Manscaping (mannewales met manhare)

Siende dat manscaping nie vertaal kan word nie, sal ek maar die 2 woorde individueel vertaal.  Gebruik ek Landscaping kom ek uit by: Die Afrikaanse Taalkommissie   Die Tuinbouwoordeboek geen vir die werkwoord “landscape” die vertaling “belandskap” en vir die term “landscaping” gee hy “landskappering, buite-ontwerp, terreinverfraaiing”. [TomMcL].  Wanneer ek dan land met man vervang – Manverfraaiing.  Oeg nee, ek hou meer van Storieklong se “Ontboggoming”

In elk geval, soos meeste ander kan dit my min skeel hoeveel hare die man in my lewe het, solank dit netjies lyk, het ek nie regtig ‘n saak nie.  XX het vroeg sy hare verloor en het toe die baie kortgeskeerde kop-ding gedoen, later jare het hy so ‘n bokbaardjie gegroei en dit was ok.  X was ‘n regte metro-sexual.  Hy kon geen hare op homself (en op my) verdra nie, hy het gewaks, alles gewaks, met bloedstollende gille en al, siende dat hy baie harig was.  Dit wat nie gewaks is nie, is met haarverwyderings-room verwyder.  Die probleem van beide waks en room is dat dit nogal seer ingroei-hare veroorsaak.

Grim hou van die hare op sy kop kort en netjies, hy het ook ‘n snor en baard, wat hy kort hou.  Geen ander hare word verwyder nie.  Die enigste problem met sy borshare is dat dit my kielie wanneer ons cuddle, maar ek moet sê kielie is beter as stekelrig.  Grim lyk vir my na ‘n jonger Kenny Rogers

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Sy blou-blou oë is vir my die mooiste uiterlike ding.  Dit maak my ‘n oë mens eerder as ‘n hare mens.

 

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Sheep-shaggers

No not the Aussies, our government.  I hate queues; banks, post-offices and similar places see me only when absolutely unavoidable.  But in this country, even though you bought passed a driving test (albeit long ago), every 5 years you need to go and renew the damn thing.  Now the process begins, you search on the internet for the things you need to take along, but inevitably one thing always is missing, which means you need to turn around, drive back, get it and then fall into the back of the queue for the 2nd time.

Then comes the eye test.  Just under 20 years ago I had the lasec operation on my eyes and they managed to tear the cornea on my right eye.  Initially this meant that I needed to have a cornea transplant (which is mostly reserved for people that really need it), but later I found out it can be repaired.  Never could I find the time to take a few days off work, but this year….. Anyhow… Previously I managed to guess correctly or guilt the eye-test operator into helping me, but this time they insisted I should go see an optometrist.  Sighing I got into the car to go get a certificate, then back to the licensing department for a third time.  Then comes another queue where they register the lot on the system and finally the payment queue.

10 years ago I also had a “mishap” in this queue, I got to the front(after guessing the direction of the E’s correctly) and the cashier just told me that she can’t issue the receipt as the system clearly states that I have no fingers on my left hand and only a thumb on my right.  No matter how many times I held up my hands for her to see and to check that no scars exist to prove that I have someone else’s hands, she insisted that a commissioner of oaths should take my fingerprints to prove I have hands.  How the hell they previously issued a drivers license to a person that can clearly not hold a steering wheel, was a question for another day.

In any case, back to today’s story.  Today I finally went to fetch the drivers licence.  Only 3 months late (which is a new record for me).  My heart sank to my knees when I got there and saw about 150 people in the queue.  Because I have high heels on (eish) and I’m blond, I feigned ignorance and walked to the front.  When walking, I made sure that I walked just behind a very old man with a walking stick, so it looks as if I’m helping him or I’m with him (Strategies to follow when you don’t like queues).  When I got to the official looking gatekeeper, he informed me that I must just stand in the short queue, a lady collects all the papers until all the seats in front of the counter are filled(so all 20 people wait until the last seat is filled), then walk to the back and after 15 minutes or so (in the non-airconned seats it feels like 2 hours), she calls your name and you have license in hand.

Sheep is what we are in this country and shagging of the sheep is what our government do best.

Karoo dreams

I’m still at work after a busy day trying to sort out cellphone shit.  Just a quick note (with a more complete blog entry to follow):  As Martin Luther King said – “I have a dream…..”  Now Grim and I have a dream.  To go live in the Karoo, do a hippie-thing-a-ma-jing, get out of the rat race and far away from the drama in our lives.  Live simply, love completely and be happy.  I’m so excited, I can just about sing and dance.  We need to make plans on the how and when, but the decision has been made.

Watch this space

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Tears

This blog is being written as I’m crying.  In my office (again), so much that I can’t speak or work.  Those following my blog for a while will know about the spouts of uncontrollable crying.  And that those tears were for myself.  Today’s crying came about from reading this blogpost https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/47031431/posts/1735181671 and the comments on it and then straight there-after another.  The first one started the tears, the second kept it going.  Two very different topics, both speaking of the love of a mother for a child.

The second story is about me, not really, but it could’ve been, here’s mine:

20 years ago, it was my oldest child’s first day of school.  I was young, just 25, and photos were customarily taken on the day.  The woman looking up at the camera was a very different one than the one looking at the screen today.  She had 2 small children and a husband that was so busy with his own interests, that he had long since forgotten he had a wife.  And there was this man at work, her boss, that talked to her, like she was a person.  Like she was an interesting person, who meant something, who had something to say.  And because she was young and naïve, the conversations became longer and longer.  Because the conversations became longer, it was no longer appropriate to conduct them during business hours, so they worked later and later in order to talk more.

Then the boss arranged a visit to one of the depots, and of course she had to go along.  That night, after a few drinks we took the conversation to a new level.  I realised that what I was doing was wrong, but could just not get out of it.  I didn’t love the boss, but wasn’t sure that I loved my husband anymore either.  Devastation hit as the boss told me he was leaving his wife, fuck how could I tell him now that he was only a distraction?  And if I told my husband, does it mean I have to now marry the boss?  Confusion, so I talked more with the boss, making sure to go home on time, as to not have a repeat sexual act, I also gave more attention to my husband as I was feeling so guilty.

One night my husband came home from playing cricket, late as usual, and confronted me with the truth.  How he found out, I still don’t know.  When I admitted it, he became enraged and hit my head against the dining room table until I passed out.  We never saw a therapist and decided to stay together.

We stayed together another 10 years, but things were never the same.  He never trusted me again.  Never.  We lived our separate lives, whenever we had to attend things together, we were barely civil to each other.  He took out his frustration on me a few more times, but I never spoke about it, as surely I deserved it.

Then I met the current X, the kids were old enough to deal with a divorce and I finally had the courage to walk away.

Today I’m still struggling with feelings of guilt.  I know the XX has forgiven me, I know the kids have too, I know God has, but I’m struggling to forgive myself.  I still believe that I am not worthy of love.  I’m not even sure what love really is, how it is supposed to look when it’s really real.  Of my children’s childhood, I remember very few details, maybe because I was so busy with my own things.  Deceit, unhappiness, pretending to be ok, submerging myself in my work to get away from a house of fear and guilt.

I wish I had a mom that knew, even a friend, just someone to talk too during that time.  Someone to give me advise, someone praying for me.  I wish we confided in someone, a therapist, a priest, a friend.  My kids grew up and turned into “normal” adults despite me, not because of.

 

 

i-fuck

I’m just over it, totally over it.  Bought the I-watch a little under 2 years ago and blondie didn’t read the T&C’s, so needless to say, I had to buy an I-phone to make the watch work.  So today without doing anything, the I-phone decided to switch itself off and now it needs to be restored.  What I will have on the phone (whenever the “unknown error” is resolved), heaven knows.  I-phone fuck-up, so for now I’m fucked without phone, yeah.

iphone

Road trip day 13, 14 and 15 – Conclusion

The last day in Zim was spent doing a little shopping and having lunch with the family.  On Friday morning we packed all our stuff and started to head back.  Border-crossings were a breeze as we only went through borders that are accessible by gravel-roads (of course).  Friday night we slept over in a guest house in Dendron and Saturday we drove home.  It was quite the anti-climax to arrive home after being in each other’s company for 2 weeks.  The dogs were extremely happy to see me at least.

Thank you Grim for an absolutely awesome time.  Thank you for showing me that a more mature relationship could be just as much fun as one with a juvenile delinquent.  We don’t need to party every night to enjoy life, in actual fact it is much better when you can remember what you did and don’t have a hangover the next day.  You have shared your memories with me, we’ve made new ones on this trip too.   Sorry for all the Afrikaans music played in the car, but the deal was: Every time I hear screeching tyres, I’m allowed.

Road trip day 13 – Bulawayo: Family farm

Before Grim points it out, let me note: Yesterday we did do some travelling too, on gravel as always, to see Grim’s Primary school.  Let me just start by saying, he attended this boarding school after being thrown out of the others.  He even was asked to leave his nursery school.  Apparently it is not good to vent your anger on other children’s ears, especially when you have a scissor in your hands.  I have seen glimpses of this side of him, but luckily never directed at me.  We started out by going to the dam on the farm and then travelled to Marula to see the school.  All done on gravel at break-neck speed.

Anyhow… Today we set off early to go visit Matopos, Grim’s nephew and his girlfriend accompanying us.  Grim has mentioned this place several times, as being the most beautiful place on earth.  He has also said that he one day wants to be buried there.  Of course, not like a normal person in a grave, but carried up the steep hill, by his friends, in a 40 gallon drum and then rolled down the hill.  Makes me only shake my head.

Anyhow… (Again)  Matopos is a magical place, with rocks stacked on top of each other, that looks like it will fall down at any second

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We started out by visiting a dam and then Grim said he wanted to show us something.  In the middle of the bush, reachable only by a two-spoor path, is a statue of Mary.  He wasn’t sure who built it or why, but there it is.

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Grim and his nephew then committed some breaking and entering of a lock to access a road, otherwise we needed to take a detour of 30km’s.  We arrived at Matobo Hills lodge, the place Grim says he wants to get married (to who I’m not sure, I suspect it has something to do with the $3000 fee they ask for 45 guests).  Beautiful place, built on and surrounded by rocks.

IMG_3376.JPG There-after we visited the grave of Cecil John Rhodes.  Grim (and me) were sweating and out of breath after the climb up the hill.  This hill overlooking the magical green scenery of the trees and the vast expanse of the rocks, holds the remains of the pioneer of the Cape-to-Cairo railroad.  How they manage in those days to get his remains and the massive tombstones up there, is a complete mystery to me.

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When we travelled back, we found a rock that was irresistible to Grim, he just had to drive up it, so we could have “Vodka on the rocks”

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And then we went home, after a quick detour of the caves (which were not that impressive, or it might have been the Vodka?).  On the road we saw two of those bush-vehicles parked and the people all standing in the veld.  Like proper Gautengers we rubber-necked until we made out that there were rhinos there.  After a almost handbrake-turn, we stopped and made the trip through the veld.  Again like proper Gautengers, we couldn’t quite place where the rhinos were and by that time all the other people were gone.  We finally found them, four rhino lying down under the shade of a tree.  De-horned and not too interested in the 4 newcomers, only about 50m from them.  When their ears started to twitch (and after loads of photos), we made our way back to the bakkie.  Cherry on top of another great day.

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PS – When we got back to the bakkie an armed, with AK47, guard was waiting for us.  Apparently there are quite a few of these guards that travel with the rhino at all times.  Comforting to know.

 

Road trip day 12 – Bulawayo: Family farm

After yesterday’s festivities, today we lounged around, not doing much of anything.  Except eat, that we did a lot of.  Fried ham for breakfast, leftovers for lunch and supper.  I can see my clothes shrinking away, surely it must be the wash they didn’t have.

Makes me think of an old Afrikaans poem:

Otjie, potjie vette vark,
werk in die tuin met ‘n langsteel hark.
Hy hark en hy hark tot die steeltjie breek
en woeps in Otjie se magie steek.

I haven’t done any gardening though, but nonetheless look vey much like a little fat piggy.

vark

Road trip day 11 – Bulawayo: Family farm

Day 11 – Christmas day.  We wake up early and start to set up tents, tables and chairs for the family and friends arriving later.  Christmas in this house is a huge affair.  Amidst the hustle and bustle, we found time to open presents.  I miss my kids today, but not the grown-up ladies they have become, I miss their innocent faces when they were still small.  Their eager faces, waiting to open gifts, their simple happiness for every gift.  Grim’s cousin B, keeps record of every gift received, who brought it (and who didn’t), she also buys gifts for all the family and the friends.  For me, today’s greatest gift is this love.  This love we found when I was just about to stop looking.  This love that is mature enough to not fight about petty things, but immature enough to have fun and enjoy life to it’s fullest.

Lunch is a lamb on the spit, but here the “spit” was a hole dug in the ground, fire made in a drum and coals slowly added below the meat.  Fascinating how the hole got dug early in the morning by the farmworkers.  Yes here they work, even on Christmas.

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About 40 people arrived (I stopped counting after a while, just as I stopped trying to remember names) and soon everyone was kuiering under the big trees.  I could never understand the logistics of a braai, men and women forming their own little cliques, here it wasn’t any different, the cliques consisting of the husband’s family on one side and the wife’s on the other.  Mostly with the women running in and out the house to get salads etc. organised.  Later the men all gathering around the sheep to offer their expert opinions, of course with me disrupting their conversations every so often.  I felt a little bit out of place between all the people, so no wonder I drank a little too much, resulting in a tractor ride around the farm after lunch and a nap shortly there after.

A good day all round, the tractor ride being my highlight for sure.  I’ve never been on a tractor, so to drive one was a treat.

Trekker

January

Happy 2018.  New year, new you?  New Year’s resolutions that are quickly forgotten are also not for me.  And happy divorce month to all!!

Yes you’ve read correctly, from January to early March apparently is break-up season.  There are many theories why this might be, but logically it makes sense.  Some people wait until after the silly season to finally make a move, others have additional financial strain brought on by overspending over the festive season and their relationship just can’t take the additional strain.  The legal system also shuts down over December, so people postpone the break-up till after then.  Add to that the over-eating and over-drinking, that leads to self-hate and lots of fights and it is actually surprising that any couples stay together in January.

Personal experience – the 1st of Jan 2016, X told me he was bisexual, which signified the start of the end.  5th Jan 2017, he told me it’s over and we need a divorce.  So statistically I’m right on par for divorce month.  Friends of mine, this year, found out one of the partners has been cheating and are currently separated.

I can’t help but reflect on the past for a little bit.  Reflect on the things I’ve done wrong.  Not because I ever want the X back, but in order to ensure I try to avoid the mistakes.  I ask myself the question – how did we go from soulmates to living our own lives in the short space of 5 years?  Was it only the constant partying of the X, which brought about the sulky, sullen wife (me), that didn’t want to go out and party every night?  In the beginning we used to go out almost every night, so somewhere I changed.  Maybe I “sold” the wrong image of me to start out with.  I’m not a party-girl, like to go home during week-nights and spend time there.  Week-ends are a different story, but I still don’t want to party the whole week-end.  And that is what we frequently did, to the extent that I became so tired that week-days I would go to bed earlier and earlier.

Sullen, sulky, moody and disrespectful were the attributes that most accurately described me the last year of my marriage.  And I hated myself for it, not the way I am or want to be.  A spiral that just went out of control, the moodier I was, the more X drank and partied, the more he partied, the more debliksem in I got.  If I spoke up, it resulted in a fight, with me getting the blame, so I started to not speak about the problem.  When I did speak, I could hardly contain my anger and it resulted in disrespectful things (from my side) being said.  More and more often, this would happen with other people present.  His words when he was drunk also became more and more abusive towards me.  A downward spiral spinning out of control.

So on 5th Jan 2017 everything changed for me, I became single for the 1st time in 25 years.  Today as I look back it was the best thing that has happened to me in my adult life.  I learned more about myself in a year than in the previous 25 years put together.  Met the man I see forever with in the latter part of 2017 and love him more with every day that pass.  Yes it was hard (and sometimes still is), but this year for the 1st time in a long time, I have hope for a better future.

It is indeed true that sometimes you have to die first before you really learn to live.

My lessons:

Lesson1 – Be yourself from day 1, don’t over-promise, rather under-promise and over-deliver

Lesson2 – Speak about a problem before it becomes a major issue resulting in a blow-up

Lesson3 – Seek help when you can’t see a way out, before the only way out is “out”

Blind, is my oë dan blind Blind, is my eyes then blind
Dit wat ek hoop in myself, kon ek nêrens vind For what I hoped for in myself, I could nowhere find
Lees, in ‘n hart wat breek Read, in a heart that breaks
Is dit wat ek wys, wat ek werklik wil wees? Is that what I present, what I really want to be?
Breek my hart oop, laat dit reën Break my heart open, let it rain
Soms moet mens eers sterf om werklik te kan leef Sometimes a person has to first die to really live
Strooi my vrees dan oor die see Cast my fear then over the ocean
Laat die wind my neem, laat die wind my neem Let the wind take me, let the wind take me
Soms wil ek net loop Sometimes I want to go
Waar die velde in my groen is, die lig vol hoop Where the fields are green and the light full of hope
Maar om die droogte, in die oë te kyk But to face the drought
Oh, leer my die kuns om te staan deur tyd Oh teach me the art to persist through time
Deel van my sal kyk Part of me will look
En dit wat ek sien en vergeet, dit vergaan in tyd And what I see and forget will perish with time
En dan kom die stilte, wat my deurgaans volg And then the calmness comes, that always follow me
Dit wat my terughou, sal ek moet agterlos The things that hold me back, I need to leave behind