list of 5: 5 things I'm really good at that no one will pay me for

1. Finding ridiculously small things in ludicrous places.
Two nights ago Husband, up a ladder, dropped a tiny screw into the rose bush. In the dark.
I found it within a minute.

2. Remembering the most inane detail about completely arbitrary and inconsequential crap.
A ridiculous example is buried deep in this post.
(Which, can I just say, I knew exactly where to find because I remembered  the year I originally posted it ... it's a gift right?)

3. Sticking my foot in my mouth.
Like this afternoon when I said (to a group of people I'd never met before) something about someone else I'd met clearly being a massive Christian and started loudly imitating an alarm siren going off (with hand gestures and everything), while the friend I was with used her baby as a shield to frantically gesture to me to SHUT UP THEY ARE ALL MASSIVE CHRISTIANS.
Ack.

4. Apparently, ruining people's fun.

As in, 'Get out of the ball pit NOW, we're going home.'
(Because Mummy just embarrassed herself socially.)

5. Taking dogs to the vet.
FIVE trips last month and tomorrow I take one back to get his stitches removed and the other to a canine orthopod to get checked out for possible leg surgery.

I'm sure this all adds up to a good resume for something right? Anyone?

lists of 5: 'cos no other number will do

My fancy Jo'burg manicure is starting to fade and chip, I could poetically say like my memories of the weekend but that wouldn't be true.
My memories are still clear and still fabulous.

My cat is asleep nestled into my neck like a newborn as I type this, making little huffs and snuffles as she cuddles in. Just like a baby.
My friend in Jo'burg will have a baby just like this (though hopefully less hairy) in a few short weeks and while I'm not envious in the slightest of the newborn part, I did get a taste again of that excitement of meeting someone new. Someone new but yet of you in the profoundest sense possible. There can't be anything else much in life which beats that.

My birthday cake is sinking slowly in the kitchen. It's one of a few birthday cakes I've planned actually, as I have more than one (though both little) celebratory events in the pipeline - both involving cake. I've been baking and prepping at a slow and steady pace all week and really enjoying it (I don't allow myself to bake often these days), but I do worry that instead of clever this will prove to have been not clever, and everything will be a little stale and naff.
The carrot cake will definitely, judging by it's current appearance, be a little sunken and naff. But I also trust, delicious.

My children are exposing me to people who are teaching me things about myself. Yes, my children are bringing people into my life. That alone is a strange thought. Stranger still is the notion that they are people through whom I'm being challenged. More on this soon I imagine.

My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard. No, not really. Not really at all, I just think that's such a weird and nonsensically fabulous line. Which I'd never otherwise have a chance to use!

lists of 5: 5 reasons I'm already feeling better.

- a big weep, a couple actually
- yoga this morning
- her 3 hour nap
- smoked salmon for dinner
and most preciously,
- so much warmth, love and support from friends far and near ... thank you.

These are the things which have me feeling better today.

5 things

marveling ~ in awe as our black cat inks so silently down the stairs, how does she do that?

smelling ~ (in my memory, my mind's nose?) over-ripe summer fruit as we whipped past the (empty) fruit stall on the motorbike just after dark yesterday

seeing ~ with love, how my man's brow has unfurrowed after two weeks of summer holidays

feeling ~  apprehensive about both girls starting new schools soon, yet knowing they handle these things so much better than I

hearing ~  their giggles as they get their bedtime story upstairs, the grebes still clucking on the lake, the rhythmic sloosh of a boat passing, the last few hours of this special holiday time ticking, very slowly, by.

here's me

It sucks great big hairy donkey nuts that I'm not posting here anymore. I need this space more than ever, and I keep telling myself I've not time to be here.

Truth is I don't have time to be anywhere right now so why discriminate?

I've learnt and re-learnt some truths about myself in the last couple of months.

1. I can't relax if there's nothing pending.
I had this problem when I was free-lancing, but it made more sense then. If I didn't have a job lined up I couldn't enjoy my down time for worrying about it. As soon as I got a booking, my down time disappeared and I beat myself up for not using it more wisely.

But I discovered during the weeks when our house was on show and closer to perfection than it (or any house in the future) will ever be again, that I couldn't relax.
There was no piles of clutter requiring my attention, no shit-hole of a study spewing chaos into my head-space, no DIY project half-done and nagging for attention. Nothing but clear, calm, immaculately styled (well, relatively) space and I hated it. It made me restless, and nervous, and weirdly ... unproductive.

Suffice to say since the day we sold the that picture changed, rapidly, and now in the midst of half-packed, half-sorted, half-assed houseness, I'm zinging with creativity.
And have no time to indulge it.

2. I suck at change.
Yeah, this one wasn't really a surprise either. You know those anxiety attacks I had before Frieda was born? Yup, I had a couple more of those.
And although I could draw up a pretty comprehensive list of where the anxiousness was coming from, truthfully there was only one source: shit was changing and I didn't like it.

While part of me is glad this whole house-selling/buying, transfer, packing, moving process is a process, I can't help but wonder if it all happened in a week whether it wouldn't be easier on the emotions.

3. Living in Obs makes me feel cool.
And moving to an area which has a reputation for being exclusive and wealthy makes me feel uncool.
At the beach the other day (where we did this which was totally cool), I was hesitant telling people where we were moving to - concerned that they'd assume we were ... what? Wealthy? Snobs?
Then all the way home I laughed at myself remembering the few times I'd felt embarrassed telling people we lived in Obs - concerned they'd assume we were ... what? Hippies?
For fucks sake Molly, grow a spine.

4. I'm a soppy, nostalgic hoarder.
Seriously, you should see some of the stuff I've kept for years and years. I've been dutifully opening sealed boxes and sorting through them to ensure nothing surplus moves with us, and I've had a couple of good laughs at myself and shed more than a few tears at the things I've found.
(And I'm wildly excited to re-read a vast number of favourite books I've unearthed. In fact, I've packed them all into the same box - it's to go straight into our new bedroom and onto my nightstand.)
(Because of course we'll be unpacked and settled in mere days and then I'll have nothing to do but read read read.)
(Sob.)

5. Packing appeals to my neglected spatial awareness skills.
Many different sized boxes, many many many many different sized things. Throw both at me and I'll astound you with my feats of spatial manipulation.
I always was very good at Tetris.

pillow talk

I spend so much time in bed these days, but so little of it sleeping.

Last night I kept Stella in bed with us after her first wake-up (on the dot 2 hours after she'd gone to sleep). I'm not a fan of co-sleeping with anyone other than a) my husband, b) my cat or c) a very small newborn (or d) George Clooney, but that goes without saying right?), but I thought it worth a shot to see whether she slept any better.
Exactly 1 hour and 55 minutes later she started twitch, rouse, stretch and ... mewl.
Sigh.

Also, dear insomnia. Please fuck off. What makes you think it's okay to haunt a woman driven nearly demented by lack of sleep as it is?
Thanks.

One night recently Husband came to bed after me. I didn't stir. But when I next woke with Stella I brushed his arm with mine as I got out of bed and my heart stopped. His arm under the warm duvet was ice cold. I nearly puked from fright.
Turns out just before bed he'd been out at the pool, wrestling with the filtration system, up to his shoulder in the icy water. He'd obviously fallen asleep minutes before I'd woken up and I was not, thank god, lying next to his handsome corpse.

The best thing about breast-feeding? The reading. As long as I'm able to hold it with one hand (Kingsolver's Lacuna is going to have to wait a while), I'm feedin' and readin', readin' and feedin'.

The song playing on continuous loop through my head in the mornings:
Tears for Fears - Mad World

And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had

You gotta wonder right?

And finally, a short list of Consumables Enabling me to Survive this Trying Time:
- white chocolate, especially if its got Smarties innit
- coke, or sadly Tab, as satisfying in its black fizziness but failing dismally in its distinct lack of sugar and caffeine
- coleslaw - maybe it's the crunch, maybe it's the mayo, but its working for me
- an effervescent energy booster at 3pm sharp - a minute later and we're all crying by 5
- water, water, water, water
Numbers 1, 2 and 5 often get consumed in bed. Coleslaw not so much and if I were able to be in bed at 3pm I wouldn't need the f*king energy booster would I?

Lordy I can't wait for the day I'll read this post and laugh.

three is ...

... the number of hours a week I've started doing some low-key work for a friend. Three hours in which I drive fast by myself in my car, listen to my iPod, wear dangly earrings, earn some pocket money and am Not A Mum.

... the number of mornings a week which Frieda spends at pre-school. Three mornings a week in which I only parent one child, don't have to answer incessant questions, can eat chocolate without having to share.

... the number of weeks Frieda's school will be closed for the holidays. Three weeks of parenting two children, answering incessant questions, eating illicit chocolate in the loo.

... the number of months we've had our Stella. Three months of baby delight.

... how old Frieda will be in a week's time. My baby will be three. And three is light years away from two.

she ...

... loves the ginger kitty to the extent where I worry for its life. She tracks Fritta down (yes, yes, our cat and our child have very similar names, please believe me when I say we didn’t realise this at all until a friend’s then 4 year old pointed it out to us – doh!), takes her into her pup tent (pitched in the lounge), zips it up and spends ages in there – all quiet except for the hum of contented purring and the occasional rustle. On Thursday however, more than halfway to my Mum’s house, I thought to ask her if she’d let Fritta out of the tent before we left. ‘No Mum’ she answered happily, ‘she wants to stay in there’. 4 hours later when we got home Fritta told us a distinctly different story.

... likes to have cornflakes and ‘bopye’ for breakfast. The cornflakes come from a box, the bopye must be tracked down and caught, wrestled into the bowl, covered in cornflakes and then have its wings wet with milk - this prevents it from escaping. Thereafter the cereal is eaten with relish. This is all her invention.

... will occasionally end up in our bed with us. When I try to roll over to sleep with my back to her (mainly in an attempt to protect all squishy bits from her inevitable flailing limbs) she asks me not to, whispering in the dark that she wants to ‘see my pretty face’. A master of manipulation. It works.

... told me, the other morning when I was giving husband a hard time about something, not to ‘talk all wobbly to my Dad’. This was accompanied by a little shake of her hips which I can only think was an imitation of my body language.

... when asked by a visitor what her baby doll’s name was, answered in all seriousness ‘Zeberebareba’, and so it has remained. Zeberebareba the doll is now part of the family and must be referred to as such. Just to be clear, this from a child who speaks as clear as a bell, Zeberebareba is no baby talk gibberish, it is the name she has chosen for her baby.

... makes us laugh and laugh and laugh.

there's a first time for everything*

(*like my first post for December ... )

But no, this is about Frieda's firsts - there's been enough of them recently to warrant mention.

1. her first somersault - executed with masterful control and no risk of neck breakage.

2. her first advent calendar (not, despite best intentions, made by me, but sent from England, arriving in a big envelope addressed to Miss Frieda - far more exotic and exciting I think) - now every morning we open just one 'Christmas window', again displaying masterful (self) control.

3. her first library card - a momentous event in anybody's life, and one of those experiences which makes me love being a parent - introducing my kiddie to something which has given me such love and joy, and proudly watching her already ferocious appetite for books.

4. her first monster milkshake from Royale in Long Street. It was Milo & Banana and it was so large she had to stand on her chair to drink it from a straw.

5. her first day at school. Well, not really, but we went to a parent/teacher meeting at the little school she'll be starting at next year, to meet her teacher and some of the other kids who'll be in her class. She loved it.

All major milestones, all proud parenting moments, all tugs on my heart as she grows up.

food for thought

The builder told me today that they'd be done with all the inside work by the end of the week, that he'd like to see us 'move back in on the weekend'.
Me, I'll believe it when I see it.

It's not so impossible. The floor tiles are laid, the windows and doors replaced, plastering done, 1st layer of paint down, lights are in, cornices are up. But the kitchen sink's not in, none of the bathroom sanitaryware is installed, the kitchen counter top is still in production. So I'll reserve judgement and wait and see.

But truth be told, all I really want back is full use of my cooker. All I want to do is cook and bake and mix and play and then, have the dishwasher installed to take care of all the necessary afterwards.
It's gotten to the stage where I'm lying awake at night planning menus, creating dossiers of the first things I'll cook, I'm dreaming up dinner parties and braai's and brunches and (am I completely fokken crazy), excited about inviting Husband's family over for a big Christmas meal.

And so while the point of this post is actually just to rack one last one up for November, hereby bringing the total up to a totally un-awesome 10 (I'm so slack), here's a list of the first few things I intend to cook as soon as I can.

1. Lazy Chilies Rellenos ~ jalapenos, eggs, cheese, tortilla. Who could ask for anything more?
2. A batch of Nigella's Apple & Cranberry chutney. To have with cold gammon at Christmas. Droolishes.
3. Tres Leches Cake. I have to say I'm well over a newbie-blogger crush on the Pioneer Woman (in fact I'm pretty sure she doesn't actually exist but is a creation of Harpo Studios), and I stopped reading her ages ago, but I can't resist visiting Pioneer Woman Cooks every now and then. This cake is one of the reasons why.
4. Mince Pie Pinwheels. A possible replacement for my normal Christmas mince pies. Naturally I'll have to do a batch now to test ...
5. A good ole roast chicken with all the trimmings. Especially roast potatoes. And 3 veg. And a big ass chicken. You can hear the longing in my voice hey?

Husband also has a list, his goes something like this:
1. Curry
2. Curry
3. Huevos Rancheros
4. Curry
5. Curry

Oh my god I can't wait.

list of 5: 5 things inspiring me

People, most of whom have happened to be women recently but I'm sure this is incidental, who know their shit.
From buying a toilet to downlighters to splashback tiles, I keep finding myself wildly impressed by the technical know-how and expert opinions of sales people all over the city. This is all the more inspiring for the generally crap levels of service we've come to expect here.

*

My 90 yr old grandfather who surprised as all by arriving at his birthday lunch on the weekend dressed in a traditional Red Indian Native American costume, dancing into the room to the beat of a drum.
Beloved father of 4, grandfather of 12, great-grandfather of 9 (with no.10 on the way), we were all once again awe-struck by his vitality.
During the speeches his children honoured him by saying he was the most unflaggingly positive person they'd ever known (could you ask to have anything better said about you?) and that throughout their lives they'd been able to go to him with any problem or concern, and while he may not always have been able to provide a solution, they'd always walked away feeling better. I cannot think of a higher accolade for a parent. (Incidently, my grandfather served in North Africa during the war, an experience he never talks about but is generally accepted to be the reason for the little bit of sadness which lurks in his eyes, and he would totally agree with Mr London Street on this.)

*

Another great irreverent and gentle parent, Jim from Sweet Juniper, with this post. He manages to just get it right every time.

*

Cupcakes! As always. It's quite weird 'cos I don't really love eating cupcakes, it's the making of them I'm starting to suspect I'm developing an addiction to ...

When we were packing up the kitchen Husband kept going on and on about 'exactly how many cupcake baking tins does a girl really need?' as he unearthed more and more from the bowels of the baking cupboard. Answer: lots. Can't wait to get the use of my oven back for a celebratory batch.

 

*

Frieda's unerring ability to answer 'NO' to any question or request posed to her. Any question. Including: 'Would you like some ice cream?', although admittedly that answer is 'NOyes' like it's one word.

Okay, I exaggerate, this negative trait is not inspiring me as such (most of the time it's annoying the fuck out of me), but I have to have some admiration for a stage in life in which you have no concern about pleasing others, don't give a hoot about social niceties or the 'right thing to do'. Every question, request, demand, inconvenience thrown at you gets immediately deflected with a firm 'NO'.

I plan to revert to this the day I turn 75.

5 (random) favourite things meme

Get this: I made up a meme. Yup, all on my lonesome. Why shouldn't I, I thought? Who are these 'gods of memes' who circulate them around the blogosphere? Why shouldn't a mere mortal such as myself start my own one? Ha!

So here it is. Long may it travel.

I've always had the problem of not being able to pick a favourite. I don't have one favourite movie or one favourite book, or one favourite food. Life's just a bit more complex than that for me. I'm 75% Gemini  - go figure.
So the idea here is that you list 5 items in each category, a favourite 5 - but not necessarily in order of favouriteness - to show the diversity/similarity/hilarity/polarity/ or extreme same-ness of your personal likes.

And then tag 5 peeps to do the same. And feel free to add or subtract categories as you like.
Down with meme imperialism!

Herewith the first 5 (Random) Favourite Things Meme:

5 Favourite Songs:
1. Hey Jude - The Beatles
2. We Are Going - Burning Spear
3. Feel Good - Gorillaz
4. Hasta Siempre Comandante Che Gueva - Buena Vista Social Club
5. Gold Digger - Kanye West

5 Favourite Films:
1. Love Actually
2. Room With a View
3. Toy Story
4. Lost in Translation
5. Out of Africa

5 Favourite Books:
1. The Time Traveller's Wife - Audrey Niffenigger
2. Saturday - Ian McEwan
3. On the Shores of Silver Lake - Laura Ingalls Wilder
4. Love in the Time of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
5. Where the Wild Things Are - Maurice Sendak

5 Favourite Crushes:
1. George Clooney
2. Buzz Lightyear
3. Snoop Dogg (saw him in concert, was as surprised as anyone by his total shag-worthiness - who knew?!)
4. Cate Blanchett
5. Benecio del Toro

5 Favourite (Random) Things:
1. Sneakers
2. Post-Its
3. Fridays
4. Curry
5. Giggling

So without further ado, I hereby tag 5 random favourite bloggers:
Extranjera - What Will I Ever Do With My Life?
and just to see if their answers are different ...
Vancouver's Enviro Girl - The (mis)Adventures of Veg
Seaside Girl - Seaside Stories
Spudballoo - Chez Spud
and Superfi 

lists of 5: 5 signs that it is, undoubtably, winter.

1. I have nothing to wear. No. Thing.

2. The cats have doubled in size and the Ginger, who usually sleeps in really obscure places, has moved to her winter abode - our bed. (The Black is a stoically perennial resident.)

3. Everytime I leave the house I see any number of fender-benders. How quickly morons people forget how to drive on wet roads...

4. Our lemon tree is about 30 seconds away from busting out in fruit and showering us and the neighbours with lemons faster than any of us could possibly use them. Their big yellow globes are particularly fetching against a brooding stormy sky however.

5. Underfloor Heating has just moved up my Must Have list. A couple of months ago it was item about 435, it currently occupies slot no. 2, after New Winter Wardrobe.

the other one about camping

The thing about camping is ... you never know what you're going to get.

A good camp is a thing of wondrous beauty and infinite soul-delight. A bad camp is, well, pretty shitty.

This was a bad camp. And extremely shitty.

Herewith a seasoned camper's guide to seasonal camping:

1. Rule 1: Be Game.

Big storms predicted? Bah. Potential very cold conditions? Bah. Arriving after dark and setting up camp with a small child? Whatever.

What's the thing about camping? Yup, you never know what you're going to get. But if you don't leave the house, you'll never find out.

Turns out - in this case - that what we got was a dark dank field, miles from anywhere, with no proper signage, no hot water (which we were promised), no running water (except from the sky - in buckets), and a veritable CARPET of cow shit. Which the puppy thought was delicious.

The next morning. Still raining. We'd picked up a lot of poo. 

Made me view those brownies a little askance. But only for a minute.

2. Rule 2: Be Prepared.

And if not, be innovative.

Such as, when feeding your small child a picnic supper on the front seat of the Jeep in the dark and pissing rain, and on discovering that you have no spoon and that to get one would involve getting wet and covered in cow shit and maybe the dissolution of your marriage, make a plan by locating said child's toy box in the back of said Jeep and feeding her yoghurt off a small plastic spade. 

3. Rule 3: Stay Upbeat.

I mean, it's not like you're going to turn around and drive home right? Not after packing all afternoon and driving for hours and getting all excited and finding someone to feed the cats. And bah-humbugging in the face of everyone's dire predictions that you'd be rained out ... cough ...

Nah, you push through the rough patch and the next thing you know the tent is pitched, the child is peacefully asleep, it's stopped raining, someone's gotten a bonfire going and you're holding a glass of wine. And right then you're really happy to be there.

Of course the puppy's still eating cow shit but hey ...

4. Rule 4: See the Beauty.

Protea Aurea - isn't she utterly beautiful?

'Cos regardless of what kind of camping experience you're having, you're outdoors see, and ergo there'll always be something beautiful. 

5. Rule 5: Know when to Quit.

And pack up the kid, the dog, the wet and shit-bespattered tent, and make haste to a friend's beach-house for the rest of of the weekend.

easter enthusings

I had fondly imagined that with Husband away I would spend lots of time blogging all the bloggy posts which've been running around inside my head for some time now. Turns out that flying solo with a toddler and a puppy is far more time-consuming than duel parenting - duh - and so I've 5 incomplete drafts, each started in a moment and a thought process which I've not been able to pick up again once the moment passed. I still like to believe I'll get back to them but in the meantime, a little lazy, a little slurry, a little chocolate-ified after a raucous family dinner, all I can manage is a list (another list) of all the things I'm deeply grateful for on this different, but lovely, Easter weekend.

1. my family (again!) ~ that I have mine so close. That Frieda is growing up knowing them all and securely encircled in the love and devotion of grandparents (and a great-grandparent!), uncles, aunts and wonderful friends (which I count as family).

2. my home ~ that I feel warm and safe here, even when flying solo. That although it's not the Ultimate Family Home I dream of, it's large and spacious and interesting and most importantly, ours.

3. my home town ~ that I can walk on a wide open beach with my child and my dog and my parents and laugh and run and see a Cape Fur Seal up close and taste sea salt in my hair in the bath hours later.

4. my girlie ~ that I can lick peanut butter off her fingers and dance wildly with her to the Basement Jaxx and cradle her in my arms as she drifts off to sleep murmuring '(a)mazing', her new favourite word.

5. myself ~ that I'm comfortable in my own skin and can drink a few too many glasses of wine on my own and sneak an illicit ciggie and eat a couple of Frieda's Easter eggs (she's too young for all that chocolate ok) and lovingly fondle my new Skermunkil necklace (a little pressie to myself ...)

and bonus point, and dare I say my favourite:

6. my husband ~ who's been off having a crazy adventure and will be home to tell us all about it by this time tomorrow. As much as I've missed him I'm so glad he's had this time out by himself, and I can't wait to see the expression in his (no doubt) tired eyes tomorrow.

This feels like a list I keep replicating, but it's also a litany of gratitude I can't help but express over and over. I am, as we say in Cape Town, truly kak lucky! 

lists of 5: 5 things to get 2009 back on track

Gawd, SO Cape Town... I resolved last Thursday to make this list. I gave myself grace until the new week to start it. Now it's Tuesday...

But, in my defence, I think I lost momentum for it as the items on this particular agenda started resolving and revealing themselves before the list was even written down. Thereby proving that the power of listing lies not with the list, so much as the making of the list - mentally or physically.

It's deep no? 

So here goes:

1. Find a job. ✓(Ok so it's just for March for now, but I have faith more will come of it...)

2. Sort out my studio! Half a ✓(can you guess what fancy new HTML code I learnt recently?) 

3. Up my game. Fitness wise that is. I'm working on it...

4. Focus on quality, not quantity, for my time with Frieda. See yesterday's post...

5. Focus on quantity, not necessarily quality, for my time with husband. We need to just hang out more. I.e. lie on the couch and watch trashy DVD's. Duly scheduled for the weekend.

I already feel so much more relaxed and happy, and the not so astounding truth of the matter is ... because I have work lined up. For all my breezy 'career is just not that important to me' statements, I'm aching to get Stuck Into Something. And next week, I will. Yay!!

lists of 5: 5 thoughts for twenty-oh-nine

Just to be clear, these are absolutely, most definitely and certainly not resolutions. I am by no means beholden, possibly not ever and probably extremely unlikely to fulfill or complete them all. I will in no way be held accountable, answerable or even enter into conversation about my completion or non-completion of any of the below listed items.

I will, however, pledge to revisit this list in 1 year's time - just for laughs.

So here, in no particular order, is a list of things I'd like to think about, or be conscious of, in 2009.

1. My health. (see why these most definitely aren't resolutions? If they were this one would be doomed to failure.)

I had a profoundly happy moment last week when I received a mail to say my beloved Yogafit classes are starting up again this week! I was a lean, mean yoga machine before I got pregnant and I'm determined to regain at least a little of that svelte-ness.

2. My creativity. 2009 will (hopefully) be the Year of Craft. I've been gathering inspiration from all the wonderful crafty blogs I've been lurking on this last year and the time has come to channel all that into producing more handmade stuff myself. I'm very inspired by this, but ja, don't know if I'll even aim for 100!

3. Invest more in old friends. One of the benefits of spending more or less your whole life in one place is the large variety of friends you make, and generally keep, over the years. Husband and I, in the light of the loss of an old friend through circumstance, have been talking about how many wonderful old friends we have close by, and how we'd like to invest more time and effort in strengthening those bonds this year.

4. Getting my head and body ready for another baby. Gasp, I can't believe I'm actually committing these words to er... blog. I'm still wildly oscillating between 'no, no, no, jesus fuck am I mad to even be contemplating this again' and 'hey wow, I wonder what other fascinating little being there is out there, just waiting to be a part of our family'. On the one hand we're determined Frieda should have a sibling, on the other I get virtually paralysed at the thought of having TWO offspring - just the logistics alone are exhausting to think about. So ja, this is a long-term project...

5. Working! I'm SO looking forward to getting manically busy on this next job, so ready to taste the thrill of occupational achievement (is that a phrase? It sounds kinda cool so it should be). Besides, I need to earn some real money to pay for this , the full monty 5 plate gas/electric stove purchased by us yesterday. So excited. And now off to rip out some cupboards in our kitchen to make space for it!

misc musings part 2: the afternoon edition

It's really just been one of those days, incredibly busy and incredibly lethargic all rolled up into one bundle of arbness. Sounds like a fairly typical CT summer day actually....

I had a marvellous 20 min in the pool - why didn't I think of that earlier? The very best thing about our pool? It's completely private so no swimsuit required. I don't actually even own a decent swimsuit at the mo, simply don't need one.

So although one can hear the neighbour sneeze just over the wall (those eviscerating sounding sneezes) and the mumbling of builders not too far away, one can splash around butt-naked to one's heart content. Lovely.

We didn't make it to Scrapbooker's Wet Dream or whatever the place is called, but opted instead for a car wash, a meltdown in the stationers 'cos someone's mean and nasty Mummy wouldn't let them unpack all the brightly coloured lunch-boxes on display, and 45 minutes - yes, 45 - in the Post Office to get a second lot of packages off before 4pm.

I think I mentioned I'm helping a friend out with her online business while she's gadding about in foreign climes? It's strictly a business arrangement, us being international business ladies and all, but it also feels a bit like baby-sitting one's best friend's baby and therefore I nurture it. South Africans are rapidly catching onto shopping online, but there are still many people who don't have internet at home (I mean,wtf? What do they do with their evenings? No one actually watches our shit TV do they? And surely they're not actually talking to their spouses right? Nah?), and it seems that bunch have all been very busy this week burning up their company's bandwidths before going on summer vac.

So ja, 45 minutes in the Post Office. For the second time today. This time + toddler....

5 things Frieda did in the Post Office:

1. Popped bubble wrap and toddled up and down the queue of 20+ hot, irate PO clients making everyone pop one bubble (only ONE mind you - she was very clear on the rules).

2. Ate salami and then dropped some on the floor and after her mother revealed the presence of a dustbin to throw dropped piece away (stupid! stupid! stupid!), tried to throw away contents of mother's handbag one by one.

3. Smooched a wooden peg doll and tried to rally those nearest to us in the queue to do the same.

4. Got hold of mother's wallet and wanted to give all her money to the nice lady in front of us who was the only one who had indeed smooched salami besmeared peg doll (fair enough I say - if I wasn't so broke...)

5. Waited 'til I finally got to the counter and then spent the whole transaction trying to grab my pen while the rest of the queue huffed and sighed behind us. 

All in, she was an angel! Seriously, 45 minutes in the Post Office in 30 degree heat? We could've done way worse...

lists of 5: 5 thank you's

I must confess to being jealous at the amount of food being consumed in the northern hemisphere today, even more so when I read posts like this, but I'm also quite pleased that we don't have another Big Eat so close to Christmas, or another Big Plan or Big Cook, let alone another Big Family Get Together with all the associated potential for Big Politics.

My family is pretty good about skipping the politics, but I can't say the same for the husband's.... less than a month to go before Christmas and it seems that once again his siblings are refusing to engage with the concept, or each other. Anyway, the main thing about family politics is that they are b-o-r-i-n-g so I'm veering off that and on to this:

Although we may not celebrate Thanksgiving, I still think it's a good time to give thanks, and here's my list:

1. That summer is here!

And I'm grateful to live in a city in which we've been able to wet our toes in the waters off 3 different beaches in the last week (yesterday we visited the 3rd, mainly in the hopes of seeing the beached whale which was making such a fuss, uh... splash (sorry, couldn't resist it), but alas the whale had already been removed via flatbed truck for forensic analysis. My parents had spotted it on their dawn beach walk, thereby proving that the early bird whiffs the rotting whale and all that...)

2. That I live in the same city as my closest family.

Which means my daughter is growing up surrounded by grandparents, uncles and aunts. I see how she flourishes from their love and attention, and for that I am truly grateful.

3. For dinner out last night with good friends, no kids and, even more noteworthy and special for it's rarity, no excessive talking about kids!

4. For the guardian angels which seem to be watching over the 2 little premmie babies in our circle of friends. That they both seem to be doing well, and that their poor parents are handling the strain with good humour and positivity.

5. For laughter. Whether it's incited by cutting wit, blatant crudeness, the shortcomings of others, the idiocy of ourselves, the antics of our toddler, the expressions of our cats, the banality of world politics, a turn of phrase, a turn of a page, a misunderstanding, a misdirection or just because life is good, I'm deeply grateful for laughter - it is indeed the fuel of life.

lists of 5: 5 things I saw on our beach walk today

I still feel like crap. The snot has disappeared but only to be replaced by body-ache, lack of energy, lack of willpower, lack of sense of humour.

Frieda's snot is still flowing freely, and I kinda envy her 'cos despite that, she's in fine fettle, full of energy, full of willpower and by 11am today full of cabin fever. So I sucked it up, as us mothers are wont to do, and we took her for a run on the beach.

And I'm so glad we did.

And so pissed off I left my camera behind.

On our walk on the beach today (different beach to Friday's excursion - yes, 2 beaches in 3 days), I saw:

1. A man tripping. On acid. When's the last time I saw that? Walking in circles, mesmerised and kinda terrified of the tiny lapping waves at his feet. Lots of giggling. And can I just say that I live in Obs, I know a crazy person when I see one, this guy wasn't crazy, he was just having a most awesomely whack mindfuck of a time, and loving it.

2. Two carthorses being taken for a swim. Their owners jogged on down to the beachfront with their scrap-metal collecting traps, unshackled their horses and rode them into the lagoon. Frieda was in ecstasies of delight.

3. A woman filming a child doing weird things. Proper filming, with a proper camera on a tripod and alles, but just the two of them, her giving him odd direction to scream, and run towards the camera and wring his hands. Wtf?

4. At least 6 or 7 massive tankers at anchor in Table Bay. Made me wonder if they knew something we don't, usually when this happens they're coming in to ride out a big storm in the shelter of the bay... maybe I should check the long range forecast?

5. Lots and lots and lots of plastic bottle-tops. You know how one usually collects shells on a beach? Well I came home with a bag of bottle-tops, for those bottle-top strings I keep threatening to make. And it was almost as exciting as shells, finding different colours and sizes. The currents which wash onto this beach come straight in from the shipping routes so there's lots of flotsam & jetsam. Litter is never a good thing, but this time I was kind of pleased for it...

Please internet, let me feel better tomorrow. Ag please man.