spelling mistake.
“I’m not sure, she may be in my flat but she comes and goes, you’re welcome to have a peep”, I said smiling and opening the gate.

She was VERY determined and walked straight in, looking in every room. She came out and asked me why the cat was SO “rustig” ? Curious was lying on the spare room bed. Well, what do you say?

Ask the cat?

She informed me that she was going to remove the cat and that I was to keep my windows closed! December in Pretoria?......I don't think so. Back in she went and came out with Curios, I mean Curious, in her arms. I opened the gate and as she walked through it, the cat went ballistic and scratched her in her face as she clung furiously to her. Blood dripping into her eye, she stalked away indignantly.

Why did I feel guilty – I didn’t even feed the cat……oh, and now I realize why she looked around the kitchen!

Well, that was that and I continued my gardening. Later that evening Curious was back and plopped herself cosily on the bed. An irate woman followed shortly after, banging on my door clutching a plastic cat carrier and wearing a very unfortunate expression on her scratched face that made me want to giggle.

She pressed the unwilling cat into the carrier and announced that she would be taking Curious to her parents in Witbank!
Goodness, such a terrible punishment for anyone !
I had no claim and after all it was her cat, so I shrugged my shoulders and off she sped.

I did miss her, but two weeks later she was back. She slunk into my home like a villain, her head hung and her body seemed bruised. She looked sad and done in, as she slowly snuggled into a corner of the chair.

Lo and behold I soon had a bashing on my door and opened it to a very confused woman. We had a long discussion about why her cat wouldn’t stay at home, about control, possession and love.

A week later after intermittent visits from Curios I received her “papers” under my door.I often see her in the parking lot and we have a quick cat chat, but strangely enough she’s stopped coming to visit me altogether.

It was almost as if she knew that I now “owned” her…..and she would have none of it!

That’s what I love about cats.

Curious owner though?

Lucid Luxury

I lay down on the bed for my long overdue facial and submitted myself to the most wonderful hands, softly massaging my face with thick creamy cleanser.

I never thought I would ever get knee-buckling gooseflesh all the way down my legs, in a public place again.

As she massages my head and neck I lay back feeling like a wealthy widow from waterkloof and drifted into a lucid dream state.

I registered the beautician leaving the room for me to steam and coming back a few minutes later. I think it's considered a compliment if you can get the client to fall asleep on the chair.

If I woke up to hear myself snore twice? - that must mean that I fell asleep twice?

Good on you Antoinette!

Pride or Prejudice?

So every two weeks I head off to the drumming circle and sit around a fire connecting with myself, by rhythmically paddling an African drum. Some people have warned me that I am mixing with people who are dark and awakening the devil. The only people I think would be awakened are the neighbours, but maybe they think we are calling on the ancestors?
I wouldn’t know.

“Which ancestors would you like to call on tonight?”
Not sure cause I don’t know any?

So with this in mind, I was worried about where to practice my digeridoo in the complex where I live – but realized there is an upside.

When I first put my lips to the tube and blew, I was worried that my sound was more like a long fart and didn’t much sound like the droning sound the others made – until I got the droning sound and was ecstatic, and realized that the first sound WAS just like a long fart.

So the thing is – as long as the neighbours think I’m windy and not evil I recon I should be ok.

That’s the upside …..or should I rather say – the downside?

From Glider to Go-Kart and back

Ok, so two weeks ago I smacked my car into the back of a truck!

The panel beaters in Pretoria kindly handed me the keys to a citi golf courtesy car – for which I was definitely grateful, make no mistake.

So I head off hunched over the steering wheel, jerking down Schoeman str. revving too much and then too little. For the first day I activated the windscreen wipers to indicate and stalled on all inclines.

I have new respect for anyone who doesn’t have the privilege of aircon, and arrived at every destination just a little hot and my hair in a state of windswept wildness.

Every parking area was scanned for any shade, and then of course I had to negotiate the gear lock. As I approached the car I did try (only once) to press the key and point it at the car to unlock, with no success. Central locking and electric windows – how quickly we get used to these luxuries.

I had to get to Zambezi road from Pretoria East in a hurry and was speeding along – I was a bit worried that I may get a ticket but when I looked at the speedo I was only doing 80km per hour! From the noise and the shuddering I was under the impression that I was driving dangerously fast. I needed to “put foot” so pushed until I was doing 100km’s per hour and just at that speed my review mirrors couldn’t handle the wind and collapsed, hugging the car! They are only tiny but without them I was twisting and turning in the traffic just to stay alive.

By the end of the week I’m a pro and should take the opportunity to challenge someone to go-kart racing – I’m confident that I’ve done the training, and besides without power steering my arms can only be stronger.

I drove out with my newly repaired car today which felt like a hover craft, looked brand new and I am grateful.

Journey Thoughts

 I used to think that life is a ladder and up we must go. Always measuring yourself against someone else. Either looking up or looking down.

The minute I realised that we are all worthy and on the same journey the pressure was off. I'm enjoying the feeling of today. One day at a time, not making too many plans and being grateful when I'm blessed.

The feeling of joy that I am unique. To "be myself" is all I have to do and it's enough. Look straight ahead and look into your eyes. We are equal. There is no competition.

Everyone has had a share of hardship and everyone has a story to tell. My story is no more important than yours.

If I try not to assume anything and never take anything personally, I avert feelings of envy, guilt, grudge and self pity. Read the messages the universe sends, be teachable and open to change.

I have lost a few friends along the way and have peace that there is a season for everything and if we grow and change then some things will fall away.

Allow people to move on and take a different path and release them with love.

If I listen to what you have to say I will learn something about you, and maybe about me, and hopefully about life.

When I slowed down my frantic search I realised that what I was looking for was right in front of me.

Silly Question.

My Accountant phoned me today with the happy news that she’s ready to send in my tax returns.

“You just have to make a first payment of R650 though, before the end of the week.”

“Ok, I can do without that this month though”, I reply.

Now get this – “We could make that zero if you want to”, she offers.

“Excuse me?, make it zero?”, I’m confused.

“Yes, we could just adjust a few figures, and you wouldn’t have to pay anything”,“would you prefer that?”

Ok , so now there’s silence – I mean, how would you respond.

“Hell Yes darling, lets make it zero!”

Oops!

Ok…So, you and I both know that you NEVER assume someone pregnant on the grounds that they are a little chubby and may LOOK pregnant.

I learned this lesson in the eighties in Bloemfontein.
I was late for work one morning and rushing, I shot the stop street.
I don’t think it would be wise to mention that I was daubing mascara onto my eyelashes at the time, but I was. Isn’t it amazing how your lashes in your twenties are, or seem to be thick and long and beautiful and they become short and thin and non-co-operative when you’re over the age of forty five? Oh, you aren’t over the age of forty five?
Well I was twenty two then and mine were beautiful.

…….back to the stop street (which wasn’t working!). So I didn’t see the stop and crashed straight into the door of a white car!

Bugger!

And the usual shock and horror, screaming, swearing and tears.
So as I approach the woman in the drivers seat with an “oops!” look on my face, I see that she’s pregnant.
“Oh my goodness!” I say “Is the baby ok?”
She glares at me and with venom dripping from her voice, which has prevented me from making this mistake again for over twenty five years says "I'm NOT pregnant!"

Yesterday I met a woman who started chatting away at me.
I didn’t know her from a bar of soap and she told me where she bought her top – from foschinis. I did the “ooh” and “ahh” (It WAS beautiful).
She mentioned that her boobs had gotten SO big (showing me with her hands, just how big) and that she’d put on so much weight.

Well, there you have it – she DID look pregnant, and she spoke as if she was pregnant and YES, I did! “Well, I wouldn’t worry just yet”, I said “You can loose it all after having the baby”, and added “congratulations!”

She was very sweet, "I'm not actually pregnant, but a few people have made the same mistake."

Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better.

I’ve broken a twenty five year record!

Kissing with none clothes on!

William (7), Joseph (5) sitting in the back of the car.

We’re all sunburned and restful.

On our way home from a wonderful day of windsurfing at the dam.

Daniela (2) lies sleeping, her face angelic, in my lap.

“Mommie?”, from Joseph wondering if I’d dropped off.

“Mmmm?”, I reply drowsily.

“Those boys by da water say dat some people day kiss”.

“Mmmmm really Joe, that’s nice, people do kiss, yes”, I reply.

“Ja, that’s what they were talking about”, emphatically from William.

“Mommie?”, from Joe.

“Mmmmm?”

“Mommie, but day say da’ve got none clothes on”, trying to get my attention,which it did, “really Joe, which boys were these?”

“Those big boys at the dam”, confirms William quietly.

“Oh Ja?”, not knowing where they wanted to go with this.

“Mommie?”, persists Joe.

“Mmmm?”

“Mommie, but day dat da girl she taked off her bwa!”, he says dramatically.

“No clothes mom, they were bare!”, adds William ,triumphant.

“Ok, I think then maybe it was a mommie and a daddy Joe?”, I reassure him.

“NO”, states William categorically “They were big kids”, nodding his head.

OK, I think, here we go!

“Mommie?” Joe asks softly, “Mommie?”, coming close to my face with his.

“Yes Joe Joe”, I ask.

I’m now wide awake and ready, “What is it my love?”

“Mommie, Whats a bwa?”

Bird Cage

I wake up early and pop my washing into the washing machine.
My little garden has a big tree in the middle and on the far side is my single garage.
Hanging the washing on the drying rack in the garage, I'm deep in thought.
The security gate has automatically locked behind me as I come in.
A half an hour later I'm ready to go to work but can’t place my house keys.
Looking around with a frown I remember that I’d been outside.
Of course when I look through the leaves of my big tree I see the bunch of keys hanging innocently from the garage door.
You know that sinking feeling.
I can somehow understand someone locking themselves out, but locking yourself in?, seems impossible.
I peer outside my kitchen window and and see my neighbor in his boxers and call “helllooooo, excuse me, hellloooooo.”
All this does is send him scuttling back into the cover of his flat!
My shoulders slump with a disappointed “Aarg”.
I try again, this time aiming at a fully clothed man on his way to work.
He looks around to see my arms reaching through the little kitchen window and comes closer, slowly.
I smile widely but not too widely, I don't want to scare him away.
“and No, I don’t want to arrest you, accost you, or marry you!”
(I don’t say this, I only think this)All I’m asking him to do, is walk around to my back gate, jump over the wall, and hand me a bunch of keys.
I explain the reason for the early morning gymnastics to a very dubious frown and he agrees to do my bidding.
He hands me the bunch of keys through the security gate, and as I reach out and clutch at them, the story of Hansel and Grettel comes to mind.

I watch to make sure that he hops straight back over that wall.

You can never be too sure, you know.
There are some strange people around.

Geriatric Joyride

I’m just finishing off with a client in my studio and a loud “MWHAAAAAAAAAAAAaeeee”, sounds outside and trails away down the road.

I see my client out and a white honda passes with another “MWHAAAAAAAAAAAdyyyyyyyyyyy” trailing away again.

I recognise my name in there somewhere so I crane my neck and catch a glimpse of the back of the car with someone hanging out of the window and step closer to see what the dickens is going on!

Here it comes again, and yes, I’m sure that looks like my parents’ car? I recognise my mom hanging out of the window, arms flailing! “MAANdyyyyyyyyyy”.

She’s seen me and I wait as they come around the block for the fourth round, this time
shouting “MAANdy open the gaaaaaate”.

Well, obviously I do as I’m told, as quickly as possible, AND clear the area!

They have entry! They make a decisive detour and come to a neat stop in the driveway!

The look on my face? “The aliens have landed!”

My windswept mom steps out with a big smile, “is it ok if we stop for tea?”

“Of course, but are you ok? Is there a problem?”, I ask with wide disbelieving eyes and a mouth that doesn’t want to listen when I say “close”.

“No problem, the car keeps cutting out every time we stop, so we thought we’d just HAVE to stop INSIDE.”

Melt-Down

In London for the reunion with my beloved Aunty G.
We’re staying at the home of the unfortunate Aunty D, of Hammersmith Halo fame.

On the first night of the long chats with Aunty G her face melts in front of my eyes!
Her mouth droops, her eyes close and I hear a mumble that sounds a bit like “sfgleedkfpvkjfinghv tablet” and she reaches for a contraption that makes me think she’s going snorkeling.
Protruding from the nose-piece is a tube that looks very disturbingly like a large dildo.

Our conversation ends, just like that….. with me in mid-sentence and her in mid-meltdown.
So I go to my room and have disturbing dreams of Darth Vader.
The only signs at breakfast are the indentations from the mask on the sides of a smiling face. I marvel.

We head off for Bath where we find a wonderful youth hostel . A few days of sightseeing and relaxed banter sounds glorious.

“You know of course we’ll have to move on tomorrow don’t you?” says Aunty G.
“No why, aren’t we here for a few days?” I reply.
“We’re in Bath for a few days, yes, but in a different hostel every night” she says pulling her face.
“whaaat, no ways we can just stay here”, it’s just not debatable.

So we snuggle in for the night, exhausted from the days roaming and chat away until melt-down.

Ten minutes into my drifting into a blissful sleep I’m on high alert.

A helicopter takes off right above me crashes into a roaring lion!
For a second there I listen in disbelief. Again it spins up, up, up with a whining desperate sound, holds for a breathtaking three seconds and then comes at the roaring lion with aggressive fury.

The same helicopter takes off and crashes into the same roaring lion all night long, over and over again.
Coughs and sighs and exasperated noises come from six sleepless beds.
It spins up, up, up with a whining desperate sound, holds for a breathtaking three seconds and then comes at the roaring lion with aggressive fury.

I lie dead still, rigid, wide awake.
It spins up, up, up with a whining desperate sound, holds for a breathtaking three seconds and then comes at the roaring lion with aggressive fury.

I’m tempted to shake her awake to make sure she’s ok, but as I listen I realize there’s a pattern, a rhythm. She’s alive and well, fast asleep and blissfully unaware.
It spins up, up, up with a whining desperate sound, holds for a breathtaking three seconds and then comes at the roaring lion with aggressive fury.

Eight hours of pillow bashing and animal slaughter later, she wakes refreshed and beaming.
A room full of travelers glare and growl and Aunty G cheerfully says “Oh my, did I snore? So sorry it happens sometimes, but not to worry we’re leaving today”.

“Oh and we must go and get my tabs cause if I don’t take them, my snoring will keep me awake!”


I love my Aunty G
Bath, London 2004

Wicked Cake!

Janine is serving the most delectable cakes at the stork tea.
There is a large group of women and plates are coming and going fast.
Daniela and I decide to share a slice.
I look around for my plate but can’t find it.
There is a relatively clean plate in the kitchen which I decide to use.
We spoon soft sponge and caramel, with white icing into our mouths with moans of delight.
We savour each heavenly smooth treat.
Daniela spots a creamy lump on the side of the plate and sweeps her finger through it saying “mmmm, and whats this?”
I watch her, and wait until her finger is in her mouth and say.”I dunno, it’s not our plate!”

A wicked grin from Mom and wide-eyed disgust from Daniela did bring on an attack of protracted hysterical laughter and clinging together. :-)

Duvet in a Bag

So Gentle - so Powerful

So I made a duvet-in-a-bag for Lyndsay’s Stork tea

It’s a boy! - Mathew

As I closed the bag it caught my eye – I opened the bag to look again - in disbelief !

My legs went weak and I had to sit on the bed and marvel

Daniela - from the Hebrew for "God is my Judge". She is as free as the air and will not be held down.....A beautiful Butterfly.

Mandy - From the Latin meaning "Worthy of Love"Gentle and kind, beautiful and caring, she loves unselfishly.
She values her family above all else.

These pieces of material had been cut and sewn into Strips long before
- probably 2 years ago (before I left for Pretoria)

see blog – And the Butterfly follows me

Full deck of cards

We all get a full deck of cards.
If there are a few extra jokers in yours, count yourself lucky.
You have more options.
You can have fun all on your own.
You have an excuse, if you're prepared to use one.
You can bend the rules.
If used wisely this card can carry more weight than a queen
and can be more valuable than a king.

I may be in Trouble

If Sugar does to my Mind
What Alcohol does to an empty stomach
Does that mean my mind is empty?


this is just a thought and does not require anyone to comment!