toy run sunday

straddle - our very lovely bike

charity - the 26th annual toy run where bikers from all over Cape Town ride for charity & to donate truckloads of toys to under-privileged kids for Christmas

grandparents rock - 'cos they spent the day with kiddie so we could ride

brrrrrrr hat - what kiddie calls our helmets, the brrrrrr is an engine noise

cardies

Big fun planned for tomorrow, can't wait...

Clue words: straddle, charity, grandparents rock, brrrrrrr hat. 

Just had some fun making this card for one set of the new parents. I've a similar one in production for the other set and must get both into the post on Monday morning. Next week there's some craziness a'coming and I think things will be hectic for a while. Yay!

I just love these origami shirts so much!

'tis the season to be thrifty

Husband resigned yesterday.

With only 26 shopping days to go 'til Christmas. 

Oh and that small thing called Global Economic Recession.

Oh and, the toddler. And, the home loan. And, the contract which hasn't yet started.

So last night we did what any responsible adults would do, and finished off a very good bottle of wine, too many shots of a very good whiskey, and an extremely delicious cigar to celebrate, all the while planning our Thrifty Christmas and while we're on the topic, our potentially Very Thrifty Few Months to come. And laughed long and loud about being masters of our own destiny.

And the best thing of all is that this morning, despite two very good hangovers, we still feel upbeat and energised, united in a common purpose and excited about this next stage.

Basically it all happened fairly fast, but was not completely unpredicted. Husband and partners have recently started their own company, but were contracted to Another Business Who Shall Not be Named (or ABWSNBN) in their personal capacities to cover their salaries while growing the start-up. ABWSNBN have increasingly been acting like shits and finally really put their foot in it by trying to sell husband to a bigger conglomerate with no consultation, fore-warning or even courtesy in-house memo. Husband ain't having none of it.

Not being a hasty man however, there are many exciting prospects in the pipeline and a number of options available. His company is growing well and we're hoping soon it'll be able to support him outright, and in the meantime we'll be thrifty, and mindful, and cool-headed.

And, most importantly, Masters of Our Own Destiny! Mmmm wha ha ha ha ha (evil laugh with gleeful hand-rubbing)....

And I'll go take another Panado with a big glass of water.... groan...

baby gro for big girls

I've always been jealous of baby gro's. Finally, I think I may have found the answer...

http://www.femkeagema.nl/

Must have for next winter...

Hmmm, maybe it's just the girl's ass I'm envying...

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.

to do list #1

You know how the more you do, the more you can do? Or, the more you have to do, the more you find to do? 

The Job hasn't started yet, but as I've gotten busier on the two small jobs I'm doing helping friends out, the momentum is growing and so is my To Do List...

I typed out this list last night, but didn't get to posting it, and then today had one of those monumentally productive days of which I'm so proud that I'm not going to delete the items which no longer apply, but tick them off to make me feel even more smug.

1. print business cards

2. scan The Contract, sign and return.

3. while I've got the scanner out, finish scans for my online portfolio and,

4. scan some old photos for future posts

5. book voice test for early Dec when I have some $

6. get tyre repaired

7. send Xmas present off to frozen North

8. plan & design Xmas crackers and gather materials

9. make Xmas crackers

10. plan & design Xmas stocking for Frieda and gather materials

11. make Xmas stocking

12. give self French pedicure

13. make b'day card for Z

14. work on online portfolio design

15. baby shower gifts x 2 and make cards

16. xmas presents....

All this plus some work on both jobs, tea with a friend and a lovely home-cooked supper. Wonder Woman? No, just me feeling back on form. Yay!

lucky #13

You know you're of a certain age, or in a certain stage, when the population explosion becomes all too real and you feel as if there are babies popping up (out?) all around you.

The 13th baby of 2008 was born this morning, the 13th that we know of personally that is. Cyberly (a new word? Collins? Oxford? Anyone?) I also know of this one, this one and this one in the last month or so, but I'm not counting those as personal friends, although I sure know a lot about them!

But number 13 has a special story. And remember this guy, born about 10 days ago, 11 weeks prem? This story relates to him too. 

Once upon a time, not very long ago, there were 2 good friends. They were both keen to breed, both had histories of conception-related problems, but each had faith in her own way that they would become the mothers they'd always hoped to be.

Time ticked on and neither fell pregnant, but both remained optimistic and calm, staunchly believing their time would come.

And so it came to pass that these 2 friends discovered within 24 hours of each other that they were both pregnant, and both due in the same week in early 2009. Much rejoicing and celebrating ensued, and this continued when a few months later they discovered they were both expecting boys!

(I think you can tell where this is headed....)

10 days ago one of the friends had her boy prematurely, and then this morning, just to make sure these two stories continued in parallel, the other friend had hers. 30 weeks, 1.3 kg.

All mums & babies are doing really well, and the rest of us are all feeling a little weirded out....

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.

cape town, you unpredictable beauty

You know you're living in Cape Town when....

You decide half-way through another very hot day that snot be damned, you're taking the family to the beach for a picnic supper to herald in the summer....

By late afternoon there's a stiff wind blowing but you know, from experience, that the other side of the mountain will be hot and still, so you pack a picnic and get going...

45 minutes of stifling hot and sweaty traffic later (and yes, it's only 15h30 but this is Cape Town remember, on a Friday so everyone's leaving work...), you finally arrive, and get parking, at the beach!

Only to discover... it's totally overcast, cloudy, grey with a fresh and chilly breeze a'blowing...


But hell, you've gone to so much effort that you decide to stay to take the baby for a quick run.

And then.... the sun starts to chase those blues away, and slowly the mountain comes back into focus and all the hairs on your arms stand up as the late afternoon rays peek through the clouds...


And soon it's like the winter never was...


And your heart exults at the thought of the summer beach fun times ahead...


Cape Town you beauty!

room with a view

Aside: it must be one of my favourite movies.... Helena Bonham-Carter was such a fresh-faced English rose, one of Maggie Smith's best roles ever (and that's saying something because she's wonderful in so much), and the source of some fantastic lines, many of which are still quoted in our family.

But I digress....

Our latest DIY project is to build a window seat in the gorgeous bay window in our bedroom. We have such a lovely mountain view from there and it's the room which gets the best afternoon sun. A comfy window seat would be just the thing.
I've been doing some WBR (web based research) to try and find some inspiring ideas, hoping to find an assortment of gorgeous and clever designs to work from and you know, so far I've found.... NOTHING. Seriously, not even one lovely idea. It's all chintz and heavy drapes and net curtains (shudder of revulsion) and twee cabinets and over-stuffed floral phooeyness or hard cold minimalism (and not in a nice clean Scandinavian way, in a boring unimaginative student broke kind of way). Flickr has failed me, Apartment Therapy has failed me, I'm on page 4 of Google search and I'm still uninspired.
(And working on the theory that past page 5 on Google is total dead space, I'm not very hopeful.)

But what Apartment Therapy did give me, and I think I'm cursing it as a result, was this look inside my all-time favourite Haldane Martin's lovely home. God this man's furniture is too beautiful, that Riempie Couch would look perfect in my bay window : (

But those ostrich feather chandeliers make me wanna sneeze and I don't need anymore encouragement in that department right now.

Ai-chooo!

s'not funny

36 degrees.
Throbbing head cold (mine).
Child pouring snot which in colour, texture and elasticity reminds me of those gimmick gel hands you can buy which you throw against a surface 'til the hand sticks and then streeeeeeeetch the arm out to impossible lengths.
Did I mention 36 degrees Celsius?
Sparkly blue pool taunts us through the window.
But it was bad parenting which got us into this mess (yes, I performed the cardinal sin of Allowing my Child to play with a Snotty Child so that I could Lie Around and Drink Tea with Mother of this Snotty Child) and I'm not going to add Allowing my Snotty Child to Swim to my list of misdemeanours.

So instead we took our throbbing snot heads off to ramble around the local Design School's (air-conditioned) end of year exhibition. The Jewellery section was closed which was the main reason I went, but we saw some other fun, and strange, things.

Hanging paper-mache hat with a cityscape and an AK-47 on the brim anyone?

Nice branding for a fabric range...

Gorgeous paper cut-outs...

Converse inspired hair-dryer - love it!

And my favourite, very cool table lamp.

(tap not included, just an odd choice of display area)

And in other news, this evening I finally watched Little Miss Sunshine. Am I the only person on the planet to get round to it now? And why exactly did it take me this long? What a gorgeous little film to wrap my weary snot-filled brain around, off to bed to do just that.

club duvet

Pre baby, this was a place I used to spend sooooo much time. I was one of it's most loyal patrons, easily spending 4 or 5 evenings a week there, often even weekday evenings until late. I was wild I tell you.
I had whole outfits bought and put together specifically for this illustrious venue, I'd often spend hours getting ready to go there, taking long luxurious baths, creaming and buffing and primping and preening, no effort was too much to look and feel my very best.

Ok, ok, I'm talking about my bed. Sigh. Not that I wasn't a wild clubber in my time, but that was quite a while pre-baby I'm afraid, baby just came along as the Ultimate Excuse for not going out every Saturday night anymore...

No, I'm talking about the blissful days of just lots and lots of time spent in bed. Reading, dreaming, gazing out the window at the mountain. Delicious afternoon naps, reading until 3am, turning the lights out at 9pm, all of these options have become such rarefied luxuries these days.

There's always some wanker going on about how one's bed should be a sanctuary and that one should only use it for sleeping (and the occasional shag I imagine) and not 'sully' it with laptops and homework and cats and biscuit crumbs etc, but I think that's a load of bollocks.
My bed is one of my favourite places in the whole wide world and Africa and recently I started to miss it.

Obviously I sleep in it every night, but that time had become so functional - dragging myself off to bed when I really couldn't stay awake any longer, sleeping like the dead, jumping out in the morning when baby calls or alarm went off. I miss the lazing, the safe, comfy snuggling. The kitty time. I miss being horizontal even when I'm not actually asleep. And I miss reading for hours, not just a quick few pages before ohgodIsimplymustturnthelightoutortomorrowwillbehell.

And so I'm resubscribing my membership of Club Duvet. I plan to spend loads more time here over the next week, even if it is computer time (how much do I love wireless internet?) or work time, it happens here. With kitties and biscuit crumbs and phones and my delicious new read waiting patiently for me. I will be found in bed, thank you very much!

And in the absence of an orgasmically beautiful Tord Boontje garland light which I've always coveted for my bedroom, I've strung up this Christmas bauble, which catches the light just so, and makes me very happy. 

Update: the mirror ball of Club Duvet! Rock on!

babies & birthdays

3 noteworthy birthdays in the last few days. 3 that have held a special significance to me, although none of them have been mine.

First up, an unexpected one. Some friends of ours have been expecting a baby boy in February. However, unexpectedly, due to a calcified placenta, the decision was made to Caesar yesterday, at 29 weeks. 29 weeks. Tiny Luca is 1.1kg, but apparently doing really well in an incubator. His parents are bearing up too, but the whole experience has shaken us all.

1.1kg. I just tear up thinking about how hard that little guy is fighting, how unbelievably hard it must be for his parents to watch his struggle, not being able to hold him, or connect with him, his mum not being able to put him to her breast and gaze at his little face as she guides him from his previous home to this one.

I've been holding this little family so close to my heart the last few days.
And I've been thinking about the notion of prayer and almost envied being able to say 'I'll pray for you', to an audience that take real comfort from the words. It just seems so neat and tidy, and so situationally appropriate. A globally recognised way of expressing your love, concern and support to someone in need. It seems so organised.
And I like organised, generally.
But I like my way of navigating the world too, and when I say to my friends that I'm holding them and Luca close to my heart, I really can feel their presence there like a physical weight on my chest. I'm praying in my own way, and I'm praying that this story will have a happy ending.

The next birthday is a very special one. My first baby turned 10 this week. That's double digits y'all - remember how good that feels!
Of course, she's not actually my baby. But she was the first in our immediate circle of friends, and has literally lived around the corner from us for most of her life, so I like to stake a little claim in her upbringing.

Our friend, her mum, returned from a trip to Australia with a visible bump and a shocked expression. She'd been told some years before that she'd never be able to conceive and so, when she started craving avocado's smeared with Vegemite in Sydney the last thing in the world she expected was this....

But it turns out that while camping on the banks of river in a grove of tea-trees in Queensland ... the unexpected had happened... Later she heard rumours that the Aborigines of old thought that place to be blessed, and more recently we had a nervous semi-cynical giggle on reading this ... stranger things have happened I guess?

And last but not least, my youngest brother celebrated his birthday this week. He's a traveller, an academic, a wonderful cook, a considerate and deeply caring brother and friend, and he's just moved into a house down the road from us! Yay!

Happy Birthday all 3 of you!

1 last thing: I've got a job!

And is it ever cool?!

It's with them. Seriously; how cool?

Of course it's not in Geneva or anything. It's with their country office in tiny little Swaziland. That's Swaziland not Switzerland.
Less cheese, more Queens. Well, more queens in the traditional sense of the word...

Anyhoo, I am contracted to them for the next few months which is;
a) a job! finally! christmas presents for all!
b) going to be exciting, challenging and stimulating (Swaziland is not without some major problems - TAB: That's Africa Baby)
and
c) did I mention, very very cool!

and on a lighter note: what the fuck?

And, in homage to Amanda's What the Fuck Wednesday's - which I love, I present to you this....

Taken, and I kid you not, by myself, this afternoon, in my town.

Pushing up daisies...?

democracy - must it apply to everyone?

This evening I went to a public participation hearing for a new City by-law. In theory I love the democratic concept of being allowed a forum in which to express one's opinion and comment on City policy and legislation.
I just wish we could curtail who exactly gets to exercise this democratic right. Some animals may not be more equal than others, but some people definitely are more full of shit!

The hearing was in the Civic Centre, a monstrous monolith of mighty eyesore-ness and impracticality in the city. During office hours it's inhospitable enough with no parking, no signage and absolutely no visual appeal, but on an unseasonably cold and stormy evening it's gloomy, deserted and filled with eerie noises from the howling wind. Like the complaints of all the frustrated tax-payers and the exhausted humdrum of the underpaid city workers take voice after everyone has left, and moan and sigh around the deserted halls.

That said, the hearing was well run, and the by-law we were examining very relevant to the city, and progressive and necessary for Cape Town as an internationally acclaimed destination for events and tourism, especially in the lead-up to 2010.

However, a contingent of the participants were from the dreaded Ratepayer's Associations and Civic Organisations and other community bodies which I'm afraid, in my experience, do very little but moan and complain. And as another Concerned Citizen used the opportunity to spout forth his incredibly boring personal campaign against Anyone, Anywhere, Ever Having a Good Time Ever, the only way I could stop myself from ramming my pen into my eyeball was to doodle this list:
whinge
sanctimonious
self-righteous
prejudice
boring
mother grundy
self-aggrandising
self-entitlement
asshole
whinge
whinge
whinge
urgghhhhhhh

His barely-veiled prejudice against the Other was just frightening, his fear of his suburb being over-run by "these people" (who? soccer hooligans? cheerleaders? candy-floss toting Nigerians?), his whiny self-righteous sanctimonious nasal tone, his pursed lips sense of entitlement - urgghhhhhh! I mean who, who, thinks it's still okay (or even relevant) to say, in public, things like "15 years ago this would never have happened..."??
Dude, 15 years ago we wouldn't have been sitting in this room with black people! WAKE UP YOU WANKER!

Or please, please, immigrate to somewhere small and cold and very, very dull.

100 things in the world I (also) love

I stole this list from hula seventy. I couldn't help myself. I started reading her list and it rung so true (well 85% true at least) that I stole it and amended it and now I'm calling it mine. Thanks for the legwork Andrea, and the lovely inspirational list.


1. fake mustaches
2. record players
3. library books
4. avocados
5. art supply stores
6. lightning lady bugs
7. mexican coca cola beer
8. subway motorbike rides
9. paper lanterns
10. street art
11. lemons
12. typewriters
13. mashed potatoes
14. modern break dance
15. crayons
16. roller-skating
17. midnight movies
18. glass jars
19. yard sales
20. mix tapes
21. cotton dresses
22. windows without burglar bars fire escapes
23. old cameras
24. plane tickets
25. robots
26. lip gloss balm
27. polaroids
28. apple- b lobbing
29. kite-flying
30. farm stands
31. dictionaries
32. bubble gum bath
33. string lights
34. old gymnasiums
35. elevator buttons
36. striped socks
37. tiny european cars
38. christmas trees
39. braids
40. photographs
41. ferry free rides
42. old suitcases
43. chocolate cake
44. black pens
45. laundry lines
46. foreign languages
47. peppermint vanilla soap
48. bicycles
49. art museums
50. road trips
51. crazy quilts
52. b-boys
53. sparklers
54. accordians
55. sunlight
56. giant playground slides
57. seashells
58. clawfoot tubs
59. bluebirds
60. bridges
61. thrift stores
62. bright-colored tights
63. swimming pools
64. finger toenail polish
65. public fountains
66. dance class
67. donuts with sprinkles
68. college-ruled notebook paper
69. crushed ice
70. photobooths (I'm officially hunting for one in Cape Town)
71. cherry anything vodka
72. snow globes
73. old school adidas (yes! yes! yes!)
74. polka dots
75. open fields
76. postcards
77. attic bedrooms
78. street drummers
79. turquoise rings
80. slumber parties
81. chinese yo-yos
82. daisies
83. flashlights
84. paint chips
85. clover fynbos honey
86. silly straws
87. bare feet
88. birthday candles
89. tire swings
90. sugar scrubs
91. india ink
92. ocean waves
93. bubble wands
94. corn naanbread
95. moonlight
96. super heroes
97. pink flamingos
98. aluminum foil
99. roller coasters
100. fortune cookies

And thanks to Julochka for the introduction!

you know it's gonna be a crap tuesday when...

...you come out of your local mini-mart with the paper and a box of fags and discover you've been awarded a pancake car, compliments of shoddy builders upstairs (no, not Upstairs, though I'm sure the builder will try to claim an Act of God).



This morning, in our main road...

Luckily,



a) no one was hurt - which is a frikkin' miracle
b) t'wasn't my car

Although I've parked in that very spot 548 326 times in the last 8 years.
As we like to say in SA, 'Ag shame' which means, 'I feel for you bru, but thank f*ck it wasn't me!'

karma, baby

Just to kick off: I'm a little annoyed that I seem to have to log on to blogger through boring old Internet Explorer if I want to have the full bag of composing tricks at my disposal. I think my spacing problem of late was related to my preferred browser being Opera, and then, as of last night, I could only compose in HTML with no linkies or italics (and I love italics see), and that just sucked.

So now I've moved Her Blogship to Her own browser all by Herself. She's taking over me I tell you, and I have to wonder, is this how Bill Gates is going to become god in the end?

But I digress, there's loooooads more bullsh*t to come in this one...

Next: a Confession.
(And yes, this is a serious moment)

Deep breath.

I'm not really sure on where my karma sits on the next incident. And can I just say I'm kinda more and more conscious of karma, the very basic concept of it, in my life these days. I sometimes wonder if this is how one attains a spirituality of sorts, although my current gut instinct about karma is that it's much more related to how we interact with each other here, now, tomorrow, than in anything that may or may not happen in the big afterness.

Do unto others, what comes around goes around, ubuntu etc etc, it all boils down to a very simple message, and one which I think plays out on earth.

And ja, I don't really know how I rate karmically on this one...

The Skinny:
Some months ago Frieda and I were in one of our favourite places when we strolled past another mum, with a younger baby baby, and she immediately invited us to sit down on her blanket for a chat. We did, for a little while, and it boiled down to this.

• She was in that space I remember so well; she's still very much home, nursing the baby, and everyone else has kind of moved on with their lives.
• Her friends are busy with other things and she needs a baby-buddy.
• She's chosen a pretty good place to look for one but,
• it's not going to be me.
• I'm just not in that space anymore, I've a toddler - it's a whole different thang.
• I'm not in the market for new friends, I've lots whom I value deeply.
• I'm just not that in to her.

So to cut to the chase, she asked for my number so we could hang out again, I panicked and didn't know how to reject her, and I'm not proud about it, but I wrong-numbered her.

Just one digit out, just enough to look like human error. I'm shocked at my own deviousness. And I now totally understand why men do this in bars. It's hard to look someone in the eye and reject them outright, even more so when you detect a hint of desperation there. It's easier to just do the ole '1 digit wrong' manouvere.

But if it's any consolation to anyone who's been on the receiving end of this treatment, it really doesn't feel nice to do it at all. I've felt a twinge of regret about it ever since, and never more so than when she walked right past me at the Baby Expo yesterday. Gulp.

I froze, my animal spirit guide (which, by the way is a basset hound, but that's for another post), telling me that if I stood very, very still, she wouldn't see me. And it seemed to work, although it might have been this which disguised me....

You know how I complain about not having lost my baby weight? You thought I was joking huh?

No ha ha ha, this was a fake. An ingeniously designed cami-with-fake-preggie-belly which I was wearing for said Baby Expo while helping a friend of mine promote her ingeniously designed maternity product, visit her site - the wonderful Heather Moore did all the graphics, and My Friend (proud caps) is totally rocking being an important business lady - the product is a hit, and so were we in our cute little belly-suits. It quite made me nostalgic, to be 'pregnant' again for two days.

And made me feel a little broody. And made me remember how those crazy, mad days of early motherhood. And made me feel bad all over again for deceiving that poor fellow mother. And then she walked past me and I remembered that Cape Town could be too small to pull pranks like that.

It's probably too small to blog about it too! Let's see if this one ever comes back to bite me in the ass... eish, karma baby.

post-election back to all about meme

I can't remember where I found this one, but I thought it would be fun.

My uncle once: woke up blind. Turns out it was a stress-related disorder and he regained his sight slowly over a week or so. Scary stuff.

Never in my life: have a cried as much as in the first 3 months of my colicky newborn daughter's life.

When I was five: my Mum bet me I couldn't pee off the back of a truck like my brothers (with no dribbling), and she lost the bet.

High school was: where I met my husband.

I will never forget: sitting in the school bus in a small rural town waiting for my (then) best friend to finish playing tennis on a Friday afternoon, sweating in the heat, listening to the radio, and hearing President de Klerk announce that he was un-banning the ANC and releasing Nelson Mandela. 2 February 1990.

Once I met: Emma Thompson, she is stunningly gorgeous and doesn't have nearly the toff accent she has in most of her film roles.

There’s this girl I know: who makes me laugh and laugh and laugh....

Once at a bar: I kissed a girl (no, not that one) and I liked it.

By noon, I’m usually: feeling coherent. Usually, not always.

Last night: I went to bed hoping like hell Obama would be elected. (Yay!)

If I only had: all the time in the world.

Next time I go to church: it'll be for a wedding or a funeral. I hope the former.

What worries me most: is the baggage retrieval system they have at Heathrow.

You’ll know I’m lying when: I say nothing.

What I miss most about the 80’s is: being a child.

If I were a character in Shakespeare, I’d be:the one in the tights.

A better name for me would be: Lil' Miss Optimistic.

I have a hard time understanding: people with no sense of humour.

If I ever go back to school: I wouldn't do a thing differently.

You know I like you if: I tease you.

Take my advice, never: ignore your gut instinct.

My ideal breakfast is: pancakes, bacon, maple syrup & a latte.

If you visit my hometown, I suggest you: brace yourself to encounter racism. Still.

Why won’t people: stop being stupid? Duh.

The world could do without: fast food. It's over-rated.

I’d rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: the belly of a toad.

My favorite blondes are: my daughter, myself and Marilyn Monroe.

If I do anything well, it’s: manage difficult people.

And, by the way: everything looks better after a good night's sleep.

one last reason not to vote mcCain....

Is this chick for real?

Blue stockings? Really? Is this a most subtle, subliminal way of telling all the Joe the Plumbers' that she's like, way clever and like, cultured?

Strawberry clips? The day before your father runs for arguably one of the Most Important Jobs in the world? Way to go cultured lady...

Abraham Lincoln accessories?? Now you're just frikkin' kidding me right? Paired with turquoise Ray-Bans, an i-something and black nail polish. Makes Sarah Palin look like a fashion icon...

And then finally, a quote from the above-featured Meghan McCain, "I have like a sixth sense about campaigns,".

Let's see about that. One of the things I'm most looking forward to doing tomorrow is visiting her blogspot one last time to see what she's got to say about Daddy's Crushing Defeat.

he'i ... op ... tah

(or 'helicopter' as pronounced by a 16month old - mine)

We live in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Or so I'm told. It's certainly the most beautiful I've ever seen but then I don't get out much. But I mean really, this is virtually in my backyard, so don't tell me I'm exaggerating here.

However, besides this fucking awesome mountain, we also live very close to a busy public hospital, an over-rated tourist hub, a military air-base and, as a result, directly below the flight-path of about (and for once I'm really not kidding), 20 helicopters a day. Ok, maybe 10 but still, that's a lot of air traffic.

And the reason why I can't claim to have spawned a child prodigy on this one, just a Very Observant Little Girl.

Anyhoo, a favourite is the Huey. It's a genuwine Vietnam-era Huey he'i ... op ... tah, did tours out there, the works. And it's the only Huey in The World licensed to carry commerical passengers. (It's highly likely this is an indication of our slack Aviation Authority, so nothing to really be bragged about, but we take our accolades where we can in this town.)

The Huey comes over every day, twice a day, with its distinctive whup-whup-whup sound - and although Frieda doesn't yet have the noise branded in her aural soundbank from too many 'Nam movies (like some of us), she always notices it over and above the other helicopters, it gets a special finger pointed in the sky, a special gleeful toothy he'i ... op ... tah mention.

And so it came to pass that it was my brother's 30th birthday last week, and being one of those chaps for whom it's impossible to buy gifts, and a consummate aircraft geek, we all chipped in and booked him on the Huey's Combat Mission - a combat simulated flight up the deserted West Coast, complete with fast and low beach flying, popping over sand-dunes and flying far to close to the sea than anyone who's not a seagull should contemplate doing.

And obviously he was totally blown away (figuratively of course, this was just simulated you understand) and had an amazing time AND scored a second trip, with his wife, because the pilot (who my brother reckons got his license the same year the Huey was built) thought he was a big enough fan to deserve it.

Where am I going with all of this you wonder?

Well, to the rocking good fun I had last night creating this beauty (although muchos engineering credit must go to the husband) for said brother's birthday lunch today. Do you have any idea of the satisfaction in attaining perfect Huey-green icing? And that all I could sing in my head the entire time I was making it was Gimme Shelter by the Rolling Stones?

And the hilarity at having one's daughter say, every time the fridge was opened this morning, 'he'i ... op ... tah, mmm, hmmmm'?