Thank You Mom!

As a little girl, the thing I probably hated most in the world.... was getting sand between my toes.

To keep me from whingeing on the beach, my mom would carry me all the way from the grass to the water's edge to paddle and then back again.

"Look! Yucky sand between my toes!" circa 1977

Thank you mom for all the little things you have done for me....

Happy Mother's Day!

One Decade

Ten years ago today, I stood under a hot African sun, in front of 40 of our close friends and family, and said these words to the man standing next to me...

From this day forward I promise you these things.

I will laugh with you in times of joy

and comfort you in times of sorrow.

I will share in your dreams, and support you as you strive to achieve your goals.

I will listen to you with compassion and understanding,

and speak to you with encouragement.

I will help you when you need it, and step aside when you don't.

I will remain faithful to you for better or worse, in times of sickness and health.

You are my best friend and I will love and respect you always.

A lot has happened in our first decade of marriage.

Just one week after our wedding, we boarded a plane to London - with one-way tickets and all our worldly belongings in two suitcases between us to start a new life in the UK. And what an adventure it has been!

Between us we've had 7 jobs... some of which we've hated (with She-Devil bosses from hell), but finally we are both reasonably content. We aim to work to live, never live to work....

We've taken on the complete renovation of a Previous-Owner's-DIY-Experiment-Gone-Horribly-Wrong of a house.

We've travelled... to West Coast USA, Canada, the Caribbean, South Africa, The Maldives, Egypt, Malta, Italy, Spain, Portugal, France, Belguim, the Czech Republic, Romania, Norway, Slovenia, Switzerland, and all around the UK and Channel Islands. Vietnam and Cambodia beckon in 2012...

We've experienced scuba diving, snorkeling, skiing, snowshoeing, dogsledding, paragliding, hot air ballooning, mountain biking, hiking, driving a Ferrari and indoor skydiving. Some of these activities ended better than others!

We've learnt a bit about Aikido... and have the bruises to show for it! One of us has ended up with his leg in plaster for 3 months after a freak football-in-the-park incident.

We've witnessed friends' matching and then hatching a whole brood of littl'uns.

We've become aunt and uncle four times over and godparents twice.
 
Sadly, we've watched my dad put up a brave fight against cancer, and finally lose.  And we've seen how this dreadful disease plays havoc with the families of so many of our close friends.

We've watched the world changed by the explosion of technology, gadgets and social networking.

We've witnessed the global economic downturn, revolutions, wars, famine, natural disasters and much of the world's population suffering on a large scale.

We've counted ourselves lucky to live the comfortable, privileged lives that we do.

We've laughed, we've cried... and we've talked and talked.

What will the next decade bring?
 

The Girl With The Violet Eyes

Elizabeth Taylor

27 February 1932 - 23 March 2011

I do think the term “Hollywood Legend” is bandied about too often these days…but I also think that today we lost a genuine one.

Some famous quotes of the great actress-philanthropist....

"If someone's dumb enough to offer me a million dollars to make a picture, I'm certainly not dumb enough to turn it down."

“Some of my best leading men have been dogs and horses.”

“I am a very committed wife. And I should be committed too – for being married so many times.”

“The problem with people who have no vices is that generally you can be pretty sure they’re going to have some pretty annoying virtues.”

“If it is not to make the world better what is money for?”

“When people say, ‘She’s got everything’, I’ve got one answer – I haven’t had tomorrow.”

My Family And Other Animals

Whilst going through some of my dad's things recently, I came across some vintage photographs of several family members, including my grandparents. I find them fascinating as they are of a generation that has now passed. Yet they remain forever captured in these photographs, these people who are a large part of my ancestry....

My paternal grandmother, Mary Eileen (left) and her sister,
circa 1919. I didn't inherit her blonde, curly hair but apparently I have her thumbs...I'll never really know as she died from cancer aged 56 before I was born.

My maternal grandmother, Anna Dorothy, circa 1922. She looks so sweet and innocent here, but my gran had a wicked side...she once told me that as a little girl she would stick pins through the end of her shoes and kick a little boy she hated (he the adopted son of her favourite aunt).

Anna and her father (my great-grandfather), circa 1929. He passed away when my gran was only 14, and, as the eldest child, she had to leave school and start work to help support a large family.

Two Likely Lads... my maternal grandfather, Cornelius (left) and one of his brothers. Both joined the South African Army at the outbreak of WWII. My grandfather (an engineer) never left the shores of South Africa but my great-uncle was sent to Egypt, where he claimed to have single-handedly defeated Rommel's Afrika Korps.

Another photo of my grandfather, with my mom as a little girl, circa 1942. My grandfather was quite a character... always the joker, and sadly a bit of an alcoholic. He lost his leg in a hunting accident when I was very small, and never really recovered. He died when I was 9 years old, and my gran came to live with us until she passed away in 1999, aged 80.

I don't have any early photos of my paternal grandfather, George (right) - this one is taken with my dad (left) on my brother's Christening Day, 1970. I only saw my grandfather a handful of times, as by the time I was born, he had emigrated to Australia and remarried. He lived there until his death aged 92 in 2003.

Both sets of grandparents on my brother's Christening Day, 1970

Do you know much about your grandparents or even your great grandparents?

Monumental Love

On a recent trip to London, I ended up walking through Kensington Gardens, and past the awe-inspiring Albert Memorial, created by the heartbroken Queen Victoria when her beloved Albert died (aged 42) from typhoid in 1861.

The romance between Queen Victoria and Prince Albert ranks with the greatest in history. I thought it quite fitting to share my photos of the Albert Memorial with you all today, a day devoted to love and romance...

The 176 feet (54 m) memorial was designed by Sir George Gilbert Scott in the Gothic Revival style, took over ten years to complete, and cost £120,000 (the equivalent of about £10,000,000 in 2010).

On the four diagonal corners, are representations of the continents Europe, Asia, Africa and America. These recall the four corners of the world which came together at the Great Exhibition of 1851 that was Prince Albert’s incredibly successful idea to showcase culture and industry. 

Europe Group

Asia Group

America Group

Africa Group

The gilded Prince Albert sits at the centre, surveying London from his throne....

“Queen Victoria and Her People

to the memory of Albert Prince Consort

as a tribute of their gratitude

for a life devoted to the public good”

Happy Valentine's Day!

Just a Sweet Transvestite from Transexual, Transylvania

Don't get strung out by the way that I look,
Don't judge a book by its cover

I'm not much of a man by the light of day,
But by night I'm one hell of a lover

[Sweet Transvestite - The Rocky Horror Picture Show]

 

Inspired by Pat Tillett’s hilarious post about the perils of men wearing women’s clothing, I’m going to tell you about the time B found out that cross dressing is not exactly his handbag either.

It was the early 1990s... we were young, wild and foolish, given to drinking copious quantities of alcohol and dancing all night long to heavy metal in Cape Town’s smoky, dingy student bars like the aptly named “The Pig”[1]. Just about every weekend, someone would be throwing a “digs”[2] party...too many people jammed into a tight space, drinking too much cheap booze, and shouting at each other over the too loud music. Pretty much my idea of hell these days...

This particular Saturday night was no exception... one of my friends was turning 21, and celebrating with a Rocky Horror Picture Show themed party at her digs. So... we thought we’d both go in gothic, transvestite gear, as you do... and set off kitted out in laddered fishnet stockings, Doc Marten boots, miniskirts, black lacy bras showing through red camisoles. It was a freezing winter night, but there were some other party goers making their way down the main road dressed only in suspenders and bras....much to the delight of the local police parked kerbside in their van, awaiting the ensuing antics of a typical weekend night around campus.

By the time we got to the party, it was in full throttle and people were already dangerously drunk on the punch....the host had started preparing it two days before, by soaking fruit in neat vodka. I don’t think there was any lemonade in that punch bowl, as everyone just kept topping it up with their poison of choice. A couple of cups of it and I was no longer compos mentis.

I don’t really remember what happened at the party... but the next thing I knew, B and I were staggering back along the main road towards my place, the cold night air refreshingly sobering. Our route included a stretch of the main road typically frequented by....well, let’s just say ladies who offer their charming company in exchange for cash...and it was on this particular stretch of road that a car driving past us suddenly slammed on brakes, reversed rapidly and pulled up next to us. Two guys hopped out and one of them said...

“Hey...you ladies OK? You need a lift or something?”

Now in his party gear B may have been a Dude (that) Looks Like a Lady, but even Steve Tyler would have noticed his hairy legs barely covered by fishnets, square jaw and five o’clock shadow under the heavy make-up!

“Nah, we’re OK thanks...” I said, “Don’t worry....he’s my boyfriend!”

Never in the history of disappointed men moving rapidly away from a scenario that has turned out to be not quite what they’d been hoping for, have two men gotten back into their car so quickly and driven off at high speed....followed shortly by the police van from earlier in the evening.

Had the cops come along a few seconds before, we might have had some serious explaining to do, dressed like that and discussing the possibilities of “lifts” with strange men....

[1] Nowadays a trendy pool bar in Obz
[2] Shared student housing

Happy Friday 13th!

Computer Says No!

The end is nigh! Computers are taking over the world....or our cars, at least.

Da Hoff on Da Hood

 Earlier this week, Toyota recalled its Prius model....not to rectify a mechanical fault but a software glitch. All that's needed is a quick update to recalibrate the electrically generated pedal "feel" in the braking system, which just goes to show how deeply computer control is embedded in today's cars.

And don’t I know it!

This morning I received a letter from Citroen informing me that my diesel C3 (it isn’t sexy but it is eco-friendly) needs to be “subject to an operation to download a new software version for the lighting controls.” Apparently, this will “eliminate any potential problems which would cause random switching off of the vehicle lamps”.

So I could be driving down a dark country road one stormy night and suddenly be plunged incognito? Mind you, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve driven around by night without my lights on...although those other occasions were strictly due to driver error, not a computer glitch. One night a few years back, I was embarrassingly stopped by a policeman who wondered if “Madam knew she was driving without her lights switched on?” I was driving through a town with powerful street lights at the time. However, on another particularly gormless occasion, I drove for a good five minutes down a rural road, with just the moonlight to guide me through the inky blackness, before the lights went on (in my head and on my car!)

I do like my car, but she has one annoying little feature...as soon as the temperature dips below 4°C, a warning “Risk of Ice!” flashes across on the dashboard, accompanied by an ear-piercing beep! The first time this happened, I almost swerved onto the kerb with shock and had to rush home to change my pants (by which I do mean undergarments). This "Risk Of Ice" function has really outstayed its already dubious welcome this winter....I  don't think the outside temperature has inched above 2°C since November....and I can't figure out how to turn the bleeping thing off!

Similar “helpful” but loud messages from my car’s computer system include:

“You need to find a garage now! Only 65 miles of juice left in the tank!”
“Your next service is due in 1000 miles” and
“DumbAss! You left the lights on/keys in the ignition!”

Back in the old days, we owned a decrepit, 1981 VW Golf (I think it was cream but it was hard to tell from all the rust), which had none of these high-tech features. Driving was always an adventure. Occasionally, bits and pieces would fly off and bounce down the road behind us...if the car was still running, we generally wouldn’t bother to stop to pick up the stray bit, as it obviously was not an essential engine component. The car horn was fixed to the centre of the steering wheel....I use the term “fixed” rather loosely as frequently the panel would dislodge and land in my lap while I was driving, rendering me hornless...a great disability in South Africa, where driving with one hand on the “hooter” is commonplace (I had to adapt my way of driving when we moved to the UK...amazingly, most Brits very rarely tap their horn).

Rain leaked in on the passenger side and, as the engine was fan-cooled, the Golf overheated almost daily. We somehow figured out that driving with the heater on full blast counteracted the engine heat...fine in winter but not so cool in the long, hot Cape summers. Not surprisingly, the car broke down countless times...many a morning saw me pushing the accursed heap of rust, desperately trying to get it started...at least to get it down to the local garage for yet another round of repairs.

Strangely, I felt quite sad the day we finally parted company with the old girl...I’d learnt to drive in her, grinding her gears and burning out the clutch. We had no shortage of prospective buyers...in fact for months before we sold her, complete strangers would come up to us asking if they could please buy our Golf. That dilapidated old thing? I started wondering if there were diamonds stashed in her somewhere as the rusty old bucket seemed highly desirable.

Turns out those old VW Golf cars are a mechanics dream....easily fixed and cheap to run, no onboard computers, no software upgrades....just good old fashioned nuts and bolts. Our old Golf (now lovingly restored by her new owner, the security officer/part time "Grease Monkey" at B's old workplace) will probably still be happily running along the steep, windy roads of Cape Town, long after our C3 fails to reboot one frosty morning.

Christmases Past

The very first thing that I learnt when I came to live in the UK was: Never use the word "pants" when refering to your trousers, as this can lead to embarrassing situations. For example, on a windy day, saying "I'm glad I wore pants!" (as opposed to a skirt) implies that you would typically Go Commando. On the other hand, if something is described as being pants, it means it's going horribly wrong, as in "This weather is pants!".....which brings me nicely onto the second thing I learnt.

British people have a love/hate relationship with the weather in general, and in particular with snow. It doesn’t actually snow very often (at least not down in the south), so there is great excitement when the white stuff does make a rare appearance. That excitement is pretty quickly replaced with collective annoyance as the country rapidly grinds to a halt....airports close, the transport system packs up shop and Davina McCall is forced to spend the night in her car, her fingers frozen to her iPhone as she bravely “tweets” through adversity to reassure loving fans she is still alive.

Nonetheless, snow at Christmas time is highly desired... but most years, the bookies profit while the nation’s hopes of a Dickensian scene are dashed. This year, expectations are greater than usual ...the snow that fell three days ago is still lying on the ground with more predicted to be on the way. Will this be the year we finally get to experience a "white Christmas"...or will all our dreams turn to slush?

After growing up in the southern hemisphere, where Christmas lands slap bang in the middle of summer, it took me a couple of years to get used to this reversal of seasons. Christmas days of my childhood were likely spent gathered around the pool, and lunch was typically cold ham or chicken and salads, or a barbeque/braai, depending on your cultural leanings. My family often spent Christmas on holiday in South Africa, on the southern KwaZulu-Natal coast. For landlocked Zimbos, going “Down South” was lekker, man... a holiday of sun, surf and sand and the opportunity for a shopping spree. In the early 1980s, everything was scarce in Zimboland...toothpaste, light bulbs, toilet paper (I shit you not!). People horded basic goods and everyone knew someone who had just returned from South Africa and was selling tins of sardines or Oil of Ulay at inflated prices.

My parents had a Citroen DS,  like this one....

Equipped with a massive boot, spacious back seat and hydropneumatic self-leveling suspension, the DS was perfect for carting goodies back over the border. Laden down with all our Christmas presents and a year’s supply of tinned fish, dried fruit and toiletries, it’s a wonder the weight of the car didn’t break Alfred Beit Bridge, landing us all in the croc-infested waters of the Limpopo.

One of the most traumatic events of my early life occurred during one such shopping spree, at a large department store in Durban. My parents went off to buy our Christmas presents, leaving me in the care of my older brother....only he wandered away in search of Scalextric cars and I was suddenly all alone.

Terrified, I started running up and down the shop aisles desperately looking for my Mummy....and ran straight into the arms of a burly shop assistant. He took me, screaming and struggling, to the store’s office, where the store manager tried to find out my name so that he could send out a message to my parents over the PA system. I was offered bags of sweets, but I was having none of it.....didn’t my mom always say I was not to talk to strangers? Well this candy-touting dude looked pretty strange to me and I took my mom’s instructions to heart (at the age of 6, I punched the doctor who was trying to examine me as my mom also said I was never to let anyone touch me).

Eventually, the store manager made an announcement that a little girl with long dark hair, wearing pink shorts and a purple top, and refusing to talk is looking for her mom and dad. Luckily, my parents immediately realised that little girl was me and were over to fetch me in seconds. As for my errant brother, he was unperturbed by my absence and then highly disappointed that I’d turned down the offer of unlimited sweets.

Aren’t brothers just the best?

Warning! Contains Nuts

As today is our eighth year wedding anniversary, I’m going to indulge in some nostalgic thoughts with my take on this meme that’s been circulating in bloggersphere....

1. Where/How did you meet? As students, through a mutual friend (who now entrusts us to be godparents of his youngest...little does he know we’ll be relaying stories of his wild youth when she’s ready to handle them). We met at dinner, B opened the conversation with an insult, I retaliated and we haven’t let up since as both of us are determined to have the last word. Suppose whoever outlives the other will finally take the crown....

2. How long have you known each other? Almost 15 years.

3. How long after you met did you start dating? A couple of months.

4. Who asked whom out? It was a vague agreement. There were a lot of crossed wires at the time...

5. Where was your first date? Cavendish Square, Cape Town.... a movie, “Shawshank Redemption”, followed by KFC....he sure knew how to treat a lady!

6. What is your song? Bryan Adams, “Summer of ‘69”....can you believe Cheesy Disco Man played that at my office Xmas do? Suppose it is a rather cheesy song...

7. How long did you date before you were engaged? We were officially shacked up together after two years...engaged four years later.

8. Who proposed and how? It was a mutual agreement....he’d brought up the possibility a few times but I wasn’t ready until the end of my student days was in sight. I did make him go down on one knee and ask me properly in the end...

9. How old were you when you got married? We were both 27.

10. Where was your wedding? The Wild Rose Country Lodge, Noordhoek. We were married in the herb courtyard under a baking hot sun.

11. How many people were in your wedding party? Just two – best man and best woman.

12. Are you still friends with them all? Best man is the best friend anyone could ever have...he flew out to Cape Town from London for our wedding and then put up with us squatting in his flat for 6 whole months when we first moved to the UK.  We don’t get to see him often enough...he has a lot of clocks to wind...oh, and a newborn son to look after.

Best woman remains a special, faraway friend.

13. How many people came to your wedding reception? We kept it small at 40, just close friends and immediate family.

14. What did you serve for your meal? We got married early in the morning, so it was breakfast...as in fruit, muffins, pastries, bacon, sausage and eggs, with champagne and orange juice followed by tea/coffee and cake.

15. What kind of cake did you serve? Carrot cake covered with butter icing and fresh cherries and strawberries. I baked the cake myself, but as there was no time to make it fresh the day before the wedding, I made it the month before and froze it. I did a trial run first though, just to be sure....baked the cake and froze it for the same length of time, then defrosted and got everyone to taste. Yes, a tad OCD...but that’s me.

16. Most special moment of your wedding day? It was all special...great to have all family and friends from near and far all together.

17. Any funny moments? I’d guessed correctly that my dad was going to bring up the issue of lobolo as a joke during his speech. He said he’d calculated that B owed him as least 10,000 head of cattle (or nearest cash offer) for his bride. B responded that he’d done some of his own calculations; based on the exchange rate to the Zimbabwean dollar (which was about one thousand billion million to the British pound by then...and it hadn’t hit free fall yet). So he reckoned “a tenner should just about cover it”, and pulled out a £10 note. To this day, B still harps on about "buying" me for £10 and he thinks he may have overpaid, etc, etc.

18. Any big disasters? Does half of the guests suffering sunstroke during the ceremony qualify as a disaster?

Minor panic when the Marriage Registrar arrived with his wife in tow, despite telling us she would not be able to attend the reception...luckily there was an extra place setting as one of my friend’s husband became an ex-husband between the time of invitation and the wedding, and he decided he would not grace us with his presence.

19. Describe your wedding outfit. I wore a powder blue suit...skirt and fitted jacket with silk camisole and silver sandals.

20. What kind of flowers did you have at your wedding? Some friends got married two days before us and they donated the flowers from their church service (two huge arrangements of white lilies still beautiful and fresh) that we placed in the courtyard for the ceremony. My mother-in-law arranged little bowls of red and pink Namaqualand daisies, interspersed with reeds sprayed with gold paint for the tables. I carried a dozen roses.

21. Where did you go on your honeymoon? We spent the night at the Wild Rose, then went back to our flat to pack up our sparse belongings and hand over the keys to the new owners. A week later, we flew out to London to start our new life. Six years later we treated ourselves to a fortnight's “honeymoon” in the Maldives.

22. Greatest challenge as a couple? Probably moving over to the UK, trying to settle down and find jobs, etc. Thankfully, we had loads of support from Best Man.

23. Greatest strength as a couple? We complement each other...he’s calm but can be grumpy. I panic and worry but remain upbeat. We make each other laugh... a lot!

I did warn you this post contains nuts!