2 weeks of doing . . .

So here I am, almost 2 weeks into my holiday, in fact, this coming Monday it’s all about back to work, and what has been achieved?

Not an awful lot.

My intentions were good mind. Sew and write. Or write and sew. Either way, come today, expectations had been high. Half a novel at least, even if it’s a shitty first draft. Loads of sewing, crafty and clothes – definitely not cushions.

Tally up as of this morning:

Words written – 0

Stitches stitched – 0

Immediate response to this? Get the flipping sewing machines out and at some point hit the blog at least once before Monday

Result:

Sewing – 2 face masks – different styles. Both steam my glasses up! What the blazes? How do you get by this little snag? I also feel a little like Darth Vadar, deep breathing and muffled speech.

Writing – this blog

Evidence:

Here are my masks, made from scraps, courtesy Youtube tutorials

 

Hang on a minute – Wispa eating

photo of woman running on field
Photo by Wendy Wei on Pexels.com

Feeling a little bit along the lines of needing to run around the park, hands flying, mouth wide, guttural sounds frightening the neighbourhood – cabin fever hit big – I managed to compose myself for a very short while before the call of the Wispa chocolate bar hit me.

Wispa, my new favourite. This past Easter the Hubster and I had a DE-LI-CIOUS Wispa Easter Egg. Man, did we enjoy it. The egg itself was neither here nor there, the bars themselves were the winners.

Back to last night then. There was a brief face-off while contemplating the sensible option of eating only half the bar.  The internal argument being by eating half tonight, then the calories will be half the bar, and tomorrow evening the rest could be consumed, therefore keeping my calorie controlled daily intake in check – yeah right on that thought, what’s a calorie-controlled daily intake?

Or

I could eat the entire bar last night and not have any chocolate today. Perfect. 2 days of chocolate in one go. Surely that works?

What did I do?

Gif courtesy of here: SMILE

Easy, shoved the whole darn bar down my gullet.

What happens tonight when the Hubster hovers more chocolate within my reach?

I’m pretty sure that question is easily answered. After some well thought out logic that confirms, tonight, I will be eating next Thursday’s chocolate, the Wispa wrapper will be off.

Happy Saturday

 

 

 

 

 

15 mins – had a thought

white bubble illustration

Driving to work this morning, navigating my way around more roundabouts than should be legally built in one city, I had a thought.

My mood lifted, my grin grew.

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Photo by Emily Hopper on Pexels.com

Yes. Finally. Something to blog about. Something fun. Indeed, the kick up the backside needed to sit me at the keyboard again. Quickly the entire blog was mapped out in my mind. A little humour here, a little nonsense there, a little sharing of me. Perfect in every way. What was that? Did you mention modesty?

Several roundabouts later and quickly heading into the building, my plan was to ignore my normal daily tasks and, cheekily, whack out an email to myself, of said blog, for copy and paste and publish later on. Who would question my furious taping at the keyboard? Not a sausage.

two sausages on charcoal grill
Photo by Mateusz Dach on Pexels.com

What could go wrong?

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Palm to forehead. I bloody well forgot it all. No hints, no a-ha moments. Nothing,

Note to self: Numpty!

 

 

Purpose of this blog. No purpose. Only a place to write for 15 minutes. Thank you so much for dopping by

15 minutes with Cape Town

So today, my ninth day in Cape Town, it is time to say farewell – for now. I’ll be back. You can’t keep me away.

Despite knowing my return will be soon, my heart is sore and it will be a tough one. Time to man-up, or should that be woman-up, and enjoy my family and diarise my arrival date once more. That’s the best way to deal with the goodbye, have a date of arrival up and ready.

Time here has been superb. Been out to a few nice places and ate far too much. The heat generally is a bit of a no-no, even when living here, but this visit it was a little too much too soon, no doubt after spending a LOT of time in the chilly old UK. Sweating, flipping heck, you’d think there was no liquid left in my body.

Went to Boschendal for lunch – love this place, can’t come here without going there. Stunning day, simple yet delicious food – baby marrow griddle cakes, poached egg, whipped goats cheese and a green salad with a tangy-sweet dressing, courtesy of The Deli. I did have a photo, but it’s crap. And of course a perfect, chilled glass of wine.

Went to the Mount Nelson for morning High Tea – oh my goodness, amazing food, amazing place, another favourite to visit when here. Here is a photo taken from The Nellies web – thank you Nellie. And yes, it is just like this image, if only you could scratch it and smell it.

nelson tea

Went to Protege in Franschhoek. Again, superb food, brilliantly hot day. We did the Reduced menu (4 courses), which was in all honesty too much for such a hot day, but you know what, if you are there, you’ve just got to do it! Had a nice glass of bubbles there too. Actually, I digress slightly, was with my daughter who was having her nails done at 10am at the Waterfront, Battery Park, when a lady came in, jeans, cap, long tresses, made up to the nines. “Would you like a drink,” the receptionist asked.

“Yes, please,” she said.

“Sparkling or still water,” the receptionist said.

“Oh,” the glam gal said. “Sparkling. Sparkling wine.”

A little chuckle to myself, but you know what if you’re offered, why not have it. Needless to say she enjoyed that glass of sparkling wine while being pampered, and quite honestly I would have taken the sparkling wine too.

Protégé+Food+18

photo borrowed from Protege – thank you Protege

Back to Protege. The reduced menu started with a plate of snacks, which were almost enough to not need another morsel to pass my lips. Again, I wish there was a photo of the food, but go look at the site to get an idea. Here is the menu:

SNACKS

Sourdough, chicken butter, biltong, olives, confit garlic

Edamame beans, sriracha and sesame

Korean fried chicken, coriander, buttermilk

STARTERS

 Miso seared Tuna, Spiced squid, crisp jalapeno, avocado

OR

Beetroot Tart, smoked olive, semi-dried tomato, capers, sage, goats cheese

OR

Kerala style Kingklip, labneh, pickles, curried sultana

OR

Confit Pork roti, kimchi, miso aubergine, Ponzu mayonnaise, pickled cucumber

MAINS

 Cauliflower risotto, chermoula, dukkah

OR

Springbok loin, red cabbage, baby spinach, smoked pomme puree, stone fruit

OR

Linefish, salsa verde, sweetcorn, Cape Malay relish

Or

Karoo lamb rump, caponata, Jerusalem artichoke, herb soubise, Peri peri

DESSERT

 Cheese selection and homemade preserves

OR

Dark chocolate cocoa bean, peanut, pistachio and raspberry

OR

Mango, pineapple, coconut and meringue

One last stop to eat too much, La Belle for breakers at the Alphen. Last meal of indulgence before steamed fish and veggies becomes the norm for a few weeks.

la belle

Photo borrowed from La Belle at The Alphen– Constantia – thank you La Belle

So there you are, loads of food, there were other places too only these were the highlights.

What else is good while here? Well I feel healthier, happier and more creative. Hmm, so how can I get around all that back in the UK? Good question, and one to ponder. Only not today. Nope, noppity-no, today is about enjoying and being with the people I love.

Au Revoir Cape Town . . . see you again soon.

 

 

15 minutes with Facebook/social media and employment/life

abus brand close up closed
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

This past weekend I was interested to learn how a young lady is about to take up a teaching position and how her prospective employer wanted visibility of her Social Media – in this case, Facebook – before they would honour the offer.

Prior to her providing access – as in removing her privacy settings – she was asked to remove all photos, images, comments, opinions, in fact, anything that could in some way, I suppose, offer an insight into her personality, likes, dislikes, her life basically. And which would potentially allow her students and or their families . . . Well, what? Judge, comment, target, troll, stalk, befriend?

I’m a little lost about how to voice my feelings on this. The initial thought being, well who the heck does the employer think they are to be able to request access to privacy, and or almost blackmail you into giving this up, out of fear of getting a job?

Then I ponder, well perhaps they are trying to assist a new employee with navigating their way around students and parents, who can, let’s be fair, be rather demanding and or biased?

Then I think, well isn’t life really sad that we have almost got ourselves to the point where personal opinion, likes, dislikes etc are almost having to be suppressed out of fear of not finding jobs, losing jobs, forming relationships, ending relationships and oh so much more.

But of course, I will agree, there is a part of me that would like to know a little bit more about a person before taking the next step, and therefore a quick Google seems to be the way to go.

All so complicated and open to many points of view, all warranting far more than my 15 minutes worth of writing.

 

 

My blog is here as a 15 minute target writing tool. There is no theme, no plan, other than to write. Nice to see you.

15 minutes without my Valentine

stone artwork

Flipping heck, in the 25 years of being together, the hubster and I have never, and I mean never missed spending Valentines together. Not that we go all out mushy or anything, we just share a nice meal and enjoy being together. This bloody year though, I will be working on Valentines night. The graveyard shift 2.30pm – 10.30pm. WHAT! And I mean WHAT! the flaming heck am I going to do, eating my leftovers from a plastic container in the company dining room, amongst many, and I mean many other folk who are no doubt lovely, but not who I want to be with.

I look at the hubster now, snoozing at my side, in front of the TV and feel positive the same will occur tomorrow, with or without me here. But you know what, I don’t give a flying hoot, because I’d rather be next to my man, snoozing and snoring his way through Valentines, than sitting in front of a computer screen and eating leftover risotto any day.

Groaning and moaning and feeling sorry for myself over.

Happy Valentines good people

#Valentine #Valentines #Hubster

 

If you have come across my blog, welcome. It’s here for me to type for 15 minutes and then post. No great theme to the blog, other than keeping me writing

 

 

 

 

 

 

15 minutes – a long time coming

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photo: mine – Boschendal

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photo: mine – view of Waterfront Cape Town from The Silo rooftop bar

Shew, since my last post plenty has gone on. Evidently not a single spare 15 minutes to blog though!  Unbelievable.

Well, most importantly was going home to Cape Town for 2 weeks – got back last Tuesday.  Going back is not so much a holiday, rather shifting a life from the UK back to SA, slipping into our old ways and patterns effortlessly.  Loads of eating good food, drinking good wine and seeing all our family and friends.

Hubster was barely moments of the plane when he began questioning the reasons for living in the UK again. Prompted by being gloved in the stunning blue of the sky, and space and familiarity. If it’s possible to be gloved in space.

Back in the UK there was an abrupt reminder of winter having arrived. And how dark it is by 5pm. Honestly can’t remember this from last year. We’ve already looked for the shortest day and willing the longer days to begin again.

Jobs to do today:

  1. blog – tick and done
  2. garden – shoes are ready, need to get a warm jacket and hat
  3. go to work
  4. catch up on Strictly

#needtodream

 

 

 

15 minutes and the need to rewind time

Eternal_clock

Image from HERE

Licking breakfast marmalade from my fingers, hubster is considering his next move to wash-up or head out to run.

“What’s the time?” I said.

“Huh,” he says, a sense of glee in his voice alerting me this is not going to be as easy as it should be. “The clock says 7.58, the radio says 8.01, so it must be 9am.”

“You what?”

“I’m running at 9am, you asked me.”

“No, I asked you what the time is.”

“No, you asked me what time I’m running.”

Giving up licking marmalade, I reply. “I didn’t. I asked you what the time is and you said, The clock says 7.58, the radio says 8.01, so it must be 9am.”

Hubster sits down. “No, you asked me what time I’m running.”

“Well if I did, then why did you tell me it was sometime between 7.58 and 8.01?”

Hubster looks at me, that way he does when he really wants to end the conversation and pretend it hasn’t happened, as in, little smile, almost a flutter of his eyelids.

“Wouldn’t it be nice,” I said, trying hard not to stop licking fingers and start chewing them. “If we could have a rewind button and remove the last 90 seconds of our life?”

Hardly surprising to learn we both agreed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What the heck is this blog about?

Should you have fallen onto this blog, the purpose it serves is to ignite my love of writing once more by simply typing whatever is on my mind for 15 minutes and stopping

Hubby, Dogs and Trees

Hi there,

Phew, life has been really busy for me.  Not life changing or anything dramatic mind,  just not enough hours in the day to do everything.

Anyway, as you know I like to share a few snippets about my hubby,  so here we go with his latest “moment.”

The past weekend was really good in our household, weather was pleasant, no rushing around, youngest daughter was out, doggies were sprawled and I’d managed to cook a reasonable Sunday lunch.  In short, a smiley weekend.

So there we were, Sunday late-lunch is done and we are now heading off to the forest for a much needed walk.  Doggies were loaded, we climb into the van with stars and hearts  floating around the pair of us – picture a  love struck movie and you’ll get the idea.

Within seconds of leaving the perimeter Vesuvius erupted and by the time we reached the forest – a mere three minutes later – we were both about ready to toss each other out of our moving vehicle.

I get out the van, slamming the door with enough force to fool the neighbourhood of a pending earthquake, and hubby does the same.  We both take hold of a doggie, I head off, hubby does too and WHAM, he walks into a tree.  Now I didn’t see this happen, so after hearing a noise, I turn round and find him down on one knee holding his head in his hand.  First thought was,  my goodness, bit late to propose, darling.

Suffice to say, I was not very supportive and spent a considerable amount of time trying not to laugh…to be exact the whole way round the forest through to the following day.

Now, hubby, who I love more than anything in the universe, holds me responsible for anything he cannot find or see.  I swear if he lived alone he would have to acquire a multi-personality called Ruth to accuse of moving all and sundry.  And if there is no way I was around and find myself reprieved of accusation, then the nearest person in sight is to blame. I tell you this because of the next point.

Monday morning, calm has restored, I have not yet managed to ask him about his head.  Cruel you may think, but in my defence, m’lord,  my lips can’t control themselves and I start resembling the joker.

“How is your head, darling,” I manage to mumble.

“Sore.”

“I thought you might blame me for putting the tree in the way.”

“No,” he says, touching his graze.  “It’s the dog’s fault.”