The Madd House

It appears that this was to be one of our chill days.   We have one or two of those on our holiday, thank heavens. We watched telly and ate and chatted and then we chatted and ate and watched telly and kept promising ourselves that we would get up and do something.   But that just didn’t happen until much later. Séan, Jerry and I landed up having a late lunch/early supper at the Cattle Baron in Table View.   In hindsight it was educational ‘cos I got to teach/reiterate to Jerry how one behaves when the bread is brought at “fancy” restaurants. On the way home Jerry promised me a game of Monopoly but **sigh**, this was not meant to be.   Chris had been busy searching for a trial version of pc chess for me and in the process ended up with all manner of other things too which meant that the evening was passed with Jerry usurping Chris’ pc and playing exciting games. Sunday saw a chilled morning and then we all headed off to watch Chris work.   He is a professional musician

We headed off, in the morning, to the station at Rondebosch.   Today was the day for our big train adventure.   I can recall, as a kid, reading about children who would travel by train to spend their holidays with cousins Jack and Stella (or similar old British names) and this is how I felt – except we were just going for a short visit to cousin Alan and his wife Gertie. Alan and Gertie live in Jo’burg but own a lovely house in Fish Hoek and I have been promising them for years to visit them in their soon-to-be retirement home on one of the occasions when we’re in Cape Town. After an uneventful journey we arrived at Fish Hoek station and stepped onto the platform, immediately spotting first Gertie and then Alan.   Once Jerry and I had trawled through the smelly subway we were gleefully greeted by my cousin and his wife who had found parking directly across the street from the station. We were rushed, first, to the house for some refreshing Coca-Cola, and where we oohed and

I fitted a walk in – just a wee one around the neighbourhood.   I’ve already managed three so far this holiday – this can only be a good thing. Then the day began properly with an epic game of Monopoly played by Chris, Jerry and I.   What huge fun.   Chris plays like a master with many years’ experience and pretty soon I was out on my bumterara.   As the banker, though, I was still involved at a certain level and got to watch Chris slowly annihilate the small nine-year-old girl to whom said Monopoly was given by Father Christmas.   She didn’t complain, mind you, we just had such fun. The weather was cool (wonderful relief) and so I told Jerry that an “inside” adventure would be on the cards.   This saw us heading off to Canal Walk.   Now I’m not very fond of malls .......... actually, I loathe malls with every fibre of my being, so I put on my octopus hat, I mean my optimist hat off we went. The first order of the day was lunch.   With some rather grotty KFC under the belt

Considering the previous late night it was surprising that we were up as early as we were.   Unfortunately the heat wave had already been up and about for some time and as a result by the time we were bright eyed and bushy-tailed it was unbearably hot.   I had to dash off to fetch my cell phone that had been left at the Maraises ...... don’t ask ...... and stopped off to clean out the flavoured and sparkly water stock off our local supermarket shelves. I had promised Jerry a visit to the Cape Town Science Centre.   This is one of her favourite places in the whole universe so we usually visit the Science Centre at least lots of times while we’re in Cape Town. So in our semi-melted state we set off to find the new venue of the Science Centre.   Only one wrong turn (which we quickly discovered, fortunately) and we retraced our steps – stopped to ask (we are girls, after all) and there it was. We spent four hours, Jerry and I, me sitting at a table in a through draft with a gi

Why do we do this to ourselves?   Rush around like termites before a storm on the last day before Christmas?   I had prided myself that most of my shopping and wrapping was done before we left for holiday and yet somehow there were still one or two pressies to buy and late morning on 24 December saw me sweating through the malls with the other panic stricken shoppers. One could barely move and it appears that panic (of whatever form) makes one lose one’s natural humanness.   People push you out of the way, stand on you, swear at you and just generally behave like piglets in a rather cramped sty.   Fortunately I was on my own (Jerry and Séan had headed off on their own anxiety driven adventure) and so I was able to elbow, swear, scowl, growl and stampede with the best of them.   Huge fun!!! J The day passed and calmed considerably after a while.   Pressies were wrapped and placed under Chris’ tiny tree, sweets and nuts were strategically placed about the house and we slid into

I had promised Jerry that we would go to the beach early in the morning but (1) the day before had been a long one (2) Chris’ foster cat thought new folks in the house was novel and spent the night running up and down us while we tried to sleep (3) I completely forgot to set my alarm clock so ...... ...... I only woke up at 08h00. The beach was really lekker, though.   It was nice and cool and although we saw weather approaching it went west and didn’t stop shining once.   We got a teensy bit sunburnt but nothing we can’t handle. The beach we chose was quite quiet when we got there and gradually got busier.   The amount of larger chicks t hat arrived (some scarily in bikinis) made me feel somewhat skinny and we had a good morning ... except when Jerry got too adventurous and earned a mouthful of sea water. The arvie was spent cleaning up a bit and generally chilling.   Supper at the pub at Mountain View Farm (the name of the pub escapes me) while we watche

It started with a flight that was a little late ...... not badly so, mind you, but just enough to get everyone waiting huffing and sighing. And for once we didn’t have yowling babies on the ’plane ... well, ok just one but only on descent and I’m pretty sure its Mommy didn’t realise that depressurisation can hurt a baby’s ears. But I digress, what we DID have on the ’plane were the Fiddle Family.   Sheesh!   These guys couldn’t sit still.   First their seat was dirty and needed cleaning by the airplane staff, then their little boy needed a booster seat, then they kept standing up and taking things out of their hand luggage whilst making everyone else trying to board wait for them to finish. The entire flight they were like a jack-in-the-box, constantly jumping about and changing places with each other, moving their hand luggage about, pouring expensive mineral water into plastic tumblers, and ooohing an aaahing over pictures of their little boy on some flat tablet machiner

I’m so sick and tired of people whining about the sad loss of our Rhino – the latest two in KwaZulu Natal brings the total deaths so far this year to 389.   In a high-pitched nasal whine:   “What are we going to tell our children?” and “This is just so dreadful.” and “Are they going to wait until they’re all gone before they do something?”   Well I’m saying: Why the hell should “ they ” do anything at all.   What are YOU doing? After having realised that I am not able to throw much money at the various hard working charities and there’s just no way I can climb in my car and head off to the game farms to help to physically catch these cowards I searched my soul to see how I could make a difference and realised that it was simple: boycott all the products from all the countries that deal in and with Rhino Horn. And back to these simpering, whimpering folk who cry crocodile tears with each loss of a Rhino’s life.   Do they drive cars or carry cell phones from Korea and Vietnam?

Tonight sees the last performance of the production “Soos die Kraai Vlieg” which has been put on by Jerry’s school.   And what a production!   The school has really outdone themselves.   The children have been rehearsing since early in the year and each and every single child in the school has participated in the concert.   Every last thing was very professionally handled, including the costumes, singing, lighting, lyrics, choreography, story line, songs, ticket sales, make-up, music, set design, dancing, programs, right down to the details of the welcoming decor in the foyer of the hall to the clearly numbered chairs and rows (with a picture on each letter).   Pre-recorded music and narration was used and many of the children’s talents were put on show.   So, with excitement and a little sadness, the children will put on their last show tonight. And the Moms heave a huge sigh of relief. Gone will be the whirlwind of rushing and junk food and plastering make-up on little faces a

I’m a blatant voyeur.   I can sit/stand for hours in a public place just watching people.   I frequent the social networks and, of course, Blogland just to get a tiny glimpse into people’s lives.   People fascinate me and I love to see what makes them tick and try and understand what type of people they are.   A bit unfair of me, I know, as I personally abhor it when anyone tries to categorise me into any type of social “box”.   But some folks are just so predictable and easy to square away into a certain character. Now that I travel a little further to work than before I get to peek at my fellow drivers. There’s the captain of the glee-club. She looks like an overenthusiastic puppy and happily waves everyone into the lane in front of her.   It’s a surprise she ever gets where she’s going.   Her car is full of all the appropriate charity stickers and she smiles, cries and laughs out loud at whatever is happening on the radio and is perfectly happy in her little bubble. The

Once again I have been confronted with the question: one child or many?   Every day I drive past a grossly overweight woman sitting in the shade of a tree with her baby and toddler whilst her other three raggedy children (somewhere between the ages of 5 and 12) stand in the blazing sun at a robot, begging.   And I’ve tried to involve Child Welfare but their hands are tied and there is nothing they can do about this blatant child labour. But be that as it may I still ponder the question: one child or many?   Séan and I made the decision when I was still pregnant with Jerry that we wouldn’t have more children and if I was able to go back I would make the same decision again in a heartbeat.   There is absolutely no way that we would be in a position to pay double the school fees that we are now paying and that’s just the tip of the iceberg: there are still clothes, uniforms, food, extramural activities, entertainment etc.   The thought of all these things times two or times three m

Ready to rock and roll.   Jerry’s school concert starts tonight – the first of six performances – and my little monkey is sooooo incredibly excited. But I felt awfully sorry for her earlier this week – she hasn’t been well, with a temperature, a sore tummy and a cough and Monday and Tuesday were dress rehearsals during school time. And I would have kept her home but it wouldn’t be fair on her or her schoolmates if there was a gap missing in their dance routine etc. So she had medicine poured down her throat and Séan fetched her early on Monday so she could sleep for the afternoon. Yesterday she went to aftercare and slept for about an hour there. Today she’s a lot better and this morning saw us pack a picnic and the afternoon will look like this: I’ll leave work about ten minutes early (thank you fabulous boss), fetch Jerry from aftercare, take her back across the road to the school, we’ll sit on the field and eat our picnic supper while I put her make-up on, all because t

Last week I had occasion to drive to Alberton.   I used the highways because, although it may not be the most direct route, it is certainly the most sensible.   (‘k, you can stop laughing now – I can be sensible if I try!) On the day of my big Alberton adventure Gauteng saw rain of Biblical proportions accompanied by wind gusting up to 65km/h.   Driving rain and gusting wind saw my little Dragon wafting all over the road (as only a Beetle can) to the extent that 80km/h was the absolute maximum I was able to travel at without taking off and flying through the rain clouds. And I became exasperated at the folk that leapt into my following distance.   Only someone with the brain capacity of a gnat would do something so completely stupid.   Surely, if I leave a gap between myself and the vehicle in front of me, it’s because I know my car and how long it takes to stop ... in the rain ... ?!?!? But of all the peculiar habits I saw the Gauteng road-users displaying – and there wer

Suffice to say that Spring, in all its springiness up and klapped me in the ear.  Big time.  To the extent that I finally got off my ever widening derrier and headed back out into the world of active exercise.  And it is certainly about time, too. Now I've never been opposed to exercise and, in fact, I've been waiting to settle into my new job and assess what time I have available before embarking on any type of routine.  So I esablished that, if there was any spare time to be had (and its up to me to create it), it would be in the mornings.  And this morning saw me heading off to our local Walk for Life branch to join up and chug around the field. Isn't it Run/Walk for Life, I hear you ask?  Well, um, ja.  But let me recount a painful memory and then you will understand why I don't use the "r" word - or even "j" for "jog". Many years ago I attended a gym.  As I say, I enjoy partaking in exercise and I used to be a regular gym attende