Been a long time

Been a long time since I posted, and to be honest much of the reason has been my mood. It would be fair to say that offered a lobotomy without anaesthetic I’d have been baring my bottom in a shapeless hospital gown, and leaping onto the gurney with a hi-ho-silver-get-me-into-surgery-now song.

No come on now, this is not going to be a wet nose and tissue blog. 

So what’s been happening?  Well hubby and I had started making some important life changes at the end of last year. And based on these, we sold our house, we began sorting out our possessions and we were heading back to the UK after living in SA for well over 30 years.

This was an exciting time, my smile was permanent, and I’m pretty sure it stayed that way even while I was asleep. Admittedly not a good look  - thankfully the lights were out.

And then wham, the whole thing fell apart. Yes the house went through, and yes our possessions began to diminish, but no we did not make it back to the UK.  Selling a business right now it appears is not all that easy.

So now what? Do we buy a tent? Or should we hitch a caravan to the back of the car and settle in a different street every night? I must say, the caravan option became rather appealing when I realised I could use my hair-dryer by attaching an electrical cable to some unsuspecting home owners power box.  

In the end we bought another house. Now I know you are probably thinking NUTTERS,  what was the point. But we had another plan, which we have creatively named phase 2.

The new house is so different to anything we have ever lived in. It’s a 2 bedroom, 1 bathroom, tiny garden, no garage, no room for a dish-washer, cottage. Which when you consider we left a 3 bedroom, double garage, 2 bathrooms, big garden, dishwasher, 2 washing machines and tumble dryer, is quite a life-style change.

But you know what? WE LOVE IT! What a blast this place is, easy to keep tidy – well maybe not for all of us – housework takes about 3 minutes and I even enjoy washing up. I’ve become a bit of sink-demon though, i.e. if that sink has dirty dishes longer than 5 minutes the whole world is gonna blow-up, so best you get in there and sort it missy/mr. How pleasant it must be living with me  

We will stay here until the business is sold, and then who knows, we might keep this little gem, or we may sell and look for another one.  Life will take us where it wants us  

Have a great weekend everyone. I’ll be back soon with our house contents sale story. Picture 60 people launching themselves into your home with only 1 hour to grab and buy whatever they can get their hands on and you’ll be on the right track.

 

where’s my Q gone?

How bonkers is this?  3 days ago my ‘Q’ button worked, and now it doesn’t.  Talk about frustrating. I mean I never even thought I used the bloomin’ key that much…hmmm, seems I do.

Not having a ‘Q’ bodes well with my Woollies shopping experience last night.  Yes the dreaded ‘Q’ at Constantia village really got my goat going.  They’ve instituated a great system of different ‘Q’s’ for express and mammoth loads.  The trouble is the signage has been hung so badly all you see is the side of the sign until you are standing right underneath it.  Only then, once you’ve twisted your neck and subseuently phoned the chiropractor, you begin to fully understand why the people in the correct ‘Q’s' ahead of you are glaring over their fresh veggies and extra, extra virgin olive oil at you.

Well there was no way I was moving.  I’d spent the last 10 mins in the wrong ‘Q’, as had many others, and the Staff there would have needed the entire Sussman clan to arrive and attempt removing me.  And trust me I would have put up a fight, we’re talking lobbing rolls and potatoes here. 

Needless to say I gave the supervisor an earfull, left and came home to glass of wine that didn’t do much, so I had another one.

Back to the missing ‘Q’, my daughter has lost the pad to her letter ‘E’. Is there a conspiracy against us or something?

With missing kyes in mind I feel I should end with a farewell of sorts…  “Q E, how you doing?”

 

 

 

 

F

I am no longer a bunch of little purple flowers

Big day for me, not only am I awake and functioning at 7.13 am – well I’m at the office at least – I’ve also evolved into a little bird.

What does this mean to you?

Probably not a lot, but just wanted to let you know that this is how I will be visiting your blogs from now on. 

have a great day everyone

 

 

Women and propaganda – this could make you laugh

One of my favourite places to visit when I’m in London – as one does – is the Imperial War Museum.   An added attraction being it’s free, which on a cold and wet day makes it a brilliant place to be.   

Each time I go I find something different to see, but I always try to do the WWl trench exhibit, which sadly this time was shut for renovations.  Maybe they needed to add some extra pongy-sulphur sprayers, or build in some booby traps to further frighten the life out of you as you make your way around, but whatever it was I didn’t get a chance to hear that rumble of bombs and feel… well… to put it bluntly, cheated.

Anyway there were other things to entertain me, and apart from being reported to security for taking photos where I shouldn’t have been – I swear I did not see the signs – I had a great war time meal of macaroni cheese served on a tin plate and a good old piece of cake that really did taste as if it was a relic of both wars.

But the one thing that really made me roar was the selection of postcards depicting war time slogans, of which many were really quite rude about women.  How the  gals of the time didn’t knock the cigar out of old Churchill’s smug mug is beyond me.

Take a look at these few and let me know what you think.  My favourite must surely be the children, not only are they adorable, but more so because the slogan is just so wrong.

Who you calling dumb matey?!

 

Podcasts, Desert Island Discs and what I’d take with…

I’ve had my iPod for a couple of gazillion years now, and every so often I plug it into my ears and listen to some really dreadful music, which considering I put the tracks there myself is kind of sad.

This little device also has loads of other features which I never use – I mean how many electronic calendars can you operate at any given time?  It would take me longer to update them all with “get up and brush your teeth” than actually  squeezing on the toothpaste.

But one little feature I have hovered over is the Podcast.  Now I’ve always thought Podcasts are brief little ditty’s to occupy the boredom between wrestling with making supper …or not.  And being a little bored this week I went in search of some Free Podcasts to give them  a try.  Well wasn’t I just surprised by the offering.  There are literally thousands you can subscribe to.

I fell on the BBC’s  listing on iTunes and was delighted to discover they were indeed free and updated weekly.   I was also really pleased to find I can subscribe without registering on the site, which is amazing as nearly every webpage you connect to these days wants to know more about you than your own mother.

I’ve tried not to go bonkers with my choice and have subscribed to the following:

• Graham Norton’s – radio show
• Desert Island Discs
• Women’s Power Hour
• Rhod Gilbert
• Books and Authors
• And from Radio 702 and Cape Talk 567  the UK report

At this point I’ve listened to 2 episodes of Graham Norton and had a mighty good chuckle while doing so, plus 3 episodes of Desert Island Discs where the Castaways have been Michael Mcintyre, John Bishop and Dawn French.

So this got me thinking about the few tracks I do enjoy on my iPod, and would therefore select if I was ever asked to participate on the show – when I’m rich and famous and should anybody be interested in listening to me that is.

Remembering you are only allowed to select 8 discs for this show, here would be mine:

Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears – this one I put on repeat a lot.  And mostly it’s blasting away in my car as I head to the office, and then again when I leave on a Friday as a form of psyching me up for my weekly grocery shop

Day Dream Believer by the Monkees – so had a crush on Davy Jones when I was a kid.  Used to watch “The Monkees” show on the TV and dreamt of joining the band as Davy’s girlfriend and have him sing to me all day long

Valerie by Steve Winwood – no story just love it

Truly Madly Deeply by Savage Garden – makes me think of the UK

Lovely Day by Bill Withers – no story just love it

Africa by Toto – I arrived in SA in 1981 and when this song came out in 1982 it just seemed so right to like it

Tainted Love by Soft Cell – this was a massive hit in the UK in 1981.  I carried a 45 vinyl copy in my luggage and finding nobody had ever heard of it in Warmbaths – where I started off, what a story that is – felt strongly that I was living amongst a bunch of retards.  Although I hasten to add I don’t think that any more and would like to send a big HELLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO to all my Warmbaths followers.  You know who you are….actually are there any of you out there?

Rock your Baby by George Macrae – this so reminds me of my Dad.  Every single time I hear it I picture him boogeying around the living room.  He’s a short bloke and great fun and seems to have a right leg that just wants to twist.  How could you not like a song that does that to your Dad?

Now I’ve shared mine, how about you?  Any castaway songs you’d choose, and also any great podcasts to recommend?

The moon and the neighbours

Think I mentioned somewhere that hubby went away for the festive season – just checked him in for his return flight tomorrow night   Does anybody know if New Year Flights have any fun activities, bopping in the aisles or free Champagne?

Anyhoooooo, while he’s been away I’ve been in charge of the whole house, in and out.  What this means is I have to do all those jobs I gently suggest he do i.e. pick up the doggie poop, water the garden, sweep the leaves and water the garden.  I’ve quite enjoyed them…well maybe not the poopy bit, and have become a pro at dodging the sprinkler as I charge in, grab it and reposition.

Admittedly I did have a couple of mishaps, for instance I now know it’s probably not a good idea to switch the water off before removing one sprinkler device and attaching another.  I’m talking Wet T-Shirt champion here, clearly not for the body beneath, but rather the amount of water I can retain in my T-shirt.

I’ve also learnt how to attach the grass cutting bucket thing to the mower, which is a double first for me, because this is the very, very, first time I have ever, and I mean ever, mowed the lawn.  Now I’ve lived in a lot of houses so that says a lot. Do we put this down to hen-pecked hubby, or lazy-wife – may I suggest you choose your reply carefully!!!!!

So where does the moon and the neighbours fit into all of this?  Well part of the gardening chores includes dead-heading the roses, and true to form I’ve embraced this task.  Every day I clutch my scissors and pace up and down the rose bushes, eyes narrowed, itching to decapitate any dead looking blooms.  The other morning  I was a little distracted, and as women do began multi-tasking, as in, undressing for the shower, sweeping the floors and dead heading the roses.

Now bearing in mind dead heading can require bending, it may not have been a good idea to do this while I was partially clothed – blushes slightly.  The end result of this full moon incident is I now find my neighbours have suddenly shut windows and pulled down blinds.  Somewhat embarrassed I am hoping it’s all coincidental and I that will discover they are in fact away and not avoiding me … and a repeat performance.

I of course now find myself in a quandary, should I take a pound of mince pies around and hope they don’t slam the door in my face, or should I stay clear for a few months and let the image fade in their minds?  Oh, decisions, decisions…

 

 

All cats are black in the dark

Sat down to have a pleasant breakfast with hubby yesterday morning. We’d gone mad and decided to have a fried egg sandwich in white bread.  I mention the white bread because frankly for me, a fried egg does not work well between 2 slices of brown bread.

We munch and chat and fall on the topic of books.

In between mouthfuls hubby says to me, “is that the “all cats are black in the dark” book?”

Confused, yet intrigued I respond, “what’s that about?”

“You know, the one that everybody is reading but is written so badly.”

Can you guess what he was talking about?

It took me a while, but the book in question is “Fifty Shades of Grey.”

Let’s leave it at that shall we.  But, the mention of shade leads me nicely into the following.

We struggle with our garden, the soil is not good and much of the year the beds are in shade. With that in mind hubby planted a hydrangea in what we assumed would be an ideal spot.  At this time of the year though, the sun hits a couple of spots and we generally manage to hang onto our plants and grass.

This year, the sun at the moment is lethal, and with the howling wind our garden is taking strain, as is the hydrangea.  Hubby, known for his practical rather than aesthetic skills, creates a form of shading for this lovely plant.  And here it is.

Yes folks, if you want one, they are easily put together. All you need is a spade, umbrella and piece of wire of sorts.

Classic….I think not!