Friday, December 24, 2010

Merry Christmas!

Another hour and it will officially be the 25th of December. Santa has dropped off all the loot for those who made the Nice List this year, kids are fast asleep in anticipation. Gammon is nearly done, leg of lamb is almost falling off the bone tender, two trifles are maturing in the fridge...all that remains is for J&C to wake us up at some gawdawful time tomorrow morning declaring it present time, oh and TGU needs to hurry up and have a safe quick drive from home to Hermanus.

Have a great Christmas this year, hope you are all with your loved ones eagerly anticipating a celebration of life, love, food, happiness and family.

Monday, November 29, 2010

The sun isn't free anymore!

I thought I'd heard it all until I came across this little snippet.

She claims to be the owner of the sun, she wants to charge everyone on the planet for using her product.

I wonder how long it will be until someone sues her for the damage her product is causing to the human race as far as cancer is concerned.

Friday, November 26, 2010


I volunteered to caption photos on the eGGSA database gravestone website, a huge tool for genealogists. My first cemetery is the memorial wall in Hermanus.

If you have ever been in Hermanus, you'd know that the community itself is largely made up of old people. Grandparents. With the younger family members usually joining their parents and grandparents during school holidays and over weekends. (Disclaimer : As the older people die or move to a retirement village, younger people are buying up the properties so the community age is slowly changing, and of course developers are buying up parcels of land all over the area and building multi level blocks of apartments.)

A few things I have noticed :

1 - When you are married for a very long time (45 years and more) and you die, your partner usually follows within 2 to 3 months.

2 - Sometimes age doesn't matter, especially if you are a woman and born in the first 15 years of the 1900s. You can be older than your husband.

3 - Our grandparents' generation has probably lived longer than we will. Even with a low life expectancy in the first few years of the 1900s.

4 - People my age are starting to die.

I've never really thought about the type of funeral I want or the epitaph, if I want one. I would not like to be buried, that I do know. A memorial stone in a garden of rememberance....I don't know if I want that either. For now, I've put it in my will that my ashes be scattered, that is if J&C or Himself end up honouring my wishes. Basically I don't want my body to rot in a grave.

I still like the idea of a Viking funeral though, no fuss, no mess, just a blaze of flames and it's done.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Time to let go?


In January of 2002, when J was 11 months old, Himself and I flew to London and then on to Australia with J.

This was just after 9/11, things were crazy mad at airports. You couldn't take anything with you on the plane. When it came to food for J, it was a nightmare to comply. While in London, we spent a morning walking around the Tower of London complex and had lunch in their caffeteria. I bought a couple of jars of baby food, firstly because it was organic and secondly because I think by then J was a bit tired of the oatmeal I'd packed in.

When we finally came back home a month later, I found a jar of food in the nappy bag so put it away fully intending to feed it to him at some point.

Today, 9 years later almost, I finally tossed it. I think it was time, don't you? :D

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Knight and Day

Don't waste your money.

I think it is time Tom Cruise hangs up his (un)skillful acting hat and becomes a permanent spokesperson for Scientology. He'd do better selling their cheesy imitation religion than he does selling himself as a secret agent.

I kept expecting the cast from Debbie Does Dallas to jump out kaalgat and do their thing because the soundtrack sounded so damn cheesy. I would have fallen asleep watching it but the toilet break and shower I had in the first half revived me too much. And Himself would have been offended that, yet again, I did not enjoy a movie he chose.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

I've won the blueberry battle!

I posted a long while back about how J is a vegetarian and how C is a carnivore. For the longest time I have found myself back at the dinner table struggle with C. J is quite content to eat mostly vegetables (he's slowly abandoning the idea that meat is all bad but still loves a plate piled high with just veg) and enjoys all kinds of fruits. C however, fights me tooth and nail to eat healthy and more diverse. She'd live on a diet of meat, meat, meat, sweet carrots, meat, cheese and bananas, strawberries with ice cream and peanut butter. Every once in a while I buy blueberries, hoping to tempt her into at least trying one berry. But no, she pulls away in disgust every single time.

So you can imagine the horror on her face yesterday when I showed her what I'd bought besides all the meat. A punnet of fresh blueberries. No biggie I told her, she didn't have to eat it. J and I would.

This morning while making their school lunches, I cut up some fresh strawberries with pieces of pineapple for her and added a handful of blueberries to J's. She stood watching me eat a handful myself and when I held one out to her, she ate it. Absolute disgust all over her face. Then I held out two more. She took those and ate them too, same look of horror and disgust combined. Then a few more, still with the disgust. When I started to close the punnet, she came round the counter and very politely asked if I would put a few in for her too. I nearly passed out.

The little container has about 30 blueberries in it....I wonder how many will be eaten and how many will find their way back home. Actually I don't care if any make it back home, just the fact that she ate a few this morning and asked for more must surely mean I'm slowly getting through to her?

Friday, November 12, 2010

The Gatsby

I was cruising on my favourite mommy website when a thread about food porn from your particular neck of the woods came up. One of the items I shared was the Gatsby. Now if you've ever lived in or near Cape Town you will instantly know what I am talking about....that rather intimidatingly large roll filled with everything under the sun including slap chips, dripping sauce everywhere. Usually shared between a few office mates for lunch over a bottle of coke.

While searching for pictures to post on the thread to show what a Gatsby is, I came across this lesson in how to eat a Gatsby from It is spot on from what I remember.

1. Keep the time between purchase and consumption of the Gatsby as short as possible. Cold chips are no one’s friend.
2. Cut the Gatsby into a maximum of four pieces. Anything smaller is a gross injustice to the Gatsby because there’s no way you’ll be filled by a fifth or less.
3. Any chip falling from any given piece of the Gatsby is considered fair game. The ruling on this is final.
4. When separating the Gatsby, note the point of division: practice absolute precision here to avoid taking the bottom roll of the next person’s piece. Ask for assistance if necessary.
5. You must finish your share. Besides it being a terrible waste, you’ll be scorned by the Gatsby Fraternity for all time for being vesin.
6. Grip is critical. Cup your piece in your hand so that loose bits have nowhere to fall except back into your hands. Avoid the scenario described in Point 3.
7. NEVER leave the Gatsby unattended.
8. It’s best to accompany the Gatsby with a beverage, ie Jive, Frulati or Cabana. Hearty burping guarantees relief.
9. Observe relative silence when consuming the Gatsby. No one likes to talk and eat at the same time. See Point 1 regarding cold chips.
10. Always wash hands with soap and water at the conclusion to avoid getting a spicy finger in the eye, a condition commonly known as Gatsby Eye. The only cure is self-induced crying. No one wants to see that, so just make the trip and wash your damn hands.
11. The bra (person) that contributes the least towards the gatsby gets the smallest piece.
12. The Gatsby is not supposed to be eaten out of a plate, so make sure you ask the BB.Sc (Bra Behind Shop Counter) to doublewrap the Gatsby to ensure enough paper for everyone.
13. Avoid eye contact with anyone not eating the Gatsby for fear of them asking for a “stukkie” (piece) or shouting “kap ‘n baat” (give me a piece).
14. When sipping on the Frulati, make sure you only have 2 sips then pass… anyone attempting more than 2 sips forfeit the next round.
15. Nothing on the Gatsby is to be wasted (refer point 5), that includes any salads or sauces still remaining in the paper… lick it up!
16. When the Gatsby is finished, it’s obligatory to finish the ritual with a cigarette, beware though of anyone asking for “‘n skyf” (drag); thus make sure you get some sauce on the filter of the cigarette to avoid having to share your “entjie” (butt).
So, if like me you enjoy a ginormous sandwich with everything on it, and it is your first time, follow these simple rules and you will be fine.
/I wonder if that kaffie in Atlantis still exists...selling his Gatsbys.

Tuesday, November 09, 2010

Seychelles pics

I promised you all pics of the Seychelles trip. Here they are.
Part of the resort, Constance Ephelia.

The villa we stayed in, on the ground floor. Each villa has two units.

The pool at the end of the concrete walkway in the above picture.

View from the breakfast area:

The sea is about 100m from the end of the breakfast area and the pathway.
Lunch and lunch buffet. Lucina made a kick arse spaghetti!

The pool flowing throughout the main buildings, bars and restaurant areas

The beach at the resort, note the clean blue and white colours.
One of the days we took a ferry 44kms across from Mahe to Praslin Island, the only natural spot in the world where the coco de mer is grown naturally. The coco de mer is the largest seed in the world and when sailors saw the seed pod floating by in the ocean, dubbed it the coconut from the sea. The leaves of the tree are bigger than a man and until recently was used to roof buildings.

Mahe harbour, on the ferry to Praslin.

Praslin Island

The harbour

The coco de mer. As it resembles a woman's pelvic area, it was considered a fertility symbol by the islanders.

The leaves of the palm.
We had lunch at a small restaurant/gallery in Baie St Anne. Smorgasboard of curries, fresh and grilled vegetables, salads, red snapper.

Our table, about 40m - 50m from the sea.
Anse Lazio, the most famous beach on Praslin where we swam before having lunch.

We took a drive up to the hill where the Presidential Villa of the resort is to take some photos. We kept seeing what I thought were big birds but which our guide said were fruit bats, a local delicacy.

Friday, November 05, 2010

How kids rate restaurants

Hey there Mister Manager of the local Mimmos. I understand that this afternoon you were extremely busy what with having a large group of about 15 screaming girls sitting outside with about the same number of parents having a birthday party. However, it might be worth your while to take note of the following :

1. When a girl requests a drink, don't forget it.
2. When a girl's pizza has been made and handed in to be baked, don't throw it away, burn it or otherwise get rid of it.
3. When a girl requests new dough and filling for her pizza, don't ignore her request.
4. Treat your staff with a bit more dignity.
5. Don't go outside to have a smoke while you are supposed to be rebaking the remade pizza. Girls notice that sort of thing.

C was invited out to a make your own pizza party at the local Mimmos today. The waiter forgot to bring her Coke Zero three times, the manager "lost" her pizza and then remade it for her (not the point of the party so the remade pizza is now sitting in it's take out box on top of my stove). He also ignored her request for dough to remake her pizza with the toppings she wanted, choosing to suck on a cancer stick instead. Then he proceeded to chase his other waiters around ordering them to hurry up he wants to make money.

I never saw any of this as J and I were enjoying a milkshake at the Wimpy. She rated them 2 stars on their restaurant guide (out of 5 stars). A list that she and J call their "Why we hate restaurants" guide.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Guess where I am?

Yesterday I got onto a charter flight and flew a couple of hours up north...across a stretch of ocean...over the Seychelles.

Last night we had dinner at Adam & Eve in the Constance Ephelia resort, this morning we had breakfast in their breakfast area and I have just come back from a half hour of utter relaxing luxury. I had a neck, shoulder and head massage. Jealous? ;) Wait until I post the pics....

I could live here all year round. It is gorgeous, the staff are friendly and helpful...See you all again next week. Sometime. Maybe.....:)

Monday, October 18, 2010


So Telkom has this awesome competitive brand new product on the market - the 8ta brand. They had a huge launch party last Thursday night with live music and all sorts of goodies for invited guests. Guests who, due to the stringent new RICA laws, had to send in all sorts of paperwork so that they could get RICA out of the way before the launch.......

Except they didn't. Now they have cool new phones with some call time but no way to use it yet until they get RICAed, again.

WTG Telkom!

Friday, October 15, 2010

October 15

It's International Infant and Pregnancy Loss day today.

This year, a Wave of Light ceremony is planned across the globe. All you have to do is light a candle at 7pm in whatever time zone you find yourself, and leave it lit for an hour.

This is to commemorate and remember all those parents, mothers, grandparents, sisters, aunts, children who have lost a baby or a pregnancy for a multitude of reasons. And to remember those babies that have died.

My thoughts today are with each and every person who has gone through the pain of losing a pregnancy, losing a baby, losing that dream of a life with a brand new human being. The pain of losing a child stays with you forever, hidden away in your heart, the raw wound getting smaller with each passing year. Until one day you remember without the pain. Light a candle tonight at 7pm and remember.

In my heart, always, Sam.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Most useless gadget?

While puttering around on Facebook this morning I saw an add for this product. Now normally I ignore the crap on the right hand side of my screen on Facebook but the description just intrigued me. It's a sticker you stick onto your chest, between your boobs and your chin, just before going to bed at night. Tomorrow morning you wake up and voila! No more chest wrinkled.

Dude, like, isn't this one of the most useless gadgets out?

Sunday, October 10, 2010


I will preface this post by saying that apart from watching the first Twilight movie, I have not read any of the books nor seen any of the other movies.


According to popular culture, Real Vampires

* have fangs
* are whiter than OMO can wash your whites
* fuck like there's no tomorrow (sex and blood go together like bread and butter)
* are practically immortal
* have an aversion to wooden stakes
* burn when touched by sunlight like a KKK wooden cross doused in petrol at night
* have no conscience
* are dead
* therefore cannot breed

According to Stephanie Meyer, Twilight Vampires

* have really strong teeth
* sparkle like diamonds (redifine bling) when sunlight hits their skin
* are all breathy and sigh like a Victorian virgin on her wedding night
* make boring love
* live at home with mom and dad
* play extreme sports at night
* breed

I don't know about you all but I prefer my vampires in the midst of a blood and sex lust with a killer techno soundtrack ala Kate Beckinsale in Underworld.

Wednesday, October 06, 2010

Difficult discussions

Some mornings J&C like to tackle difficult topics of conversation. This morning, C told me about her little friend whose parents are divorced. Her father hasn't seen her basically since her birth and has no interest in her life or her sister's life. Her mom is a single, unsupported but for friends, mother who works difficult shifts and odd hours. It boggles my mind that a man could have a child but choose to ignore that child so completely.

This in turn led to an answer-question session. Are you and dad getting divorced? What will happen if you do move out of the house? Who will we stay with? Why do you argue? Are you happy? Do you love each other?

As always, I tried answering these tough life questions in a manner that was truthful and didn't sugarcoat problems in the adult world. They mostly understood what I said and how I answered, I hope. Can't wait for the next topic they decide to talk about!

I've been thinking about that little friend all day.

Tuesday, October 05, 2010

Wax on, wax off

I had an early morning torture session appointment to have my nether regions waxed again. While this beautification torture was going on and the thrillingly meditative music was playing, all I could think of was Mr Miyagi telling Daniel-san "Wax on, wax off."

[disclaimer : not the fake wanna-be redo of the classic original starring Will Smith's kid but the one starring Ralph Macchio]

Friday, October 01, 2010

Questions parents dread being asked

C had a playdate yesterday so it was just J and I. I took him with to PnP for some retail therapy. On the way there, he asked how old you have to be to become a grandmother.

Now the two Oumas are both over 60. Himself and I were far too lazy to do the whole get-married-out-of-high-school-and-start-popping-babies-out-right-away thing. We started dating in 1988, got married in 1997 and had J in 2001. A whole 13 years after first meeting. Naturally the Oumas were concerned that 1) my eggs were dying faster than they could ever be impregnated, 2) they would never ever ever get to hold grandchildren and 3) we'd be ancient if and when we ever did procreate. I think at one point the Oumas were so desperate they were willing to forego the usual white wedding just to hold a baby.

Nevertheless, we went on to produce 1 more before calling it quits and closing up the factory.

So, how do you answer that? I thought for a long minute then said that there is no right age to become a grandmother. J persisted. I dodged. Then he changed tactics and asked how old he should be when he has a child. Remember now, this is a 9yo kid who hasn't even noticed there are such creatures as girls. And that those same girls are even remotely interesting in any way other than to play rugby with.

I started by saying that you become a father when you meet someone you love enough to want to live with marry and then a while later you both decide to have a child (silently still debating live with vs marry). He thought for a minute (by this time I was pulling into a parking spot) then asked how you have children. Okay. Where's Himself when I really need him?? Isn't it the father's job to have The Talk with their sons??

He asked again. Loudly. The waiter outside Wimpy turned to look in my direction. I walked past. No way was I stopping there for a quick milkshake and a frank discussion about sex with my 9yo son!

After a few minues J asked again. I really tried to dodge the question this time but nope. He wanted to know. So I asked if he knew what sex was.

Yes, he says, that's when a male and female mate with each other.

Oookay. (Been watching a few too many Animal Planet shows.)

So then the mommy carries the baby in her stomach.

Right. Yes.

So how old do you have to be to put the baby in the mommy's stomach?

Um. Never Oh 25?

That's old.

Yes my boy, that's real old.

How old was dad?


Wow, that's like really old.

Yes my boy, that's really old.

So do I have to be that age too?

No my boy, you can be a dad at any age you feel ready.

Oh. Okay. Can I have some chips please?

Thursday, September 30, 2010

When you are a 40 year old woman

they see you coming. They see you coming from faaaaar away.

Had my annual pap smear today (she's using a brand new plastic speculum thingy and a "new technology" swab thingy). When she realised I was almost 41, she smirked....then said "There's your referral for your annual mammogram. Once a year from now on please, once you turn 40 you have to go every year. It's preventative you see."

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

How to hug a baby

Step one - find a baby.

Step two - sniff object's butt to verify it is indeed a baby.

Step three - flatten the baby before beginning the hugging process.

Step four - slide paws around baby and prepare for closeup.

Step five - once human arrives with camera, execute the patented hug, smile, lean move to achieve maximum photo quality.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Rhino and Lion park

We took J&C to the Rhino and Lion Park situated in the Cradle of Humankind on Saturday morning. We'd heard the lions were rather large and wanted to see them up close. While I fully support what the lion park is doing by breeding rare white lions and wild dogs in captivity (and hopefully releasing them into the wild), the experience felt canned. You know, like the canned lion hunting we read about in the news (if you are sensitive to unnecessary brutality, don't watch the canned lion hunt video clip).

The Wonder Cave
You walk down 87 steps, climb into a rickety lift which takes you 60m underground.

The lift coming down from the entrance.

Praying Mary

The Mushroom which is approximately 2.5 billion years old

Big Cats :

At the entrance to the animal creche is a closed off touchy feely enclosed area where for R30 (about $5) you get to spend 5 minutes playing with a cub. The one on the ground being petted is about 8 months old. One of the main reasons we took J&C was to let C pet a lion cub. She's been talking about doing it since last September when we were at Zebula. This little one though was far too active for me to feel comfortable letting her go in. Hell I didn't even want to go in when the keepers all rushed up to pull him off a woman's foot.

Odi the leopard

One of the animal trainers told us that he gets miffed because he gets few visitors. His enclosure is way across the other side of the animal enclosures. She told us to call to him and he might be bored enough to come to the fence. After a few minutes spent calling to no avail, an ex employee (and Odi's trainer once) stopped by for a visit. Odi immediately sprang up and stalked / ran to the fence when he heard his name being called. Then he stalked the man up and down the length of the enclosure. At one point he rubbed his head up against the gate and then got pissed because the man wasn't really touching him. When he growled, something in the primal part of my brain said oh shit!

A half grown cub

At 1pm on Wednesdays, Saturdays and public holidays the lions are fed. We checked out the feeding area before going to the caves...the cow carcass from earlier in the week.

One of the two white lions walked between the vehicles circling the clearing where the pride was eating. Not something you want to come across in the wild, less than 2m from your window out of nowhere.

A cub tried to follow a female through the reeds to the watering hole just behind where all the cars were standing. Check out the blood soaked face.

The tigers
The one time I saw a tiger was at The Farm Inn a few years ago. It was hiding behind some bushes in a large enclosure and we didn't get too close. These 3 were right up against the fence. Huge beautiful monsters (I'm reading the Sookie Stackhouse books right now. I could not imagine walking amongst the wereanimals without shitting myself after seeing these 3.)

On the way out, we saw 2 rather large rhinos. This is what poachers kill for.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Why I like Defy

Most South African households at one time or another have had a Defy home appliance. Their products (the Gemini range) are mid range in price so is affordable without costing your soul (well maybe their combo gas / electric stainless steel contraption might be a devil's price, which I might be willing to contemplate paying, or sell the kids for the money :) ).

Their after service care is exceptional (Defy and their agents). As I should know. Because today, their Repair Dude came out to fix the door on my front loader. The door with the plastic handle that somehow or other I broke. Don't ask how I did it, I still don't know. Like I told Himself, I just opened the door up and something fell out, it wasn't the clothes I had just washed. R560 later my door is fixed and I can continue on my merry way washing clothes. Until it breaks again.

Repair Dude had a look at the oven too. The one whose door can't close properly. Ja he says, all we do is move this out the way, turn the door around and fix it to that side so you can use it again. It just opens from the wrong side. Oh and the knobs on the hob, those they have thousands of in stock, doesn't matter what model your hob is because one size truly does fit all.

Now I just have to wait for a quote to fix the door on the oven.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Work functions

I enjoy watching people. It's a major hobby whenever I am out and about. So at Himself's work function on Wednesday night, I had ample opportunity to people watch. Until I found someone who is English, lives in Cape Town and was super easy to talk to. They are such rare creatures in Pretoria.

Until that point, I was sort of enjoying myself. I'd had a glass of good wine and the pre dinner snacks were really tasty (By Word of Mouth - awesome caterers!). I had more in common with the wait staff than the work staff but hey, beggers can't be choosers right? Except maybe on occasions like this.

Topics of conversation amongst the women revolved around what's the latest cosmetic surgery going, what the maid at home is doing tonight (looking after my kids doll! And I didn't even have to pay her extra!), to everyday mundane things like how do you cope with the school traffic, most of which really didn't appeal to me. My wine, which had nothing to say, was more interesting.

The highlight of the night, meeting a certain famous rugby player who scored that magnificent drop kick that assured South Africa of the win in that world cup. I remember him for other reasons though. I remember him trotting out on the Newlands fields on many occasions playing for Western Province.

Himself and I staggered home at 1am, not because we'd had loads to drink. Oh no, it was more a case of when you are over 40, you should really be getting to bed at 9pm and not staying out past your bedtime. Thursday was a killer. Friday I am starting to recover.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

The trust that some parents have

I could be a hideous serial killer ala Dexter Morgan. I could be the ringleader of a child smuggling ring. I could be plain weird. Yet parents of a child I have never met think it's ok to leave their child with me or better yet, have me collect their child at daycare and bring her home to play with C. I could never do that, implicitly trust someone with my child that I have never met.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Dressing up

Anyone who knows me irl knows that I hate clothes shopping. I am not a size zero model with legs up to FSM knows where, that I have no clue about taupe going with neon orange or that the brand new black is actually hot pink.

Rather, I spend my days in tracksuit pants, takkies (sneakers to my American friends), tshirts and various other states of only dress like this if you truly don't give a shit. And normally I don't give a shit.

Until now.

Himself has been invited to a fairly formal work function, one where the tannies who go, dress to kill with enough make up on to keep most parts of Africa covered in base for years to come. And then there's me....minimal make up, hair done at the home "salon", no nails to speak of, someone who only recently discovered the joy that is pubic waxing....a distinct aversion to anything with fashion in it's name. I am the ultimate make over slob for anyone out there who might be considering it. (Email me, we can set up a time :).)

For a few days now I have been panicking. Firstly because my go to wardrobe item (a timeless floor length black skirt) seems to have shrunk on me. Secondly, I've been popping into all the shops hoping against hope that they carry my size (tripple XL) in the newest range just imported from those Chinese sweatshops. I wonder if anyone has ever thought to educate the Chinese in western sizes? I mean really, an adult small wouldn't even fit C and she's 7 years old.

While trawling through the mall this morning I spotted a newish boutique shop. You know the one where all the fat chicks go to oohing and aaahing over the flimsy sexy looking things that look so good on that size below zero model? Where you just know the minute you walk in that they don't have your size and probably never would? That one. I really thought they wouldn't have anything that I could possibly wear. but I was wrong.

I think my black pants and black sorta heely shoes will go really well with this don't you?

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Karma's a bitch

In Feb, I posted about a florist that stuffed up on a delivery to Big C.

Today, I happened to drive by the little centre where she has her shop. It's closed. And for sale. :)

I don't normally get all gleeful and happy when someone's life is probably falling apart but in this instance I think I am very justified.

Ain't Karma a bitch? :)

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Becoming a legal person again (according to the government)

When you have your life stolen and have to replace things like ID documents, you come face to face with the bureaucracy that is the department of Home Affairs.

When we were hijacked, my handbag containing my drivers licence, ID book, bank cards, cellphone and various other things was under the drivers seat. Of course that was cleared out of the car long before the cops found it, all having to be replaced at some point.

The bank cards were easy, the drivers licence is going to be a pain in the arse and the ID book maybe just as bad or so I thought.

Well, guess what? It wasn't. I went in on the 29th of July (ja please don't lecture me about the length of time between the hijacking and actually going in to apply for a new ID document, I'm a lazy sod) and received an sms (Seriously! An sms! Who'd have thunk Home Affairs actually used 21st century technology??) last Thursday to come and collect it. This morning I pulled into the parking spot the car guard indicated, stood in the queue for about 30 minutes and walked out an hour later the proud owner of a brand spanking new ID book (the photo is horrific). (No I am not sharing it here.)

Monday, September 13, 2010


C puked huge amounts in the parking lot at Irene Dairy yesterday. Poor kid. When she came home she looked paler than a red head with see through skin, if you can believe that.

I hosed her down in the shower (there's nothing worse than that sour puke smell especially when they've had milk), made her some really sweet rooibos tea and sat with her for a bit. Then Himself, J and I had lunch. She wasn't up to it, her tummy was sore and she didn't look too pink in the face either. We spent the afternoon laying in bed with me alternating between rubbing her belly softly and reading Matilda to her (with me wishing I could get back to my Sookie Stackhouse books), with her moaning in pain and puking. At 6pm she fell asleep finally. By 6 30pm she was awake again moaning and rolling around.

When the kids are sick, Himself usually lets the healthy one sleep in our bed with him while I sleep in the other bed with the sicko. I should know better. I have not had much sleep. C has this ability unique to children when they sleep. They know exactly which part of the adult human body is most vulnerable to a hand or a leg coming out of nowhere and landing with force.

Of course, she was up at 5 and ready to go to school. I feel like I've been out partying all night and swallowed a bottle of E.

Thursday, September 09, 2010

Be happy in the moment

There's nothing better than being truly happy in the moment. I've been angrier more often than I have been happier over the last few months and this morning I had a major mood shift.

It helps to be baking muffins while listening to weird and wonderful remixes and original songs at full volume and dancing around like a nutter.

I'm not so sure the neighbours would agree but WTF :)

Tuesday, September 07, 2010

Apparently I am a good mother

How to rock as a mother :

1 - pay for drama lesson
2 - tell daughter she is getting a drama lesson
3 - let her stay up for an hour longer due to said drama lesson
4 - feed her a burger (with no sign of salad)
5 - let her sleep in the next morning

I rock. C said, so it shall be.

Monday, September 06, 2010

Bonus Monday

Spider tales

I lived in Cape Town all my life until we moved to Insanity Pretoria a couple of years ago. Up until that point, a daddy long legs was about the biggest spider I ever had to deal with.

It was the end of September when we moved in and by the first week of October that year I was ready to move back home. Not because of the people, or the culture. No. Because of the spiders. Rain spiders to be specific.

Picture this.....

A quiet morning....water running.....a shower......water stops....a terrified scream and mad footsteps dashing down the passage.....a wet naked body running.....and behind it, this freaking huge mutha spider comes running.......

I swear the thing was going to attack. It jumped from the ceiling and tried to catch me. I swear! Really.

In the 6 years since, I've been lucky enough to see them from a distance while Himself nukes them and then nukes them some more.

I've watched as someone else destroys the nests outside my bedroom window. There is no fraking way that I will ever touch those jumbo webby nests of pure malevalent evil. No way!

Then last night.....the house alarm started screaming because Himself likes to play with the remote in his pocket (I have a don't ask don't tell policy on that). My cellphone was charging next to the microwave and as I went to pick it up to answer the security company, I saw a brown creature sitting on the cupboard door looking at me. It's evil little eyes daring me to touch my phone. Himself, just as shit scared (he screams like a girl when they run over his hand), grabbed the broom and tried to brush it down off the cupboard door. So what does the evil creature do? It jumps onto the counter and crawls down into the cupboard where I keep all my plastic junk.

Himself grabbed the Doom canister and started spraying like a demented creature into the cupboard.

This morning I cautiously opened the door with the broom handle.

Friday, September 03, 2010

A conversation overheard...

At the gym this week the ladies have been trying to be inventive. Out with the ABBA remixed rubbish and in with Club Anthems remixed cds. Also rubbish.

Between gasping for breath and trying not to flood the place with sweat...

Old Lady : Oh this is something new.

Middle Aged Lady : The music?

Old Lady : Yes. I must say I don't like it.

Middle Aged Lady : Yes, I agree. It's not good music.

Old Lady : In my day, we could actually sing along to the music.

Middle Aged Lady : In my day we listened to U2. (U2 song playing in background with a hard beat to it). We didn't listen to this rubbish. I don't even know what this song is! (so much for being a U2 fan...)

Tuesday, August 31, 2010


At the ripe old age of 40 I have finely found out what it feels like to have your pubic hair removed by hot wax.


Ja, it was sore. Then she did my eyebrows.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

I hate eating out

Or so says a survey of 2000 women in the UK by a slimming pill company.

According to the article :

- 1000 felt guilty

- 500 avoided it altogether

- 1200 worry that they will cave to temptation

- 600 worry they will end up eating much more than they should because the portions are so much larger

- 66 worry about the lack of nutritional info

- 1000 made up for the overconsumption of calories by cutting down the rest of the week

- 1000 won't eat Chinese or Indian because they fear the food has a high fat content

- 1400 don't eat fish and chips because it's unhealthy

I'd have had more respect for the figures if a medical group not involved in research, or out to make a profit, had anything to do with this "poll". A slimming pill company? Wonder how much info the women partaking in the poll received about a miracle cure for obesity?

Monday, August 23, 2010

WTF is up with Woolworths?

I have been a client of Woolworths since early 1997. In that time I am very sure that there has been a month or five where I have forgotten to pay my account or paid it a few days late. In the 13 years I have had the account, my credit limit has been increased largely due to my payment history. My very good payment history. My current credit limit is scary high, one that I refuse to make use of.

So why then, today at 8.15am, did the credit call centre deem it necessary to call me, reminding me that I forgot to pay last month's installment (oops! R125) and then insisting on a date of payment? I said I forgot, I'd pay it by the end of this month but no, apparently that is not good enough for Woolworths. They insist you tell them the exact date you will be paying, else you are responsible for collection fees on any outstanding amounts. WTF!

This is the first time I can remember ever getting a call from their credit call centre because I have failed to pay my account. Really, am I just taking it way too personally or should they even have called me?

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Weird sandwiches

This morning I was in the mood for a good old fashioned roasted something lunch (organic grain fed chicken baking in the oven as I type this) with cabbage. Normally I steam chunks of cabbage with potatoe quarters and thick sliced carrots but I wanted to do something different. After googling cabbage recipes, I found this one, a smear of peanut butter, a thick chunk of fresh uncooked green cabbage and sliced carrots on brown bread. And here I thought my favourite fish paste with apricot jam on brown bread was weird.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Wild animals do roam the streest in Africa!

I'm often asked the weirdest questions when people from other countries hear I live in South Africa.

Most questions are about the wildlife, the houses we live in and the suburbs. The most common questions are usually about whether the wild animals roam the streets freely, especially lions. Do we live in mud huts? Do we have electricity (this one floors me every time)? And mindbogglingly, can they pet the lions in the streets?

Recently I told a foreigner that we had spent a few days in the Kruger Park. She was over the moon excited and bombarded me with questions about the whole experience.

A few that stood out : If it was possible to get out of your car (after asking if we had cars) and touch the animals like you would in a petting zoo (ja sure you can, just don't expect to come out of the experience with your life intact). Again with the do wild animals walk around in the street we lived in? How do we get around from place to place? (the elephants are in for resoling their feet).

A few days after our email exchange, I sent her the link to a story that made the front page two days running. Panjo, an 18 month old hand reared tiger, had escaped out of the bakkie (ute, utility vehicle, SUV, double cab) of his owner one night and was missing for three days not very far from where we live.

Then on Sunday, a crocodile was caught in a gated and fenced housing estate not far from where we live.

I suppose that now I cannot lie when people ask if the wildlife roam the streets.

Monday, August 16, 2010

A review : My Sister's Keeper

I read Jodi Picoult's book about 3 years ago, a present from Other C for my birthday that year. While I like reading about controversial subject matter, I find Ms Picoult's books rather tame fodder in how sometimes there isn't a good enough conclusion, she tackles a subject but stops short of going for the kill.

Last night, MNET showed the movie version of the book as it's Sunday night movie.

As Hollywood likes to tear apart a book, the story in the movie differs quite substantially from the book itself which I found rather distracting. The story tackles the controversial subject of designer babies as spare parts for a sick child.

In this case, the child in question has a cancer of the blood. Her younger sister (in the book she is 13 and in the movie she is 11) is designed and born to be a walking body parts replacement for her. Until they want her to donate a kidney. Then she sues her parents to become medically emancipated from them. In the book at the end, she wins her case but dies in a car accident and her lawyer, who has power of attorney, authorises the removal of her organs for her dying sister.

In the movie, her sister is the driving force behind the court case because she wants to die, she is ready to die. The film ends with her dying, the younger sister winning her case and not having to donate a kidney and going on to live out her life.

Another large departure from the book is that the brother, who is a juvenile delinquent who likes to burn things (his father, a fireman, taught him a thing or two), becomes a dyslexic artist.

While the movie showed the emotion behind the designer babies bred as spare parts angle much better than the book did, I have to say it was overly disappointing as the ending totally negates any good or bad points made around the debate.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010


Damn but it's cold right now!

After a few days of wonderfully warm winter weather, it's like someone turned off the sun and moved the Arctic here! My joints are so sore and stiff and it's already after 10am.

Yesterday we were running around in tshirts and shorts, today I look like the Michelin man. And I am still cold.

Friday, August 06, 2010

Does this make me the Anti-Christ?

This morning I made myself some Earl Grey tea, switched on my monitor and opened Outlook. At the bottom right hand corner the ticker counting down the number of email messages being downloaded said RECEIVING 1 OF 3 MESSAGES 34KB OF 666KB.........

Tuesday, August 03, 2010

Breasts and the model's brain size

It's breastfeeding week time, from 1 - 7 August. Which is a good thing. It promotoes a great source of nutrition for your baby, you can eat mostly whatever normal amounts of food you want without gaining weight while your child sucks everything right out of your body and it keeps the little one healthy too. No one is arguing the point that breast is best under the right conditions. And really I most certainly don't care what you feed your baby as long as your baby gets food and doesn't starve. But when people spout off silly things without thinking, it makes me think that sometimes, the lights aren't on all the time iykwim?

Giselle Bundchen proves, sometimes, that a model's breast size directely correlates with her brain size. Miss Bundchen has a handful, quite a nice handful, but that doesn't bode well for her brain. Especially when she says that a global law forcing women to breastfeed for 6 months should be considered. Really. Read it here.

Wow. How to go about in support of women.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Moby Dick lives again in Cape Town

A couple of days ago a scene reminiscent of Mellville's Moby Dick played itself out in Table Bay harbour. Two people took their yacht, the Intrepid, out for a spin in the harbour when a whale breached itself a few times before coming to land on the deck of their yacht. No one was hurt.

Friday, July 16, 2010

Missing home

I was sitting behind a Jeep yesterday in traffic when it struck me how completely different the composition of the traffic can be between Cape Town and Pretoria.

I grew up near Milnerton / Tableview where the beach was a 5 minute drive from home. Cars were mostly rusted junkheaps from all the saltwater, older cars that kids would inherit from their parents. Newer cars stood out like a sore thumb. Here it's all about shiny and new. My little 13yo Polo sometimes looks out of place in the school parking lot amongst all the Audis, Mercs and BMs, SUVs. Everyone is always in a rush to get somewhere and nobody smiles.

I drive with the music blaring singing away in a car that looks like it belongs at the beach. For the first time in a long time I really missed home.

Friday, July 02, 2010

The Mommy Wars

I am a mother. My first priority is to raise my children to be good, conscientious little people who grow up to be compassionate passionate empathic adults, to make sure they have a good basic grounding to build on.

My first priority is not to compete with you so that I can have bragging rights to whose parenting method is the best.

My first priority is not to consistently try and outdo you whenever you feel slighted because my kid has joined some society or outside sport or the library.

My first priority is not to dress my kids in designer brands because you deem everything else cheap rubbish.

My first priority is not to be that mom who always manages to embarrass her child because she's competing fiercely for title of Mom of the Year yet manages to neglect the tiniest need of said child.

Friday, June 25, 2010

The Kruger

Last Friday Himself, J&C and I piled into our car at 4am and took a short 5 hour drive to the Oliphants camp in the Kruger Park. We spent the first night there and two nights at Skukuza.