Monthly Archives: August 2012

Car Guards and other stories…..

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Today a friend of mine gave change to a Car Guard who defiantly threw it on the ground claiming it wasn’t enough? What the heck is that? I’m confused here, because theoretically speaking, we don’t owe a Car Guard anything.

How do you feel about giving money to a Car Guard. Frankly, I give money to a Car Guard because I’m financially comfortable.

So I give change because perhaps, he may have helped me with my groceries, or showed me a parking, or just plain old lurked about. I’m sick to death of feeling guilty  if I don’t give money to a car Guard that is doer en gone on the other side of the Car park chatting with the other car guards and then when he sees my reverse lights come on, rushes across the parking lot to receive his token of doing what? Bugger all, that’s what!

I’m generalizing, I know, because some are helpful, but in all honesty, 95% are NOT!

I’ll be able to find a parking on my own. I’ll be able to carry and pack my  car on my own. You see, they do it in England, the States and other countries all the time.

So while I understand that being a Car Guard is in a sense being an entrepreneur, it’s actually not. It’s sitting or standing in a car park watching cars that have built-in alarms, and waiting for a hand out from someone who has worked their backside off for those few pennies. Pennies that are only handed over because of guilt at being financially independent and able to enjoy a certain standard of living.

I’d love to know how many families are subsidised from Car Guards. Maybe it’ll make me feel a little better….

The fat circle of friends………

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Don’t you hate those friends that want you fat? They love you being fat to make them feel better about themselves.

ENOUGH! ENOUGH NOW!

I will no longer be:

  •  the one that eats cake to make you feel less guilty about the second slice of cake you’re tucking into.
  • the friend with fat legs that makes you feel thinner
  • the one to moan to about breaking the diet

I will be:

  • watching what I eat
  • dress as if I’m all that and more…
  • unavailable for snacks and binges

Now, fk off and let me starve in peace…

I will not be bullied….

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Am dying to write an unedited blog post about all the fuckwits I’m surrounded with at the moment. Serious fuckwits. Eish it’s tough keeping one’s big trap shut. I don’t know who reads this blog, so I have to remain restrained to some degree.

It blows my mind how people become Bully’s if you don’t agree with them or bow down to what they want.

News Flash Fucker: I WILL NOT BE BULLIED

At the moment I’m being bullied by someone very close to me. I don’t want to kow tow to their logic. Bullshit logic. And all it ever feels like, is me giving in and my kids being pushed to the back burner again.

Don’t you hate it, when someone does a kind deed for you and then it’s thrown in your face constantly, with them reminding you of their generosity. (never mind that you’ve probably done a lot more than them.)

I know that this blog post is probably annoying, as I’m not naming names…but c’mon seriously….

Countess Kaz as the passionate Marianne Dashwood….

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We are having the most magnificent Hot Day in the middle of winter? Strange but true.

Feeling pap today and I asked Lizzie and Tiffa to bring around my lounger from around the pool to my front Verandah. Here I sit, covered in a tartan knee rug surveying my garden and the kids playing in the sun. The tartan knee rug is a prop in my little bit of theatrics. It’s the emotional and tragic way I feel today.

I feel like the passionately tragic, convalescing Marianne Dashwood, in Sense and Sensibility. Since I’ve always felt deep in my heart that if anyone should play my life story it could only be Kate Winslet. Simply because, when I was thinner 14 years ago, someone said I reminded them of Kate Winslet in Hideous Kinky. The fact she didn’t look her best in that film, don any makeup and acted as a hippy, did not put me off one bit. All I heard was Kate Winslet resonate through the crevices of my brain. And I’ve clung to it all these years. It’s mine and no-one can take it away from me. No-one.

So I plan to lie delicately on the cast aluminium lounger, Victoriano Style, arm spread across my face shielding me from the sun. Awaiting my honourable Colonel Brandon (John, my Husband), to come home for his Elevenses…..

Thoughtful Thursday………..

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This week has seen me laid up, bene in die lug, with Glandular Fever.

It’s been horrid on the one hand to be sick, but given me time to reflect on the other hand. Time to step back. Get off the treadmill a little. Eat instant packets of Lite Creamy Veg Soup. It’s all I could handle. (and jelly)

So I’m sitting in bed and I’m looking out of my window, which takes up a whole wall. There’s also a door that leads outside to a little verandah. The door is bliss in summer and sometimes we sleep with the trellidor locked and the door open just to let the air flow in. From my bed I can see right into the valley. Hills and mountains with Aloes and Thorn Trees. It’s a wet morning, overcast. The grass is damp. I can feel Spring lurking just around the corner. To my left are two Bottle Brush Trees. The birds adore Bottle Brushes. And I’m letting it all seep in. The Bougainvillea to my right, the stunning valley view and the twittering birds. I’m just writing, not worried about being witty, or clever, or grammatically correct.

There’s a woman in Church. She’s in her seventies. She suffers from Parkinson’s. Everyday she endures pain that neither you nor I would understand. She handles it with such aplomb. She never moans, she never gets irritable. and it’s her that I remember today. A woman of great courage and integrity. Always full of smiles and jokes and such a source of encouragement to me and my Molls. So B, I know you’re in constant pain, and I just think you’re an inspiration. Always taking it on with a smile like that. God sees you, B. God sees you.

It’s been almost a year since I started this blog and I thought that by now I would reflect a certain pattern of thought.

I mean…as a Mommy blogger, an inspirational blogger, a cooking blogger, whatever. But it hasn’t reflected one constant thing. But if I look at myself, I’m a bit like that. I’m constantly changing, ever-changing, growing. Today I’m Countess von Liebenhagen(not my surname, just a name I read somewhere once) tomorrow I’m Sexy K, next week I’m Mama k. I like to shift and change. although the essence of me is always constant. Maybe in my heart I rebel a little. 

So here’s to all the ordinary citizens around us, that serve as reminders of things we can be grateful for, who we can become, what we can achieve….

A Mom and 3 Daughters

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an email between us 3 sisters and mom. first one sent by my older sister.

Hi girls

 Just to let you all know I went for my first mammogram today. Was actually painless (not sure if it was the myprodrol i took 10 minutes before).  The Dr told me ladies are going from age 35 these days and not 50 like in the past.  So sisters go book your mammogram appointment.

I actually went for a Bone Density examination (I think I may have arthritis – thanks Mom), but she confirmed i’m to young for the BD test and suggested I go to my GP who would refer me to the correct Dr. 

Chat soon

D

My reply:

Biaaaatches…

Every November I go through some “Anxiety Related Disease”. November was when Molls was diagnosed. A few years ago I was convinced I had breast cancer, so I had a mammogram. All fine. Not pleasant to have ones bosoms squashed though. Especially 44 DD. Maramachungas!

I have a Glandular Fever relapse at the moment. Bloody sick. My glands look like I swallowed two tennis balls and I have such a high temp that Tiffa is changing the sheets twice a day with all the perspiring. Bloody sore. Anyway doctor given me meds. I asked him for meds that make me sleepy. I don’t look a gift horse in the mouth to block out John and the kids. In fact, I’ve just swallowed three pills and for a brief second, S and Mom flashed before my very eyes. They would have been proud!!!!

The weather is miserable today and I’m tired of being in bed. But I’ve learnt with experience, it’s the best place to be to recuperate quickly. I’m even missing bookclub this afternoon. 😦 : and I love bookclub. Even though we only remember about the books as we are leaving, they’re a nice bunch of girls and they make me laugh.

Well, off to fetch Aidan from school, even though I’m feverish and ill. (John’s at a bull sale)

Love

Me

P.S. you must know I’m sick if I’m watching Jackalsdans and re-runs of Will and Grace!!

Feeling sick and sorry for myself….

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At the moment, I’m in the mood to just sit back, reflect and be a spectator.

John and I have been very busy of late. We have had visitors every weekend and as much as we enjoy people, it becomes exhausting. The eating is getting to me more than the people. That obligatory G&T, glass of red, rich dinners, snacks and puddings.

My liver is screaming and I can’t anymore. It’s all to much for me. Give me lettuce, a little bit of chicken and some cucumber.

I’m at the stage when I’m thinking….How on Earth do I jump off this roller coaster ride? When does it all come to a grinding holt?

This weekend we have a 50th on Saturday. A lunch affair at the coast. Kids are being baby sat by a friend. So it’s just John and I for the day, which is bliss. And then it’s Sunday School on Sunday morning. A quiet weekend by all accounts.

On the work front, it’s going very well. Exciting things happening with my sideline of  selling Art.

Today I bunked work and am sitting lolling. I have a sore throat, nasal drip and swollen glands. Thembisa has just put fresh linen on the bed, where I plan to sneak of too and read a book. I’ve finished the latest Spud, which was okay and ready for the next book. Don’t feel like speaking to anyone and/or making any eye contact for at least 3 hours.

chat later