Discipline Part 2

We had our very dear friend Val over for dinner last night and after a particularly bad day at work; I decided it was RED WINE TIME. Well the alto Rouge tasted like honey and slipped so easily down my throat with such sweet abandonment I was ready to pack up and go and join a winery just so that I could partake in the Fruits of The Gods every day.

It was one of those days that just made me doubt my sanity. Hence the lack of a blog yesterday.

We sat in our Kitchen and as I sipped my wine I felt myself relax, “ever seen and uptight person change within a few sips of wine?” well that was me. Although the more relaxed I became - the more the sailor came out in me. Alcohol releases my swear button I am sure - because I hear the words coming out my mouth and cringe sometimes. I discussed the day and the fact that it just seemed to get worse and how I nearly picked up my car keys and ran away.

We exchanged stories about work incidents and while doing that Val got onto the subject of how the older generation has the ability to just carry on regardless. This then led us to discuss our childhood and how hard we had it and how lucky the children are of today. One more glass of wine later we were sharing the stupid things our parents used to say to us and comment that we have done exactly the same thing and said exactly the same thing to our children.

I am sure we are born with a Parent button that is pre-programmed and we land up sounding just like our mothers and turn into the morons we accused our parents of being.

Here are a few of my favourites

1. "You will grow horns if you lie down while eating your food."

I used to be so scared of these magical horns appearing on my head when I gave in to the temptation to lie on the lounge floor and eat my sandwich while watching Television that I used to feel my head continuously for the horns. Why did they not just tell me that I would get a stomach ache if I did not sit up and eat?

One time I had such a stomach ache I was sure the horns had done an about turn and grown into my stomach instead. I was convinced I was dying and ran to my mother crying that the horns in my stomach we growing.

I got that puzzled look that we mothers have perfected over the years and she asked me so nicely “Have you poofied today?”

To which I responded, “Mom! How is that supposed to get rid of the horns?” I never did get a reply; no I was given Milk of Magnesia for my efforts and spent the rest of the day running back and forward to the loo! That was the last time I asked my mother about the horns in my stomach or horns anywhere for that matter.

2. “Are you really wearing that?” Well how is a child supposed to respond to that question, we already believed our parents were senile and needed to be put in a home for the aged, and they were not even in their forty’s by then.

I would look at I was wearing and not understand the stupid question. “No mom I am wearing a ball gown with glass slippers; what do you think I am wearing?- I say to myself - Can you not see its jeans with a short top to show off my ever so gorgeous stomach and slippers? (Have you noticed that teenagers do not mind being seen in their slippers in town, but a pair of jeans that aren’t ironed or matching belt – Oh calamity of calamities?) Are you going blind as well now? Here is your stupid sticker! (This last part was never said out loud as I knew I would get a good clip on the ear for being disrespectful).Si Responded "Why what is wrong with what I am wearing?" Only to be given the raised eye borw look that my mom had perfected and would make me rush to my room to change into something more suitable.


3. “Don’t make me stop the Car” How can I make you do anything was my question in my head – and can you not see I am actually sitting here like a saint and my brother Bain is the monster who is causing the bickering; It must be the senility setting in and please go and have your eyes tested!” Of course my response was never, Oh yes please stop the car, I really want my friends to see me being spanked on the side of the road, no it was “NO Dad or NO Mom, I will behave” and I would scowl at my brother and kick him on the shins for getting me into trouble once again.

4. “Do I Look stupid to you?” Now this is not a question you ever answer truthfully- and have you noticed they repeated this queston at least twice - "DO I LOOK STUPID TO YOU?" with an increase in pitch and a look on their faces that can only be described as "You are going to get it Now!"

I learnt at a very young age, you only ever answer this question once in your life with “Yes you do actually!” The inability to walk and sit on a chair properly for a day or two is a good enough incentive to say, "NO you don’t look stupid at all. You look very intelligent actually."

This you also only say once because you are then told that you are being cheeky and get a good clip for your patronizing comment! So it was safer to say the famous saying that children have perfected throughout the years. “I DON’T KNOW?” Which was always met with the stare or glare and the huff of a frustrated parent.

I wonder how parents ever managed to cope as being a parent is one of the hardest professions in the world and I agree it is the most rewarding and I will forever be grateful for my childhood and my children, but really we do become replica’s of our parents and say exactly what they said to us to our children.

I will be adding a few more sayings from our parents and children's responses over the next few days.!!! Good Times.

The Joys of Discipline part 1

This week…. We need to rewind and start again!

I truly feel like I have not slept in ages. Our Madam Jinx is definitely on her last days and discipline is something she just does not understand. Now don’t get me wrong, it’s just a stern word when she jumps onto me while I sleep. I have quite a few scratches on my face from a misplaced paw, but I guess when you "gotta" go you "gotta" go! But every hour on the hour every night,22h00 , 23h00 ,24h00 ….. Till 4h50 when my alarm goes off is not fun.

No wonder I am growling at my children on Skype and been a “meanie” to my friends and to Bernadette, but I also used this opportunity to tell certain people who phone at 4.00am to advise of vehicles arriving at the depot 2 hours early exactly what I think of them… so some good has come out of my disciplinarian streak. The conversation went something like this

“If you ever and I mean ever phone at 4.00am to advise the truck is two hours early, so help me $%# I will come in and I will knock 10 kinds of #$%& out of you….(pause for effect) Do you understand me?” and I walked off clicking on my high heels and I am sure I looked quite a sight 5ft 2inch of me talking up to a 7ft brute of a man who would kill me with one swat of his bear like hands! Wow I must have intimidated him.

Which reminds me of a time when my angel Sarah had really annoyed me, we were at friends house and I had just about had enough with her. She went through a stage where she was grounded for 6 months on and off. She would just finish her grounding and would commit some crime and I would ground her again. Like the time when she was prefect in Junior School and told her Teacher to politely #$ Off, well that was fun.

I duly disciplined her and there was no pointing grounding her as she was already grounded. She would give me this pre-teenager look and scowl and roll her eyes at me which Meant.- “Are you quite finished yet?” I have better things to do with my life than listen to your incessant jabber and warbles!” Yes those days were fun.

Now this one time, I sent her to the bathroom to admonish her and as I was talking to her and chastising her, I realized I think for the first time just how much taller she was than me and I was not having any effect as she had this little grin on the side of her face and was trying very hard not to laugh at me. So I decided it would be more intimidating if I stood on the raised step of the shower to tower over her. Imagine it if you can. Me standing there waiving my finger with such determination, trying to balance on this step of the shower and Sarah watching me and trembling. Trembling with contained laughter not fear!

I was suitably offended and told her not to laugh at me and stepped off the shower step not very stably and slammed the door behind me, which was so effective…. Not. It had one of those door hinges with a hydraulic type of connection so it closes slowly. So much for instilling discipline in my family.

Discipline;
Let’s go back what 40 years. Or further as I have heard of the ways parents disciplined our parents

Castor oil in the mouth if you swore. Well this is just disgusting and I can only imagine that I would have had that taste in my mouth so often I would have thought it was a mouth wash. Not to mention my children, I would have had to stock on a full cupboard full. (I believe in free speech, but sometimes NOT SO MUCH)

Epsom Salts: If a child was cranky they were given Epsom Salts to assist with clearing the stomach. Have you ever tried to get a child to drink or take a tablet they absolutely refuse to take? Your reward for this will be projectile spewing of whatever they have in their mouth followed by more unmentionable liquid.

I admire the parents of days gone by they must have had tremendous power over their children

Children must be Seen and Not Heard: This was my Dad’s favourite saying, one that annoyed me tremendously as my friends were allowed to sit with adults and Bain and I were sent to GO PLAY OUTSIDE,

“what dad, in the traffic?", was often what I thought -”It’s raining you moron!", I would mumble to myself and sulk, but not so they would see me sulking as this was sure to be followed with the most ridiculous statement ever designed by parents.

“DO YOU WANT A HIDING?” Have you ever heard of anything so ridiculous, "Oh yes please Dad, I haven’t had my daily quota of hiding - Oh Please may I go first! And please may I have Bain’s share as well? Dad this is my favourite part of child hood Dad oh please oh please oh please."


Now here is the ironic thing….. I said exactly the same thing to my children and when I heard myself saying it I cringed inside but now release when you become a parent you actually loose Brain Cells and turn into a blithering Moron.

In hind sight and with the troubles of today’s children (Another thing my parents used to say with seriousness – The children of Today… blah blah, and in my day Blah blah!”) I do think we made a mistake in the way we handle our children, when it comes to instilling discipline. A talking to does not have the effect that a smack had with me as I know I tuned out and would watch their mouths move and think to myself as Sarah did that Day. Oh get it over with already!

However I knew not to step over the boundaries as I knew the penalty would be a smack or three on the behind and timeout in the bedroom. I still cringe at the humiliation of having to bend over for a smack - And that thing my parents said "This is going to hurt me more than it will hurt you" Oh please, I used to think, let me have a go at your bottom with a belt and lets see who it really hurts!

"Spare the Rod and Spoil the child" theory and I admit I have administered the smack on the bottom when my children were younger, and hope they will not be permanently scarred.

The children today get off lightly. You ground them; send them to their rooms for time out….. To their rooms where all their toys are, their play stations, their DVD games or Movies. I wish I could be sent to my room for time out!

I thank my lucky stars that my parents believed in Discipline and Respect and even though I cringe at some of the memories, I knew what my boundaries were and what was expected of me, I only hope I passed a little of this on to my children as I used a much softer approach.

However the one lesson I have learnt, children and animals do not respond to my stern voice… no they all laugh at me and do exactly what they want! I need to work on my pitch I think!

Port Edward Weekend Escapades Continues

Mathew and Sarah decided to take Fiona and Little Boy for a walk to the sea just on the outskirts of Val’s Garden. Now my little furry babies have never seen the sea. When Bern and I took them earlier Fiona was so excited to see the water as she is an avid lover of water – until this big white wave crashed on the rocks. Shame she was most perturbed but this water that seemed to be chasing her. Little boy was no different; he acted like a girl and rushed to hide behind Fiona.

Now Matt and Sarah introduced Fiona to the sea by splashing it at her. Fiona loves to bite water so she was extremely involved in eating the splashes; so much so, she accidently bit Sarah and broke the skin. Sarah was devastated and showed Fiona the results of their Game and Fiona was suitably remorseful until the next splash.
So when they returned Sarah was very keen to show us her injuries and was ready for the Mother’s Kiss but all she got was “Well you should have known better, Fiona loves splashes.” So a few drops of Monkey’s blood (red antiseptic medicine) on her finger and it was all fixed up.

We were inundated with moths and they were rather large. Now Val is such a Girl, every time they came near her she would dart off and squirm and shriek like a real Girl, so Matt said to us “ In the History of Man, wait in the History of the Universe, I am sure no one has ever been eaten or killed by a Moth!” To which Val replied, “I don’t care they freak me out. So there I was chasing this moth and trying to rescue it and take it outside only to have it fly out my hands directly onto Val’s Face. Well I do not know who got a bigger fright, Val or the Moth eye ball to eye ball. Val flew off her chair and ran into the passage with the moth attached to her face. She did the toytoy dance with so much enthusiasm; we were tempted to join her.

We managed to rescue Val from the moth but it was too no avail a few hours later the moth made a second appearance in the lounge and Matt and Sarah quickly jumped to its rescue as Val was armed with her size 3 slop to annihilate it. Sarah gently grabbed it and pushed it out the sliding door for it to fly right back in and make a bee line for Val.

Val really needs to change her perfume; it’s an insect attractor not repellant (giggle). Sarah tried to save the moth and come between it and Val yielding her weapon of moth destruction, but the moth was too fast and she could not catch the helpless man eating moth! Sarah just told Val to shut up and let them do their job when Val asked why the Moth keeps on flying back. So Matt shooed it off Val and the moth landed on the Lamp and he gently picked it up and for his efforts Val clouted him hard on his hands with her slop (sandal) which were covering the moth.

As if it was his fault that the moth was attracted to her. Mathew giggled like a girl and asked Val if that was really necessary to kill his hands. He then did the Wizard of Oz skit…. I’m Melting…. But said Mat squealed “I’m injured, my hand is shattered……” mimicking a witch. Quite the performer when he needs to be.

This reminded us of when they were much younger and decided to put a show together for me. This act was danced and performed to the words of “Living next door to Alice.” They put this show together. Sarah 11, Matt 9 and Cait was 7.

They put all the actions together, and danced a really well choreographed dance and Mat was the doing the actions of the Limousine pulling in next door. And his steering wheel was a pot lid. I should have guessed then that my children would land up being in show business at some stage of their lives. Their faces filled with joy and so eager to just live and enjoy life to its fullest. The faces of the innocent beaming back at me.

The joy in their faces and the pride they took in their dance for me was so wonderful and to this day when the song plays I find myself doing the steps they put together. The wonderful childhood memories that we cherish and often use in our darkest times to face another day.

We then sat and reminisced about Days gone by and recent days. Matt was sharing how well he gets on with him roommate Bertus and how they like to discuss the books they read and philosophize about the content of the story and right in the middle of his sentence he said “OH MY G#$ WE ARE SO GAY!” which we laughed at as this was such an arbitory statement as he and Bertus are both heterosexual, it was just the way he was describing their book club that he realized how he sounded.

Bern and I were driving at the time and we enjoyed this light hearted banter. We had to share this incident with Val, Sarah and Granny June. So we asked him if he also drives a powder Blue Prius (eco friendly car) as in the Geoff Dunham skits.

Matt and Sarah were talking about their father and Mathew mentioned the time he dad gripped my mom in a rather inappropriate manner in the fridge (this has been mentioned in a previous Blog Newly Weds) with a full on grab of the female parts and they thought this was hilarious, so I added a story or two.

Sarah and Mathew then added that one time while staying with their Dad and his rather uptight second wife, Caitlin made a spectacular entrance. Adie and his wife were having this very posh breakfast and trying to impress the visitors, and were pompous and every so annoying according to Matt and Sarah. Cait was not even in school yet.

She walked into the lounge stood right in the middle of the room and proceeded to wee all over the floor. Sarah and Matt described it in this manner. Cait walked into the dining area. Lifted her dress and did a stance like the Hakka and just let go….. Right in front of the obnoxious society wannabees. I am sure Cait made a better impression than the poached eggs on ham they were serving with strawberries and cream!


Shame she was Fast asleep and sleep walking and had lost her direction. The shrieks or “What are you Doing!” woke her up and she was mortified.

The rest of the weekend was filled with these little trips down memory lane and the occasional sighting of a whale and his plumes of sea water in the distance. A time of healing and remembering what is important in life - Family and Friends.

Hungry Lizards (Gecko)

Val and Bern were in the Kitchen preparing dinner when this torrid of water flowed down the passage into the kitchen. One minute Val was standing on dry ground and the next she was slipping and sliding in her kitchen.

She looked around to see where the water was coming from. Followed the flow backwards and saw the water rushing from under the bathroom door.

With trepidation she asked “Matt are you ok?” She heard this squeal like a girl and he ripped the door open and his face was a picture of shock, fear, and he was speechless.

He stood there almost naked with a towel almost covering his privates.

I was sitting in the lounge chatting to Bernadette’s mom when Val rushed through to grab something, I think it was a towel, but she darted off back to the kitchen with haste in her footsteps and that determined walk we tend to get when dealing with a crisis.

I shouted out at her, “What’s wrong Val; is Matt ok?” This is my normal response as you may have realized by now when Matt is in the vicinity.

Over her shoulder she mumbled, everything was fine. This was not good enough for me so I followed very quickly. She assured me everything was all right – Matt has just had an incident in the bathroom. Now my imagination went wild as I could only imagine the catastrophe that had occurred and Val and Bern we obviously trying to keep the situation calm.

I did not accept their explanation and asked Matt if he was ok, he said no he was fine but he got the fright of his life and Val and Bern were unrestrainable in their fits of laughter.

I could get nothing out of them, no explanation any sense, they were unable to start a sentence let alone finish a sentence.

Mathew then came through into the lounge and this is how he explained it.

He was sitting in the bath, having this lavish bath, soaking up the hot water and enjoying his book immensely. He was so engrossed in his book that he was sure he imagined he heard a "plop" sound in the bath.


He looked up at the ceiling of the bathroom to see if maybe a piece of plaster had fallen into the bath. No the roof was still perfectly intact. He lay there with the book in his hands for a few seconds then decided it was not his imagination and lifted the book to look in the bath.


“I lifted the book and saw this huge lizard swimming towards me with its mouth wide open swimming towards my willy with razor teeth exposed. The next thing I knew I was standing next to the bath and the bath was almost empty and the floor was covered with water.”

He shrieked like a girl on her prom night and danced around like a fairy in the bathroom as he explained it. This Lizard was after his LIZARD.

He stood there and watched this little tiny Gecko about 6cm long swim around the water and took pity on him and scooped him up rather forcefully and dropped him on the floor after watching him climb determinedly and exhausted up the side of the bath and slip right in again. Matt was mortified thinking he had killed the Lizard with the tidal wave as he jumped, leaped, shot out, screaming at the top of his voice.

The Lizard was only shocked at the size of his Lizard according to Mathew and that is why he was motionless.

As Mathew was telling the story to his eager and avid audience, he was laughing with a pitch so high as he explained he was scared and really thought his life was in danger. I lost my breath I laughed so much and so loud that Sarah and Matt both thought I was going to have a heart attack or some type of attack. I was truly paralyzed with laughter.

Bernadette’s mom was sitting there shaking with an uncontrollable thigh slapping giggles that the tears were running down her face without any sign of stopping.

Bernadette was trying to help me breathe by patting me on the back but she was as helpful as boobies on a Bull. She was weak with laughter and the slaps were serendipitous to say the least.

Sarah was thrashing around in her chair with uncontrollable disorderly laughter coming out of her mouth. Now as loud as our cheers of laughter were, Val’s laughter has the ability to ignite cheer every where she goes.

To try and describe it is next to impossible – It is a cackle, and gobble, and deep belly laugh, combined with Champagne. Very contagious and this was like a continuous wave of laughter as we were then in such a state of giggles and undisciplined laughter that I truly feared for our lives.

Lack of Oxygen would have been the killer as we could not inhale with the intense laughter that we were experiencing.

A while later, I went to the bathroom and walked on the saturated towels down the passage and in the bathroom was quite taken aback when I saw how much water a bath can hold and wondered how Matt managed to cause tidal wave as he jumped out.

Little Gecko was quite happy there by the bedroom door, his breathing had calmed down and he scooted off into Granny June’s bedroom for refuge.

Sarah; and the Smell of Victory

This weekend was a weekend of beguilement, regalement, merriment and hoopla.
(I went and looked up words on the internet to describe laughter, belly laughter, giggling, hysterics and total abandonment on one’s ability to talk or walk when one is hit with the hilarious escapades of my family.)

Sarah left Johannesburg at 20h30 on Friday night for a much needed MOM break. So we dutifully set the alarm at 3.h00 to fetch her from the bus station, and Mathew was with us for the weekend. Cait unfortunately did not come down for the weekend much to my great sadness. The finances just did not allow for this… mores the pity because when my children get together I sit and admire them and am in awe of the fact that I actually had a hand in them being on this wonderful but crazy world of ours.

We took Fiona and Little Boy with us to collect Sarah as we were on our way to Port Edward for the weekend. Our friend Val has a beach “Cottage” there right on the shores. It is the most amazing “Cottage” and I say cottage very much tongue in cheeck as it can sleep 20 people. More like a mansion!

We arrive at the bus station a little late as we had to put fuel in the bakkie (delivery Van) first. Sarah of course was a bundle of nerves as she dislikes travelling alone. I ran to greet her or if you were to hear her describe it, I skipped, hopped and waddled as I have had knee re-construction and look like a crab I am sure running like they do in the movies to greet her.

There was no field of flowers to run through, just a stinky bus station swarming with people at 4h00 in the morning. This did not deter the pleasure I felt at seeing my Angel Sarah, I swear there was music in the back ground as I ran towards my Sarah in slow motion.

Sarah was so pleased to see me and did not seem to mind being plonked in the back of the bakkie (delivery Van) with Matt and the Dogs. (Jinx was being baby sat by my good friend Caz as she is due this week I think and I didn’t not think she could handle the 2 hour journey)

Little boy was ecstatic to see his Sarah; he absolutely adores her and becomes this blithering idiot around her, whimpering and crying like a girl!

We weren’t even 45 minutes into our journey when I received a “Call me from Sarah” There is no inter leading window between the cab and the back of the bakkie . I tried to phone her back but she sent a message as I was not responding quickly enough. Little Boy had welcomed her back with the most interesting and alarming gift he could think of.

Sarah and Mathew were dozing in the bakkie at 5h00 and suddenly their nostrils were assaulted by this over powering aroma of last night’s dinner. However this was not before Sarah experienced this wet warm feeling on her leg!

“Little Boy has poohed (not the word she used) in the bakkie on my shoe and leg.!” We stopped the bakkie; luckily we had toilet paper and a bottle for water so we were able to do a bit of a cleanup. Poor Sarah was mortified. Mathew asked her how come she couldn’t see Little Boy taking a “Dump” to which Sarah replied, "My eyes were closed and I stretched out and felt this warm icky feeling and then the smell hit me!"All over her newly clean takkies (track shoes) and pants.

She stood on the side of the road and took off her track pants and washed her legs off and put a new clean pair of pants on. There we were at 5h00 stopped in Amanzimtoti, cleaning the bakkie and Sarah without any ceremony stripped off her pants and stood there in her French Knickers for the whole world to see. The dogs in the neighbour hood were giving her a round of applause with their loud barking with great enthusiasm.

We were shoosing them but this only made them cheer Little Boy of even more his Pay Back to Humans and their inability to understand the simple gesture of prancing and crying in a confined space and they bowed to his superiority in handling humans! If it had not been so tragic this would have been a great photo opportunity.

Little Boy was so embarrassed and he was mortified but he had asked to be let out but Sarah and Mathew thought he was not enjoying the journey!

We had to throw away a duvet cover which we had been using to cover the cushions in the back of the bakkie which is quite a loss but these things happen. Sarah’s clothes and shoes were thrown into a plastic bag and tied tightly. We took them for a bit of a walk to allow them to finish whatever else they needed to do.

The rest of the journey was uneventful and we arrived at Val’s house and the dogs were so excited to have the freedom of this Garden that is the size of two Rugby fields.

So much happened this weekend so I have to do this in sections. The series of comical and ungovernable (New word) events continues!!!

I AM SORRY TO BOTHER YOU – BUT!

How many times have we been approached by a complete stranger who is either begging for R20.00 just so he can get to the bus station to go home to Tim Buck Two or, who has just run out of fuel and Oh my goodness his wife is in hospital giving birth to triplet goats, or my favourite, a school sponsor that you know is clearly not a legitimate request.

Now I believe in Charity and I am in no ways a mean person, but Oh please how stupid do these people think we are. You have this scruffy booze smelling person approach you asking for money to go and donate his liver to his dying child, let’s face it, no one want his liver!!! Pickled Liver does not count! Or that child who has facial hair of a 25 year old claiming he has been chose to represent the under 14 in some Crochet tour or tidily winks.

That person who ran out of fuel, well they seem to do it at the same spot every night and if that is not stupid planning on their part then I don’t know (yuck) oh please how stupid do you think we are. This woman flags you down and tells you her tales of woe and how she needs to rush home to put the fire out in her parlour and how she is in a hurry and scared a she is a woman on her own in a dark area blah blah and you take pity on her, give her your last R20 .00 only to see a man’s head pop up in the front of the car. That makes you want to rip open your door, take her head and bash it against your old second hand car door and tell her to back the F off.

We have all been taken at least once in our lives by a con artist I am sure. I know I have fallen for it many times. Like one time while in Witbank and missing my children desperately, I was in the queue to buy Christmas gifts and this young boy approaches me and asks me please to help him buy his Mommy a present as he does not have enough money and his daddy is not working and and..... I fall for it. But I think I am clever, I buy it for him, feeling so good and so wonderful and self gratified, only to see him go directly to the return counter to try and get the money back or exchange it.

I nearly ran up to him and ripped the gift out of his sweet innocent (NOT) hands and beat him on the bottom with it, but we don’t do those type of things do we.

1. We don’t beat children,


2. We are too well mannered to strangers and nod and smile politely and apologize if we bump into them or they bump into us.

Why is that, they are complete strangers and most probably bumped into you to pick pocket you. We will smile politely and thank a stranger for moving out of your way or apologize and walk away as if we are in the wrong, but we will not say those words to our loved ones. Like I am sorry, opps sorry I didn't mean to bump you or excuse me, please can you let me pass.


No we storm through our family like a tornado and expect them just to understand. Well guess what, they do not always understand and why should they. These are the people we have in our lives forever. So stop being nice to strangers and appreciate the people in your lives who make you smile every day and give you a reason for getting up in the morning. Treat them with the respect you give to strangers across the counter, or in a shopping Mall, or in a parking lot or crowded room.

If your child came to you asking for R20.00 because he or she wanted to just waste it, you would be responsible and say No, we need this, when in fact you should say just occasionally… Yes My baby here it is go and have fun and not give it to strangers or if they told you they needed you to sponsor them you would know whether it was true or not.

My reason behind this barrage of how we are conned by that “I am sorry to bother you” is the following

Jinx as you know is expecting a rather large litter I think and we have the toilet or food breaks every hour on the hour. So hence the Bad Mood and lack of patience and the need to hang a punch gab in my office!!!


So when the cell phone rings at 4h00am in the morning and Bernadette's National Ops Manager Bren says
“I am sorry to Bother You so early!” but the truck is in and can you get to the office 2 hours early. I asked myself, is he kidding, or is he just insane. Go to work two hours early to do what exactly what? Watch the truck in the depot parking bay as the staff are not there to unload it. To what? - unload the Super Link ourselves. So why the phone calls, what purpose did it achieve. Well it woke me up and really started my day on a good note.

One time I was approached by this unsightly person wanting to ask me something or sell me something or get sponsor money or something. I was with Bern and my Friend Shell and he approached me. I must have “Talk to me” tattooed on my forehead as they always approach me.


“Sorry to bother you” I looked up as everyone is taller than me much to my disgust except for Hobbits and small children of about 8 years and downwards!! and said “Well then DON’T!” and walked away.

Bern and Shell hooted with laughter and looked at me in surprise as I am the decorum of manners and respect and all sweet things and sugar and spice but I had just had enough. So when Bren phoned and said "Sorry to bother you", I replied, "Clearly you are not or you wouldn’t have phoned at 4 am in the morning!"I answered Bernadette’s phone as she was doing the Jinx trip allowing me to sleep just a little.

Well this comment went right over his head and he asked to speak to Bernadette who dutifully came in and took the call from me.

So next time someone says
“Sorry to Bother You” Respond with one of the following

1. “DONT BE SORRY JUST Don’t BOTHER ME”

2. Or you obviously aren’t or you wouldn’t be talking to me”

3. Or just say NO as well do before we hear their story.

4. And if that does not work, Hit them on the head with your handbag and run!!!LOL

The really sad thing is we do this to our superiors and friends if we need something, we start a sms or Skype message or e-mail or phone call with


"I AM SORRY TO BOTHER YOU!”– When in actuality we are not sorry to bother them, we may be embarrassed or desperate but not SORRY!

Crazy Animals Part 4 – Surrogate Moms

While I continue my journey of animals we have had and have been blessed to share our lives with, the most amazing this is they all left their mark on us in one way or another. Some however are long lasting as they have dug their claws in and mauled us in many a game we have played with them


We had two cats called Smudge who we named and Baby and Dilly who we called Tiny. (We are very original in our name choices aren’t we?

We had the perfect pair. Male and Female Kittens, perfect pair.

My brother and his children visited us one Christmas and Lauren my wonderful gift of a niece was about 6 years old. She adores Cats and we had to ask her not to pick up Baby as she was in her last weeks of pregnancy but told her she could pick up Tiny any time. So she duly picked Tiny up and loved him and wrestled with him and Baby was left alone. Now baby got her name because one day Bern was in the bathroom and was calling for me to come to her.

I was outside so I was not able to hear her calling me. "Baby, Baby" she called, quite a few times and in trotted Smudge and jumped right onto Bern in the Bath and looked her right in the eye and meowed. As if she was saying “Yes You Called” and that is how she got her name.

Now Tiny was being man handled or I should call it Lauren handled and Baby was quite safe, however we did notice that Tiny was becoming rather large and admonished him for eating too much. Every time we fed Baby extra Food he wanted some too. We would shoosh him off to make sure that Baby had all the nutrients she needed for her pregnancy. A few days later I said to Sarah, "Just check that Tiny is in fact a boy" as he was getting bigger by the day and she asked how?


Well I told her to blow the fur away in that area and see if you can see the male gender parts. Well to our dismay Tiny was a girl and she was also very much an expectant mom. We apologized profusely for not letting her eat with Baby and every time we saw her we over compensated by giving her more food. Tiny was so fluffy you can excuse our lack of knowing what gender she was to start off with. She alsohad this magnificent tail that she was so proud of, as fluffy as a feather duster and was not too keen on us getting anywhere near to her tail area.


Well Baby went into labour and produced 6 or 7 kittens of the most amazing colours and a few days later Tiny did the same and had 6 kittens as well . They chose the keep their kittens in our cupboard where the shoes usually are. Baby on my side of the cupboard and Tiny on Bern’s side of the cupboard.

This was so cute two mommies with their little bundle of joys. What was mind blowing was that when Baby went outside she would take her babies to Tiny to look after and feed. One by one she would pick them up and place them in the cupboard next to hers. She would then give them one last lick and kiss and would slowly and every so genteelly walk out the room and go and get her daily stretch in the garden.

Tiny would make room for her adopted children and they would all suckle down as if this was quite the norm. She would clean them and love them and be in her element. When Baby returned, as if on cue, Tiny would get up, pick her kittens up one by one and place them with Baby and off she would go to her daily stretch.

We realized that they had no problem sharing a cupboard and put them together after that. What impressed us was that when both mothers were in the cupboard, they did not get their babies mixed up but they were quite happy to be wet nurses to their adopted babies.

Tiny had no problems sharing her kittens with us, except for one, a stunning black and white kitten that was just a ball of fluff. Matt named him Milo. When she left the room we would quickly go and pick up Milo and love him and he would squawk and screech and she would come darting back into the room and literally take him out of our hands and out him back in his basket in the cupboard.

When this first happened we had to test it again so we waited for the opportune moment and when she had left the room for more than a few seconds, we picked him up gently so as not to wake him. He slept on my chest and was quite comfortable.

Tiny returned, went to her basket, did a head count and then in an instant started meowing and crying for her Lost Son. Now understand we had had her other babies on the bed with us and she had just jumped on the bed, licked them and gone back to her basket. This time Tiny was frantic and Milo woke up and heard her callings and proceeded to answer.

She jumped onto the bed with the speed of light, Gave us such a dirty look, gently grabbed her Boy by the scruff of his neck and float off the bed carrying her precious bundle of fur back into her sanctum.

Milo was the most beautiful cat; if he was human he would be that Super Model who made such an appearance until he opened his mouth to speak. All looks and no brains whatsoever, one of the doffest (stupid) cats I have ever come across. He fed off his mother for 6 months as she would just not let him go and he of course loved the attention and the extra grooming she gave him at every opportunity, I swear he was a mommy’s boy.

Milo adored Matt and for quite a few months we were not sure of his gender either as those parts of him were small to say the least. Went with the size of his brain I am sure. We used to have those Laser torches that shine pin lights and the cats loved the game of chase with these. We just had to pick it up and put it on and I am sure it sent off a supersonic sound humans are unable to hear and the room would suddenly be swarming with cats. We had two of them so we could entertain the 4 cats.

The cats would run and chase the laser beam and we would watch as the jumped at and clawed the place where the beam was. One day Bern decided in her mean streak of a moment to run the beam up Matt’s bottom to see what the cats would do! (As if she didn’t know!)

Well Milo proceeded to follow the beam all the way up Matt’s bottom onto his shirt and then just hung there like a bat. We all thought this was very funny of course; however Matty for some unknown reason did not, possibly the scratch marks on his Butt were a dead give away!

We would shine the beam onto the cupboard doors and walls and when we tired of the game we would simply switch it off. Game over. We never really paid much attention to what the cats did after that as this was usually when we got ready for bed, until I noticed Milo was sitting in front of the cupboard door waiting for the beam to come back.

Sarah said...
I also remember quite clearly that a certain someone or a couple decided that Milo was a girl and he needed to be sterilized so she didnt have babies, only to realise that after asking Me the trusty gender revealer to blow back his fluff to see. Only to see massive ..... looking straight back at me hahahahahahahahahaha

So beautiful but so dumb.

Crazy Gifted Animals Part 3 – In memory of Our Mom and Gran

I have come to the conclusion that animals choose their owners not the other way around.

We went through a stage of having many cats. To my delight I must add. My first Cat I had in Johannesburg after not having a cat for a very long time was Called Puss (as Puss in Boots) how was I to know that Puss was actually a male cat. A tom is the correct word to use. As kittens those gender parts are not on display.

I loved this cat more than I can describe, he was unique and loved to play with soft cuddly toys – but his best toy ever was Sarah. They would play catches. There is no exaggeration here. The real catches game we play as kids. Tap on shoulder – your it game.

Puss would wait for her to come home from school, greet her and talk to her is his deep meow voice and then he would get that pounce stance ready and this was the signal that Sarah had to go hide.

She was 11 years old when I got him. Sarah would then giggle in her infectious giggle, and run and hide and wait. Puss would runoff in the direction she went in and he would search for her and it was almost like search and destroys as Sarah would try to be quiet but the anticipation of him finding her and zapping her was just too much.

She would sit there holding her breath in the fear that he would hear her, and then shriek out as Puss would pounce on her. Tapp Tapp and run off in the opposite direction. The game was on, He would then go and hide and wait for Sarah to find him. As she approached we could see him do the wriggle and pounce dance that cats do and she would move the curtain or looking the washing basket and he would leap out at her and she would scream blue bloody murder! Puss loved the reaction and he adored this game.

We learnt the hard way not to go away for too long. One time Cait was the first one in the house after we had gone away for the night. She walked in and was walking to her room when Puss shot out at her like a jack in the box and proceeded to attack her legs, and zap her and really let her have it with such furious abandon that it was actually quite a shock. I had to put the Disney Plaster on Cait’s injuries and she was not at all impressed with Puss and told him so. Puss was not the slightest bit perturbed by this as he was the ruler of our family and we had better just accept it.

He was so upset at us for leaving him alone that he decided to let the first person through the door know exactly how upset he was. He then turned to Sarah and Matt and chased them around the house. I finally calmed him down and he was happy and settled into his hide and seeks game again.

After that we never entered the house without pre-greeting him. Cait would call from the Gate “Puss we are home, Puss we love you, Here Puss Here Puss” I am sure my neighbours thought we were terrible people using a word like that but in all honestly that was HIS NAME!

Now Puss had this ability to warn you that you were going to come down with an illness, flu, tumours, headaches, monthly pains, toothache, heart attack, all ailments (except Matt’s accidents – he never warned me of those! Mores the pity as I would have liked a heads up for these events as my heart nearly couldn’t handle the shock of the dreaded phone call.)

When I was so ill with my colon in 1999 Puss would not leave me alone and when I came home after my operation he stayed by my side for 4 weeks until he felt I was well enough. We all became very aware of his powers of deduction and if he went and slept with one of the children or paid particular attention to an area, say the neck or back I would say, oh on you getting sick to the children and sure as nuts they would become ill in the area he was protecting. The most amazing animal and so loving when you were ill. Our little resident doctor.

My mom visited us the December of 1999 and she was not a huge Cat Lover but it was not long before she was telling Puss that it was bed time and he would tootle off to bed with her. “Come Puss its bed time” she would say.

Puss would stretch out claw the furniture he was lying on. Yawn, the yawn of boredom. Give us the beady eye as if to say “What no treats?” and stretch again. He would then slowly amble out the lounge, tail straight up and start talking to my mom. He purred so loud we could hear him all the way down the passage. He would weave his way through her legs and rub himself ever so lovingly against her legs.

My mom would talk to him in a soft gentle voice and explain that she had to go and brush her teeth and get ready for bed and he would dutifully follow her into the bathroom -Lurch onto the basin and watch this routine with great interest. He never took his eyes off my mom and would tap her on her hand as she brushed her teeth and hair. Why her hair is anyone’s guess. I mean MOM you are off to bed, unless she was expecting a midnight visitor!

They would then waltz to the bedroom as he weaved in and out between her legs and she would warn him that he was going to be the death of her. Mom would then, pull back the covers and Puss would dutifully if not impatiently wait for her to pick up her glasses next to her bed, retrieve her book as she read every night before sleeping.

She would then settle down and he would come and climb on her chest and settle in. If my mom so much as tried to push him ever so slightly into a more comfortable position, he would dig his claws in. This is where he wanted to be and she was not going to change the status quo no matter how uncomfortable she was! His attitude was “I am King! Deal with it.”

Which my gentle mom did. She would peer over him and try to read her book. Puss on the other hand had other ideas. Love me Damit was his attitude. He would put his paw exactly where her hand was holding the book and zap it out of her hands. Or he would chew the pages so she was unable to read.

My mom of course realized she would lose this battle yet again but she still tried to read. We could hear her telling Puss that she was reading and he was to play NICE. Puss did just what he wanted and my mom would sigh, put the book down and give him the love he was so badly in need of. They would then settle down for the night and Puss would cuddle up in the crook of her neck.

He followed her around and was her shadow and would not get off her chest when she slept.

During the day he was like a dog, following her around and when we went out for a day visit somewhere he would yowl for my mom to come home. When we arrived home, after the pre-greeting from us all the way from the Gate, he would run to her greeting her in his deep meow and wrap himself around her legs and the purr box would start up again. He won my mom over in no time at all and I believe Puss loved her just as much. By the time my mom left to return to Zimbabwe Puss was absolutely and totally in love with her

I knew there was smoothing wrong with my mom and warned her to go and see the doctor as Puss was telling her she was sick.

When she was packing to leave, he kept on scratching her clothing out of the tog bag to climb in almost as if he either wanted to go with her or wanted to prevent her from going back to Zimbabwe. After we dropped her at the airport we returned home and Puss did not meet us at the door as was his usual behaviour. We found him sleeping in the cupboard where my mom had kept her tooth brush and toiletries and he absolutely refused to leave the cupboard for at least a week. He would every now and then yowl for her in a sad forlorn voice and we could see he was pining for her.

My mom passed away in February of heart failure in her sleep and we were devastated and still are to this day. Puss was trying to tell us she was not well and even though my mom did heed our warnings, the doctors did not find anything wrong with her heart. But out sweet Puss knew better.

Puss left our lives about 6 months later and we missed him terribly too. I can still see him and my mom walking down the passage to bed and smile a smile of love and tenderness as he was a little angel in fur for the most amazing woman I have ever met and I was truly blessed to have her as my mom.

Crazy Loveable Animals Part 2 – JOMO in action

I have told you about Jomo but there is so much more to his story.

I few weeks back Sharon was busy with Lift Club for her son, and as is always the case with children they are never on time. She is rushing out the door yelling at her son to hurry up as the other school children are waiting.

She climbs into the Kombi (Mini Bus) and tries to start the car. Nothing happens, she sits there holds her head with her very expressive hands. Tries again, thumps the steering wheel, and thinks it must be the battery or something in the engine. Gets even more frustrated as her son is still dawdling. She climbs out and does a walk around the car, thinking maybe wishing and temper tantrums will inspire the Kombi to just start up magically. She walks around to the back of the Kombi and sees dangling wires. She looks closer, there are teeth marks on her number plate and the wires have been ripped out and on the floor is the evidence in little pieces. Jomo is looking at pieces of wire on the ground, panting his heave pant and almost giggling as he is expecting a pat on the head for a job well done.

“Jomo I will kill you” she shouts and runs inside to get her car keys for her smaller vehicle. She does this while she is frantically phoning the mothers of her lift club to explain her dilemma. She is flustering and blustering and really not impressed. Jomo is very clever and has cottoned on that his MOM is not so happy with his handy work which he was so proud off. He is out of reach and had every intention of staying like that.

Sharon climbs into her other car, now grumbling at her son and telling him he will be late and explaining in great detail how she is going to skin JOMO alive when she gets a chance. She reverses, then straightens up in front of the electric gate, presses the open button. Nothing – nothing happens. She cannot believe this and sits there almost crying into her hands now.

“What now?” she squeals. She is sure the battery is not due for replacement yet. She walks to the Gate Motor and there are little pieces of the motor and wires everywhere.

Well as Sharon tells the story, she really wanted to cry and out of the corner of her ye she spotted Jomo sitting at the back door with this very big grin on his face as if he was enjoying the Oscar Performance Sharon was dancing out for him. She stood there and had a tantrum like a three year old and told Jomo that he would not live to see the end of the day.

Well Jomo has clearly not been killed by a flying rolled up news paper as this is how she disciplines him, but the other day it was a close call. Sharon is an avid gardener and she had just planted the most beautiful shrubs in her magnificent rolling garden and was quite pleased with the results of her handy work. She had spent the whole of Saturday in planting and arranging and designing her next project in the garden.

She went inside as it was beginning to get dark. She poured herself that much needed sun downer and remarked that her bones were aching and her body not as supple as it used to be.

She took a sip of her drink, walked to the huge lounge window to appreciate her wonderful garden when she saw Jomo pulling all her hard work out of the garden. She shouted at him to stop and when he heard her he bounded off to the waterfall in her garden and climbed in under the water tumbling down and sat there with the offending shrub in his mouth.

Sharon stormed out to admonish him and he took this as a sign to duck and reach for cover as he knew that tone only too well. Wet, Muddy and all excited he ran into the house and climbed on the white furniture looking for a safe hiding place.

I am still in awe of the fact that he is still alive and that Sharon still adores this monster on four legs. It’s the battle of wits with Jomo and Sharon, he is extremely intelligent and is still a young dog, but I worry he may not see his next birthday.

This Sunday was one of the most pleasant Sundays I have had in a long time. Even though it was drizzling when we started off to the Midlands for our little excursion to the Howick Meander we were really looking forward to being tourists.

This is a tourist attraction and has the most exquisite shops; wine testing and the views are amazing. We saw art that is very different and has prices that would make your hair turn grey if it was not already Grey! R36 000 for a pink plate in the shape of a fish with ceramic pottery on - I think not. Not my taste I have to admit nor is it for my pocket!

Now this is trip has been planned for weeks and we were invited by Bern’s Boss for a Spring Day celebration. The weather man must have heard because the rain bucketed down all week and the poor flowers were bombarded by sheets of rain that seemed to be a warning to us that we need to start building our ARKS!

My hair in this weather, oh well I just decided to give up trying to make it sleek and pretty and flat and went with the “OH MY there is a monster look!” So Sunday arrives and I take out my trusty Hair Dryer and Magic Kit, realize I am totally wasting my time. The minute I walk outside Whoosh the rain will undo my handy work and I will be the drowned rat I am sure I was destined to be in Durban.

We leave early enough to arrive at the designated place and the trip is very pleasant and calm.

That is the last bit of calmness. We are met by Jomo, Sharon’s wonderful killer kisser Labrador. He is a magnificent specimen of a Labrador. He is a year old now and is still very much a puppy at heart, but his size is that of a stocky big dog; he still has some growing to do as he has left a permanent foot print on my white sox and believe me when I tell you, the whole sock is one big brown splodge.

I sneak, run, and hop into the house as my balance is not so good while I am dodging the big brute of an animal.

We are served Champagne and Orange juice and decide where we are going to go first. I remind Sharon of my 1st introduction to wonderful Jomo 7 months ago when we were house hunting.

We stayed at Sharon’s house, and were pleased to have the invite. Bern and I pulled up her drive way and we saw this then 8 month old puppy come to greet us.
"
Oh how cute" says Bern. She opens her door and Jomo climbs right in onto her lap. That was the last time her shorts were ever Khaki in colour again. He had just gotten out of the horses water trough and was a mess of black farm stuff and goo and he was so happy to greet us.

I watched in horror as this pup would have bowled me over in a second flat. Now I love and adore animals but I had only brought so many changes of clothing for the house hunting stint.

Sharon came out to rescue us and Jomo did exactly as he pleased. Bowled me over, jumped on my kissed me with his horse/dog breath and I fell head over heels in love with him. I think the feeling was mutual; he kept on taking me by my hand with his wonderful germ free mouth (NOT SO MUCH) and pulling me to play with him.

Who am I to argue with an animal that must weigh at least 40kgs of solid muscle at 8 months. Besides with his jaw firmly on my hand in a vice grip that could crush a sheep if he was so inclined I was not going to argue. The one time I did try to hide my hand in my pocket I was rewarded with a big jaw clench on my wrist and lower arm and my hand was ceremonially ripped out my pocket. Those trousers are now history too.

Sharon does not allow smoking in her house and quite rightly so, so I would have Jomo keep me company outside

Bern and I were sitting outside drinking a glass of red wine looking at the most gorgeous garden and wishing we could have a paradise like this. When my glass was taken out my hand, ever so gently by Jomo. He stood there with this glass in his mouth as gentle as a saint, stem of the glass sticking out his rather large mouth and his voluminous tongue licked the glass and he tipped it up so to get all the liquid. I was terrified he would crush the glass in those Bear like jaws and I would be taking him to the vet to get the shreds of glass removed.

In a quiet haste, I took the glass and tried to slip it out his mouth. You can be assured, Jomo was not going relinquish the well rounded smooth - with a slightly floral woody taste wine to me. So we played tug of war and eventually Bern used her deep voice and told him to let go of the glass which he did very quickly.

Bern has this voice of authority that animals listen to without hesitation. One day she came into the lounge and this is when I had six German Sheppard dogs and they were causing riot in my lounge. They were unruly and so excited to see us.

She walked in and said ‘SIT!” Well I fell into a side splitting guffaw as everyone sat down, the dogs, the children and our guests!

Jomo looked up at Bern and he decided this was not on and proceeded to maul her arm in gently nips and apologies and danced around us in delight as I am sure the glass of wine was taking effect.

This Sunday Jomo was in his element and stalked me and terrorized me. We went up to the top of Sharon’s Farm to the view point to marvel and the sight of the farms and surrounding fields. I imagine this is what England looks like, all green with patch work type fields and we sat there in awe of Gods Beauty and his wonderful mix of colours.

The peace and serenity was broken when one minute we were talking to Sharon and the next she was flat on her back on the grass. Jomo had snuck up behind her and clipped her knee in just the right place and she fell like a ton of bricks. Thank goodness there was no serious damage, he then catapulted off in Bern’s direction, and jolted her nearly off her feet and she only managed to stop herself falling down the embankment.

I was doing the dodge and move dance to try and miss the steam train of wild excited animal. I hid behind Bern in the hopes that we would not be bowled over like 10 pin skittles! Just as quickly as his onslaught happened he darted off after a butterfly or some flying insect.

We descended in careful steps, watching out for the hidden holes in the ground and also kept an eye out for the JOMO! He was watching us and decided to show us just how clever he was is he climbed right into the horse’s trough and lounged in the water like a hippo.

As we descended off the view point on the farm which is very uneven we watched him very gingerly as we knew he would be this wild puppy if he got to excited and run for us and rugby tackle us. He took one look at us and rushed us with the speed of a bull in a china shop and proceeded to shake this black, brown slush of water all over us. He was in his element.

I am so glad I have Jinx to content with, as I swear I would never leave the house if Jomo lived with me.

Rainy Days and Missing Gym Handles returns

On Saturday Morning after being hounded by the gentleman who bought our gym from us, Bern and I decided we had better retrieve the offending gym handle from the tree.

We were on our way into the office so I could get my miracle bag which consists of hair dryer and make up for our Sunday trip to the Midlands Meander. A trip we had been looking forward to all week. But there was no ways I was going to go alla -Natural.

We walk to the tree, its raining, and the rain is not soft rain I might add. We stand at the bottom of the tree and peer up into the dark wet yonder and try and think of a way that we will be able to reach the gym handle. Now Cait had told me that Matt simply hung onto the hose pipe to stretch it and then he could reach the handle.

Right this sounds like a plan. The rain is dripping off my nose as I go to look for the ladder so that Bern can reach the hosepipe. We have already locked the house -put the alarms on and as I was walking out I grabbed a knife to cut the hose pipe off the Gym Handle.

Find the Ladder climb up the embankment where the tree and tree house are. OK do a bit of a rain dance as this is getting ridiculous, but we will not be defeated. Bern puts the ladder under the hose pipe. Reaches on her tippy toes to see if she can grab the handle. No such luck. Just too short.

Ok Plan B – Bern grabs hose pipe, pull on it, it stretches, and I am now able to grab it ...only just. It’s wet - it’s slippery, Bern is dangling, and I have a knife in my hand to pass to her.

I grab the hose pipe; wrap the hose pipe around my hands - Nope too slippery! - My hands slip off the hose pipe. It’s pouring down with rain. Bern is now swaying in the breeze. I could use her as one of those Mexican Piñata dolls if I were so inclined. Which I am as I have this wicked sense of humour. I look up at her and can only imagine the horror in her face if I was so walk off and leave her dangling – but I think twice about this and realize this could very well back fire and decided against being mean! I smile up at her and fantasize a little more but then decide it’s time to get serious. (If that is at all possible)

I grab my tracksuit top and pull the arms down over my hands; I form a glove and grab the hose pipe once again.

OK this seems to be working. I am now helping Bern pull the hose Pipe Down. She grabs the knife from me, and let’s go of the hose pipe to grab the handle. Ping!!!! I shoot up, she is on the ladder looking at me doing the jungle Jane swinging on the vines trick.

Bern is now totally useless She can’t see, her eyes are closed she is laughing so much. Jinx thinks this is the best sight she has seen in ages and nips at my toes. I am holding on for dear life hoping that my grip does not loosen. I am laughing so much that I am now weak, I scream at Bern to Grab the hosepipe, which she duly tries to do, but she is blinded by her tears. I am pulling my legs up to get them away from Jinx and her excited yaps and nips at my dangling feet.

I swing, the rain is pouring, and Bern is standing precariously on the ladder trying to gain her composure to grab the hose pipe. She is now on tippy toes and finally reaches the gym handle. I now let go of the house pipe and I have lost all strength in my body from my braying outburst of rippling laughter and she shoots off the ladder and is handing on the gym handle.

Well I collapse on the floor in hysterical laughter. Jinx and Fiona and Little Boy join in on the fun and I am trodden muddy and dirty and kissed and rolled on and used as a trampoline. Bern is hanging on the Gym handle, trying to reach the ladder with her outstretched foot. She is demanding I help her. I cannot see her eyes as she is laughing so hard her eyes have become permanently glued together.

I know I have to help her because if she falls she will really hurt her not so strong back. So I climb on the ladder, grab her; pull her towards the now tippling ladder. Grab onto the hose pipe and hang on to it for dear life. Finally the gym handle is within reach to cut the hose pipe. Bern Warns me not to let go as she can see herself catapulting off over the wall and landing up in the neighbour’s yard. Well this is too much for my already sore stomach muscles as I have not stopped screeching with laughter and I barley manage to hold on.

Saw saw, saw saw, the knife is blunt. So there I am hanging on the hose pipe being jerked around like a puppet while Bern tries to saw through the hose pipe which is stretched as far as it will go but she is still working on the tips of her toes!.

I look up and imagine the final cut through the hose pipe and am expecting Bern to come tumbling down into me. I hold my breath and pray as every jerking movement of the blunt knife brings me close to me becoming one with the mud at the bottom of the tree.

Whoosh, the Gym handle is now free. Bern manages to stay on the ladder and I manage to keep come composure as I hold my stomach in agony as it is aching from the loud whaling, painful fits of giggles I had been experiencing.

We walk to the car, moan about the irresponsible behaviour of Matt. Decide we don’t look so bad or so dirty, I mean I can put Bern’s jacket on to hide the paw prints, Bern will run in and grab my Miracle Bag, and then she can run into the guy who bought the gym and we could return home to clean up. Oh the joys of having children!!

My Wonderful Friend since childhood!

This is not my normal crazy story, its a trip down memory Lane for me.

At 3h24 this morning I received a sms from my dearest and most wonderful friend Brenda of 40 years.

A sms at that time of the morning does put me on red alert as we have all had the dreaded early morning phone call.

So I grab my glasses as I am not able to read without my trusty friends no matter how far I stretch my arm out to read. Obviously I need to grow longer arms. I have been told this happens to most people when they reach Forty - Their arms shrink!!! Ha ha. No what I mean is our sight gets worse from 40 years on wards.

Now my sweet friend who I have known since I was 6 advised me she is coming to South Africa in November. This is indeed good news and I have not see her for about 8 years.

The memories I have of this wonderful person are so vivid and so fresh, in fact, I have a lifelong reminder of just how much my friendship meant to Brenda.

We were 6 years old, and as all girls do, we bickered all the time, and my mother often used said we were like two like cats (I now know she was not being polite when she said that because in fact she wanted to call us something much worse!)

While playing over at Brenda’s house, we were being our wonderful innocent selves and for no reason what so ever, sweet blue eyes Lou with her angelic face and cupid mouth got a little upset with me. I really do not remember what I had done, so I had my little 6 year old tantrum in return and told her I was going home.

Blam! I felt this thud on my head, I am sure I saw stars and then a trickle of blood!!!! I screamed blue Bloody Murder and ran to Brenda’s mother in hysterics!

She was not impressed that I wanted to go home and hit me on the head with a garden rake..... Hence the scar on my eyebrow. Now in anyone’s language this may not be funny bit the reasoning behind it is silly in hind sight.

As Brenda explained it “You can’t go home; I don’t want you to go home, so I will hit you for 9 - unconscious - so you can’t go home! “

Oh we squabbled and through the years I am sure we drove our parents to drink with our bickering and our scheming on how we were going to take over the world. We remained true to our friendship and not much has changed when we do meet up again, the years that have passed have not affected our friendship and our commitment to the vows we made at age 6, to be Best Friends Forever.

Our Friendship has survived the distance between us, and I have not been hit on the head with a rake again!

We are now both moms of 20 plus year olds and we adore our children, but when we are together, we become those silly giggling teenagers who sat and discussed boys, and music and clothes and the possibility of DOING IT until all hours of the morning.

We reminisce about Midnight feasts which we planned with such detail, and dutifully woke up at midnight (so we thought - turned out that our parents simply woke us before they went to sleep, and we were none the wiser) ate our wonderful treats, Marmite sandwiches, cool drink and a few sweets if we had managed to keep them from our brothers.

What wonderful memories. As children we had the ability to turn some bales of cotton into these secret hidden caves. Where we would hide from our brothers and then get bored and go look for them, only to return to our "Secret" cave to find they had raided our little home and pantry ! We would try to hunt them down without any success. We never did find where their secret Cave was. I have a suspicion that they actually did not bother to have one, the simply waited to steal from us!

Being Brenda’s best friend at school was wonderful, EXCEPT, when there was mischief afoot, I would land up in trouble and be blamed for whatever the mischief was and Brenda, well sweet innocent, precious, blue eyed angel!; never once was scolded or punished because the teachers would say
“Oh Brenda would never do that, just look at the innocent Face and sweet mouth, no she would never do that!”

And poor me, I was born with a naughty cheeky face (So I have been told) would land up having to explain the damages or the events that had taken place and Lou was equally responsible!!!

I wouldn’t trade one minute of our friendship and cherish each any every memory, odd battle scar and photographs we may have of our childhood. Our friendship taught us that in times of the worst fears or trouble you can rely on your friend as she is more than likely in detention or worse jail with you! Saying

" Oh NO - who is going to phone our parents, but Hell that was fun!! Lets do it again!"

The Joys of an Expectant DOG

I mentioned earlier that Jinx is going to be a mommy and she is quite confused by the growth in her girth. She is still very playful and loveable; however these nightly visits to the food bowl or the garden are taxing to say the least.

6 weeks ag0!
I wouldn’t mind if she woke me quietly and gently.

Fiona will wake me with a sniff on the face or a small paw tap on the arm and I have the chance to wake up and respond without great haste.

Jinx, how can I describe her version of waking me up? Picture a full force attack of the bubbly excited and overzealous type of wake up call.

TODAY

I am woken by her literally pouncing on my chest as I sleep the sleep of the dead. Her full body weight is behind the pounce and she then proceeds to drench me with her kisses and over whelming shows of affection. I am pinned to the bed as she holds me down with her paws, I try to move and use my legs as a lever to push her away so I can sit up.

She then becomes this jumping jack, on me, off me, as I try to sit up without being pushed back down onto the pillows. All the while she is trying to bite my toes, so I land up looking like an insect which has been overturned and is struggling to get back on its feet. A leg kicking frantically in the air for balance and dodging Jinx’s teeth as she now thinks this is a game.

I am not quiet when I do this extraction from the bed. I raise my voice at her and tell her

“Jinx this is not how you wake me, I do not appreciate it when you jump on me!” To which her response is slobber slobber slobber all over me. I then use that tone I have learnt to perfect over the years when talking to my animals

“NO JINX! Enough is enough”

This has no effect on her whatsoever; and I weave my way out the bed still struggling to find my feet. My body bruised by her pounces as this will have been the 3rd or 4th time she has woken me. I am sure my top half of my body looks like it has been in some type of accident as I have perfect paw size bruises in that region. Note to JINX. Lady Parts are not jumping Castles!

Jinx then scoots off down the passage after I have switched off the alarm and navigates her way past the passage door and waits not so patiently as I find the key to unlock the back door. Then she astounds me. She walks out, sits down on the step, scratches herself, looks up at me and does NOTHING! Nothing at all, looks up at me, wags her tail and gives me a lopsided grin.

I can nearly kill her as this is just not fun anymore. The only thing I can think of is these pups growing in her are a funny sensation for her and she needs to share this experience. I have prepared the room we sleep in with extra food and a larger bowl of water so when she jumps on me to go outside, I expect her to go and do her nightly business.

She looks up at me with adoration in her eyes and I just tell her to get back into the room and stomp back down the passage. I climb into bed and she sits with her head on the bed and I pat her and rub her ever growing stomach in the hopes that I will miss the next hourly JUMP ATTACK.

While I watch her stomach grow, I remember Bern’s lovely and wonderful Sasha, more fondly known as Tatty.

She was expecting her first littler and we arrived home after a phone call from Sarah to tell us that Tatty had started her labour.

We rushed home and she was right in the beginning stages, just looking for a place to nest. We sat down next to her and made her comfortable in our lounge as this is where she decided she wanted to be on her favourite blanket.

After a few hours of being the midwives, I asked Caity to make me a peanut butter sandwich with some tea. I was sitting there and not really paying much attention for a split second as I was giving instructions on what to take out for dinner, when sweet wonderful gentle Tatty, took the peanut butter sandwich out my hand and chomped it down with an apologetic expression on her face.

We laughed as she had never been a food thief but obviously giving birth is a hard job and she needed nourishment. The labour took many hours and all she wanted to eat was peanut butter sandwiches. After many hours of panting with her and telling her she was a good girl as she gave birth to two beautiful male German Shepherd pups.

Tatty proved to be a wonderful mom but obsessed with keeping them clean and she would lick them right off their big pillow and she would not pick them up by the scruff of their necks like most dogs do.

One night while I was in a very deep sleep I was woken by Tatty on my chest nose to nose with a big loud Woof! I got such a fright as she was the gentlest soul ever.

I got up and she showed me she had mislaid one of her precious pups. She had licked Teddy - Pogglebee right off the pillow and all the way under the big old fashioned antique cupboards in our room.

This was the routine until we put up little barriers around the area she had chosen so the pups were not licked into the next room. She never picked them up by the neck, she would in her sweet way ask us to pick them up for her.

We also had a wonderful white German Sheppard, Fiona’s mother who craved tomatoes when she was pregnant. She would sit by the fridge waiting for us to feed her tomatoes. We got into the habit of buying her an extra pack of tomatoes to feed her craving.

We would open the fridge and she would help herself to one tomatoes as we had placed them in her “spot” in the fridge. Teddy-Pogglebee was the father of her litters and he was quite the devoted Daddy. He would sit while Nikita was giving birth and would lean in to greet every pup when she was finished cleaning them. Nikita had multiple puppies. The first litter was 10 and the last was 13.

Teddy-Pogglebee, who we called Big Boy would clean them and love them with such maternal love that we were amazed by this show of love. Nikita would leave the pups to do her run around the garden and eat and Big Boy would sneak in the room and climb into the enclosed area and lye with the pups and clean them and love them and as soon as Nikita returned he would scoot off as she was not very impressed with him coming near her babies.

I still marvel at the wonders of animals and their idiosyncrasies and their ability to love their offspring. Big Boy behaved like no male dog I have ever seen. He insisted on being at the births and meeting his pups as they came into the world one by one and every now and then he would lick Nikita as if he was giving moral support.

Nikita was like any woman giving birth…. She was not impressed with the male who had put her in this predicament and did not hold back when she showed him just how much she was annoyed at the turn of events. A good talking back to and a snarl when he tried to get too close to her just like a human being telling the father of her child that she blames him for all her pain and suffering "Coz He did this to her!"

One day one of the pups was too close to the pool area and he herded the pup in the opposite direction; calling for help with his loud pitched yapping.

We landed up with 6 German Sheppard’s, 4 of them Nikita’s children plus mom and dad.

Her one pup, Sam I already mentioned in a previous blog was so beautiful and large - this magnificent specimen of pure white German Sheppard. However he was all brawn and no brains. He was convinced he was as small as a Jack Russell and could not climb up on a bed. He would put his paws up and then fall asleep and slump off the bed in a loud thump and that is where he would sleep.

The only way he believed he could climb on a bed was to take a running leap onto the bed. This would result in the occupant of the bed being pushed out the bed as his speed and weight hit the bed. He would then snuggle into the bed and try to get under the duvet but all he would do is push the duvet to the bottom of the bed. Such a softy and such an adorable boy.

Sam truly believed if he could not see you as he was hiding his face in his paws, you were unable to see him – he would always be surprised when we said to him “Sam, we can see you, outside now!” When he stood on all fours he was higher than our kitchen table but believed he was still a puppy.

We have been blessed by many animals in our lives and there have been those really special one like Tatty, Teddy-Pogglebee and Nikita and Jessie who was our very muched loved CHILD Fox Terrier ;who were humans with fur. Very much a part of our family and who we loved dearly and still miss them to this day.

Life Goes On

I was visiting friends last night. This is our Wednesday Evening Date and he was discussing my Blog with me.

He commented that if he did not know me he would thing the following of me:



1. I am a party Animal

2. I am clumsy and accident Prone

3. I am a raving lunatic

4. I am a magnet for catastrophe (Well this part is true)

5. That my children are raving Lunatics

6. That my whole Family are stark raving mad

7. And his final add to his list was, I am one very strange person


I listened and digested his comments and realized form an outsider’s point of view -Yeah I suppose this does seem to be the impression created by my little antic dotes.


My Life has been a bit of a circus and full of trials and tribulations but it has been filled with so much laughter and I have decided that these special moments are the ones to focus on and leave the ugly bits to the dark recesses of my memory.


The collections of stories are from my child hood and up to recent times, so in 46 years of being on this wonderful planet of ours, I am sure I have quite a few boring stories to tell. I will not however go into these details, so I confess to the following:


1. I am one of the sanest Lunatics you will ever meet. I over analyze every situation and maybe tend to become a little erratic at times. (Well my children will agree)

2. My artistic talent allows for my slight exaggeration at times of how bad a situation may be or I may use a little more theatrical description to describe my life.

3. I do enjoy the odd glass of Red Wine and Hooligan Juice but I am not a big Drinker. (For personal reasons I will never be a big drinker)

4. My Children are amazing and have given me the best experiences ever and I thank them for allowing me to share their stories and not have to hide their identities. It can’t be easy having me as their MOM!

5. My l life I am sure will not suddenly become this bed of Roses and I will overcome the obstacles thrown my way as I have always done – with a laugh and a step forward and sometimes a very heavy Heart, but I will continue. My Bern helps me get through many a tearful night and tearful day and together we have literally Faced death and we overcame this and continue on our life’s journey.

6. My Family are my stability and I have been blessed with the most wonderful brothers and sisters

7. My Friends are precious and they have agreed to let me use them in my blog so I love them for this too.

8. My stories are True, they really happen as I describe them, and enjoy sharing them.

My hope is that they are equally enjoyed by the people who read them.
I will continue and I do appreciate the odd Skype asking where my daily Blog is, or the mail I receive describing how the reader needed medical assistance after reading it due to the fact they were paralytic with laughter.

Thank you for your words of encouragement.

Well that is all I have to say, my next blog is in the beginning stages still and I am sure I will have it up and ready very soon.