Birthdays 2013 ...

“So who turns 19 … that is such a ridiculous number”, my (then 18 year old) daughter declared. Alas, since choosing our birthdays non-chronologically is not an option, that is precisely what happened late in August.  Despite the eye rolling theatrics, she seemed to have an enjoyable day. I enter into evidence the supporting photographic documents below.

Four-odd months later it was the youngest daughter’s turn, but 15 seemed to trigger no specific comments, violent reactions or suggestions. My biggest challenge with her was to find something that would crack the teenage veneer and elicit a spontaneous response. Since she chose to have a universal voucher** rather than a specific gift, my options were limited.  However, I am happy to report that I managed to get a genuinely delighted smile out of her when I presented her card, the universal voucher and … her own round of camembert cheese (with her name written on it). I will cherish that moment for a long time to come.  Below is some of the photographic evidence of her party, to which she later remarked nonchalantly: “It was mildly amusing”. High praise indeed.

-----------------------------

 ** When an amount of cash is placed inside a pretty folded card or paper with the words
‘Universal Voucher … accepted everywhere’ boldly written on the front.

On the beach

It sounds quite simple, doesn't it? Writing a blog about holiday and being on the beach and so on. Well, to my shame I must admit that this particular holiday already happened in, uhm, July. I have edited the photos early on (very fluks), and started playing with ideas about how to put it together, but alas, seemed to get stuck at every turn. So, as I was contemplating life earlier (in a very nice, hot bath) the ideas seemed to get 'unstuck', and herewith (at last) an account of our holiday in Umdloti. And no, this is not a day-by-day, blow-by-blow account. Just some photos and a few impressions.


Some people on the beach are strangers....



and some are not...

Wessel and Etienne

some are neither strangers nor very calm ...

Marni, Danae and Roelof. My daughters actually swam... in the sea [*gasp*]

some things are helpful...

In a testament to perseverance, this phone is still working. Rust in peace (or pieces?!). 

and some are just silly...

"Behold, behold the extent of our kingdom ..."

and then there are the pointers...

to the reason we return time and time again...

...the undeniable, unadulterated beauty! 

The vast ocean, in its movement, quieting the soul.

Bliss.

And then it finally did...

I was instantly awake. Smiling. 

To anyone who knows me, this will sound like, well … very unlike me. It is after all a well established fact that I am not a morning person. Let's just say that I make the transition between sleep and consciousness with some difficulty every morning, except on days like these.

It was darker than it should be and I could hear the soft patter of raindrops on the roof…yes, finally, the first rain of summer. Soft, ground penetrating, get-the-winter-dust-off-everything rain. When I opened the curtains, I knew that the rain would continue during the day – sometimes harder, sometimes softer, but somehow, gloriously, never quite stopping. Big smile.

I have always enjoyed rainy days, because apart from the cosiness (wanting to curl up with a book and coffee somewhere), I also experience great promise. Almost as if anything is possible on a rainy day. [* contented sigh*]

Without further ado then, a few of my first-rainy-day-of-the-season photos. Permit me to say that it is not that easy to ‘freeze’ raindrops, so make deductions from the general wetness portrayed. Also, quite surprising this sprummer (not sure whether it is actually spring or summer), is the cold weather accompanying the rain. Ah well, easy enough to don a jacket and savour the day! 



It is actually raining... (refer to the disclaimer above)

Let's play "find the indentations indicating the raindrops" (HINT: there are two...)

Love it!

 

Sunday, 19 October 2013, Centurion.



Ladies of leisure

September. One (1). Spring day. Weather on the cooler side, but nonetheless a beautiful sunny day.

I didn’t really have plans to go out today, but then three things happened. Data bundles expired, I woke up in a very relaxed, bordering on lazy, state and there was a photographic excursion to Dullstroom. Wessel got up before the crack of dawn (at around 4:00 when I was thankfully still fast asleep) for the trek to Dullstroom and was only expected back after lunch. So the reasoning went thus – since I had to go to the Mall to recharge our data bundles, the kids should accompany me (very dangerous to be at the Mall on my own) and then we would ‘grab’ something to eat while we’re there. One trip, two noble causes.

 

So we ended up at O’Galito, admittedly less in the grabbing and more in the gently taking category, where we sat outside under one of the gazebos. Initially I was a bit dubious about the setting because it looked out over the play area at the lake, but it turned out to be very pleasant - both in terms of the weather and the potential noise levels. The waiter was extremely witty, his service great and the food absolutely delicious. We spent a leisurely (almost) two hours there and came home replenished and feeling very content.

Later, Papa Bear listened somewhat wistfully to the tale, so we will have no choice but to repeat the exercise in the near future. :-)

Good times. Good food. Spring time.

Faugust

Betwixt and between. Neither here nor there. August.

For many years I have observed, let’s just call it, the ‘Faugust’ phenomenon. Winter starts towards May, gets a bit more serious in June and July (although this year I’m not even sure about that) and then suddenly one morning I realise that everything is slightly off kilter. It creeps up on me, the feelings of dread, the existential fear that this may be all there ever will be. Stuck. Forever. And when I check the date, it’s invariably August.

The realisation comes with the awareness that a lot of people around me are also struggling, some irritable, some feeling constantly bleh, some having mid-life crises prematurely. My friend Megan, in her blog on August (her delightful posts can be found at misfitsofadventure.blogspot.com) refers to the pervading restlessness and edginess. A kind of limbo.  (I wonder if people in the Northern hemisphere experience this feeling in April).

And then towards the end of August and without a discernible change in the weather forecasts (or advertisements as I like to call them), I get outside one morning and there it is … The fresh smell of slightly wet soil promising new beginnings.

So fellow August travellers, my advice is this. Hang in there, keep calm, do not make life changing decisions, and just get through the fog of August. Nearly there.

September.

Comforts and cheap thrills

The warm water, bordering on hot, cascading, forming a curtain of balmy (barmy?) wellbeing…. aahhh! That morning shower invariably makes me smile and I’m reminded of other things which create that slightly goofy smile and absolute comfort.

So I’ve decided to share a few of the things on my list … maybe there are some that resonate with you as well.

Comforts (and feel goods)

Having just waxed lyrical about that lekker morning shower, I must confess that it was not always the case. I used to think that a shower is cold and recently figured out why … When I opened the taps to get the water to temperature, some of the (then still cold) drops splashed onto my feet leaving me with the impression that showers were only to be had on very hot summer days. Fortunately I saw the error of my ways, while the luxurious evening bath is still a fixture, the morning shower has taken its rightful place on the list of comforts. Gratitude abounds.

In winter, a warm bath is followed by donning the fluffy gown or curling up under a fluffy blanket (those small very soft ones). With a hot beverage in hand, life doesn’t get much better. However, a few special words need to go to goose down or silk duvets.  The fact that they adjust to body temperature no matter which season it is, is an obvious bonus, but what I really enjoy is how deliciously inviting they look when the bed is made – all fluffy and luxurious! Mmmm.

If you have read my ‘Ode to the bean’ post you will not be surprised that the smell of freshly brewed coffee makes, no wait, probably tops the list of comforts. It conjures up the cosiness of conversations, the feeling of wonder when visiting faraway places, of life – uhm, let me not get too carried away, but I trust you got the gist of that.

The smell of books¹, now that is another comfort I do not get tired of. Walking into a bookshop and inhaling the smell is an instant pick-me-up and the best part is you don’t even have to buy a book to enjoy it. A very nice freebee indeed.

Popcorn! The smell. The taste. True courage being able to eat only one popcorn. And that (if I may borrow from Forrest), is all I have to say about that. ²

Then there is the smell of fresh earth just after a flash thunderstorm … never fails to make me pause, take a deep breath and relax for a bit.

I love butter! With that said, let me explain toast. As soon as it pops out of the toaster (golden brown and firm), I slap a thick wad of butter on one corner and sink my teeth into it ³. Warm melting butter, the hot, still crunchy bread and the lingering smell of the toast. Feel-good deluxe! [* contented sigh*]

Before I continue, let me just point out that the list contains my favourites and by that reasoning, is in no particular order.

Slightly runny, oozy brie or camembert on a savoury biscuit - rich and creamy as it creates a silky taste sensation ⁴ … [* une moment s’il vous plait *]

The next one is really a category and it deals with those special things mom and ouma used to make when I was still a ‘children’! It is so much more than food, it is an entire sensory memory bank. Good times!

I fear that if I get into books, music and movies that this blog will never end. Perhaps a blog post for another day… Suffice it to say that these all give me a measure of contentment, and the great thing about the many genres is that there is one for every mood and occasion. ‘Nuff said. ⁵

Finally, in the visual department, waves and fire … I’ll let your own inner voice guide you on this one. Lastly, I find it mesmerising and strangely comforting to watch raindrops as they trail down the edge of the windscreen, sometimes changing course, merging with other drops until these small streams are chasing to the bottom.  (Strict warning: do not get too carried away when you are the operator of the vehicle at the time!)

Cheap thrills

Without much ado (as you, being very observant readers, would’ve noticed from the subheading), my top three cheap thrills.

As long as I can remember, I’ve been thrilled by the sight of a ‘wishy washy’ ⁶. Getting the car aligned to the track, moving towards the wall of turning and swirling brushes ahead. Then, as the car gets close enough, the brushes sweep aside and allow the car into the cavern. And for the next few minutes, I am completely alone, closed off in my own little world with only the sound of spraying water and the swishing of brushes to keep me company. Love it!

In the centre of Pretoria there is a building ⁷ with the most amazing lift. The front and side panels are glass, but where one enters on the ground floor it looks almost like a regular lift as it is enclosed in the shaft. The trick is this – when you enter the lift, select the top floor and stand facing the glass panel opposite the door. You see only the wall until around the eleventh floor, when the lift suddenly exits the enclosing shaft and it literally feels like the world falls away around you. In addition to the exhilaration, you’ll have the most beautiful view over the city. Cheap thrill, excellent value.

A few years ago, I offered to take friends’ sons with my youngest daughter to Centurion mall one Saturday morning. After our hearty Wimpy breakfast (always a winner with the kids), I saw that there were giant trampolines set up in the arena overlooking the lake ⁸. Long story short, the boys were keen, my daughter needed a bit of cajoling but in the end the kids all enjoyed their jumps. While waiting for them, I decided to get myself a ticket as well. Having spent holidays on the family farm where there was a trampoline (regular with no ropes), I figured, why not. As I was jumping, I asked the young man who assisted me ⁹ whether I could make somersaults and he said yes, but will have to give me a bit of extra momentum. The first one was very strange because the ropes make for a very slow turn, but then I got the hang of it and went all out! Quite the adrenaline rush and the look on the people’s faces when we walked away were priceless. Well worth a try!

------------------

¹ When I recently told a friend of mine about this, I got a “are-you-completely-out-of-your-mind” look, so I guess this could potentially be a surprising entry on the list. Who knew that not everyone thought that books smelt good…

² In one of life’s little ironies, my husband is one of the people who actually don’t really enjoy popcorn.

³ As evidenced in the photo…

⁴ Megs and Natha, this one’s for you!

⁵ The photo portrays some of the favourites.

⁶ My expression for an automated car wash…

⁷ When last I was there it was called the Fed Life Forum Building.

⁸ The lake was still something to look at and a lot of the restaurants had tables outside facing the arena and the lake.

⁹ There are trained personnel on every trampoline to help give people a bit more lift and to make sure the young ones do not get a fright or bounce around uncontrollably.

  

Ode to the Bean

distinctive shapes
in rich brown hues
offer the first whiff
of bliss to come

the harsh sound of grinding
juxtaposed by aroma
forcefully, exquisitely
released

 gentle coaxing of the
mound into the
moka pot belly,
onto the heat

 the distinctive tang
permeating the room
crawling up the nostrils,
bursting with promise


 until splutters
signal the end of the brew
flavours fully aroused,
ready

 the first sip
grabbing the tongue
with its strong overtones,
fragrantly bitter

then gentle caress
as the velvety liquid
mellows, each sip…
pure delight!

…………………

so, to the goatherd
 whose spotting of the
red cherry effects
yielded the decoction *
so widely enjoyed

 

a toast …
and my humble,
very sincere
thanks

* water in which a crude vegetable drug has been boiled and which therefore contains the constituents or principles of the substance soluble in boiling water

Sisterhood

I had a very interesting conversation with a close friend of mine about the 'ideal' number of children and the gap between them earlier in the week. Based on a thorough empirical study (which in our case consists of citing examples from our own and other people’s experience – all very scientific indeed) we came to the conclusion that, no matter what the gap is, not all siblings will end up being friends. The jury is still out on the ideal number, although as a wise man once told me, the complexities of a family’s interactions increase exponentially with each new addition. Our final word on numbers was that it depends on a combination of providence, choice and circumstances.

My own experience so far has been that my daughters (18 and 14) have always enjoyed or at the least tolerated each other fairly well. There was a period a few years ago though where they irritated each other intensely. Thankfully that phase seems to be over, the teen and PMS effect notwithstanding, and I have noticed that they get along better the older they get. Annoyingly (resigned sigh), they are often siding with each other now and will take us to task if one perceives a ‘mistreatment’ of the other sibling.  

The special nature of their relationship was beautifully illustrated for me the other night when Marni asked me to check her hair, because something was itching and “would just not stop”. To emphasise the point she did her little signature ‘stomp-out-the-fire-toi-toi’ dance while furiously scratching. I duly checked her hair and discovered, to her horror and mine, some lice nesting very comfortably in the long tresses. She must have brought back more than just memories from the most recent camp…

Danae then announced that her head has also been itching. Knowing how often she spends time in her sister’s room, I checked, but swiftly concluded that hers was probably, not to mention fortunately (relieved sigh), due to a dry scalp.

The obvious treatment is a very fine comb and lice shampoo from the chemist, but that would only be available the next morning. Since her sister was obviously freaked out, Danae had a chat with the resident 24 hour pharmacist (Mr Google) and found a few home remedies. Combining a few of the recipes, we settled on a mixture of salt, vinegar, oil and water and Danae prepared the potion. She joined her sister in the bathroom and I was summarily dismissed. Soon shrieks, peals of hysterical laughter, followed by more shrieks were coming from the bathroom. And there I found them, Marni kneeling over the bath and Danae, having sprayed the ‘vinegary-shriek-inducing’ potion, patiently combing her hair and removing lots of stuff (do not dwell on this point!). Chatting amiably and seemingly having a good time.

Sisterhood. I suppose when it works, there is nothing to beat it!

(Contented sigh)

Goofy on occasion...

 

Having a good time...

 

Sisterhood!

Third time lucky

In August last year, we had an unexpected visit from Etienne, an old school friend of mine who has been living and working in America for the past 15 years. As we were reminiscing about the past, the subject of his skydiving adventures came up. Marni immediately piped up to say that she wanted to do skydiving one day. Later, he asked us whether he could organise a tandem skydive for her 18th birthday. We agreed and shortly after his return to America, I received an e-mail with the gift voucher and details. The jump even included a camera man to capture all the action. I gave her the papers (voucher, instructions etc.) without comment and watched the comprehension dawning...

 

Most of Marni's friends thought her crazy to want to jump out of a perfectly working aeroplane, but she remained very excited in her words to "fall out of a plane with only a parachuted man strapped to my back".

Setting  a date sounds trivial, but I had to contend with final matric exams, driver's tests and a bejillion holidays and camps in December. Hettie (at the Pretoria Skydiving Club) suggested 1 December and I was ecstatic - it was literally the only Saturday Marni had free! Maybe this was not so difficult after all.

So, on the morning of 1 December, we set out at the crack of dawn to get to Wonderboom Airport by no later than 8:15 for the 9:00 appointment. The (very long) list of instructions was a bit intimidating, so we were very prompt. The day was overcast (positively gloomy in fact), and when we arrived, there were a couple of instructors lounging around, but no sign of Hettie.  When she got there at 9:00 she apologised profusely, explaining that she had copied my cellphone number incorrectly and therefore couldn't advise us to wait until we got the all clear from her. Before starting the trek. C'est la vie. So, in the hope that the clouds would lift, we had a bite at the Airport building (Villa San Giovanni is a lovely place for an early morning breakfast), but called it a day at 10:30 and returned home.

Hettie and I resumed our e-mail conversations on Monday morning and set the date for 19 January. Rain and clouds, clouds and rain on the morning which Hettie (this time the number was correct) confirmed was exactly the same on the other side of the mountain. We had breakfast again (this time at our local Fabulate), and at 11:00 mutually agreed that the day was good for many things, but certainly not skydiving. Maintaining visual contact with the ground is apparently important...

Pen pals by now, Hettie and I then made a provisional (this was how I learnt to view it) booking for 2 February at 10:00. And, lo and behold, the second of February arrives all sunny and beautiful. We arrived to find the place bustling with activity - everyone very merry indeed.

So here without further ado, a photo chronicle of the day!



Strapping in, buckling up and instructions!
 

 
It started with a faint image (we were told which parachute will be theirs), getting steadily closer over the next 10 minutes until, with the telephoto lens, you could see her expression changing from happily swaying in the breeze to biting the lower lip as the ground came inexorably closer!





  

Landing gear ready...



 



...and safely on the ground!

  




Danae happy to have her sister back on the ground!

"It was awesome, but the plane ride was rough.

 I knew I had the guts to jump, but didn't take

 into account that I may not have the stomach

 for the ride up there."

 

 

 Skydiving, check. Breakfast at Villa San Giovanni,
 check. Happy to be on terra firma... Check!


The butterfly princess

Danae. Born on 30 October 1998. The story of the improbable, yet very delightful child.

You have always had a special way about you. As a young baby, you could fix people with a stare, look them up and down and if you 'approved', they would get the most beautiful smile. Even now, you are able to analyse a situation, sift through all the possibilities and come up with the best course of action. Insightful, situationally aware, and (fiercely) independent. You are a carer who will bring a blanket or glass of water when someone is ill. Although you are very easy going and a (often) a bit of a chatter box, you are intensely private. Your confidence and insecurity are like yin and yang and you get hurt and a bit prickly when you don't get the attention you deserve. You are sometimes afraid to try new things, but when you do, the sky is the limit. Dancing and music always give you pleasure and it sometimes seems as if you are like a rubber ball bouncing about.When it gets to being able to count (e.g. knowing instinctively that if you and your older sister had 6 sweets each and she took one of yours, I had to give 2 more to you...) and solving puzzles of any kind, you run rings around most people. Irrefutable, my darling, is the fact that you are beautiful, talented, very, very sharp indeed, possess a great sense of humour and is a privilege and pleasure to know and love!



Here are some of your baby and toddler moments
(note the atttitude bottom left)



Your first day of school (ever so shyly) and then
through primary school to your 13th birthday. 

 

 

Drumroll .. and then it was 2012, a year of great transformation in your life. You changed from the pretty, young, grade 8 girl into this beautifully poised young lady!

.

And just like that you were all grown up.... 

 

Our beautiful Butterfly Princess! Spread your wings and live happily, with love, grace and confidence... you deserve it!








Second thoughts

“My next blog is going to be about my kids”, I confidently declared. Or not. I quickly discovered that it is not so easy to condense 18 and 14 years respectively into blog posts… and certainly not at the breezy pace I had envisaged. The first stumbling block was the fact that 10 and 6 years (again respectively) of my children’s lives were captured on film… with negatives kind-of-film. These were at least neatly stored in separate envelopes, but the ‘convenience’ stopped right there. Sifting through them is obviously not as easy as with the large-medium-small thumbnails available for the digital counterparts. The real time thief, however, is deciding which of the photographs dotted along memory lane contain the highlights and also how the alphabet soup should be arranged to best capture their personalities. So the long and short is that I’m putting in the time, persevering, but that the final products are still in the making. Coming in 2013 to a blog spot near you ….

Speaking of perseverance, it reminded me of an evening a few years back when our good friends Johan and Laetitia were visiting and we decided to have a góód bottle of red wine. Wessel dug into the stash of bottles reserved for special occasions and triumphantly held up a respectable 1974, both in brand and variety. Unfortunately, the proof of the grape was a rather sour affair and we promptly moved on to a similarly respectable 1981. Alas. After that, we valiantly opened bottles spanning a few more decades until, in pure desperation, we opened a 5 minute old red. Palatable, but definitely not the smooth, velvety, well matured wine we envisaged at the start of our little adventure. 


I learnt three things. The first is that wine storage requires more attention and science than ‘just stacking’ allows for. The second is that the quality of friends to share fun moments with is far more valuable than the quality of the wine. The third is that we should not wait for special occasions, but to create them. Live a little! You may otherwise waste the opportunties held in 7 (!) good bottles of wine...

 

Genesis

It starts with a confession...

I have always been desperately scared of the concept of diaries, journals and ... yes, you guessed it, personal blogs. Loved the stationery and pretty backgrounds, but very wary of doing it.

I could not fathom why anyone would want to take the time to bare their souls and pour out their innermost thoughts and feelings. You see, apart from being fairly reserved when it came to my own ramblings (...bet you didn't see that one coming), I always believed in being able to read the reaction to what I am sharing and setting the proper context so that there will be no misunderstandings.... and so on and so forth. I know, I know, just get over yourself already!

So I got myself a brown paper bag, took a few deep breaths... and a few more, and followed the advice of my two sage friends. What they were arguing was that it is a way to express yourself and just enjoy the process of writing. It doesn't need to be all glamorous or profound, it can just be a bit of me.

Thus armed with advice and support, I (further) confess to mulling it over for a while (no notes on the subject lying around of course). It was after all a big step for me, overcoming this 'fear of sharing'. And then suddenly realised one day, watching a beautiful sunset tends to bring out a measure of the profound, that it really doesn't matter what other people think or feel about it. It matters that I am able to enjoy my writing and find pleasure in expression.

After that, I got some instruction on how to set up a blog (thanks Megs). The face of the blog will still change (am working on some ideas for graphics), but I wanted to take the first step.

Quirks. Quarks. Ramblings... Life.

Loving it!