Retrospective

Last week just whizzed by. I tried to catch it and stall its rushing, but my efforts were in vain.  It was a busy week and, at the same time, a very quiet week.

Let me first introduce you to Crocky and his harem. Crocky is our highly temperamental feather duster…. sorry… silkie rooster.  We have a sign on the fence warning kids (especially the grown kind who have offspring) that he can be mean and has drawn blood on a few occasions. To date, we have no data on his attacks and can’t decide what makes him go for the jugular on some days, but not others.

His harem is delightful though. We have Rhode Island hens and Barnevelders. The one Barnevelder is currently broody and warming a nest of prospective feather-bundles. We have speculated at length what they’d end up looking like. A mix of Rhode Island or Barnevelder and a white silkie rooster who carries his brain on his beak? They’ll be interesting if nothing else!


Meet my glove’s nemesis…. mustard seed. The mustard is used here primarily as a green manure. We let it grow, then chop it straight into the soil where it was planted. Picking the seed was bad enough. It’s sticky and pulls at your hair (really tall plant). Then getting the seed off the stalks. Can you see the prickles? They’re little splinters that are out to get you. The mustard shredded a few pairs of gloves already. I’m no fan of the plant, but I guess it’s good.


Some wanted to know where I live. I have to be discreet here. We’re guests, after all. The driveway leads right up to the main house. The second-storey bay window is our day room. We look down on the driveway. If you have a moment, do find the first episode of “The Tudors” on Youtube. At the start of the episode, the horse comes galloping up that very same driveway! Yes, it was filmed here. “Camelot” was another that was filmed here. In fact, the list of films and TV shows that were filmed on this estate is pretty long.


Another view… in this case, the first floor (second, to Americans) bay window is our apartment.

Last night, we had our staff party at the Beach pub in Greystones. Ah, it was lovely! As per all drinking occasions, best friends were made and life-long bonds were forged (whether they’ll be remembered in cold daylight is another matter entirely *grins*). We drank, we sang, we danced, we yelled over the band and missed most of what was said (at least, I did). In short, we had loads of fun.

I love my job. I love where I live (not just the house… the place… the town… the region). I love the people. I love my life. It is good :)

Technorati Tags: ireland,mustard,silkie,barnevelder,rhode-island,chickens,pub,party

A fowl food rant

I don’t like gooseberries. Really! Ok, I like gooseberries, but the ingrates grow on thorny bushes that defy my attempts to keep them alive. There I was, picking off sawfly larvae and getting repeatedly stabbed by a nest of thorns. Right. Keep your durned larvae. See if I care. I’ll eat the raspberries and blackberries instead. So there!

I think there’s a food conspiracy out today. It started with chicken food. Or duck food… whichever way you prefer to look at it. Frank suggested the chickens may benefit and even like some duckweed from the longponds. I met Sayo and promised her an adventure that may or may not involve swimming. She cautiously agreed… what a good sport she is!

View of the longponds from my bedroom

I must point out at this stage, that Sayo is petit and does everything with Japanese efficiency. I am probably the direct opposite. Leaning over the water, noting that the local hare has dug a cave system near the edge - at least, I assume it’s him - I saved myself from going for the promised swim in the chilly morning air by doing a sort of dive-roll off to the side. I looked at my pitiful collection of duckweed and Sayo’s full bucket and decided that the chickens weren’t all that hungry anyway.

And no, I took no photos - for those who have the temerity to even suggest it. Hmph!

The chickens greeted us with the usual friendly, gentle “crrrrrck…. crrrrrrck” when they saw the buckets. See, they’re used to bread and cake treats in the mornings. The stroppy little silkie rooster just squawked and crowed and flapped and flustered as he always does. We tossed the duckweed to them. They rushed over, looked at it, looked at us and… “What is this?? Where’s our bread? Our cake? You expect us to eat vegetables??”  There’s nothing like a flock of chickens standing at the fence with heads cocked, looking at you as though you’ve deprived them of their very sustenance. Keep in mind that they do have regular chicken food, so they’re not starving. All the animals here are very spoiled. I caved. I sprinkled some cake over the ‘vegetables’ and they demolished it. Spoilt brats!

The rest of my day was the usual… totally different from any previous day. Cleared mud off the electric fences in the pig pen - we have determined pigs. Jurgis went chasing Lisa and her piglets twice - she’s become quite the escape artist. He also fixed up a nice brush cutter for us for the walled garden. That’ll help in our war against the thistle and nettle. I spent a fair time cleaning the soil off our drying garlic, then harvested some calendula flowers for drying. That will make a nice salve once I’ve sourced some beeswax. I need to have a chat with our bee-keeper on the subject.

Now back to fowl food. What is with this world that they sell ready-trussed chickens that still need to be plucked? If I wanted to pluck my own chicken, I wouldn’t buy it from the supermarket! The thing had so much feather, it about flew out of the fridge! Either way, I plucked (grrr!) the chicken, then spatchcocked it and roasted it in wine with freshly-picked tarragon and our own garlic. Very tasty! All in all, not a bad day and no, I’m not going to blog the fact that I was carrying my dinner to the table and managed to drop the plate-full of food on the carpet. Can we say emergency cleanup?

Technorati Tags: food,chicken,duckweed,gooseberries

Wisps of thought

Words burst forth
from the bubble of my thoughts
Whirling, dancing
Floating on the air of my mind
Teasing me
with their will-o-wisp ways
Nay, said they!
You'll not pin us down on paper

You may well gather, from this bit of wordy drivel, I'm struggling to pin thoughts down long enough to blog them. As it is, I started on this a few hours ago and all the lovely prose and words of wisdom I had in my head are gone...... *empty*

Needing therapy for the shopping therapy

I don't have a picture for this blog. I looked for a picture. Apparently no one else suffers with shopping. How odd. Wait... this one should do...

 

Now I can do online shopping. I think that is, in all probability, because it's not here.Otherwise, besides shopping for food (as opposed to starvation), I avoid shopping like the plague. Here's why....
I had just finished with the first class of the day. This was in town. There wasn't enough time to go home, but there was too much time to go on to the next student. I have put off buying some necessities for years, so I decided to pull myself up by the bootstraps and just do it. I needed some underwear and socks.
First stop, a shop where I've had success before. Should be a breeze. I looked in. Two men manning the cash register and no fitting rooms. Here they think nothing of trying on bras over their clothing in full view of the street. Not for me, thanks, so I turned my attention to the 'socks' or foot-stockings. I hate pantihose, so I wear ankle-highs. The "Posso ajudar?" came, as expected. "Yes. I'm looking for the thicker stockings, as I walk a lot and want them to last longer than a day at a time." He took me to the thicker stockings. Great! Then I looked in dismay at the white, black, maroon and dark brown colour range. "Don't you have beige or something at least remotely my skin tone?" I asked, not expecting much, as this is, after all, Brazil. "Oh but this brown would look lovely!" Uh... yes... I looked down at my pale tan shoes and even paler skin tone *sigh* He spent ten minutes trying to get me to buy the brown. I must point out at this point that the brown was a dark brown... very dark. No thanks.

I kid you not. The first time I went into a lingerie shop in Brazil, they were quite nonplussed that I refused to try on my wares in the front shop. I watched a woman try on a corset over her dress with hysterical laughter building up. It took all my self-control not to gawp at her.
I gave up and went to the next shop, a lingerie shop. This should be fun (not). A friendly girl asked if she could help. I explained the bra sizing I'm used to... the kind where the cups are different to the backstrap, so you can get something that actually fits. Here, if they don't try to sell you small, medium or large, they sell size 20 through to 54, but with no cup size. The girlie looked confused, then looked at me, pulled out a bra and said, "This should fit you beautifully." I looked dubiously at the offering. I think not, but I decided to prove a point. I went in, poured myself into the synthetic scrap and said, "You'd better look at this." It was patently obvious that it wasn't even a remote fit. She tried one size up and one size down, then a different make. No go. She called the owner, who grimly (she was a rather grim lady) advised me to try yet another set. Nothing doing. "But this one will fit you!" she demanded. Oh no it wouldn't. I peered at my squished appendages. She thought it looked just fine. I ended with saying that, believe it or not, I know my body and I know just what would happen if I tried to move in those. The lack of shock absorbers on most buses would leave me embarrassingly compromised.

*Note... this blog was never finished. I'm going through my old blogs and decided to publish it, as it had me chuckling :)

Technorati Tags: brazil,humour,shopping

Granola Bars

 

Technorati Tags: recipe,granola,health,snack

 

Category:
Baking

Servings:
18 bars

Description:
Because I'm usually out on the road at mealtimes, keeping up with edibles that are light, can be carted around easily and eaten on the run can be a challenge.

The cheaper snack alternatives out there are high carb, high fat, often stale and frequently messy, so I decided to try my own granola bars. I love granola : ) For me, a small yoghurt and a granola bar is enough for lunch. I have no control over the quality and ingredients of the bought bars.

This recipe is fantastic! I don't remember where I got it
25 minutes to make (if you have the fruit pre-chopped)

Ingredients:
* 1 egg
* 1 egg white
* 3/4 cup sugar
* 1/2 cup packed brown sugar
* 3 tbsp canola oil
* 1 tsp vanilla
* 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
* 1 tsp baking soda
* 1/2 teaspoon salt
* 1 1/2 cups rolled oats
* 1/2 cup diced apples, raisins, or dried fruit (optional)

My own variations:
Used half a cup of chopped cashew nut, half a cup of mixed dried fruit, half a cup of coconut, and 1 tablespoon honey (as I didn't have enough brown sugar)

Directions:
Coat a 13" X 9" baking pan with non-stick spray and set aside.
Mix the egg, egg white, sugar and brown sugar until smooth.
Add the oil and vanilla; mix 10 to 15 seconds.
Add flour, baking soda and salt. Mix until just blended. Add oats and incorporate.
Mix in extra ingredients (apples, raisins, etc) with a fork.
Transfer the dough to the prepared pan; press into pan with wet fingers.
Bake at 350F for 25 to 30 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean. Cool in the pan.

Note: I didn't leave mine to cool in the pan, as my oven bakes really hot and it looked like it was beginning to burn. I cut the pieces in the pan and turned them out onto a granite slab to cool. They're perfect!

Dream… Live!

(A repost)

A young man on the verge of his dreams passed this onto me. Thank you, Ohara!
...

Technorati Tags: inspiration

...

It's never too late. The time is Now!

A sheep thing

This post was a classic case of ‘following the herd’… a blog post that everyone has passed around at some point in their blogging. I found it amusing. I still do. Need a chuckle? That is, aside from those moments when you nod and think “Yes"!”

* I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.
* Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.
* I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.
* There is great need for a sarcasm font.
* How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?
* Was learning cursive really necessary?
* Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.
* I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.
* Bad decisions make good stories.
* You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you know that you just aren't going to do anything productive for the rest of the day.
* I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten-page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.
* "Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this -ever.
* I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Damnit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What did you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?
* I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.
* I keep many people's phone numbers in my phone just so I can look like I know many people.
* I think the freezer deserves a light as well.
* I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid " routing option.
* Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what the heck was going on when I first saw it.
* I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.
* I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.
* How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear or understand a word they said?
* I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars team up to prevent a roadhog from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers and sisters!
* Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Trousers? Trousers never

Technorati Tags: humour,fun,funny

get dirty, and you can wear them forever.
* Is it just me or do high school kids get dumber & dumber every year?
* There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.
* Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.
* Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, finding their cell phone, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey - but I'd bet my behind everyone can find and push the snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time, every time!

Afrikaans

Vir dié wat sukkel met Afrikaans tik, veral daai kappies en doitjies...

Char.	Keystroke 1	Keystroke 2	Unicode	Char.	Keystroke 1	Keystroke 2	Unicode
á	Alt+0225	Alt+160	00E1	Á	Alt+0193	-	00C1
â	Alt+0226	Alt+131	00E2	Â	Alt+0194	-	00C2
è	Alt+0232	Alt+138	00E8	È	Alt+0200	-	00C8
é	Alt+0233	Alt+130	00E9	É	Alt+0201	Alt+144	00C9
ê	Alt+0234	Alt+136	00EA	Ê	Alt+0202	-	00CA
ë	Alt+0235	Alt+137	00EB	Ë	Alt+0203	-	00CB
î	Alt+0238	Alt+140	00EE	Î	Alt+0206	-	00CE
ï	Alt+0239	Alt+139	00EF	Ï	Alt+0207	-	00CF
ô	Alt+0244	Alt+147	00F4	Ô	Alt+0212	-	00D4
ö	Alt+0246	Alt+148	00F6	Ö	Alt+0214	Alt+153	00D6
û	Alt+0251	-	00FB	Û	Alt+0219	-	00DB

I'm so lucky! I have a keyboard that doesn't need fiddling to get the right keys. I need to find something like this for Lithuanian now. So far, I only have the č (Alt+269), which I need to be able to type my name.

Kaalvoet Klonkie

I found this lovely artwork online entitled “Kaalvoete” byElizabeth Kendall.

I was backing up all my blogs from Multiply. It’s not such a terrible thing. I’m rather enjoying the trip down memory lane. I found a blog which had absolutely nothing to do with Kaalvoet Klonkies, but, as often happens, the comments evolved into a hilarious bout of South Africanisms and Klonkies.

Kaalvoet klonkie basically means ‘barefoot ragamuffin’ – or at least, that’s my interpretation. To me, it holds no negative connotation, though some say it has. My gran sometimes called me a kaalvoet klonkie on those days when I played outside barefoot and grubby.

In the comments of that blog, my Dutch friend,Riete found and posted a poem/song by Gill Steward that gave us a chuckle.

Kaalvoet (pronounced "Carlfoot") Klonkie, the Barefoot Flea
(Tune: On top of Old Smokey) (Johannesburg 1970)

I'll tell you the story
Of Klonkie the flea
Who dabbled his tootsies
In my cup of tea.

'Twas there that I saw him
And asked him his name
And now I will tell you
His reply to the same -

"Sir, my name is Klonkie,
the barefooted flea
And I'm fishing for tackies
In your cup of tea.

Some fleas wear pink tackies,
And some fleas wear blue,
So I'm fishing for tackies
And any will do,

Because as you'll notice
My tootsies are bare
And it makes it much harder
To run through your hair!"

So that is the story
Of Klonkie the flea
Who's still fishing for tackies
Although there's no tea!

‘Tackies’, incidentally, are what South Africans call trainers, tennis shoes or sneakers. We’ve always joked about “…butmy fleas have pink tackies!” This brought back memories :)

Kaalvoet Klonkie

 

I found this lovely artwork online entitled “Kaalvoete” by Elizabeth Kendall.

I was backing up all my blogs from Multiply. It’s not such a terrible thing. I’m rather enjoying the trip down memory lane. I found a blog which had absolutely nothing to do with Kaalvoet Klonkies, but, as often happens, the comments evolved into a hilarious bout of South Africanisms and Klonkies.

Kaalvoet klonkie basically means ‘barefoot ragamuffin’ – or at least, that’s my interpretation. To me, it holds no negative connotation, though some say it has. My gran sometimes called me a kaalvoet klonkie on those days when I played outside barefoot and grubby.

In the comments of that blog, my Dutch friend, Riete found and posted a poem/song by Gill Steward that gave us a chuckle.

Kaalvoet (pronounced "Carlfoot") Klonkie, the Barefoot Flea
(Tune: On top of Old Smokey) (Johannesburg 1970)

I'll tell you the story
Of Klonkie the flea
Who dabbled his tootsies
In my cup of tea.

'Twas there that I saw him
And asked him his name
And now I will tell you
His reply to the same -

"Sir, my name is Klonkie,
the barefooted flea
And I'm fishing for tackies
In your cup of tea.

Some fleas wear pink tackies,
And some fleas wear blue,
So I'm fishing for tackies
And any will do,

Because as you'll notice
My tootsies are bare
And it makes it much harder
To run through your hair!"

So that is the story
Of Klonkie the flea
Who's still fishing for tackies
Although there's no tea!

 

‘Tackies’, incidentally, are what South Africans call trainers, tennis shoes or sneakers. We’ve always joked about “…but my fleas have pink tackies!” This brought back memories :)

A lesson in judgement

We had our farmer's market today and I was asked to do an honesty box for the market aside from the usual honesty box in the shop.

The honesty box is simply where we put out fresh produce from the farm and people pay what it's worth. It's totally unmanned. I just check it periodically and top up the veg. 

I had put out some veg, walked away for half an hour and, on returning, saw it looked very empty. The spinach was missing. I had chosen this spinach because of it's lush shine, so it was noticeable at a distance. I looked in the money jar.... 1 cent lay there. My heart sank. I felt an overwhelming sadness at the state of society. It was with a heavy heart that I went back to the garden to find goodies to top up the box. While in the garden, I got some carrot for the horses.

I had just put the rhubarb and radishes in the box, then walked through to chat to Oscar and Chunky when I was approached by the lady in the next door stall. She explained that a woman had come and was worried that the spinach wouldn't be there when she got back, but she had to go and get change for the box. I nearly cried! My faith in humanity was restored and I learned a valuable lesson in judging too quickly. People are amazing! :)

Whatever comes next

So many years ago, when I took my reading training wheels off and graduated to 'grown up' books, one of my first books was "Moonraker's Bride" by Madeleine Brent. I was so excited. I had spent a fair amount of time in the children's section of the library gazing longingly across at the adults' section.

he book was, in many ways, an eye-opener for me. I learnt of a strange new world, China, of Boxer rebellions, missionaries and how, in a day, a heroine's world can be turned upside down by a twist in fate. To this day, I love Madeleine Brent's books, though, sadly, there aren't many. Each one takes me to a different world and is relaxing pleasure that requires little thinking.

Going back to that one book, there is a part where the old lady who looks after our heroine and the mission is busy dying. They were struggling to feed themselves and the orphans in their care. The old lady's advice was, "When you don't know what to do, just do whatever comes next." With all the arrogance of youth, I thought that was rather a stupid thing to say. If you don't know what to do, how on earth would you know what to do next? How can you do something when you have no idea what to do?

Thankfully, though, the advice stuck with me. I've had many opportunities to remember it when the storms of life have seemed to pick me up like a piece of flotsam and toss me down onto the rocks. When my mind is buzzing with problems and 500 solutions, none of which seem to be the answer, it is this advice I turn to. Simply doing something... anything, however mundane... is often the catalyst that moves me into solutions. It is a peculiarly mind-clearing action.

On the subject of mind-clearing... What do you do when your mind is clear - too clear? As a writer, I have a very up-close and personal relationship with that status. Blank screen, blank page, blank mind. A frustration that reaches deep when I know I have so much to say!

"When you don't know what to do, just do whatever comes next."
When you don't know what to write, just write whatever comes next. This is when I delve into the mundane if I have to and mundane is something I have plenty of. The thing with mundane is that defies my attempts to keep it mundane. It is the most remarkable thing. I would start out simply describing my day, a remembered scene from long ago, an object, a character in my book and before I know it, I'm embellishing those thoughts with flights of fancy and sometimes not-so-fancy flights.

Isn't this a little like those word association games we used to play? Shall we call it thought association?

By Corrianne Lasevicius (aka Tint)

Technorati Tags: writing,books,review,author

Road hog!

Never a dull day! I started the day crushing eggshells for the chickens. Lord Meath cracked a joke about me possibly having to sleep in the kitchens, as the lock and door handle had been removed for repair. I love encounters with him. I grabbed a bowl and headed off to the walled garden to pick raspberries. Sounds fun, doesn't it?

The trouble is that I'd already picked all the easy ones! The central row of bushes remained. It was suggested that I use a walking stick or umbrella to pull the branches towards me for picking. Great idea... if I had either of those items. Never one to let a bush get me down, I decided to go into the bushes. Again... sounds easy, right? They're as tall as me and planted really close together. I now know were to hide if I want to disappear from society! Oh... and I got my first horsefly bite today... ungrateful little beast. I was gently trying to shoo it off too. I don't swat and kill like everyone else does. Hmph!

My next task was to fill the honesty box (basket, really). I was commended for the good job I did with it yesterday - throwing in a little idle boasting, though it's really not much to boast about.

It's basically a basket with pickings from the walled garden that people can take and pay what they feel it's worth. Have I mentioned before how wonderful it is to see your 'food' through from the planting to the harvesting and cooking?

Back to our road hog... While I was busy picking beetroot for the basket, Jurgis let me know that it was time to move the pigs. They love beetroot leaves (normally) and could I pick some to help lure them. They've been in the pig 'maternity ward' up to now - the sheds - and it was time to put them back into their paddock... a separate one from where the piglets are currently frolicking. Maeve first, as she was the one most likely to give us strife. And did she give us strife?! She saw her opening and trotted off. It was just Jurgis, Sayo and myself, feebly waving our beetroot around that Maeve decided to totally ignore. Out she went... on the road to the shop, which is where the public come in for their very dignified visit to Killruddery. I freaked! I had visions of mommies with babies in prams seeing this huge tonnage of road hog advancing on them. That Maeve is friendly and is only enjoying an outing would not occur to them, I'm sure. I called for help and was told, "Don't worry. Maeve knows her way around." Only later did I learn that it wasn't her first time out. We eventually headed her off. That was after she took a roadside mud bath (try ushering a mud-coated pig along) and managed to get me shoved into a nettle patch, at which point my thoughts towards her turned as muddy as she was. We finally got her to her paddock and went to let Lisa out - this time, making sure all escape routes were secure. We were busy letting Lisa out when Maeve strolled up to see what was happening. They discovered the pile of discarded feed off to one side and nothing we did would move them until they were good 'n ready. I personally think they were just putting us in our place. *Mentally adds pigs to the list of fairly uncontrollable animals along with goats, sheep and cattle* I think that's what makes them so interesting though :)

After spending a while watching Sophie and her piglets, we went off for some lunch, which turned out to be a serving of popcorn each washed down with Coke. Uh huh... yes... healthy, I know...

I was weeding under the mustard after lunch. Now let me get it down for the record. If it were up to me, I'd buy my mustard, decently packed in a little metal tin or bottled. Them seed pods are sticky and reaching in among them did nothing for my glorious hair do - which needs help on the best of days. I was fully sporting the highland beast look by the time I was done.

Dinner tonight was a delicious concoction of fresh garden peas, fresh garden courgettes, fresh garden garlic (getting tired of the freshness yet?), onion and not-so-fresh supermarket chicken over pasta. It was yummy. I washed it down with the last of my South African wine. Now that was good!

Wreathed in mists

As I gaze out at the Little Sugarloaf over the quiet gardens, I see the 'ghosts' of yesterday's children laughing and frolicking on the lawn. Time (and weather) is a fleeting thing, is it not?

It was a glorious day yesterday. One father was rolling down the hills with his little ones. He looked bashful when he caught me watching. I commented that every garden needs a hill...and it does!

Walking through the veggie garden, the bees and bumble bees making the most of the sunny weather, I could almost See the peas growing fatter. I gave the chickens their treat and went on to the pigs. The piglets were out romping. We can't get enough of watching them. Rough-'n-tumble play in the mud. They're just kids really. It's remarkable to think they're only a little over two weeks old.

Ah.... we're in such a beautiful place and truly happy. I love my work, the people, the place. I go for walks in the forest and forage for the most fascinating mushrooms. We can walk the same path five times a day and see something new every time.

The mists of our lives, so far, have been fickle. Perhaps, just this time, the mists will clear to find us still here, happy in our new reality where the sun shines from within the soul even when the skies are grey.

In defence of praise

Who doesn't like being praised for their work? Is it an area exclusively reserved for bosses? What is it about praise that makes people so uncomfortable?

It's something I started noticing when I passed my colleagues doing what I thought was a spectacular job. I told them so and got a response that implied that they thought I was mocking them. I definitely wasn't. I was genuinely impressed with their work.

I praised my husband for the excellent job he did for me (a small, but, for me, important task). He thought I was being sarcastic. I now wonder if it's the way I say it...

Telling my boss that her organisation of an event was very impressive ended up looking as though I was 'sucking up'.

Is there no easy way to praise? I know I'm guilty of not always accepting praise with grace. Wouldn't it be nice if we could all accept praise with a simple and gracious, "Why, thank you!"

A blog worth reading on the Power of Praise can be found here.

Hmmm... The smell of oranges bring peeled in a room must be one of lives pleasures!

*Sneaks in and waves*

Hi everyone! So so sorry I abandoned you! Well, I didn't really abandon you. It's just that our internet has been down a lot and I'm not often home at the computer and when I am, I share the pc with Jurgis.

I've had so much to post! I spend a lot of my day thinking of things to write about, but never get around to it. Unlike when I was in Sao Paulo, I don't carry writing materials with me. No sit down on a metro to write happening here.

Christmas is done and gone. Our tree was a gorgeous moss-covered branch on which I hung the most sentimental ornaments we'd brought along. It was pretty. Tatiana was here with us, which was wonderful! The photo up top is of her and Jurgis messing around. It was good to see =) She's gone back to work now and I miss her, but at least we're in the same time zone. We had such fun together. She's so easy to laugh with.

I thought of trying to catch up and fill everyone in on life here, but didn't know where to start, as there's been SO much I've missed blogging, so what I'll do as I think of it is post a photo or two and blog around that. Seems easier. It may be sporadic though. I've decided firmly that when we next get our own place, if anyone suggests we get wifi, I may have to shoot them.

Hmm... what should I blog about first? Ah well... I'm here to say hello and let everyone know I'm still alive and thinking of you all. Yes, indeed I do!

Christmas 2011

A touching father and daughter scene :)

The rest is still unwritten

Not my photo

I'm sorry. I know you've all been wondering where I am and how we're getting along. Some gave up and left completely, I see. No problem... it's to be expected. Thank you sooo much to those of you who hunted me down! I could fill pages and pages with our experiences. I've missed sharing so much.... I hope to try to share at least a bit, but first, for a few of my closest friends... here's what my story's about.

The short version of why I haven't blogged is that we're often without internet and when we do have internet, Jurgis is often on the only pc we have. When I've had time to get online, it's for checking mail, very brief appearances in social realms and then falling into bed. And then there have been the times when I simply didn't have the heart to post.

When we first arrived here, there were a few people who made comments about "when reality hits". 'Reality' hit almost right away, but not in the way those negative comments implied. I expected that there would be parts of our new life that would not be perfect and I expected that some parts may even rankle. That's life. You take the good and the bad. This place is the paradise I'd dreamed of - barring the mud. Oooooooooooh the mud! *laughing* I could write odes to mud.

Reality check: No snow!!! The sprinkling we had the one day doesn't count. I had that in South Africa. Where's the snow I ordered??????

To understand the rest, you need to know the background of why and how we got here...

About a year and a half ago, I decided to stop waiting for life to help us leave Brazil and take things into my own hands. I posted on the internet that we were looking for work in the UK. Almost immediately, C contacted me. We, as a couple, were a perfect fit for what they needed. Now those who know me well will react the way I did when I saw the 'job'.... estatic. It's the life we were looking for... and if things went wrong, it didn't need to be permanent. I had visualised this place long before I heard from C - right down to the type of grass, a type I'd never seen before! The ravine with the river, the walks, the hills, the trees, even the log cabin. Ask those who know... they had to listen to my ravings =Þ

So the good side is... this is a paradise. I love Wales and the Welsh people in general. Like all nations, there are oddballs, but that comes with the turf, as always.

Reality check: We work very long hours and work very hard - certainly far too hard for the pittance we get paid. We don't say anything because we're not meant to be working or earning, but there it is. Jurgis does just about everything outside on the farm. No job is too menial or tough. The poor man is half his original size... he's lost so much weight. We start before sun-up and seldom finish before 6pm with snatched lunch breaks. We work a minimum of 6 days a week and often put in time on a Sunday too. It is, after all, a farm and life happens here. I do a wide variety of work. I thought my main task would be to take care of the kids, but I don't often deal with them on the basis I thought I would. I clean 3 large triple-storey houses, top to bottom. There's the main farmhouse and the two holiday cottages. Ok, I lied... the one cottage only has two floors, but I can't be bothered changing the sentence. The holiday cottages get, quite literally, spring-cleaned before any new guests come in, around twice a week. Aside from that, I'm cook, seamstress (C doesn't touch needles), webmaster, social network manager (or whatever you'd call that), goatherd (the one job I like lol), gardener. Both Jurgis and I pretty much turn our hands to whatever is needed.

Where is this going? The whole idea is to not be an ocean away from Tatiana (yay! Got that covered!) and to be closer to the Lithuanian embassy, so Jurgis can get his Lithuanian citizenship, which, according to the embassy, is one of the most straightforward cases they have seen. The problem now is just that we're that much too far from London. It's a mission to get in. But... we've made a start.

So there you have it... the (very) long and the short of it. I'm not unhappy. I adore the kids and get on well with C. I can't stand her husband, but hey... I don't have to like everyone, right? The less I say about him, the better. I avoid him now and he keeps out of my way. I think I'm the first person in years to stand up to him. Everyone tiptoes around him. He's rude and treats the people around him like dirt - unless they're customers bearing money. Now, if I can ignore his existance, life is peachy =) If I can't ignore him, I do deep breathing exercises and imagine putting itching powder in his undies drawer.

What does that have to do with the title? I've started a new chapter in my life. The page is unwritten. It's up to me to create this chapter and creating I am! I'm keeping an eye open for jobs, particularly in southern Ireland. There are plenty I could fill, the challenge being that if I were accepted, I'd need to go in for an interview, so I'm holding off for now.

Anyhow... enough waffle. If you're still reading, you need a Noddy badge... honestly! Once again, thanks for still being there and for all the unstinting support!

Where did the time go?

I promised to come online and post volumes describing our experience in Wales, but I've only had time online in 10 minute snatches. The computer is down in the main house. In a couple of hours, the family will be back and we'll be offline - at least, until we can get a laptop or something up in the cabin. I'll catch up properly then.

Thinking of you all and missing you. Thanks so much for all your support and encouragement through this rather dramatic change in our lives!

We see stars!! Many stars!! Clear, dark skies!!

Coity Bach

Here I am in the beautiful Brecon Beacons. This is a really quick post with no photos. I have to figure out how to get my photos into my blogs without installing software on this pc.

We're on our own here now. The family have gone on their holidays. The sun is still shining... that cold front that was promised hasn't hit us yet, which is something of a relief. As I sit here, the birds are fluttering around the feeders outside my window. I've done the milking and taken the goats to the top field. There's SO much to do! But it's all good. Our cabin is just that... a cabin. It's tiny, but as it will be used, quite literally, just for flopping exhausted into bed at night, all's good.

Thank you Soooooooo much to Kippy for the awesome, amazing, splendiferous box!! It goes well in the cabin and the box has proven invaluable in there too. Oh... and Tat got her portion *laugh* Katey, thank you for the sugar overload. We needed it to stay awake and it helped. It was warming too for the cooler nights. Please thank your mom for me. I assume she did the knitting. Those gloves are going to be Well Used! They're perfect! The card was sweet too.

In all, the Welsh people are wonderful... so, so friendly. Everyone, wherever we go, is ready for a chat. They're open, helpful, friendly, smiley... what's not to like?

Coity Bach, the farm, has two holiday cottages. They're part of my duties here. We have people in both cottages. Oh they're lovely! If you ever come to Wales, you must stay in the cottages! The walks are delightful and the scenery spectacular. We have our own Black Mountain, Table Mountain, Sugarloaf Mountain. I'm inundated with new names. The goats... charming creatures ('cept when Lilly kicked the bucket of milk over me), the pigs, the horses (Tat's in horse-heaven), the geese, chickens, peacocks - yes, even the peacocks are charming. I don't know why people complain about them.

Anyway... got to dash. I'll try and get back on here as soon as I can to catch up with everyone and post photos. Missing you all!

Last post in Brazil

Oooh! That sounded good!

I get a daily post with new Portuguese vocabulary to learn. Yesterday's word was paciencia (patience). Very appropriate! I wondered if they're snooping *looks around for hidden cameras* Today's got even better!


Ah... that about says it, right? We leave home in about an hour. This is it!

Pizza on paper plates

I forgot we had paper plates. How nice! Paper plates are super rare here. They usually use plastic plates. I found paper plates once and bought a huge quantity... just because. I hate eating off plastic plates. Paper plates take me back to braai's and picnics, an essential for any event, from school fétes to camps.

Tonight's grandiose supper is pizza... on paper plates... with cheap, fizzy wine, what they call a 'frizzante'. Food fit for a king *laugh* Just before we leave, we have finally found the perfect pizzaria. Thick, soft, light bases with a filled border and Loaded with topping... super fresh and a quick delivery. Typical.

We're all packed. At least... what we can take is packed. Funny thing about possessions. I keep hearing things like... you can't take it with you when you die anyway. Trouble is, many possessions are tied up with experiences and memories. Sure, you can take a photo or three and sure you can remember, but it's somehow not the same. I learned that once before, a truly tough lesson. I'm doing it again. This will be the last time I ever do something like that. Never again. Ever.

But... we're packed! What a relief! Now we can relax a bit, though at 8pm, I'm yawning my head off. Weather here right now is 29ºC (can't be bothered to convert - just believe me, it's hot!) and tomorrow's going to be hot too and raining. It was raining here this afternoon. Many parts of the city are flooded. Thank goodness we weren't flooded for a change. The pizza delivery boy managed to come! London will apparently be cool and... guess what.... wet! Brecon's the same. We'll be going to the airport laden with warm clothes. The trip should be fun.

This will be my last post on this end of the Atlantic. I'll see you all on the flip side. I don't know what our access to the internet will be like on the other side. I'll go online with my mobile, though, depending on connectivity. Thank you all so, so much for your support through all this!! You will never know how much it's meant to me!

Data backups interfere with social life. Scientific study concluded.

Going North!!!

Start:	Oct 9, '11 3:30p
End:	Oct 10, '11
Location:	Guarulhos to Heathrow

Well, north-east(ish) =)

Sharing the mood

*****
Yes, we can!

Weeeeeeeeee!!

I changed my address details on ebay this morning, so that I could buy and ship a couple of adapter plugs (ah... small things) and got a message from ebay: "Congratulations on your move to the UK!" Got all jumpity, skippity excited *happy grins*

I shed a few tears when I said goodbye to the kidlets this week. Little Zara has started walking. Her mom was so excited to show me. When she has her walking harness on, she holds the 'leash' out in front of her (alone) and walks. She won't walk without it. She just needs the feeling of the harness around her chest to feel secure enough to take those steps. I think she's much like many of us... we need to *feel* as though we're being helped/supported to progress, even if the help or support is an illusion. I was so happy for them though. This child is special and any progress is a miracle. When I arrive, she demands her 'lesson'. Too cute.

Right now, I have two cases packed and sooo much more to organise. The weather has been agonisingly hot with temps sitting around 35ºC. Today, the sky pulled over. 3pm was dark outside with a deep purple sky. Apparently we're heading into a wet week. I'm so glad I'm not teaching!

*yawns* Think a cup of coffee and some biscuits are a good idea....

"A better world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day I can hear her breathing" Arundhati Roy

Finally!

I write daily, sometimes a little... sometimes pages full. I carry a little notebook around with me for just that purpose. The trouble is that much of my writing lately has been about something I couldn't share... yet. Jurgis made me 'sign' a pact of silence until we had confirmation. We've had too many false alarms in the past.

We've, once again, been in a mess of paperwork. I applied for a visa and was rejected. I can't tell you what a blow that was. I went around for a day quite literally not able to breathe. It seemed as though I was doomed to spend my life dreading red tape of any sort.

Being stubborn and determined, I reapplied. Until the moment the passport and related visa was in our hands, I had no idea if I was approved or not and we were running out of time. It was monumental. I had to take the risk and buy our tickets in advance (what if I wasn't approved??). I had to prove conclusively that I had no intention of living illegally in England. That is not as easy as it sounds when you have no 'real' job and no real family ties to keep you in a country. Luckily, my wonderful students came through for me with letters of reference and confirmation of my work - some were even really flattering. I'm saving them all, of course! Some are in a position to pack quite a political punch.. whew! They were brilliant! I will miss them terribly. Just when I had the nicest group of students a teacher could wish for, I'm moving on.

I've been approved! The visa arrived today, delivered by DHL. Thank goodness the crowd at the British consulate used their heads. We've been terrified, as the local postal service has been on strike for more than a month now and the visa... with all my original documents... had to be shipped from Rio de Janeiro. Talk about nail-biting. To get to Rio, 6 hours drive away, took more than 2 weeks and our flight is booked for next week!

We're going up to the UK, specifically Wales. Yes, I imagine we'll spend quite a while trying to pronounce the place we're in. The farm is in the beautiful Brecon Beacons National Park in South Wales. Green. We'll be surrounded by green and we laugh that the worst traffic we'll have to deal with is a tractor blocking the road. Ah bliss!! The photos above are taken from the farm house. We'll be in a log cabin near the farm house. It's brand spanking new. We've watched the building in photos. Those who've known me long will know my longing to live in a log cabin.

Tatiana has taken some time off and will be with us for the first 10 days of our stay there. I'm beyond excited. I've missed that girl so, so much!!! We'll be together at Christmas too... and New Year... and... I'm getting all worked up again!

So... we fly on Sunday, October 9th. Our trip is already planned down to the last detail... except for the piles. I'm surrounded by piles of STUFF. Where did all this stuff come from??? We have a couple of cases packed. This weekend, we'll finish packing. This week is my last week teaching before I go. I'm excited beyond words... but at the same time a little heart-sore. As I said, my current students are amazing. I'll miss them. I hope they'll stick around as friends. I have an idea they might just do that. For now, I go down streets and think, "This is the last time I'll.... "

Ends and beginnings... changes...

"Remember that to a drowning man, treading water is success! But how much more successful if every kick takes you a little closer to shore?" ~ Jim Bouchard

Lost in translation

My shadow in the river canal.
The sharp mid-morning light shows it as clean, which is nice. I cropped a good deal of over-exposed concrete wall from the top of the picture.
This is to give you an idea of how deep it is.
When it rains, it overflows and floods the highway running alongside.
Sunday morning and I'm sitting watching Youtube videos with no inclination whatsoever to attend to the pile of dishes, pile of ironing, pile of laundry, pile of papers, pile of... well, you know...

It started with me briefly visiting the social network sites to see if anything new was happening. Facebook - check. G+ - check. Twitter - ... oh wait... huge miscommunication! Twitter in English is bad enough. I usually only follow people who at least attempt complete sentences. Thing is, I do know some Brazilians and they're there too. My Portuguese is stellar, of course *koff* but my Portuguese in Twitter unspeak? Ha! A guy posted that I had 'accepted' his story and I haven't even spoken to him in a few months. I responded, thinking he had a bit of a cheek mentioning me that way. Turns out he was just rejoicing that a magazine had published his story and was sharing his joy. Oh... Oops! What a difference a tilde makes! A tilde, by the way, is a common part of Portuguese, like the ã in São, for those who are wondering.

Then a colleague posted this video. It's hilarious! Welcome to my world! Note, it is adult humour for the most part, so I wouldn't watch it with the little ones, though they wouldn't understand it anyway.

~~~~ ~~~~

~~~~ ~~~~

And then I watched this... also funny and So true!

~~~~ ~~~~

~~~~ ~~~~

Ooh! And on the subject of language, I wanted to show you the latest gem I found in one of the clothing chains here. If it weren't for the sequins, I swear I'd buy it to befuddle the world (outside of Brazil, that is).

WildEarth TV

http://www.wildearth.tv/petes-pond-mashatu-botswana-africa-waterhole-wildlive-webcam-live
Go NOW! There's a heard of impala at the pond!

We've got massive doses of boer-maak-'n-plan-heid!! Yep... that's us!

Maybe... just maybe...

Can you see me? Let's face it, that is an odd way to catch some sun!


I really, really want to get caught up with everyone and even post a blog or 10. I'm making no promises, but lets see how far I get with it this weekend.

So how is everyone? Summarise people! Summarise! *laughing* I've just lectured a student today on keeping his sentences short. Last night, I had to check through a document by a legal personage. Oh my word... they love long sentences!!! Add the Brazilian factor to that and you get entire third-of-a-page paragraphs that are one long sentence. Makes my brain hurt!

The magic button — Make Everything OK

http://t.co/Z0wY6v8
Just click... that's all =)

Hmmm....

I know it's wasteful, but there are few things that are quite as luxurious as well lathered hair. I love the feel of the lather in my hair and then the hot water washing the suds out.



I'm grateful for my hair 

Snippets of life

My walk to work - or at least one of them.
I head to a 2 hour evening class in an industrial area.

My lunchtime student, the psychologist, is off to Spain (which explains my presence in blogland today). Brazilians don't like the winter, especially this lady. We had a gorgeous week of what I'd love as summer though. Warm, sunny days with a light breeze. It's cooling rapidly now. Rain to come this afternoon.

I have enough chicken soup in the pot to feed an army. Got some pasta and mince cooking as well. We haven't had that for a while. Evenings are always a challenge. I don't have any evenings free right now. The weekend ran away with me, so I'm doing a bulk cook-up now.

The guys at Gameloft are trying to persuade me to buy a new mobile. I got to play with the latest Samsung Galaxy in class *drools*

Multiply used to send personal messages to my mailbox. I see I missed a couple : (  I wasn't ignoring anyone. Promise!

I have a new 'friend' on my walks. It's hard to keep her attention though. She's very focused...






This little cat can be found at any time sitting meditating or scheming (you decide which) on the birds. I stood there for about 10 minutes photographing her from all angles. She didn't even twitch a whisker! When I get her attention, though, she is the sweetest, most affectionate little thing. The owner seems to collect and sell all kinds of junk. Both cat and birds seem very well cared for.

I have learnt that a good keyboard is worth its weight in gold! I will not take my keyboard for granted. I will not take my keyboard for granted. I will not take..... The letters had worn off my keyboard in far too short a period of time. The shop told us to contact Microsoft (it's a MS keyboard), which we did. They told us to ship the keyboard to them. While we waited, I used one of those little silicone keyboards you can roll up. It was a Portuguese keyboard, as opposed to the Brazilian abnt2 that I was used to. The keys had No Logic at all! I finally got my keyboard back *hugs keyboard* alçfkjdsçlk r48twpagw Never hug your keyboard.

Winter = naartjie season!!

Live your life each day as you would climb a mountain. An occasional glance toward the summit keeps the goal in mind, but many beautiful scenes are to be observed from each new vantage point. ~ Harold B. Melchart

Sunny Saturday

It wasn't a terribly exciting day today. I hauled out my leather and decided to finally make the cover for my teaching folder. I love leather. The thread I am using is, I think, older than I am. It's just always been there in Ouma's thread box. Countless times as a child, I'd sort the threads, tucking away loose strands and neatening the box. This spool of thread was always there and yet, it's as good as new. I don't know why it was originally bought. Ouma spoke of working leather as a young girl, but I never saw her using leather.

My Firefox wants to update to version 5. Poor Tat is having so many problems with it, so I'm a little leery. Another programme needed to update and, sure as little green apples grow on trees, it now has its own toolbar wanting to be installed. Oh no you don't. I was just thinking that if every programme's toolbar was allowed, I'd end up with no visible browser!

Supper tonight was pizza... the best pizza I've made in ages. Totally worth it and way better than the bought pizza, except for one minor issue... I had to make it. I love having food made for me!

I tried browsing Multiply earlier today, but eventually gave up. Instead, Tat and I went 'window shopping'. Don't you just love technology? We shopped for trainers. Wow... the variety out there?! Actually, I found an interesting video on buying trainers that talks about your arch and how people with different shaped arches run or walk. You can see it here.

As I typed the title to this blog, I remembered it was sunny today, which reminded me that I hung out washing, which reminded me that the washing is still out there... Oh dear. It's after midnight... a bit late to stumble around by torch light taking down jeans. Oh and the neighbour again has undies on the roof, this time in a bowl! I found the photo I took last time though *grins*

Many of our fears are tissue paper thin and a single courageous step would carry us clear through them ~ Brendan Francis

Fardling fiddlesticks!!

I have just gotten off the phone with Paypal. Did you know Paypal has extended its reach to other countries, Brazil included? That should be good news, right? Ha! My Paypal account is an old, US based, one that I set up to be able to receive payments from my US and Canadian clients. Now that Paypal has opened up in Brazil, I can no longer do my banking in English!! Argh!

Thankfully, some soul out there in 0800-world heard the desperation in my voice and transferred me to Paypal USA where I got to speak to two super-friendly, helpful customer services folks. Apparently no one can choose their language on Paypal any more. In the end, I'm frustrated with Paypal, but the manic edge was taken off my mood.

While I was on hold (did you know that toll-free numbers have no urgency to talk to you?), I surfed the news.... nice, read-worthy articles today:

Dog and man unites (tissue warning!)

And South Africa's very own Sardine Run!

~~~~~

~~~~~
The great HRM (just for you, Marianne) was outside sanding down timber he found to make some herb boxes for upstairs. If we can find enough, Romany may even get himself a kennel built.

Otherwise, it's all in all been a quiet sort of day in which I did much of what I didn't plan to and nothing of what I did plan. Funny how it works that way.

The man who was father to me

Father's day just idled by and I found myself in a time of remembering...


Jim was my grandfather, a step-grandfather, at that, but he was father to me. I wanted to blog all he was, but I remembered I did it before: My hero  I read through that blog and found myself unexpectedly emotional. I loved him. He gave so much and asked so little in return. His was the calming voice when everyone was upset over the latest family ruckus. He wasn't cuddly or huggy or anything. He was just there... and strong... dependable.

So I hung out my Glook. Just because.

This past week, I was wearing my coin. I still remember the day I picked it up. I was about 5 or 6, I think. Jim and I were walking down Rink Street. I don't remember where we were going. I saw the coin and picked it up. "What's that you have there? A lucky penny?" He told me I couldn't spend it, but that it was special anyway. I clutched my 10 pence all the way home. There, Jim drilled a hole in the coin and put a chain on it. The chain was miles too long for the little girl, but perfect for the woman I am now. It's strong, dependable, no-frills, just as he was... and made with love.

Fiddle faddle

A blog of random nothingness...

On Sunday, we considered calling Ghostbusters. The neighbour was sounding a bit like a banshee. She was clearly unhappy with the men in her life (two adult sons and a husband).

A colleague in Germany wrote a brilliant blog on the work I (ok, we) do: What is TEFL?

It looks like I'm losing my little girl (student) because of a time clash. It breaks my heart. I'm fond of her, just not fond of her father. At all. On many levels.

I suggested yesterday that Jurgis writes and publishes a book called "The World's Worst Puns". It's sure to be a best-seller. Gems like: "You're a plant. You stalk people on Facebook, then you leaf." I almost cried, except that crying, wailing and gnashing of teeth in a Metro is undignified. I restricted myself to groaning and rolling my eyes.

They apparently cut our water on Sunday. We were blissfully unaware of it thanks to the roof-top cistern, except... We turned our taps on yesterday morning to brown sludge. Thanks Water Dept. It made for a day of fun drinking, showering, etc. Our water today is down to a weak tea colour. Our filters are totally blocked. Not a happy camper here. If you want to see what our water system here involves, I've written about it before here.

Oh! Before I forget! I wanted to tell you about a new site I found called Quietube. You put the button on your bookmarks toolbar and when you're viewing a Youtube or Vimeo video, you can click on Quietube and watch the video without some of the rather awful comments or so-called 'related' videos that often aren't related at all. If you want to send a link to a video to someone, but don't want the ghastly comments to show, Quietube solves that problem. Nice! Here is an example I was watching this morning.

Oi Vey!

A photo from Monday... I was waiting a few minutes before going in to my student when this guy pulled up at the lights. Biker dude crossed with junk hauler. He had a wagon attached to his bike that he had piled high with the type of scrap the cart guys usually haul around. Not an everyday sight, I can assure you.


Apologies for the poor quality of the photo. It was a rush job.

Sunday - a day of random daftness...

The neighbours have a basket of underwear on their roof. I don't want to know why. Actually, I do. What on earth..... ?! I can take a photo. No... no... definitely not. You'll have to use your imagination.

The youngsters at Tat's centre have gotten it into their heads to inhale helium. And here I thought teenagers were clever. No... wait... they're not teenagers! They're adults!!! The future's in dire trouble.

A student wants his demo class... on a Sunday Afternoon??!! Ugh! Who named it a weekEND anyway?

Neighbours are trying to have a conversation with their dog - a big random-breed dog - barking incessantly between them... at us and the bbq'ing undies-on-the-roof neighbours. How can anyone have a conversation like that?

The bbq'ing neighbours are just winding up for what, I think, will be a long night of raucous yelling. Have you ever heard a tree full of wild parrots squawking? It sounds like that... without the pleasantness associated with bird calls.

Calling all inventors!

Not my socks! My pile is bigger and all boring colours, which makes sorting harder.

I will pay good money for a sock-folding machine. Really!

Translation needed, please

Personally, I can't stand Shakespeare. I spent a large part of my high school years avoiding him like a plague. Only lately have I become amused, not by the plays, but by the way Shakespeare messed with the language.



Tatiana sent me this little snippet this morning:

You think reading Shakespeare is hard? Imagine the poor people in a couple of hundred years time, who will be reading " So, like, I was like maaate I'm gonna shank yuu so ard bruv! and den Tairone was like "you havin' a bubble," and I was like "No mate, are you thick doe! but Shanesse was like OMG doe, Actual LOL innit! because she got a text from Brandon who said that Christa was like, on the chunder train after downing a whole bottle of Voddy and Strongy B......."

I defy you to translate that to normal, understandable English (without the help of someone under the age of 18).

I'm late!

Which reminds me of a little anecdote from the past...

I tried working, very briefly, in direct sales. Let's just say, I'm definitely not a salesperson. The area I was assigned for the day was Indian. Durban has a very large Indian community. The calls were based on requests prospective clients put in at the shopping centre. I knocked and the lady of the house opened. "Could I speak to Mr X, please?" "No, sorry. He's late." I said I didn't mind and that he'd requested the visit and perhaps I could start the quote while I waited for him. "No, no. You don't understand. He's late!" Yes, I understood that he was late. Did she think he'd be very long before getting home? She got very flustered, threw up her hands and exclaimed, "He's dead!" I was rather nonplussed by the revelation. Late? Dead? Ah yes! I got it!

I woke up at 6:30am, considering my alarm (buried deep in my handbag) was set for an hour earlier. That left me half an hour to get my sleepy butt out the door. The sky was heavy with clouds. I left saying that I needed to take an umbrella. Guess who left without an umbrella. I arrived at the Metro a little more than damp. On my way home, I bought an umbrella. My last umbrella is in tatters. I miss it, a bright lime green. It was a cheerful umbrella. The new one is a rather boring, sombre beige, but it works. Needless to say, because I was now armed, not a drop of rain fell on the way home. As I walked in at home, the rain started again.

The weather has been freaky. Yesterday, the entire state of São Paulo was without electricity due to a cyclone in the south somewhere. Jurgis mentioned where, but my head was elsewhere. We were lucky in that it wasn't off for too long here. Some people are still without power. Over 100 trees were felled by the winds here in the city. That laundry I'd left out? It was tied in knots on the lines. T-shirts don't do well in knots.

I leave for my next student in half an hour. It's raining. I do categorically not want to go out in this. I love the rain, but a 1 mile trek with trucks whizzing by and spraying slush? Nah.

Girl in rain

I discovered this sweet image by Pentelka on Deviantart. It fits.

*shiver* I suppose getting changed would be a good thing. The heavens opened in a sheet of driving rain as I stepped off the bus. It was almost as though someone up there waited... "Oh look! She's getting off now. Quick! Get the buckets!" And guess who had no umbrella. Why should I? We haven't seen a drop of rain for weeks. Did I mention my wash lines were full of freshly laundered, almost-dry washing? And the cat litter was outside getting some sun?

Tonight I have to prepare some grammar sheets. I am so not in the mood. But... we have a pot of chicken soup waiting to be heated, so all is well. I'm having some serious schedule conflicts. Everyone wants classes at their time, which is totally understandable and wouldn't be a problem if everyone's preference could be spread out. I need a clone. I have been introduced to another South African girl who's teaching and wants to branch out as a private teacher. I need to meet her still. I hope she's worth her salt as a teacher, so I can pass some work her way. Time will tell. The first problem there is finding time to meet her. Between her schedule and mine, a miracle is needed.

Off to get that soup now...

Student cancelled. I'm giving myself a fly-by hour on Multiply. Let's see how quickly I can get through the blogs. Good speed-reading practice =Þ

Wolwedans

An old school friend posted a photo of me in high school... pigtails 'n all. This sent me down memory lane, so I dug up an old blog, "Did you know...?"  I was reading the blog and comments when Jurgis spotted the Chappies bubble gum in the picture, which led, in turn, to many more memories - funny how that works.

Hm.... I can smell the Chappies now. I believe they now have all sorts of flavours, but, to me, there's only one Chappies flavour. Of course, eating bubble gum, be it Chappies or Wacky Wicks, was absolutely verboten, which, of course, meant we ate them whenever humanly possible.

The conversation drifted aimlessly among childhood memories... Dagwoods, the corner café where I'd stock up on Chappies, TV programmes like Knersus and Haas Das se Nuuskas. Knersus was a particularly dumb programme, but leaves me wanting to name my next dog Knersus just for fun. He was a pterodactyl whose sole aim in life was to catch a bunny for supper. He shared luckless plotting with his 3 pairs of false teeth.


Of course, no meander down memory lane would be complete without spending an afternoon or evening in front of the radio, listening to Springbok Radio, with a comforting cup of coffee. I used to keep my ears open for the illicitly-enjoyed "Wolwedans in die Skemer" - 'Wolf dance at dusk'. I definitely was not meant to be listening and, to this day, I don't know why I compulsively listened, as I avoid thrillers like the plague. It was a series about an axe murderer. I was a kid. What was I thinking? Jurgis would listen to Squad Cars, a series about real crimes solved by the South African police, jam packed with action and screeching tyres - typical boy fare. Actually, I did listen to a snippet online and found myself disappointed that the show wasn't complete. I think I should have listened to Squad Cars instead of Wolwedans back then. I don't know... I think it was the compelling voices and acting. It's one thing acting on television, but voice acting takes special talent. To be able to allow the listener to picture the emotions and actions just with sound is incredible.

I found a very rare clip of Wolwedans in die Skemer online. This is just a snippet.

......

......

Voodoo

My apologies to the squeamish for this photo. It's a good thing we don't have scratch 'n sniff technology. Trust me, it smelt a lot worse than it looks!


For about a week, wherever I walked, there were macumba 'artefacts' lying around - candles in one place, random chickens in another, but none to rival my one walk. Every second block had an entire row of chickens. Is that desperate macumba?

No, it wasn't the prolific macumba that influenced my disappearance... though you never know, right? I got very busy. My weeks were taken up with teaching - with brief stops at home to change clothes or pick up materials, dinner at 9pm and falling into bed. Saturday afternoons were filled with laundry and housekeeping and Sunday found me under a pile of papers preparing for the next week. I think I lost myself somewhere in there.

I've been pretty under the weather, topped, this weekend, by a cold - kindly contributed by the sniffing cashier, I'm sure. I threatened to disinfect my bank card when I got home and forgot. I should sue them for Vit. C tablets... or her. Her... uh... nasal hygiene left a lot to be desired.

I really, really want to write again, but I tend to write 3 lines before my mind wanders and the pen lies idle. I have at least 6 draft posts here that will probably never see the light of day. Their impetus is quite gone.

So, in short, beyond tripping over chicken remains in the road, a very bad diet of snatched snacks at odd hours, blearily looking at my over-full mailbox in the evenings, I have nothing to report. Life, as it is, is continuing at a steady (and, today, noisy) pace. The sun is shining and the neighbours are vying with each other to see who can play the worst music the loudest. Their attempts at barbecues aren't very successful either. I strongly suspect that I'm going to work smelling of wood-smoke this week. I suppose I should take that laundry down before it's totally cured...

So so tired today.... weekend starts in 27 hours. Do I start counting down?

Whenever I turn around

... there is one more thing to do, one more call to make, one more lesson to prepare. Work. Live. Repeat.


Wonder who was the recipient of this particular 'magic'.
'Macumba' is still fairly widely practiced here.
Yes, I have been busy, probably no busier than some of you, but somehow, I just haven't managed to get on top of it. It's good though. Busy keeps me from thinking too much. I have a dozen blogs started in my little notebook. Wonder if I'll ever get them written up. Of course, they're all out of date now, except for those with their feet firmly planted in the distant past.


March Madness and April Foolishness spread to the classroom with one little girl being determined to drive me crazy. I was very proud of her, though, when she showed her dad up with a simple word like 'silly'. She was proud to demonstrate what it meant. Um... not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but still.


Her sister now sits in on all classes. It's either that or a wailing to end all wailing is started. It wouldn't be so bad if she weren't hell-bent on getting to the keyboard. She's a special kid with hydroencephalitis and major health issues, but she's made huge strides this year. She knows the word 'laptop' (go figure) and sit and she tries to say my name. Kudos to her. Most adults can't get it right.

I now teach from 7am (that's not the time I leave home, but the time I start) to 8pm every day except Friday. Saturday, I finish at lunch time, thankfully. Then I play catch up here at home. Sunday is just a heap of papers and lesson plans. I'm prepared for most of the classes. When I feel busy, I just think of my one 'new' student. She's not really new. She's a returning student. She's changing jobs, getting married and finishing her MBA all in the next couple of weeks. Insane! Oh and that's besides putting in many hours on an intensive English course.

It's our anniversary on Tuesday. 25 years. That's a long time, let me tell you. I need another medal. We won't be doing anything. I won't be home for that. I may treat us to a pizza for supper. It'll be nice not to have to cook for a change.


The scene that greets me (sometimes) at the metro station
on my way to my final student in the evening.
It rained today... rained quite hard with the usual flooding in some areas and widespread hail. We weren't really affected. I'm tired. Roll on the Easter long weekend. I think I'll vow not to budge out of my chair or bed for the entire weekend. Now there's a plan. Nah. I'll find something to do, like play catch up.

Stars

Friends

stars in our night time

plotting a path

when we can't see the way


* * * * *

Video - Catch a falling star* * * * *

Photograph by Tatiana Lasevicius