it's snowing in ayrshire!

no really ... hot damn i only have to put my nomadic feet on african soil and ...
it starts snowing ...
where i would have been ...
if i was not here ...

not to worry, i dare say i will "get over it" ... the snow envy, maybe ...

i am having a wonderful time in the old home country. it is summer, the sun shines, the birds sing and my face grows browner by the day. no more british palor for this girl. well, not on my face anyway. the rest of me remains super white!

this past week peter saddled up and took his aging mama on a road trip. a veritible journey into the past. a time of renewing the family connection. pure bliss for mama, the dear boy handled himself impeccably! we visited, we embraced, we stayed, i drank an ocean of coffee and peter imbibed enough coca cola to fill loch lomond! i looked into the eyes of my dear siblings, those wonderful souls who have been with me from my first memories. i have hugged and been hugged, i have cried and talked, shared news and memories, caught up on the comings and goings of the next generation and their offspring.

my youngest and i visited the botanical gardens in my old home town, pietermaritzburg.
the morning dew, still thick on the grass, soaked through our shoes as we made our way to 'the place'.
'the place' is a grand old camphor tree. beneath the spredding branches, in memory of my beloved mann is a memorial bench.
we sat and remembered the good times, we held tight and felt our loss as sharp and painful as the day we lost him.
does time help, does it dull the pain of remembering?
perhaps we have no wish to forget the beloved mann who lived and loved and enriched our lives.

yesterday we returned to joburg, happy to escape the excessive heat and humidity of kwazulu natal.
we were welcomed home with the kind of storm i adore, a ferocious downpour, flooding the streets and turning roads into raging rivers! these storms do tend to slow down the traffic a little but ... i was a passenger and free to enjoy this wild, wonderous, wet, african bounty.

sounds of home

ah man, the big blue sky, the warmth, the sounds, the brilliant colours, the smell of home!

i was sitting at my boy's computer this morning, catching up on my emails, when ...

"meeeeeelieeees"

i guess only another exiled south african would understand the simple pleasure this shout (screech?) brought to my heart. mealies ... for those of you who have not sojourned under african skies ... mealies are fresh maize, still on the cob. in summer when the crops ripen, vendors will balance a load on their head and wander the streets. the shout of "meeeelieees" alerts the local residents to the fact that fresh mealies are out, about and available for purchase.

what spells 'home' for me?
today it was that familiar call.

going south

there is a wee bit of a gale blowing this morning! so now we have the wind chill factor ...ugh ...

today i can allow myself to be a little churlish about the weather. come tuesday i fly home to south africa for a month.

of course, south africa is no longer really home, these old bones of mine have settled down pretty comfortably in scotland.
still and all, she is the motherland, familiar, beloved and full of family and friends.

january and february are two of the hottest months. i will probably last a whole day before i start bitching about the heat.

three and a half years since my last visit! i have purchased a fancy new mobile phone with a rather cool camera, who knows, read the instruction book and i may well have some photos to share on my blog.
dear readers ... please don't hold your breath, merely a passing thought!

i have not done much planning for this visit. i arrive in johannesburg on the 14th and will probably spend a couple of weeks with pj and gereth. pj turns 30 on the 16th january and he is throwing a huge birthday bash ... my boy is quite the party planner, unlike his mom who considers a dvd, a chinese take away and a bottle of red a most excellent way to celebrate!

once the party is over i will be off on my travels, spending time with my beloved siblings and catching up with dear friends.

hopefully ...
a few blogable events will occur.
with a little luck ...
i will manage to remember them.


Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self.

Cyril Connolly (1903 - 1974)


After being Turned Down by numerous Publishers, he had decided to write for Posterity.

George Ade (1866 - 1944), "Fables in Slang", 1899

wordspinner

i want to be read! i need to be read!

please pimp my new poetry blog!

i am an unpublished poet who needs to share my words with the world.

i dream of a thousand poetic hits a day ... well a girl can dream, can't she?

yeah ... i know i blog but...
my poetry is what i'm really about.

wordspinner

where i will share my favourite favourites.

new year colds, bird feeders and travel

i was supposed to go to a party on new years eve... or is it old years eve? anyhow, the evening of december 31st.

hah!

instead i joined the ranks of the suffering, sniffing, coughing and spluttering.

i had spent christmas eve with my beloved (even though, oft germ carrying) grandchildren.
of course they shared, why would they not? our family, on the whole, are deeply generous when it comes to sharing. after all ... a virus shared ...

i greeted 2009 in a bleary eyed state, unfortunately not caused by over indulgence.




i have recently joined the ranks of 'the wild bird feeders'.

come christmas time, the dwp (that would be the department for work and pensions for any non british readers) are overwhelmed with a sense of yuletide generosity
us social pensioners receive a ten pound christmas bonus!
who needs capitalism ...
bring us your poor, your disabled, your elderly and we will make their festive season jingle ...

so there i was, with an extra ten pounds in my bank account.

zounds!

i bought a bird feeder, bird seed and a bunch of fat balls. best investment i ever made.
hang your fat balls and they will come!

of course, once you start, you can't stop. uh uh! the feathered scroungers grow to depend on you which leaves me with a problem. i am due to fly off home to south africa for a month, my youngest turns thirty on the 16th and he and his partner, have bought mommy dearest a ticket home,

guess i will need to engage a wild bird sitter whilst i'm away.

Happy Holidays!

to you and yours from me and mine ...

milk?

i arrived home on saturday, slightly jet lagged and smelling of damp clothes and coffee. breakfasting on an international flight when my inner clock tells me it it really one thirty in the morning ...
not a good idea, the breakfast was light and i am always happy to eat, however ...
it would appear that i slipped back into sleep whilst clutching a paper cup of boiling hot black coffee.
my body parts perform this interesting jerk as i fall asleep. used to be just a leg, nowadays it can be any friggin' limb. guess it was my arm this time around!
ouch ... i rejoined the conscious world with really hot coffee seeping into my lap...
kind of hard to leap up in exquisite pain when one is strapped into a plane seat! luckily i had the row of seats all to myself and the jeans i was wearing were black. black is great ... covers a multitude of messes and embarrassing wet patches left by spilled coffee!
fortunately the degree of burns i suffered was not life threatening.
maybe i should start putting milk in my coffee?