fortyfuckin'four

This whole week I've been nagging myself - you can't let May go by without a post!
May is your month, May is important.
Once a month is bad enough for the ol' blog - don't skip one!

I did this thing back in Feb. On the anniversary of Zahida's death. My favourite punctuation tattooed on my forearm ...

... for endings and beginnings, and the never-ending cycle of both, for things left unsaid ... for room to imagine ... to trail off and pick up another thread ... to pause and think ... to leave a space for someone else to occupy, or leave ... to assert yourself subtly ... or show doubt, vulnerability ... for life and whatever comes after ...

My 101 year old Granny slipped off in March.

In April we said goodbye to our beloved Khoki cat - our first baby, our friend for 19 years.

But still the sun rose every morning, some times more magnificently than others, and the world turned around the sun and, despite everything, it was my birthday.

And I decided that of all the lessons I'd like to impart on my daughters - this said in the knowledge that one never knows what will stick and what will not - I'd like one of them to be that you make your own fun, you have agency in your own happiness, and that birthdays deserve a party, no matter your age.

I spent my birthday surrounded by my bests. We hosted a lunch and that weekend, for the first time since mid March, I could walk. I could faff around the house making nice for my friends, I could prep a meal and lay a table, I could do a 'food board' ala Instagram, I could host and fetch another bottle of wine and more ice and a sharp knife and juice for a child ... I could WALK.

Even at the ripe old age of 4fuckin'4 my body can still heal. In the midst of my 40's I can do a highly responsible job for an international client and still know the value in taking a day off for illicit mid-week treats - this time an indulgent meal and a massage at the wondrous Babylonstoren ...

  

 

I am of that age where you realise it doesn't last forever. And as cliched as that sounds it's a real thing, and a natural thing. It's great that we live our 20's thinking it'll last forever, it's natural that we spend our 30's too busy to think of anything else much, and then the 40's come and with it comes loss, if you've been lucky enough to avoid it until then, and the reality of aging and the inkling that it will all end, it really will, and in that, the freedom to think 'fuck it, let's do it'.

I loved being young and feckless and living in the moment without even realising it. I love living in the moment and realising it, even more.
Best life, it's the only one worth living.

end-of-year staff party for 1(000)

This year I'm throwing a staff party. I've not had one before, being just little ol' me (and the dogs) in this cavernous office filled to the brim with utter crap.

I don't get invited to Husband's either anymore - since 'the recession' most corporate do's are sans partners.

But this year I decided I especially deserve one, and so I've planned (disclaimer: not 'planned' in the professional sense, just in the sense of bought a ticket - in JULY I might add!) a little soiree ... just me, and about 1000 other crazy cats seeking oblivion and a serious change of scenery ...

Pic from Vortex website - I'll have my own soon :-)

It's been some years since I've been to an outdoor party - probably about 15 truth be told - but I'm sure it's like riding a bike right? Right?

And these days darling, I'm all about the creature comforts. No slumming in a badly-erected 2-man tent in the full sun with nothing but (cheap) vodka and (stale) Niknaks to sustain me. This time I'm creating a boudoir (or should that be a boud-car?) in the back of our Jeep: a proper mattress, throw cushions, fairy lights, I'm still thinking frothy white bedding although I've been told that I'm mad.

Something like this ...

A fridge for fresh milk and salads and beer (I'd love to take wine but there's a no-glass policy and I have standards these days, standards).
A stack of books, mozzie repellent and a good night cream.
A comfy camping chair, a parasol perhaps. A week's supply of wet wipes ...

If I'm going to be the old lady of the party I'm going to reap the benefits of my experience and spending power by being the enviable old lady - the one who is having a blast, and then retiring to her boud-car for an ice cold drink, a fresh little snack and maybe a nap.

This is how I envisage it anyway ... we shall see ...

and what I've been doing with it ...

All this free time that is.

Yes, there's been lots of productive practical stuff, but there's been lots of indulgent fun stuff too.

I joined a gym (which falls into a category somewhere in between the two above), and I've actually been going!

I finished an embroidery project to gift to my SIL for her birthday.

For which I also made Nutella Cheesecake, among other things.

I lost an hour or two to Seinfeld clips on You Tube.

I may have lost a couple more watching endless movie trailers on the same channel.

I might even have watched a couple of episodes of Ray Donovan one morning while everyone else was at school/work. Although I'll never admit it.

I started some washi doodles on the large expanse of living room wall which we're kind of flummoxed as to what to do with. We can't hang anything framed there (damn lake is so reflective) we'll probably (hopefully) bash a large section out of it in the near future, I had a lovely piece of fabric up there which it turns out husband hated - so it's become my sketchpad, on which I will doodle in totally non-permanent and forgiving washi tape, because blank wall is just .. blank, right?

We sneaked in another long weekend away, the Cederberg this time, with my parents and assorted extended family.

And just this last week, I've been nursing this poor Tiger. Chicken pox yo.

Then this afternoon, the call. Dates are set, things are back on, and as of tomorrow I need to start easing back into things. Work things.

It's been a magnificent hiatus. I think I'll open a bottle of wine this evening and eek out the last few hours.

adrenalin junkies

Two blonde ladies in their 40's, sharing a pot of Earl Grey in a Durban beachfront hotel restaurant.

Adrenalin junkies.

It's not often that I meet other people in my profession. Why fraternise with the competition right? But as the woman opposite me talked about how stressed she was - scribbling furiously in her notebook - how difficult it was balancing all her clients, how when she finally closed her eyes at night she had lists swirling over the inside of her eyelids, I began to suspect I'd met a kindred spirit.

And when she looked up and I saw the sparkle in her eye, I knew it.

'But you love it right?' I said.
'Wouldn't do anything else in the world' she answered with a big grin.

Adrenalin junkies.

The common ground between us sprouted flowers as we spoke.
How many people tell us they'd never be able to do what we do. Clients who get concerned at how calm we are. How inside we're screaming. Wearing so many different hats you can put your neck out whipping them on and off. The terror of the error, the thrill of the win. Behind the scenes and in front of the client.

The inevitable crash. The juggle. The struggle. The love of the game.

We spent 20 minutes together and I felt more debriefed than I had in years. More energised too, inspired and affirmed.

.........

Yesterday a friend reminded me how a few short years ago I was still angst'ing about what I was going to be when I grew up, and meanwhile I was there already. Life is what happens while you're making plans or something like that.

..........

To be an adrenalin junkie I reckon you have to either be over-confident or totally reckless. Maybe the 40's are the perfect combination of both. It's certainly working for me.

january chill

The holidays are over, the girls are back at school - and for the first time ever at the same school! They just had 3 days last week, this one is 5 - 5 days of being woken much earlier than they're used to, of concentrating and socialising and managing the radical heat we're currently experiencing.
It's an adjustment for us all.

I started work on the 6th and our wonderful beloved Nonki (She's back! We're thrilled!) came in to look after them. I felt some parental guilt, and suggested some outings, some activities - some fun holiday excitement for the last week of their summer break.

But were they interested? Nope.

There were a couple of trips to my brother's pool, but other than that there were days, endless long summer days of pyjamas and pets and books and games and drawing and dragon cataloging and audio stories and forts and Lego and lawn tumbling and snack eating and just ... being.

Just, as this article which conveniently cropped up on Facebook at the same time said, '... learning to be whoever they are when no one is watching.'

Alone time, pottering away, whiling away hours in seemingly unproductive but totally absorbing pursuits - preferably in pyjamas - is how I relax, recharge and reset myself. The girls have the same inclination. I couldn't be happier.
And grateful that something which has sometimes made me feel like a bit of a lazy slob, is actually a sound parenting ideal. How easy was that one?!

easter past and present

I quite like Easter.

It's not as frantic as Christmas, but there's still a big focus on family, food and indulgence. What's not to love right?
You can't really go wrong with a 4 day weekend and a free pass to eat as much chocolate as you like.

I have very fond childhood memories of Easter. We didn't get a lot of sweet treats so a pile of chocolate was a big deal, and hunting for eggs in our big fynbos garden with lots of nooks and crannies was an adventure.
We often went away over Easter, or had friends from the city come to us, and I remember dying eggs with tea and drinking hot chocolate in rainy cabins in the woods.
One year we had pink and white cut-out cardboard bunny ears and paws from some far off exotic place (like London!) - in ye olde early 80's this kind of thing was not as commonly available as it is now.
I cringe to recall an Easter morning as I entered adolescence when, thinking I was being droll, I asked if 'anything exciting was going to happen or can I go and shave my legs?'. My mothers face was hurt and her voice sharp when she retorted that my (younger) brothers were going to hunt for Easter eggs but if I thought I was too old for such things I was free to do something else.
I felt awful, and obviously I was not too old for such things. I felt like an Easter ass.

It's also such a good break, after the madness of the first quarter, we're all in need of lazy days come April. And it's traditionally the weekend we get the first real winter rain. This year did not disappoint and Saturday dawned grey and chill.
There is still novelty in that.
Especially when it clears right up again and the weather returned with a beauty unsurpassed by any other time of year.

In April 2011 I wrote:

This time of year, my god it is sublime. It's ... subtle. Subtle in a way that February in Cape Town is utterly not. Clarity, cut, colour - it's like the seemingly endless days of late summer/autumn are each perfect diamonds, most definitely gems, each one handcrafted for perfection.

The temperature is perfect, subtle. The breezes are soothing, subtle. The light is clear and gentle, subtle.

It's marvelous.

 I could've written that about today.

Easter has not always been so idyllic. Most notably Easter 2010.

And I had fun recalling some failed Easter crafts from 2011, and the time Frieda made my heart explode with love, also 2011.

And of course how could we ever top the excitement last Easter brought?

That teeny-weeny little guy is now double the size of his older sister and a great big lovable stinky brute of a thing, adored by all.

This Easter weekend was low-key and lovely. Friday afternoon with friends, Saturday walks and movies and cuddles ...

Sunday chocolate and colouring and Peter and the Wolf on audio ...

... rounded off with a massively indulgent evening meal - roast lamb etc and a pudding so good (and so not present on the internet I discover while trying to find a link) that I'm going to have to make it again just to blog and photograph. As an act of public service you understand.
All four of us rolled away from the table and out the door, for a necessary wild and windy night walk, laughing together in the moonlight as we walked off our food babies and tumbled home to bed.

This morning we could barely contemplate anymore sweetness but we had a family get-together planned, and we'd promised to bring the cake, so we pulled ourselves together and just managed to produce one.

It was a happy weekend. Here's to Easter!

bitches without borders

A friend who lives abroad messaged me on Facebook this morning to share the link to a blog she'd discovered, a smug, twee, self-aggrandising blog of the kind we just LOVE to HATE.

Mean hey? Narrow-minded and callous and nasty of us wasn't it? Yeah.

What made it even more fun? The blog author works in my friend's building! Yup, it's internet GOLD: discovering the awful blog of an awful colleague. Doesn't get much better than that.

The blog wasn't as bad as this one, but pretty damn close. And we've spent the day in a fine old feast of reading and international bitchin' and googling and bitchin' some more.

My kids have eaten toast all day, I've got a backlog of emails I need to attend to and I just had to rewash a load of laundry because it's been sitting wet in the machine since this morning.

I imagine my friend has been similarly unproductive.

We've basically spent the day leaning over our cyber-picket fence having a good old bitch about the suspiciously-perfect-lady-down-the-street. I love the internet.

What was that about the season of goodwill? I'll get back into that tomorrow.

the daily commute

Frieda goes to school 6 suburbs over, right round the coast in a whole different climate zone. Not ideal, but it is a super little school (emphasis on little in a time when all our urban schools are getting bigger and bigger), and well, this is the drive ...

Whales, surfers, dolphins, weather, ships, boats, a working harbour, waterfalls, rock slides, tides and once, a submarine. It's a lucky kid who gets an education such as this to and from school.

And lucky parents who have to 'endure' such gloriousness twice a day.

(How lovely is that house? With its garage at the end of the road, a shady walk up to the door and the mountain in the backyard?)

There's another route down below, which winds along right at the coast, the sea on one side and rows of beautiful houses on the other. But that has been closed for 2 weeks for road repairs, making Boyes Drive the only (and very slow) option.
The advantage of all the traffic has been the chance to linger over the views, take note of the vegetation and mountain streams more closely, and sneak these camera phone pics.

I get as hassled and impatient with the school run as the next commuter-parent, but I never once do the drive without a deep appreciation for its beauty, and how lucky we are to be able to experience it.

50 things about right now

1. It's the winter school holidays.
2. 3 weeks with my babies, my home, my pets, my life. Delicious.

3. Little bits of work in the mornings, then kids, plans, outdoors, friends, food. Slow time.
4. We're reading The BFG.
5. I'm reading Jane Austen.
6. After too many Netflix cartoons I declared a week of pure David Attenborough. They're loving it.
7. I'm watching House of Cards in front of the heater every evening.
8. It's fucking cold.
9. Those microwaveable beanbag goodies are our life-savers.
10. The girls take them to bed, and I reheat them much later when I go to bed.
11. Moments like that I really win at parenting.
12. I wish I was collaging but it's too damn cold in my studio in the evenings.
13. North-facing. It's the only way to build a home.

no filter, no tidying - and no indication at all from this pic how cold it is outside

14. There's a mid-morning sunbeam on my bed that is the most enticing thing I've discovered of late.
15. However, awesome jeans are pretty enticing too ... I've recently discovered some.
16. I may need another pair.
17. I've done one small home improvement every day this holiday.

the girls room - spruced, sorted out and spotless. for now.

18. I'm exceedingly proud of this.

19. Things had really been allowed to slide around here ... 

20. One evening recently husband and I did seven small DIY jobs. Seven.

21. I'd post a pic of my linen cupboard but really, there are limits - even to arbness.

22. As much as I moan about winter, it is a wonderfully subtle season.

23. We really live in a most beautiful place.
24. An old friend, with whom I still connect on Facebook, is totally pro-Israel, posting nasty anti-Palestine stuff.
25. A rare moment when Facebook becomes regrettable, I'd rather not know that about him.
26. As I get older I respect death more. And feel the loss of life more keenly.
27. Being a parent contributes to that, but I think it's a more universal lesson for (just about) 40.
28. Our pup's getting older too.

29. And they're becoming better friends. Lego is still the chew-toy, but she hands him his ass on the lawn every afternoon, running him down 'til he knows who's boss.

30. We're enjoying watching their relationship develop, and his with each of us - there is an uncanny 'little brother' presence he's brought to our house. The errant youngest son we're all raising together.

31. Have I mentioned we're having a wonderful holiday?

32. We planned to try and see lots of friends we struggle to find time for during the crazy school weeks, and we have.

33. Lots of lovely mums and kids time: affirming, warm, supportive, fond afternoons with dear friends.

34. We've got this track on repeat. I think it's our holiday anthem!

35. A 10 foot trampoline has possibly become my best parenting buy EVER. They're on it for hours, and have learnt many lessons about sharing, negotiation, aerodynamics and acrobatics.

36. We're on the hunt for a new mattress. Most Boring Purchase Ever. But long overdue.

37. Apparently futon's went out in the '90's.

38. Hard-as-a-plank futon and all, we've been spending a lot of time in bed lately. Cats, books, bean bags, laptop, tea, bed. Winter has its perks.

39. Coca Cola Double Fudge Cake. Diabolical.

40. I'm working on my next collage pieces and thrumming with inspiration. Now to actually STICK SOMETHING.

41. I've found a Cape Town supplier for Mod Podge. No one but deprived locals will understand the significance of this.

42. Husband and I have discovered our musical tastes are growing apart. I'm okay with this. As long as I don't have to listen to any more Gogol Bordello.

43. Bleeding eardrums.

44. Have I mentioned it's beautiful here?

45.On Saturday I'm attending an all day Learn to Ride motorbiking course.

46. I have 6 months to get my licence before my Learner's expires and I'm determined to do it.

47. On Saturday night we've a raucous party planned.

48. It's very convenient when good friends with more energy for these things have birthdays in the same week as ones husband - we're getting good at piggy-back partying.

49. There's that cake. And the last immediate family birthday for the year. They do come thick and fast round here.

50. Life is good.

living the high life

It has to be said that spending 3 nights in a totally luxurious hotel last week did make running a conference that much easier ...

Having a quiet space to escape to for a short nap between the day and evening programmes, a big deep bath with lots of smellies on tap to unwind in at the end of the day, a Nespresso machine with endless pods, the vast and varied breakfast buffet ... not to mention having heating on 3 of the frostiest nights Cape Town has seen this winter ... no one believes me that it was really hard work too!

It was hard work, but affirming - I'm even better at this major logistical stuff than I used to be, it's great to function in an adult realm - although they can be as ridiculous as children really, and it feels so good to be supporting people doing good work.
This conference was for an international donor organisation, and to be told that they had a more successful and productive time for not having to worry about any of the logistics made me feel like I'd contributed in some small measure to the benefits all their grantees will feel on the ground.

It also made me feel conflicted about the amount spent on the conference though. I get that these people (most of whom traveled here on grueling schedules) needed to be comfortable and warm and well fed in order to make provisions to help those that most certainly aren't, but showee, this comfortable? This is not a new issue, we all know the stories about international funders driving lux cars etc etc ... and I won't criticise this particular organisation - not because they were employing me but because they really do amazing work around the world - but I still can't reconcile my head and my heart on this one.

I guess you can't always let the details get in the way of the bigger picture, and I certainly appreciated my own little taste of those luxurious details - I've been back 6 days but it still feels wrong to have to peel my own fruit ...

this may #2

Tomorrow I'm off on my now annual pilgrimage to Joburg. That great diverse urban behemoth to the north which lots of Capetonians like to feel superior to but I LOVE to visit.

Also home to my bestie and her adorable smalls whom I haven't seen since September and her equally adorable husband whom I haven't seen since last year.
And 5 cats.

All of whom together could not possibly produce as much poo as I've had to deal with this last week.
Hashtagpuppy.
Not poo I'm responsible for anyways.

Last May I couldn't wait to get there, to escape my life and my trying small girl and the mundane humdrum of too long spent full-time parenting and a persistent cough I'd had for weeks.
Like pioneers of old I was keen to 'take the prairie air' for my consumption.

This May I'm racing to hit deadlines before I leave and popping vitamins and writing up lists for my au pair and feeling a little guilty about the Out of Office message I'm leaving in cyberspace to no doubt disgruntle the hordes of delegates who enjoy 'reaching out' to me on a daily basis to find out what the weather will be doing in Cape Town in June, or whether the hotel we've booked has humidifiers in all the rooms.
Seriously, 1st world problems are a real thing ...

Last May the surprising find after my 4 days in Johannesburg was how much my big girl missed me. I'd thought it would be Stella but in fact Frieda did some real pining.
This May it looks like it'll be the same.
Turns out my eldest, my independent self-sufficient and sunny child, still misses her Mummy. Bless.

Yesterday afternoon at 4:30, with a scant half an hour work time left in the day, I came out of my office for some reason and ended up romping on the lawn with both kids until the sun went down.
The emails called, but my heart called louder.
'We haven't done this for ages Mum,' says Frieda. 'These days you're always working or cooking supper.'

They've seemingly adapted so smoothly to the new normal. Au pair 3 times a week, Granny once and the rare Friday afternoon with me. Weekends are full of family time, mornings and evenings and stolen moments throughout the day when possible.
But as adults we tally up the time spent in hours or days and think it looks sufficient, considering the circumstances. For the smalls, used to big blocks of daily dedicated Mum time, just a couple of days without that becomes an age.
This time of intense work has taught me much about the challenge of the working parent, and while I have, and am, enjoyed the professional affirmation immensely, I'm really grateful I'm still doing this freelance, and really, really looking forward to a time of unstructured US.
It'll come again very soon.

But for now I need to stretch those heartstrings just a little further. This trip to Joburg is work and play, so I appease myself with that, and know without a doubt that a whole weekend with Dad is actually just what they all need. Junk food and You Tube and puppy-romping and Daddy Gym.
They'll have a ball.

As will I! See you on the flipside.

an abominable procrastination cake

Remember back when Red Velvet Cake was a wild novelty? Something to fuss over and perfect. The first recipe I ever used required some fancy chem-class-type fizzing of baking soda and red food colouring at just the right moment to acquire the correct texture, never mind colour, for an authentic Red Velvet experience.

These days we have this...

An abomination right? An overly-sweet abomination at that. AND the rose petals are not included! Pah.

But ... I happened to have this in the cupboard, and some leftover butter-cream icing in the freezer ... and it was Nonki's 40th birthday ... and I just couldn't get in to working today.

Naturally I blame this.

I mean ... really how ridiculously cute?

So! I baked.

And surprised Nonki with it when she brought the girls home from swimming. We all had tea and cake and sent the rest home with her for her kids.

Yes, I employ someone to look after my children while I bake her cake. Today I may have been the world's best boss.

But I sure wasn't the world's best employee!

can't.stop.sticking.

This collage thing is addictive.

I started this piece in class last week, brought it home and on Saturday, in a few hours, ripped everything I'd done apart and started again. And practically finished it.

I'm sure - positive - that spending more time over it would have resulted in a better piece. The problem of how to blend the hill the Landy's driving over with the rest of the landscape for example, I'm sure a solution would have come to me had I stepped back for a bit and come to it with a fresh outlook. But I couldn't.
I had to carry on.

I'm quite pleased with my sky though. I loved using tissue paper for texture and fluffiness. I know the fall of the light in the whole piece doesn't always carry through - light and shadow are two elements I still find really intimidating.

I really enjoyed combining collage with montage too. It was fun finding textures and pictures to mix up in interesting ways.

I'm looking forward to getting a critical appraisal in class this week. And some ideas on how to meld it all together better.
This will be my last class for the month (boo hoo), but I hope to do more lessons this year, once the looming craziness abates.

You know that work I was moaning about? The hurry-up-and-wait contracts? They've both sprung to life, it's going to be one hell of a week!