Category Archives: HUMOUR

A RE-POST FROM JULY 2017: SLOW BLOGGING


*JAP:  SLOW BLOGGING

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Today I discovered a new literary blog  on WordPress – dolcebellezza  thanks to the industrious blogger on bookertalk.wordpress.com  who is a marvellous source of info on literary topics.  Anyway, when I was reading the About  section on dolcebellezza,  she made an interesting remark on the topic of Slow Blogging, saying that having reached her 10th Blogging Anniversary (I’m impressed) she’s come to realise the  satisfaction of Slow Blogging. The capitalisation is mine, not hers. In essence it’s about  no longer being driven, or feeling you have to blog daily – or weekly – or instantly – whatever crazy targets you have set for yourself. Instead you blog whenever you have the inclination  and take time to enjoy the process. Kind of like the  Slow Food movement  I suppose? Things that take a long time to cook, whether prose or pumpkin, generally taste much nicer when you get to savour that deep flavour.

Theoretically I have a target of one blog per week, for each of my two blogs * but it doesn’t always turn out that way. Does it matter? Hell no. I blog because I enjoy it, so  less of the whip and treadmill technique can only be good news.

*(Just a Paragraph:  when I’m short of time and/or inspiration, I keep my blog ticking over with ‘just a paragraph’: random thoughts, reflections, comments, ideas … little snippets)

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JOLLY HOLLY TO ALL


 

 

IMG_20191111_090310_resized_20191111_053834643 (002)I was hunting in my desk for my address book, because I need to send out three Christmas cards – yes, readers, those antique objects : Christmas cards. Remember them? The glitter? The snowy scenes, the holly, the robins. All wildly inappropriate seeing my Christmases are hot, sunny and dry, but never mind, tradition is tradition!
Inside my address book I found old lists dating back to 2004, listing the names of people who annually received cards from me in December. Some of the names mean nothing to me now, pen friends of yore I suspect; some folk have died, others have moved out of my life. Every year I receive fewer and fewer cards but I stick them up and enjoy the green and red cheer.

 
Many cards only arrive at the end of January and sometimes February or March, due to the vagaries of our postal service. So I tuck them away for the year ahead and enjoy them a year later. And why not? In these difficult times, we need all the good cheer we can get! Don’t you agree?

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RENAMING WEEKDAYS


 

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The slogan ought to read: Take this OFF your calendar!!

I wrote this piece last year after the Friday Frenzy, and kept it, to publish prior to the next awful retail event. It’s a lighthearted piece about consumerism, greed, shopping – but, seriously, I think we need to change our approach to consumerism, it ain’t helping our poor battered planet. I, for one, will not be buying one damn thing on 29 November 2019, Black Friday and encourage the rest of you to do likewise.
Okay, so we’ve had the frenzy of BLACK FRIDAY, followed by CYBER MONDAY and finally (very welcome) GIVE IT BACK TUESDAY. All of which are driven by retail sales marketing and rampant consumerism. How about: CELEBRATION SATURDAY followed by SLOPPY SUNDAY? Monday, of course, offers limitless possibilities. The first option springing to my mind is: MOPEY MONDAY. Wednesday is HUMP DAY – because it’s in the middle of the week , and not the other meaning! Get your mind above your waistband, for goodness sake! Visualise camels. There. That should calm you down.

 
Which brings us to Thursday. Hmm. THUPER THURSDAY ? I can lisp if I want to! It’s my blog. Maybe you have other suggestions? Feel free to make them in the comments section. And: I’m not even offering a prize for the most inventive. You’ll just have to make do with the glory.

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*JAP* SO WHO’S AN ACHING LITTLE GARDENER?


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Me, that’s who!
But the glow of satisfaction is warming my sore hands and aching lower back. Oh! The aged bod.
Mid-winter is the time to oil my secateurs and lay waste to the straggling fuschia, the lanky geraniums and the snail munched canary creeper. Snip, Snip, and off they come. Pausing constantly to yank out the indigenous foxglove which is the most persistent plant on the planet, so far as I’m concerned. I use it as ground cover, but somehow the plant didn’t get the message, because it has rooted itself into every pot and tub on my patio with gusto. I’ve seen pics of the rioting vegetation swarming over the deserted area area around Chernobyl in Russia, so if Koeberg ever blows its lid, a mere fifteen kays away from my house, I am quite confident that the good old foxglove will shake off the radiation in no time, and proceed to envelop everything within a ten kay radius. Plant power versus nuclear power. You’d better believe it.

*JAP* Just a Paragraph to keep my blog ticking over whilst I’m working on longer writing projects.

 

 

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*JAP* BEATING THE WINTER BLUES INSTALMENT 2


 

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Drag out those old LPs, dust them off, and crank up the turntable.

 

Here come the 50s, 60s, 70s . Those singalong tunes, the cheesy lyrics, the falsetto yodelling of Slim Whitman, the brassy trumpets and the salsa music. The heart broken cowboys lamenting lost loves, accompanied by mournful guitar twanging. You no longer own a turntable? Chucked out the old records? Not to worry. Just turn the radio dial to LM Radio, which is pumping out pretty much non-stop music of our youth. Reprising a few of the old dance steps will your blood flowing, and warm you up. Dancing not your thing? Then go & sit in the sun. Bask a little. Turn up the radio. Enjoy!
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/LM_Radio
http://www.radio-south-africa.co.za/lm-radio

*JAP = just a paragraph to keep my blog ticking over, whilst I’m busy with longer posts.

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JUNE 2019 CAPE TOWN ROUND UP


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Mid-year finds me depressed by crime and politics. Crime I’m going to skip over, relating the catalogue of recent mind-blowing events will not help or change anything, and a rehash will depress me even further.
Mid-month, to preserve my sanity, I turned off my trusty little red radio and limited local news to a 5 minute bulletin at breakfast time. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by the tide of crime and politics, none of the news in these categories is good. I remembered the advice of American Dr Weil, way back in the early 1990s, who advocated a 6 week news fast, exercise, an anti-inflammatory diet, and his cherry on top was: buy flowers once a week for your home. Pretty good advice in my opinion. To which I would add: sit in the sun, whenever possible. It eases my arthritis if nothing else.

Seems I’m not the only one feeling overwhelmed by the current global political climate, and ex-Saffer- now -Aussie Joanne Fedler’s recent post on the 100th Monkey story came timeously. Here’s the link: https://mailchi.mp/88b499636593/you-could-make-this-place-beautiful?e https://joannefedler.com/
On the political front, we had the Prez’ State of the Nation address/SONA , which evoked a torrent of ridicule, scorn and derision because the man had the temerity to dream a little, and speak of a bright future for South Africa, featuring a brand new mega-city (a la China) and a Bullet Train. Well – why not? What a refreshing change to think of the country in bright positive terms instead of wallowing in the dark muddy mire of the present.

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Cathy and the Trolley Dollies in Cape Town were the DA’s special guests for the 2019 Sona on 20 June 2019. Picture: Cindy Archillies/EWN
One SONA linked event cheered me enormously. Don’t ask me why, but the Democratic Alliance ( the official opposition) invited the Trolley Dollies to the SONA event. These people are female impersonators aka drag queens . SA pays due politically correct attitudes to all shades and variants of gender. Think SA athlete Caster Semenya. As you can see from the above  pic, the Trolley Dollies are a splendid trio.

Speaking of  women , Gerda Steyn, a South African runner, broke the record for the Up Run Race in the 94th Comrades Marathon that took place on 9th June 2019. For some years the Womens’ race at the annual Comrades was dominated by a pair of Russian twins, which always irked me.

Another Comrades’ story, of which I caught the tale end on the radio, about a domestic worker in Johannesburg, who regularly runs to work, from Soweto to Rivonia, a distance somewhere between 44 kms and 58 kms, saying “ I don’t run for the money – I run to be part of Comrades”. The human spirit can be extraordinary.
In similar vein, the following anecdote: you were casting about for some good news, Alison, why not mention that lovely story about that petrol attendant who paid the R100 for the girl who left her credit card at home? And when she put this good deed up on Facebook, everyone was so cheered up by his generosity that they have collected R495,000 for him – and still counting, nice . Thanks to my friend Ginny, for reminding me not all is doom and gloom.

So: ending on a lighter note. My friend Vanessa and I had a fabulous girly morning at the Charity Luxury Vintage fashion event, held at the Waterfront, in the Cruise Ship Passenger Terminal. I stood on the balcony, looking out over Table Bay, and dreamed of cruising for the rest of my life, as a permanent passenger on the QEII. I believe an elderly British lady did just that. Apparently it was economically viable option for her. I wish!
At the sale I drooled and oohed and aahed over Jimmy Choo and Louis Vuiton handbags; they’re one of my many weaknesses. I promised myself I wouldn’t buy any more handbags, but as you can see from the pic below, who was I kidding? I salved my conscience with the thought that I was supporting a charity working for literacy and children’s reading. So I’m enjoying my handbags and polishing my halo.
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*JAP* BEATING THE WINTER BLUES


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Tip #1 – sit outside in the sun whenever and wherever possible. Following the example of my fat feline guest. Tip #2 – turn off all sources of media – radio and electronic. Tip #3 – refuse to listen to news bulletins. Tip #4 – take advantage of the glorious weather and go on an outing – fresh air and sunshine are a restorative combo. Tip #5 – once the sun sets, make cocoa. Enjoy!

*JAP = just a paragraph to keep my blog ticking over, whilst I’m busy with longer posts.

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MAY 2019 CAPE TOWN ROUND UP


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Jean Doyle’s bronze statue of Just Nusiance; erected 1985 overlooking Simonstown Harbour.

FINALLY the Elections are OVER. Whew! Not a moment too soon. All the talking heads busily telling us who voted/didn’t vote (many of the unemployed, disinterested millenials) followed by a fresh bout of punditry on who would/would not be elected to the Cabinet. Which Prez Cyril has told us will be surgically trimmed to 22 ministries, as opposed to the current bloated 35. Jobs for pals, our previous Prez’s modus operandi, meant we could have built a wonderful braai/barbecue fire with the deadwood in Parliament. That is, provided we could have woken them up in time to herd them off to the braai fire. Our MPs are notorious for snoozing peacefully on their cosy Parly benches, as many pics have testified.
Election fatigue was followed by the drama over the new cabinet : who’s in? who’s out? The days of delay while the behind scenes turmoil of bargaining, bluster, and probably blackmail play out against the backdrop of a tripartite political party. The ruling party is a robust alliance of the African National Congress (ANC) the SA Communist Party (SACP) and the COSATU (the Congress of SA Trade Unions). Can you imagine trying to satisfy – placate is probably a better word – those three groups? Prez Cyril can have it, rather him than me!

 

I’m finding it difficult to ensure the balance in my monthly Cape Town round-up posts. I don’t want the post to be a non-stop litany of crime, which is pretty much 75% of the daily newscasts in SA, and the Western Cape in particular. I certainly don’t even want to think about, let alone write down the daily national murder rate figure. I heard it yesterday on radio. Quite often, on the days when I don’t feel particularly brave, I work on the principle of “if I close my eyes, it’s not there”, i.e. head in the sand approach; believe me, if you live in SA, you either have sand in your ears, or you’re busy booking your ticket to Perth, WA. There’s a theory that Perth now has a bigger population of white ex-South Africans than the actual Republic; but this is only a snarky rumour.

 

Metal theft is prevalent in my city. The scrap metal dealers don’t ask questions. They weigh the scrap and a desperately poor person gets a few rands in his pocket to feed his family, and/or buy drugs. Garden taps, metal house numbers – you name it. Latest victim of this scourge was Just Nuisance, the magnificent bronze statue of the famous Great Dane overlooking the harbor and Naval dockyards in Simonstown. He stands proudly in Jubilee Square. But some so-and-so prised off the metal dog-collar, and his naval cap, both of which were part of the statuary. Sigh.

 

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The other 25% of our news that is not clogged up with politics, is heavily slanted towards Sports. If its round and it bounces, or if its got four legs or even two legs, and runs, then South Africans will watch it, participate in it, bet on it, follow it, endlessly analyze it, obsess over it. Football, rugby, cricket, golf followed by the rest of the sporting categories. But not by me. I am the .00001% national anomaly who is oblivious to the national passions. And you know what? My sports-free life is just fine, thank you.

 

One major good thing happened to me this month: at last I got the message to collect my renewed Drivers’ Licence card from the Milnerton Traffic Department. The end of a saga that began in September last year, when I virtuously applied well in advance of my expiry date. I had new pics taken ( aaarrrgghhh – do I really look like that?) paid my money, had my eye test, filled out the paperwork and hope to receive the renewal within six weeks. Ha! Foolish woman. First obstacle was months of labour problems, a strike; followed by a dispute with the new service provider who lost over 100 000 applications … mine included.

 

I had to make another trip to the Traffic department, to re-apply and start the process all over again, and seven months later, I finally received my new licence card. That’s what’s so exhausting about living in South Africa – apart from the nervous wear and tear – mundane tasks turn into a Mission of Note.

 

We’ve had glorious mild, sunny weather that has been alarmingly dry. Ours is a winter rainfall area but this year the rains hover above, and then very frustratingly, blow up towards the Southern Cape coast, missing my area. So no new gardening projects for me. But I’ve been feasting on winter produce from my neighbourhood Food Lovers : leeks, which I adore, turnips, cabbage. And I’ve dusted off my big cast-iron soup pot and brewed up delicious Quinoa and Sweet Potato soup. It’s laced with fresh ginger, one of my favourites. I’m a winter person, just in case you hadn’t guessed!

Here’s hoping for a more tranquil and wetter June.

 

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MARCH CAPE TOWN ROUND UP


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The big headlines in March are: Eskom and more load shedding. That’s the South African euphemism for rolling power blackouts.
Oh: maybe I should mention our Public Enterprise power producing company, Eskom, is billions of Rands in the red, and unable to cope. Just a tiny little detail. Talk about fiddling while Rome burns, or rather: does not burn. Eskom can’t keep the turbines turning. Sigh. AND, as the cherry on top: a 9.4% increase in the price of electricity coming next month. Our corrupt, incompetent national power supplier Eskom kicking us, and the poor old abused tax cash cow, in the ribs again.
A load-shedding parallel story from the gang-ridden Cape Flats area of our city. A caller to Cape Talk Radio station reported how, during load shedding, crime rises exponentially in their areas. Residents are not even safe within their own homes, due to ricocheting bullets. How his teenage son crawled up the stairs to his own bedroom, to study with a LED lantern; the kid crawled because he was terrified of being struck by a stray bullet on his way upstairs. Words fail me. How can we expect people to live like this?

 
South Africa has but one nuclear Power station, and I happen to live quite close to it. Our wonderful government cooked up a scheme to build three more nuclear power stations, to augment our coal fired plants, despite the glaringly obvious fact that solar energy blasts us daily and is a renewable energy source. Whichever way you slice it and dice it, solar energy is the way to go, but unfortunately it seems there’s insufficient kickback opportunities for our crooked politicians along the solar road, so our desperate need to divorce ourselves from coal is mired in inaction and controversy. One tiny crumb of comfort: the nuclear scheme, via Russian suppliers, was blocked and remains in limbo.
February/ March is the date for the annual Koeberg Nuclear Power Station Siren Test. It always gives me the heebie jeebies. The booming, disembodied voice droning : This is only a test. No action is required. This is only a test. Followed by the banshee wailing of an alarm siren. Supposedly, if Koeberg Nuclear Power Station, 15 kms to the north of my area, has an oopsie – think Chernoybl – theoretically the warning system will alert us to immediately vacate the area and congregate at designated gathering points. Personally,I think if Koeberg blows we will all be toast before anybody can press the broadcast system button.

 

 
Maybe Adriaan Nieuwoudt’s scheme to establish an escape haven for beleaguered whites in his new town of Eureka, to hell and gone in the Northern Cape, is not such a bad idea after all. Abundant sunshine, (solar power; Eskom can take a hike), wide open spaces, beautiful Namaqualand spring flowers, plentiful mutton, what’s not to like? And don’t even think about playing that tattered old Race Card. Boo-oooo-rrring.
Fibre Optic cable is being laid in our Village: the 21st Century has officially arrived! Men in hardhats are hauling cable up out of manhole covers in every street and doing technical additions. I won’t be subscribing to it, because I don’t livestream material, and my current ADSL line works just fine, thank you. Additionally, I’m a POP = a Poor Old Pensioner.

 
Despite all the above gloom (pun intended), life goes on. Polo at swish Val de Vie Wine Estate, sponsored by Veuve Cliquot, and organised by SA swimming star, Ryk Neethling who has obviously handled the transition from water to land very successfully. Cape Town is within easy access to dozens of Wine estates, ranging from the ultra-luxurious to the modest but productive smaller ones, that don’t go in for the added-extras like open air concerts, music fests, wedding and conference venues.
Cape Town has hosted an Ed Shieran concert which was packed. What a good thing our 2010 soccer stadium was left standing to serve as a venue. I say this because a few years ago some genius wanted to tear it down and build low cost housing on the site. Other musical excitement this month is the annual Cape Town Jazz festival which always draws huge crowds.

 
The radio promo for the big musical Chicago, which opened mid-March sings : greed , lies, adultery, treachery …. And all that jazz! Sounds suspiciously like the job description for entering South African politics. Sorry: couldn’t resist that one. I’ve had too  much Zondo Commission info this month.

 

Mid-month brought a lovely story about Mufasa, the lion escapee from the Karoo National Park, finally captured in Sutherland, darted and transported by bakkie* back to the park. Apparently during the loading process, locals gathering around the recumbent lion, saying … ssshhhh … don’t make a noise … apparently worried in case he woke up, jumped out and devoured them all! I wish I had a pic to add to this little gem.

 
Finishing on a happier note: here’s a pic of the pink March lilies that bloom annually along the shores of our local Rietvlei Wetland. I had to scrounge a pic online. Thanks to .http://www.everything.co.za/2015/02/march-lily/ . Oddly, they signal the end of summer, not the beginning as one might suppose. Every time I head down the R27 I catch glimpses of them on my left. Luckily it’s a dual carriageway at this point, so I can sneak a peek if the traffic is light. Flowers, along with books, are in prime position on my list of Favourite things.

• Open truck/ute

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BROWN PAPER PACKAGES


 

 

indexBROWN PAPER PACKAGES,
Tied up with string,
These are a few of
My favourite things!

My favourite things! Sang Julie Andrews . Yes, mine too, when I was a kid. Such excitement! A Parcel! With foreign stamps, brown paper, string and sealing wax. A Proper Parcel which only arrived before or after birthdays and Christmases. Posted by kindly aunts from Overseas, that mythical place.

 
When last did you make and post a parcel? Not a padded white bag, a Proper Parcel. Last week I parcelled up a book, to send to a friend in Napier. Not so far from Cape Town as the crow flies, but he no longer drives and I’m not prepared to drive the distance. So a parcel it must be.

 
First I looked for the brown paper. I knew I had some. But where was it hiding? I finally tracked it down, hiding coyly in a cupboard. Next I dug out my sticky tape, scissors, and my ball of string. Got to have string for a Proper Parcel. Parcel completed, I dug out my old address book and find his postal address. Right – Done! Now to glue my return address sticker on the reverse of the parcel.

 
The final touch: tracking down my very last stick of red sealing wax, Burning my fingers as I held the lighter flame to the wax , but it was worth it, I love the smell. It’s a distinctive smell. You don’t get that bonus from a white padded envelope!

 
I have to confess the white padded thingys are a great deal quicker, but I enjoyed the old, familiar process of making a Proper Parcel, even though it took me at least 25 minutes. I’ve sent hundreds of parcels in my lifetime, because my family are scattered all over the place.

 

How about you? When last did you post a Proper Parcel ?

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