Monthly Archives: August 2013

hang-dog Hilda………


In a truly awe-inspiring, amazingly performed act of self-pity, I asked John last night:

“Why does my life feel so hard. Every time I think I’ve taken two steps forward someone knocks me back? Why? Whyyyyyyyyyyyy? Why meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee?”

This above plea, was accompanied by tears streaming down my cheeks, my hands gesticulating, not dissimilar to Madonna in Evita as she sang Don’t cry for me,  Argentina on the balcony.

Naaaaah, I’m kidding, but I rather enjoyed the picture that I portrayed there for a brief moment.

I look around me, and I’m surrounded by blessings. Like, not just ordinary blessings, but momentous blessings. Blessings that happen daily and of course also being surrounded by  the ordinary blessings too.

I don’t feel I have to announce my blessing on a daily basis to help me appreciate them. It’s just that, well, Molly has a way of getting all the little things in perspective on a daily basis. So I see them regularly (blessings) on a daily basis, thank you very much!

My point is: self-pity is fine for a while, but you can’t mope around for decades.

It’s just that  I know someone that’s moped around for decades and walks around like the world owes her something. And lately well…its been getting on my tits.

So last night, I “why me-ed?” myself for a good 20 minutes to John.

 And that’s fine. Its allowed, but by Jove, please don’t let me carry on for decades.

Please shoot me in my knees. Please slap me open palmed across my face. Please put your hands on my shoulders and shake sense into me.

Just don’t let me have a haaaaaang-dog,  woebegone face etched in misery.

Especially not for 4 decades.

As we sometimes say with fondness in this house:

“Fok voort mense!”



Bad energied bastards…


Lets state the obvious, in life you get different kinds of people.

The worst possible kind of person is what I dont fondly like to call:

  • The Deatheater. (Taken from the Harry Potter novels and elaborated on, by me.)

These are people who you can’t wait to wave goodbye to and watch as they drive down the gravel road, followed by a cloud of dust and your grateful thoughts willing them to fak right off.

The kind of person that is blah. Meaning no energy. No positive energy. Standing close to their worried faces just infuriates you and makes your hand itch to open palm slap them across their sagging cheeks. I feel the urge to slap all that negative energy right the fuck out.

Just felt like venting about the bastards today…..

Boarding school blues….


There are so many things lately that bug me and I stop and think…hmmmm, I should blog about that….and then the inevitable happens and I lose my track and train of thought.

On my heart at the moment is my very homesick little chap. The last two weeks he was very happy and even told me he didn’t miss me that much, only when he went to bed and when he woke up in the morning. But this week has been dismal.

This whole boarding school lark is not for sissies. Especially for an 8-year-old. Aidan asked me the other day, why we were doing this to him. Why were we sending him away when we knew how much it upset him?

Oh my shattered heart! How do you answer that?

Well I chose the frank route and this is what I said: “I said boy, Dad and I love you so much and we want the best for you. There is no school close enough for you to go to. We want you to be with other boys and play sport and have an excellent teacher. You go to an excellent school and you have an amazing teacher. You are so lucky to go ^%$$##@ College.” I never bad mouth teachers.

He listened and nodded.

I said; “Do you understand that?”

Aidan replied “Yes”.

But your heart still bleeds for a homesick little boy. And I lie in bed and I wonder if he’s warm enough. Is he understanding all his work? Are the teachers kind? Is he eating healthily or only eating the “nice” stuff on his plate? Does he understand that sending him away is our only choice and that we still love him?

But the proof is in the pudding. He got a great report. He has friends. I’ve met the hostel teachers and the are lovely and truly have the boys best interests at heart. His class teacher is the COMPLETE BUSINESS, Young and energetic and strict. She understands little boys and from whence they hail from.

So the root is Aidan and the root is me. We have to both get used to not being together.

As I said before this boarding school, lark is not for sissies.



Some bare facts about living on a farm in South Africa:


Some bare facts about living on a farm in South Africa:

  • You have to watch out for snakes like puffadders and ringhals and some of my friends have Cape Cobra’s too. They are VERY aggressive.
  • You can’t pop out to the Kwik Spar or Woolies food store for supper ingredients. Your pantry has to be filled with incidentals and ingredients to whip up a cake or a dinner for 10 at all times.
  • You can’t walk around in your knickers as someone will invariably be walking past the window with a pile of wood and see you.
  • You have to be on the look out for strangers.
  • It’s peaceful
  • There is dust everywhere
  • Everything packs up at once: for example

geyser bursts

tap leaks

shower door comes off its rails

toilet blocks(this will ONLY happen when you about to greet a carload of visitors or when everyone has sat down to tea!)

tractor needs a new gear box

pump gets flooded

pool filter packs up

washing machine refuses to spin

fridge makes a last dying sound

  • the above did not all happen at once but I have been in a similar situation
  • Oh and the worst… not being able to get decent “experienced handy men to work on the farm…such as tilers, electricians, plumbers, builders etc. In town you have a choice of 30 plus, we have one choice!
  • AND THE worst…..sending your child away to boarding school….boo hoo
  • oh and everyone expects 3 x 3 course meals when they visit you

I had a little nap after lunch, that’s probably why I’m grumpy. That’s another thing you can do on a farm….send Molly off with the nanny and have a lovely after lunch snooze.

oh and eat copious amounts of biltong and drink lovely fresh water to balance out the water retention.

and our kids can play with guns and shoot buck up and shit. (said with tongue in cheek!)

Living on a farm is a juxtaposition in more ways than one.




oops, forgot to mention that….


oops, totally forgot to mention that 21 years ago, John ghrypped  (pronounced gghhray-pt), shaped, pulled into  me at Intervarsity, back in ’92.

The 5th of August 1992. We kissed for the first time.

The boob holding and dry humping all came later. Much later. I was green and wet behind the ears at that stage.

So, happy 21 years Love!

We kissed in that 1300 white Ford Eskort, leaning over the gear lever and hand brake and then you took me back  to Res for my 12pm curfew.

Oh, those were the days.

Gone but not forgotten…

A little bit of this and a little bit of that………..


So the kitchen renovations began last week. Pulling off of tiles, plastering, undercoats etc. Today we start on the cupboards. By the end of the week we should be on granite tops, painting and next week hopefully my absolutely delicious flooring I’ve chosen. Then curtains etc.

Fun, to a point. Messy to the moon and back. I find myself uninspired to cook too. My freezer is crammed with Woolies soups, breads, meals etc. Yes, I’ve become a lazy whore  woman. Nina Deli has made a killing out of me with their ready cooked lasagnes.

Oh by the way, Woolies Pumpkin and Sage soup is delicious. Just saying. I’ve never really cooked with Sage. I’m more of a fresh coriander, basil, parsley, thyme, organum and mint kinda gal. So it was lovely to taste that combo together. I shall definitely be looking into what else I can cook with Sage. Yes, I can be a philistine limited cook.

Yesterday we had the photographic club here for the day. The theme was Railway tunnels and Trains. John took them to the Vulture Kranz and they photographed the Cape Vulture in all its splendour. The kids and I joined them after lunch. Spent a lovely morning slothing. Although they all arrived at 6-30am, so I was up early serving coffee.

This morning I pruned my roses, I’ll be shifting some rose bushes and lavender bushes. My one bed is annoying the crap out of me. It’s all unbalanced and has no flow. I get vexed every time I look at it. I need to seriously get a life.

Have a good week.