As I have mentioned before, I am a late bloomer. Driving was no exception. I mentioned before I only decided (no that is a lie) I never decided. I had no issues I would phone Gary, we lived in 7th Avenue and he worked in Pinetown. I would phone him when there was one really minute cloud that could have been contemplating whether it should become big enough to cause some shade. I would phone and bleet “I think its going to rain, could you come fetch me and take me to the clinic Ryan needs to be weighed?” Remember those days with your first born. There was no way in hell you would skip clinic – you had to know if he had increased his weight in the past week.
Getting back to the weather, this weather watching trend goes back even further. When I worked at McCann in Musgrave Centre. I had a little Vespa. I would spend from lunch time each afternoon (I kid you not, each afternoon) asking Maureen who at the time was my boss and today is one of my dearest and bestest friends ever. So, I would amble “casually” into her office and ask “Mausie, do you think its gonna rain?” and once again Dizabeth digressed. So, Gary would tear across the whole of Durban to take his beloved to clinic. Then he would have to sit there whilst she tried to sidle up and make new friends. (Which she did, Nikki Matheson my clinic mama hello my dearest friend). Sometimes weighing in time could take a couple of hours. So eventually Gary said enough! You have to get your license. In fact, Gary didn’t say anything to me he clearly did to his dad – so Hen booked and paid for the lessons. That way he was clever I couldn’t back out. The first time I tried to get my license, the day before Gary and I went for a practice run. The bridge that runs through/under Greyville racecourse. It is a way one road – a stop and go: – “no you go – no you go” as you do major sign language to your fellow driver ….you get the idea? And so, I was approaching it as was another car on the other side. In fact, that car had commenced and didn’t I firmly place my foot on the petrol instead of the brake. I bet that driver is still seeking therapy. Needless to say, the next day I failed. I remember so well, shucks I didn’t even get out onto the road! I was doing my parallel parking and hill start – yip – you guessed – the hill start. Capital F for big fat FAIL. And I remember I had such an attitude too. Poor instructor and the worst was seeing Gary’s face that evening. It was one of those frikken “I told you so” faces.
My first ever out the box car – it was bought to incentivise me I am damn sure!
The first car I ever got stood in our parking bay for many months. I don’t know why it did? It probably was an incentive. Thinking back, I don’t even recall what Gary drove. We were newlyweds so certainly couldn’t afford two car payments? So, Gary bought me a white FOX Trippa. I recall the first time I sneaked it out. I was doing lessons and myself and Nikki – yip we were best buddies by now. They lived across the road from so we were inseparable. We would sneak the car to the shops. My word the first time I sneaked it out, I remember how horrified Nikki was. I drove to the SPAR in Avondale road. In fact I drove so slowly we could have frikken strolled our slowest pace and we would still have gotten to the SPAR quicker. I drove so, so slowly and parked about a block away – there weren’t any wide open parking bays near the entrance so yip I parked so far we may as well have left the blady car at home and walked. Then the guilt – I was so worried Gary would notice that the car wasn’t in the same position it had been before we ventured out. When I finally did get my license and was a legit driver we would go everywhere – the beach, botanic gardens, Sutton park swimming pool – no more walking for these two mama bears (now if that particular sentence was’nt stating the obvious, that dearest Dizabeth is the whole point of having a car – it takes you everywhere!) The one day in particular I pulled up outside Nikki’s house. We unpacked her pram, her baby bag, the beach bag, all her goodies and we were engrossed in chatting (as if we hadn’t just spent the whole morning together!) her little two year old Luke kept calling to us, we carried on and on nattering – until he frikken pricked up a brick (God alone knows how he had the strength probably because he was so irritated) anyhow he threw the brick at the car. Well dear readers that quickly put pay to our nattering.
Remember how situations such as that one could either strengthen or break the friendship? When your kid or your friend’s kid bite and that very fine line that develops between the two moms. Eish sensitive indeed.
Getting back to the Jalopies the Robbertze family drove. NO actually before we venture into that tale let me tell you about my Vespa’s. So all my friends had cars (they had gotten their licenses as soon as they frikken learnt to read!) and yours truly, in fact, I must be kind to myself, it was a combination of not affording a car and not being determined. So I bought a second hand little yellow Vespa.
My cute first little Vespa, second one was red.
This was when I used to work with Charmaine in the video shop and would pretend that I didn’t recognize Mr Bradfield my old teacher, whom as you will recall I had a very heavy crush on! I would zoom everywhere on that little bike, it was really sweet. However, I remember very clearly the day I had an accident. Yip dear reader I had an accident – all on my own. No one else was involved, besides the dear family who were enjoying a casual Sunday afternoon braai when Dizabeth came zooming along, skidded on the sand, yes you read correctly, nothing too dramatic – she skidded on the sand and voops off she fell. I remember I had on my precious Ladi Di courts. My word it must have been a sight to see. Yikes lucky I wasn’t at the braai – I am the world’s worst – don’t ever fall in front of me – I swear I laugh – I know it terrible trait but I do – I cackle like a frikken drake! So this casual Sunday the whole family came running to my aid. Those were the days without cell phones, so they phoned my dad who came to fetch me. I actually don’t think there was any damage to the bike, none the less dad came, there wasn’t much damage to me either besides a scrapped knee or two and a hugely bruised ego. When my dad answered I was a brave soldier until I heard his voice and being a typical girl (a very embarrassed one nogal) I started crying. Well, when he arrived I remember him lecturing me all the way home. “My girlie I cannot take this God damn aggravation, this God damn bike has got to go” blah blah blah on and on he went. The bike never went and I ensured I never slipped on sand again. Or met myself or anyone by accident.
When I started at McCann I bought my second little little Vespa, Belinda and I lived on the beachfront. We had the most gorgeous little flat, it was perfect for our needs and in the perfect location. It only had one fault- it faced into town – not the sea. (Major bummer). Anyhow, so as I was starting at McCann which is in Musgrave Centre I bought a little Vespa. Belinda on the other hand, her folks had bought her an old Peugoet it was a mustardy yellow and it was named Batman. We were always in Batman (well when I wasn’t on my Vespa). Anyhow, so the first morning I am scootering off to McCann, Belinda comes downstairs with me, she must have been seeing me off? I got settled, slung my bag across my chest, put the helmet on together with my precious office attire and off I go. Through the morning traffic zipping in and out, up and down hills, stopping at stop streets, choffing along till I reached my destination – Musgrave Centre. I parked my Vespa neatened my outfit checked and rechecked I looked fine and caught the lift up to the 11th floor – my first day about to commence. As I walked into reception Aneesha the receptionist greeted me with my first phone message “ Belinda phoned, she is locked out the flat, you drove off with the front door keys.” That was the start of my first day! On my little Vespa I had to get and travel all the way back to let Belinda in! Lovely first day impression. It had a little basket in the front, I recall my birthday I received quite a few beautiful bouquets of flowers, what a sight I must have looked driving home with all these flowers in the basket. Tracy (the friend who drove over my foot ) used to work with me, she would wait outside Musgrave Centre for her hubby to fetch her. Each time I whizzed past her she would casually look the other way so she did not have to acknowledge that she knew me! I remember my other friend Tracy, her boyfriend was quite a mamba with cars/bikes he very kindly offered to – actually I don’t recall what he did but after that it had more power. The problem with the Vespa is it doesn’t have gears so you are not able to gear up or down and at times this can be a problem. I do recall when it went for a service. The next morning as I traversed my usual route, along Musgrave road she started sputtering and finally came to a dead stop. A kind, early morning traffic person clearly saw my situation and stopped to assist. After failing to restart the bike we left it (in those days you could and when you got back – sure enough it would still be there – amazing hey!) so of course Dizabeth gets to work and phones the company who serviced it. I do believe even the creative department which was right at the other end of the corridor could hear as Dizabeth gave the service department a piece of her mind. They apologized profusely promising to collect it – fix whatever had gone wrong and deliver it to me at the office by the end of the day. Early that afternoon I received a call from them. My bike was all good and they wouldn’t actually be delivering it as agreed, I could in fact collect it. Of course, I was extremely indignant at this change of plans and voiced my feelings. To which they replied. “Erm the bike. It needs petrol to be able to go.” Yip Life with Dizabeth!
A very, very fond memory of my little Vespa, at this time I was living by myself, I had a very dishy, very, very dishy neighbour. He was Italian, Giovanni. I recall the first time we met, he literally did the “please do you have a cup of sugar to loan me” line. We became very good friends. No, I truly, truly promise you, we were always and only friends. I recall the one night him and I going through my wardrobe. He said that my clothes did nothing for me, so we went through the whole wardrobe tossing out the bag lady clothes. He was a real honey. When I met Gary, Giovanni and I would go out together pub crawling and so I obviously invited Gary along. I went to the loo only to get back and notice Giovanni wasn’t around. He apparently had asked Gary if he was serious about me – and the rest dear readers as they say is history. Oh my gosh, okay so that was a huge digress! The whole point of bringing Giovanni up, I remember a very special morning, I went down to zoom off to work and there in my Vespa’s basket was a little handpicked bunch of flowers. Sweet hey. I thought so and that day and everyday thereafter there was always flowers in the basket that is until he realised I was serious about Gary (or was it that Gary was serious about me?)
My little yellow Vespa even moved on with me when I got married, heck Gary even took her for a spin or two.
Gary and I, through our married life, have had some real flippen duds car wise. In fact, thinking back, remember me mentioning my dad’s Blue Ford Granada, and how it would not start (I swear it did it purposely just to get him riled up : “I can’t take this God damn aggravation he would bellow. – so in fact way before Gary and our dud cars, there was my dad’s) It is for this reason that Gary now always only purchases new “out the box” cars. As in my frikken Suzuki Swift that was such an unusual colour that I “had” to have – until I stopped at the robot and alongside me were three other cars with the same “unususal” colour as me!! (sigh sigh – so much for my orginality). Anyhow, we had Big Blue. We bought her in Durban just before we moved to Nelspruit. What a disaster she was! I swear not once but hell, I think if I recall – four frikken times – yip FOUR FRIKKEN times a part of her fell off as we were driving. Then there was the night we sat in her as she/we sailed through the night sky, all four of us enjoying the view as we drove through the Sabie forests. Even Gary could sit back, literally, sit back and enjoy the ride. Why, because the blady car had lost another part and we were on the back of a gigantic I mean frikken Mad Max truck. A HUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGEEEEE truck similar to the ones you always see the baddies driving in American movies. Then there was the time we were having an amazing day in Kruger, when we heard a bag clang and somehow, we all knew it wasn’t the roar of a lion, the trumpeting of an elephant or the barking of a wild dog. Nope! It was a part falling off Big Blue once again. The worst ever with her though was when we were driving to Durban, we had already had an issue at Pongola so were now huigely delayed asndriving in the dark when there was the literally the most horrendous sound, we were on the freeway, Big Blue lost control and swerved this way and that before coming to a grinding halt. The frikken propshaft had fallen off. On the freeway nogal. That day, and many, many more I am convinced we have had angels protecting us. I swear only those of you that have had a Big Blue dud of a car can know that pit of the stomach feeling when your car breaks down. Oh my word isn’t it the worst? Poor old Chad has had his fair share of dud cars – his first two – yip – not one but two dud cars! We bought him the most adorable Beetle, she was red and white and truly so, so cute, but always breaking down, and you know when a car keeps breaking down – you get over seeing what a cute car she was – as the frikken dollar signs ching chinged each time the “blady car” goes on the fritz! After her we bought (actually it is a hellish long and very, very, truly hugely, sad story) we got conned into swopping her for a blady dud UNO. You all remember the tale of the empty nester Dizabeth? You will recall how Chad and I sang our way to Stellenbosch and Gary followed in yip the dud UNO. Each time we stopped along the way we would all hold our breath as Gary battled to start the old girl again. There were plenty moments along the way I was already imagining the three of us traveling in the one car to Stellenbosch. She got there – but soon after it was time to off load her and we bought Chad his first “out the box” car.
The very special part of Big Blue was she got us to Nelspruit. Gary and I drove in convo with all our worldly possessions, the kids, the animals in both cars. Gary (and Big Blue) had Stinks the Lab, Alfie, and Thumper – oh and he had Chad. Ryan and I had the cat (Smudge) who meowed in the most high pitched almost Witch like call the whole way. We were eventually talking above her high-pitched meowing. Until I asked Ryan if he heard “that”? “What he replied – hear what?” ….and that was when we both realized there was nothing to hear, Smudge had finally stopped meowing. We also had the two birds, Roxy the African grey parrot and Cheeky bum the Sun Conure. And you never gonna believe this but swear its true, they both got out their cages so we literally each had one on our heads for the duration of the journey. I cherished my String of Pearls pot plant, I had nurtured it for frikken years. Stinks was a big fatty and with one swoop of his big ass – he sat on it – that was the end of my String of Pearls. Talking Stinks, that was amazing. We never had a pool in our Durban home. We arrived at our new Nelspruit home, let the animals, kids, plants, bunnies and all out the car. Stinks, never having been or seen our new house before, walked straight through the house out the garden and plonked himself in the pool. It truly was amazing how he knew there was a pool.
And we still need to fit the kids and animals in !!!
And that dear readers is the end of the road and the tale of our family and our dud Jalopies.
May the rest of the week be a wonderful ride for you all. Never forget I treasure you all and thank you gazillions for continuously being passionate about all to do with Life with Dizabath.
Stay well, healthy and be blessed.