Tag Archives: farming community

The meaning behind my blog name


The Fat Diaries began as a place to practise my writing and initially I was going to reveal my weight and my weight loss journey.

Whatever……..!! The weight loss has never happened. After this blog challenge at the end of Feb, I will have some bombshells to discuss. I’ve stewed over a few subjects lately, but have restrained myself.

So, wait for it, it’s coming.

I like blogging and I love writing. I need to be more uninhibited though. More truthful. and by truthful, I mean truthful by revealing things that I wouldn’t ordinarily do. Like my weight…or things I’m ashamed of etc etc. like my sneak eating chocolates. I think truth makes for the best kind of writing. Truth has stronger resilience. It is flawless in its execution.

I’d also like to write more about living on a farm and living in the Eastern Cape. The strong social divide. The hearty, colourful and warm people in the Eastern Cape.

I really love it here. and truth be told, Eastern Cape people, for the most part, are unpretentious and hospitable folk.

Unpretentious people just do it for me. am sure you’ve gathered that about me, by now!


today is a new day….


As much as I’m missing Aidan, and we are, I can’t believe the lack of stress in my daily life. No-one KNOWS how HECTIC it is to cart and carry kids from school and sport unless you’ve done it or are doing it. I’m sitting back this term and I can’t believe how much less stressful it is. Taking him to school, fetching him. Eating lunch, rushing off to sport. Coming home, doing homework, sorting out supper, bathtime, bedtime. AND THAT’s only ONE child!

I have more time to spend with Molly. She’s still going to school, but I have way more time for her.

Maybe I’m trying to make myself feel better for sending my child to boarding school, but bloody hell…there IS a silver lining here. I worked it out, it’s just Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday that I don’t see him. And it’s been difficult for me to relinquish responsibility to someone else, to entrust them to do his homework, to feed him, to orchestrate his extra murals. Not easy. (but once I tasted the freedom….well, in all honesty…it tastes…well….nice!)

Having said that…I can’t wait to speak to him tonight. Tuesday nights are bad nights. Last week he sobbed and begged me to fetch him. I’m holding thumbs it goes a bit better tonight.

On a completely different note, yesterday I went to a tea. I think I had a bit of a Toerets syndrome yesterday, as I do!  Can’t stop thinking about what I said? Very funny, but well……very inappropriate. We have friends that are getting married and “saving themselves” for the wedding night. Well she is moving from the big city to be closer to her fiance the month before the wedding. They will be staying in the same house as his folks. Except…. the folks are going on a 3 week holiday. So I opened my BIG BLOODY MOUTH and said: “Yes, there’ll be lots of Pre-marital dry-humping going on in that house!” Very funny, when you’re at the club, half tight on white wine spritzers, but so not fine at a tea. I’m very embarrassed and feel so bad. Everyone laughed but I still feel bad.

That was yesterday and today is a bright fresh new day…


Thoughtful Thursday………..


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….

The one about the Online Shopping Whore….


Don’t you just love online shopping. I’m a bit of an online shopping whore.

From Kalahari to Yuppie Chef, well it blows me hair back, it does.

All those books and CDS’s to trawl through on Kalahari. I find Musica so intimidating. All that loud music, CD boxes lined up and thrusting themselves at me. My brain scrambles and I don’t know where to start. The sales people so hip and over-energised and mouthing the words to songs I’ve never heard before. Makes me feel so old and not with it. and….I am with it!

Online shopping is relaxed, I can take my time and really buy what I like. Plus the excitement of receiving a parcel in the mail is borderline orgasmic.

Ripping that hard plastic ribbon that holds the brown box together to reveal the contents. (A car key works well, by the way, at tearing the hard plastic ribbon.) I can never wait until I get home, I’m ashamed to admit. I usually saunter casually to the car, sit down, look over my left shoulder, look over my right shoulder, to make sure no-ones watching the rip-shit-and-tear and go for my badge.

However, this is a small town, so I’m sure someone, somewhere is sitting with binoculars, behind their net curtains and scouting for a bit of action.

and then there’s the drive home…..all excited to page through the book, listen to the CD, use my gadget or whatever else I’ve just taken delivery of.



so anyway, here I sit waiting for John to come home from a meeting in town, with my parcel from Kalahari. The latest Spud, Cathy Kelly and a Bryce Courtney. Can’t wait….oooooh, I think I hear his bakkie now…

The secrets of a farming community……


Friends are a funny things. I grew up with sisters, with me being the middle sister, so I crave girl friends, crave women’s company. I like sitting on a couch, coffee cup in hand, bitching about life, laughing over something that happened.

And boys don’t get it. They don’t get the camaraderie among women. The sharing, the shoulder to cry on, the unity. A true friend is one that listens to your bitching and forgets about it immediately. A problem shared is a problem halved and all that.

Now a man will listen to the moaning, offer unwanted advice and think that, that was how we truly felt. But it’s just a venting in the heat of the moment. Here now, gone tomorrow.

Now a TRUE friend and one in a million won’t even mention anything you’ve said to their husband later on that night. They’ll listen and be discrete.

In my opinion boys share and skiner worse than girls. Without meaning to, mind. They do it without realising the shit storm, shell shock, repercussions of their confession.

Now in a farming community nothing is a secret. You think it is. But it’s not. They all know. They just keep quiet out of politeness and respect. Respect to your face that is. It doesn’t mean that it doesn’t get thrashed around at the next bull sale and laughed about. You’ll suspect the laughing…but you can’t prove it.

Men feign innocence very well. Dead pan expressions. And when you next nip off to the ladies room, laugh uproariously behind your back, and give each other knowing looks. And you are none the wiser. Oblivious and smug in the secret that no-one allegedly knows about.

That’s farming. That’s the community here.

I wear my heart on my sleeve, so I’m safe for the moment. It’s when you try to keep a secret that everyone makes it their personal mission to find out what it is.

and they usually do…..find out that is.

Counteskaz is tired jong………


This place is exhausting me at the moment. I’ve had more than enough.

Yesterday I had to suck my thumb and cater for an event where I didn’t know how many people where coming. It’s difficult. So I catered for 500 and we sold about 450 meals for our Farmer’s Association Bike Ride.

A few weeks ago I organised the Methodist bazaar and cooked 14 kgs of mince for 100 portions of curry and rice. The day after that, John and I cooked a potjie for 150 people for our Country Club fundraiser.

Now I have to organise this months steakhouse for about 70-80 people this Saturday. sigh. sigh. sigh. All for Round Table.

Next Monday I’ll start organising the food for John’s 40th. Beef and ale pie for about 80 people. Numbers will be confirmed on Friday.

John and I are not caterers. We just live in a farming community. We are ALL involved. AND,  if someone said to me at lunch time, I’ll be bringing 80 people for lunch tomorrow, I wouldn’t bat an eyelid. That would be 5kgs of rice, 10 kg’s of rump for Beef Stroganoff and all the extra’s. Fetch plates and knives and forks from Round Table. Organise 2 serving points. and BOB’s your uncle. I’m a veteran now…..old hat. ha ha

I enjoy being involved, it’s fun to work with like-minded ladies all focused on the same goal. To raise money for our Old Age Home, our needy Farm Schools, our community, the soup kitchen. The list is endless.

It’s fun. It’s also fun for the kids too. They get to jol with all their mates and drink one or two cans of creme soda. But for me, this Monday morning, where my feet and lower back feel VERY hard done by, I’m limping and feeling a tad sorry for myself. Jeez, when does this end?

Countesskaz is tired…..jong!

heeee haaaaa cowgirl………..


So this morning has begun with an argument already. Jeez, I’m exhausted before the day begins. What is that?

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out…..

Today, well actually this morning, I have a free morning to do as I choose. No noose around my neck pulling tighter and tighter if I don’t do my chores.

I choose to frame. Lovely. This last week I pulled in so much work in that I caught a teeny speed wobble. I think it could have been 25 jobs in two days. I have more lined up this week. The thing with framing is, is that one ALWAYS has work. I never look at my work bench and think, phew I’m done here buggers. It’s never happened in the 4 years of owning this little business.

I’m also framing more ‘oils’ which is just my fave. I love framing oils. No glass, no fiddly mount board.

The art gallery is ticking by slowly. I’ve connected with another artist. I’ve possibly sold another two paintings this week. A good chance.

I’m busy with my next event. John’s 40th birthday bash held down in one of our sheds.  A Country and Western theme. Dress up required. So I need to organise my cow-girl outfit. I’ve planned the menu. I want good, hearty Country food. It will be something like this: A table with homemade different breads, farmbutter, cheeses and pots of homemade jams. Hearty beef and Guinness pie with rice(for the farmers) and some steaming veg. And then for puds(we say pudding in our family, not dessert, see earlier posts), Malva Pudding and hot custard.

There are a fair amount of people coming and so need to have food that I can prepare the day before and just heat up. I’m going to have hay bales for seating and some red and white gingham table cloths on the serving tables. With some saddles and cowboy hats (thank you Crazy Store) strewn about to add to the ambience. The bar will be in one corner and will have to organise some sensible barmen and a DJ in the other corner.

The nannies will look after all the monkeys up at the house. I’ll put on some DVD’s and pray my house will stay in one piece. Thembisa can organise Hot dogs and ice-cream for the kids. Very nerve wracking though. I also might have about 20 sleeping over. Will ask neighbours for their house that they use for weekend getaways. So some people will stay with us and a few next door. All sorted. If the weather is too cold we’ll have it up at the house. It’s gets really cold here in the Winter.

Phew, I have writers cramp. Too much sharing for one day, I think….

later biaaaatches……….