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.

 

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?!

 

Time for tea, pass the cake

I’ve lived in South Africa for well over 30 years now, and I love it there.   I arrived when apartheid was alive, I lived through it’s end, and I now live in the aftermath.  Sure it’s been good and it’s been bad, but putting that aside, it is an amazing country that everybody should visit at least once.

Nelson Mandela London

Now that said, I love the UK as much, if not more so… and I say that with no malice.  It’s a bit like Capetonians who worship Table Mountain and have sea in their veins.  Mine have no sea, but I’m pretty sure they are flowing with English Tea.

Big Ben

It’s funny actually, because no sooner had I booked my flight than my English accent became broader, something I only realised when I tried to buy a piece of winter clothing.  A very apologetic sales assistant advised me that said item was only available  during the South African winter.  I bit my lip and tried not to giggle at being mistaken for a tourist.

Westminster Tube London

So here I am then, loving the underground, the bus and all the walking.  I’ve embraced my new piece of plastic, the Oyster card.  And I’m as familiar with the District Line as I am with the newly named Nelson Mandela Boulevard, even if I will keep reverting back to it’s old name  - the Eastern Boulevard.

Tube Escalator

But what’s really funny to me is my relationship with food.  I’m gradually eating my way round the bakery section of Sainsbury’s … and several museums cafes…and many department store cafes too.  I’m like a demented fool, I hone in on the counter and struggle to decide what to have.  It’s torture, and then unadulterated pleasure within minutes of each other. Thank goodness for all the walking.

Pies – Borough Market London

Yesterday was really fun though, we were at the Imperial War Museum and stopped for lunch…as one does…and had a macaroni and cheese served in war time style tin dishes.  I think I smiled the whole way through it, and then I shared a carrot cake with my daughter, who was lucky I didn’t polish it all off.

National Gallery Trafalgar Square

Only a week left, and who knows how many Chelsea Buns I will consume before I leave.  If it’s too many I’ll be back to Kew Gardens for a major walk, without a return trip to the cafe for a sandwich and err, um, figgy roll.

Kew Gardens London

For those visiting London, the Imperial War Museum, the National Gallery and the Natural Science museum are all free, and well worth the visit.  I know there are others, but those three I’ve visited this time.

Popping in

Goodness,  I’ve been absent for ages!  Life just kind of got really busy and blogging had to take a break for a while.

Well at the moment I’m in the UK.  Been here for about 10 days now, and am based in  Southfields, which is where you will find Wimbledon.    Yes, that sounds pretty silly doesn’t it, I also thought Wimbledon Tennis was held in Wimbledon, but no it’s in Southfields which is 2 stops away on the tube from Wimbledon the place.

This trip is a little different to my other UK trips, when I usually stay with my parents.  This time I’m staying with my daughter and I’m able to go and visit and re-visit places of interest that I love.

So far I’ve been to:

Michael McIntyre at the O2

Harry Potter tour at Warner Bros

Kew Palace and Kew Gardens

Borough Market

Hampton Court – and yes I had a moment of panic when I found myself lost in the maze

Wimbledon – great tour, been on center court and all

Trafalgar Square and the National Gallery

London – Big Ben, Westminster Abbey etc etc – all walked by, not visited

Today we are off to the Imperial War Museum and if time Churchill’s War Rooms

I’ve got loads of photos, and will post a few shortly.

Will catch up with you all shortly, I’ve got quite a few blogs to read!

have a great day

PS

Downton Abbey Fans – just watched 2 episodes of series 3! it’s brilliant….going to be gutted to leave next week and not see the end

 

 

Olympics here we come

I do not do sport.  I do not have any desire to even think about doing sport.  But boy, do I love watching it.  I can watch almost any sport regardless of knowing the rules or not. There is of course one exception, Cricket. Rubbing balls and leg before wickets and umpires in floppy hats just can’t keep me happy.

So with the Olympics practically about to start, I am ecstatic.  I really wanted to be in the UK at this time, but you know how it goes, the 4 or 5 years I’ve know about it have flown by and now it’s too late.  Never mind, I can watch them.

On your marks

DSTV have excellent coverage lined up, and a reasonable time difference should mean I won’t have to be up too late or too early.  What I’m worried about is how to watch all the channels at the same time.  I’m one of those people who get mighty fed up if I miss even a minute of an event, or horrors, flick channels only to find Usain Bolt having his lunch having won his event a couple hours ago.  I’ve thought about PVR’ing, but there is so much to watch, I’ll never be able to catch up.

Hopefully a free Logo

With that in mind I  determined my best option was to check out the schedule on the Official OLYMPIC site. Holy cow, are they kidding me, I can’t even determine the different shades of pink let alone understand the logic.

Funny little fellows

This is going to be a tough couple of weeks.  Anybody have a strategy for me?

Well apart from all the scheduling, what is all this bow-locks regarding displaying the official Olympic circles/logo?  How ridiculous is it to stop the humble man in the street from showing his support by displaying the logo as bread rings in his bakery, or as floral rings in a florist. I can only come up with one word – GREED

Flying the flag

And finally, the opening ceremony.  Something the fashion police must surely be waiting for.

Give me an O

Give me an L

Give me a Y

Give me an M

Give me a P

Give me a I

Give me a C

Give me an S

What have we got?

OLYMPICS!  YEAH, BRING IT ON!

Dad, Yorkshire pudding and chocolate digestives

Sunday is father’s day.  And if I could have one wish this week, it would be to spend that special, special day with my lovely Dad in England.  We wouldn’t have to do much either.  I know we’d be happy watching  some rugby or soccer together, or failing that some good old TV.   Inevitably we’d be hungry, and what better meal to share than a mound of Yorkshire puddings and a packet of chocolate digestives.

 

A while ago

I miss him.

Not so long ago

 

Happy Father’s Day, Dad

Bought some new Bra’s!

Not being too blessed in the old mammary region, I’ve kind of always ended up buying Bra’s that border on the “I’m not really needed” category. You know the type, pretty boring, no under wires, sadder than sad, and downright depressing for the wearer.

 And so finally after feeling pretty inadequate and extremely miserable for far too long, I decided to venture into Bra shopping with a vengeance, coinciding this with a trip to the UK – why the UK? heaven knows. My parents were told in no uncertain terms that apart from visiting them I would be hitting the Bra shop.  Needless to say they found this very amusing and shared this with my sisters, who equally found this to be amusing and had a bit of giggle at my expense. Hmpf, lucky for them blood is thicker than water…

 Anyway I landed and within 24 hours found myself surrounded with bras of every conceivable shape and form. It was scary people, really bloody scary. Racks and racks of gorgeous and luxurious fabrics, in cup sizes I could almost live in. Honestly, some of them could have shielded me from the rain in one cup and carried my shopping in the other.

 As for the colours, they were absolutely stunning. But coming from the days of “only BAD girls” show their bra straps and even “BADDER” girls wear colorful bras that will show beneath your top, I had a hard time picking up anything other than white and beige. I walked up and down, backwards and forwards and finally I delved in with a new found feeling of who gives a damn, I’m gonna try them all on, colours and all.

 The only hesitation I had being the push-up bras.  Yes they would have done wonders for the old cleavage, but they would most certainly have left me looking as if I’d just had a boob-job. It was a shame really, because they were amazing. No longer the rigid, heavily wired contraptions of the past, today’s push-up bit – wonderfully descriptive I know – is deliciously squashy but rather large and most probably extremely comfortable to wear.

 To cut a long story short, I tried on many and came out with eight beautiful Bras that do wonders for my ego and will take pride of place in my luggage on the way home.  Heaven help any baggage handlers who knick them out of my case or damage them in anyway.  Law suit, hell you won’t know what’s hit you matey!

 EIGHT, my husband yelled down the phone at me in disbelief. Yes darling a humble eight in a variety of shapes and colours. And might I add, if you keep yelling EIGHT at me at the beginning of every sentence you might well be wearing the old ones as ear muffs when I land…