Monthly Archives: February 2012

The Purple Guava


If you’re a bashful sort of chap or person then perhaps you shouldn’t continue reading.

I’m suffering from the worst persistent case of “Bottle Brush Syndrome” known to woman at the moment. Like a persistent itch, itch, itch, itch. I’ve tried everything.

In fact I’m so desperate I might take a bottle of Gention Violet and splash and paint it on my nether regions. I think a Purple Guava will  spice things up….

fok it…itch…. itch…. itch…..


The Help


I watched The Help last night on Box Office. Yes, I’ve read the book. Such an excellent movie. It made me cry. I cried in empathy for those black women who brought up other people’s kids(touched a nerve), who cooked and cleaned and had to put up with bollocks everyday of their lives. For the woman who stole a ring to send her twins to college after being refused a loan.

We can’t comprehend what others go through until we’ve stood in their shoes.

The Help is relevant in our South African society. And we’re all guilty.

Smile and wave………..


I’m trying really hard to be someone that uplifts others. Everyday I try. Really hard. I bite my tongue very often. If I retaliate, you must know, that you have pissed me off once too often.

It’s so easy to knock someone down to size or put them in their place or give them the correct answer, when you know they’re lying or speaking utter bollocks. So for the moment I nod and agree but inside I’m thinking: ” what an utter doos.” or “what an utter prat” or “you lying cow, that’s not what you said to me last month!”. I’ve decided that I’ll work on this mind control of negative thoughts later. For the moment, I have to deal with the everyday bulldust that people spew constantly from their mouths.

When you lie…do you think people actually believe you? Seriously? Come on now….No-one does. We all nod and agree, but inside we’re thinking:’What a tosser!”

But for the most part, people tell the truth. sometimes too much. For example when sharing with a dear friend that I was thinking of having a third, she replied” Yes, even though you have more chance of having a child with abnormalities, you must still do it.”

Really? You have the balls to say something like that to my face? Really?

Who would be so stupid. It’s just that sometimes people are a little insecure and want to be seen as knowledgeable, so they sprout-forth “pearlers” of wisdom! When in fact, the real truth, I retorted is that, since we’ve had Molly genetically tested we have less chance than most people.

It’s too late now…coz they’ve sown the little seed of doubt in my mind. It’s schmokkling with my brain now.

Oi, people make me tired jong. I’m weary from them all. Some people are not unlike the ‘Death Eaters’ in Harry Potter novels. Or the “Omoebe’s” in Bridget Jones’ novel. Sucking the life out of me.

I think I must go back to my lady in the city and have another brush up 1 hour chat session, to refresh me on my coping mechanisms.

To remind me to smile and wave….

Suzy Skinerbek………….


Seriously, John is SO annoying and that is why I need my girlfriends to sit and bitch to. I tried to moan to him about last night and have a bit of a skiner(gossip) and he gets all quiet and disapproving. SO annoying. A girl would um and ah and nod at all the right places in the conversation. My friends wouldn’t judge at all and would understand that it’s anger of the moment and would think NOTHING of me speaking to the alleged person, as if nothing was wrong. Yes, you may say it’s too faced. I just say it’s a vent and a rant and rave about a particular incident.

If you live on a farm and get thrown constantly with a mixed bunch of women and don’t ever get annoyed, then you must be brain-dead. The worst is when someone arrives at a function in a bad mood. It filters through to the rest of us and really causes shite.

People sometimes drain me. And when John doesn’t want to be my “cat scratching post”, well then SHAME ON HIM! 

The cheek of it….



The Sex Toys Drawer…..


Aidan has chosen our Sex Toys drawer to put his art supplies in. All we have in our Sex Toys drawer is a tube of KY Jelly. But that’s not the point, there are probably about 30 different drawers in this house and he has chosen that particular one.

It doesn’t matter that there’s only a tube of KY jelly in the drawer. It’s just that he’s invaded our turf. These kids, whom I love and adore, have filtered in and invaded every part of our lives. There are not many days I can mention when I don’t step on a piece of lego, which anyone will tell you is excruciating. Molly strews her horses everywhere. Aidan constructs makeshift tents and houses on every possible surface and corner.

All I want is my own private Sex Toys Drawer without any little tosser sticking their paw into! A drawer that is only for John and I and a lonely tube of KY jelly. Is that too much to fracking ask?

The company I keep….


I have 4 Xhosa ladies that work for me. Thembisa, also known as Tiffa, in the house and kitchen. There’s Nonkoliseko, an awesome Grandmother, whose chief job is to look after Molly, coz she’s cerebral palsy. Then there is Noza, who comes twice a week to do the washing and ironing, brasso-ing and polishing silver, washing windows. She is about 6 months pregnant, or as my Dad says, properly up the spout.

Lizzie is my lady in the garden. She is fairly oldish, comes in when she feels like it, 100% old school and barely speaks English, she rattles off in Xhosa and has the kindness and soul of a saint.A few days after my father-in-law died, John and I arrived home to find Lizzie huddled against the wall at about 7:30pm at night, in mid winter. When we asked why she was still here, she replied that she didn’t want to leave John’s mom on her own. My mom-in-law didn’t even know that she was still there. But that’s how we are on the farms. Generations growing up together. Lizzie’s parents and grandparents growing up in this area, watching John grow up in front of them playing with their kids. It’s family in every sense of the word.

Now, having all these helpers is awesome. I leave in the morning to go to work or do the school run and arrive home to a clean house and a meal of reis, vleis and aartappels on the table. But it also comes with its side shows.

 For example buying bloody Boxer tobacco. Lizzie and Nonkoliseko, whom we affectionately call Seko, get the heebie jeebies if their tobacco runs out. So very few town runs are made without the request of Tobacco. It’s so annoying sometimes because not every shop sells it and one can only buy it at the cigarette counter, where there is invariably a queue. So with two kids clinging or running wild I have to stand in the bloody queue for tobacco. It’s not worth, not getting it. You know that saying, Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned? Well, it was invented with Xhosa women in mind. The cold shoulder, sulking and pure punishment is NOT worth it!

Seko, is a special person. I firmly believe that divine intervention sent her to us to look after Molly. She has 6 kids. 3 normal, 1 that walks on his hands and feet, 1 cerebral palsy and 1 child who died when he was young. She knows shit. She’s seen bad things and she JUST GETS ON WITH IT! Always has a smile on her face. In fact I think that, had she been born in different circumstances, she would probably be a CEO of a company. She has Mandela’s sunny, yet pragmatic disposition. I’ve told her, that she may never leave us. She finds this very funny and laughs her head off.

It’s important to respect each other on a farm. Read The Poisonwood Bible if you haven’t already. You know…… respect each others cultures and beliefs. At the end of the day I am the boss’ wife, but respect goes a long way. And a Xhosa woman has never-ending strength and abilities. She loves her children, she laughs a lot and she loves her family. There’s no sense of humour like that of a Xhosa woman….


Should I have another child?


okee dokes.

I want another child but I’m terrified I have another disabled child. (because of the financial and social fatigue of it all)

Here is a poll:

Should I have another child making it a total of three kids, Aidan, Molly and number 3?