Life with Dizabeth

Whilst driving last week I passed a SAB truck it had that big ad – REGRET nothing – don’t drink and drive. So that got me thinking about what I could chat about this week. Now if I am honest, I am clueless as to why the heck I feel this is a chatty subject. I am already stumped – so what is there to regret Dizabeth? What disappointments do I have? I would be lying emphatically to say none. I do.

Obviously, a few that spring to mind: I never became an influencer. My Musgrave advertorial stayed exactly that, a blady advertorial right there at the Daily News in Durban and never grew into New York or Milan. It in fact is a faded yellowed page in my photo album. Sigh Sigh. Ah mind you I have never thrown a tantrum in the bank – I guess it isn’t too late – that could still happen. Hm as you are aware Chad was leaving this Wednesday to begin his exciting American chapter in his book of life – thanks to the blady Omicron variant that has given Delta a shove in the proverbial this dream is now on ice. However since he is currently with us (yip you are so right we have one super, uber delighted mama bear) digressing again Dizabeth so as I was saying since it is put on ice and we in the Lowveld – I am very confident with our heat the ice will soon melt and he will be on his way and then dear reader, and then this influencer and soon to be nana model could visit him and throw a tantrum in a bank in Florida (this is where he will be based). I know right! Brilliant idea. Just like that, I would be both an influencer and hm don’t know so much about the model bit. Unless of course it was a dinosaur shoot. That could work! Or now I am thinking, you will recall when Ryan was younger (Blog 15: “Things my boys said I want to remember forever”) when I laughed and he said “Mom when you laugh you get such stripes on your face” – so, I could become an aging Zebra perhaps a representative of Zebras sure, they not on the endangered list but I could become their “influencer” so they never land up on that list! Now there’s a thought – how’s that for an influencer?

Other things I don’t regret – now I can’t say I don’t regret as that’s a huge blady fib I would have gladly married a rich man – yes you read correctly I love Gary to bits – but sjoe imagine if I could have married a really rich guy – and I could have had a flat – ah wait a minute – I mean an apartment in New York. Hell man – Trevor Noah could have been my neighbour both of us fellow Saffers in the New York hood! We could have a barbecue together yip we would live in the penthouse so we would be able to “braai” and we could sing “New York New York, start spreading the news I’m leaving today…” ol blue eyed Frankie could be booming from our boom box. Actually, I would probably resemble Liza Minelli as she is today and Trevor – well Trevor would be as he is right now. Ok, yip time to snap my fingers and realise I am not Dorothy and this is not Ozzywood so back to reality – me sitting on my boiling verandah listening to the hadedas screeching and swotting the trillionth fly. Yesterday we had another amazing day in Kruger. I mean that alone, who sees lions, leopards, Rafes (as Tide says) ellies and all the other incredible residents of Kruger as often as I (we) do?  Ok, yes, I admit I am waffling now and its actually trivial what I am writing about, and I know, I know you have places to be and people to see beside reading my blog so let me get on with the subject at hand.

Regrets – as ol Frankie blue eyes sang – Regrets I have a few but then again too few to mention. (Intro big band – saxophone, trumpets, piano …the whole shebang!)

A regret of mine – when I was young and restless – kidding – since I am going with the whole naming of songs – and talking about Trevor and Frankie thought I would go with a series or was it a movie title? Anyhow you get the whole idea, I am sure. So, when I was young all I really wanted to do – no, no not when I was that young, as you know when I was “that” young Charmaine and I loved playing Barbie – what I am saying though is that I wish when I was at school I had had the foresight to see myself as I am now. No, NO! dear reader not as a haggard old woman! I wish I had had the foresight to see my future. Don’t get me wrong, I have loved how my “career” has played out – however if I could do it all again now – I would study and obtain a degree! A degree is a ticket opening me up to the world and I would have become a teacher. No, I don’t think a high school teacher – frikken hell I would have been in tears every day! Nope, the little ones – I love how they are so enthusiastic, energized, innocent and just in absolute awe of the world around them. When they get to those teen years, they tend to believe they are well learned and way, way more knowledgeable than us elders. (Yip I also thought I was quite a hip hop and happening dancing queen when I was young – shucks Trish can testify to me getting kicked out of class more than once) and the thing is looking back I am not proud in fact I am not ashamed either. It is what it is but darn I wish I hadn’t thought I was so clever chirping back to the teacher. I wish I had knuckled down and achieved good grades. (I am damn sure the teachers wouldn’t have developed a fondness of alcoholic beverages each evening if I had just behaved.) Mind you: I do have a degree – a degree in Life – Life and its lessons for that I am forever grateful, and I treasure the lessons I have been taught thus far.

Decisions: Interesting the decisions we make when we young (and restless 😊) and decisions we make now. When I was younger Alex and I packed up and moved to Cape Town – Camps Bay to be precise. We didn’t think it through we just did it (Like Nike!) She, being the hotty she was (and still is) she found a boyfriend and would spend the majority of her time at his place, it was a Cape winter and I was actually her blady dog sitter at the end of the day – beside the dogs it was a hermit existence. My biggest regret – there you go – here’s one! I didn’t drive (I know! Crazy hey – it really wasn’t an issue to me to get my license right then, thank goodness for Gary and his dad) so I was stuck at home each night and soon enough, withstanding each morning in the driving rain and in frikken darkness at 7am waiting for the bus I decided that’s it – I am calling it quits! I caught the midnight plane (no, no not the midnight train going anywhere – Journey) and came home. That was also a major turn in my life. My folks had in the meantime (frikken clever they took the gap – sold their house and moved to a smaller flat) so when I arrived back home, I was forced to put on my big girl panties and find my own place that I called home. Actually, Dizabeth just pondering now, I am sure at some stage I would have made the decision to move out of home. Flippen hell can you imagine me there still now – well problem one – they not alive anymore so, yip – secondly can you see me this old “dinosaur” still asking permission to use the phone or sneaking home at 3am when I was supposed to be home at 12. Nah – in retrospect the decisions I made – they weren’t that bad – and regrets – yip I do have a few!!! In fact I have nooooo idea why I ever did this, but the following two tale are my hugest regrets.

 When I was growing up sjoe my mom was strict! As I have mentioned before I thank her for that though. She made me the woman I am today. I know right! No comments thank you very much dear reader! So Dizabeth – digressing again! She would test me ok. Two things I will never forget as I learnt them parrot fashion. “The spinning Jenny was” and “osmosis is the process whereby water molecules move from ……” no no dear readers I purposely didn’t finish the sentences. This is your fun fact time, can you complete these handy history and bio facts?

Multi-Spindle Spinning Frame

The spinning jenny is a multi-spindle spinning frame and was one of the key developments in the industrialization of textile manufacturing during the early Industrial Revolution. It was invented in 1764 or 1765 by James Hargreaves in Stanhill, Oswaldtwistle, Lancashire in England.

Spinning Jenny

Right lessons over back to the “subject” at hand. So, I would be in my room learning (probably was doing everything but shucks imagine if it was today with Facebook and Instagram I would be buggered!) anyhow my mom would bellow “Elizabeth time to be tested” I would go through she would be in her favourite chair in her sunny reading room reading about “Ghosts and ghouls and gods that go clickerty clack (Blog 5 – Those were the days my friend) I can remember shucks I would get so, so nervous – guess because I knew what was coming! So she would test me – and yip you guessed I would get the dates mixed up and would refer to it as the Spinning Penny …or something such – she would start with steam spewing out of her ears – and very, very patiently (not!) ask me to tell her again when the Spinning Jenny was invented …blah blah blah – I would again mess up – and this dear reader is what I regret so blady much !! She would throw my book at me and hiss at me to go and learn it again and “don’t come back until you know it!” – and guess who did this to her boys when they were studying. I know right! WTF! I detested my mom doing it to me and I did it to the boys. Now that dear readers has to be my biggest regret!!!! Oh, wait another one has jumped into my thoughts – I never read bedtime stories to the boys, I was always too blady busy pouring another glass of wine. But, But….BUT here’s the best about these regrets, the boys don’t remember books being thrown at them. And beside the fact of books flying across the room like a missile destined to bomb them they apparently don’t remember not being read to either!!! (Well, so they say – hmmmmm perhaps they just trying to placate mama bear – Hmm I hope it has never scarred them) one thing – when Tide and all future grandkids are in my house and on my watch – I will NEVER allow books to be chucked across any rooms and I WILL ensure I read them bedtime stories.

Duck! Book in flight

And that dear reader is us for this week. I am pondering as I sit in the heat with the gazillionth fly buzzing irritatingly around me – another decision – perhaps I should invent a hat – never mind the Auzzy one with the corks mine will flippen shock them as they settle on the blady hat itself!! Is that a bit too hectic? I see you reaching for your phone as you dial Greenpeace!

Till next week, stay well, healthy and take care of yourselves out there.

And ALWAYS be kind to yourself.

Quoting Tam – “That’s all she wrote.”

Mwah Mwah

FUN FACT: “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” ― William Shakespeare.

Last week I discussed how for some its written in “their” stars, “they” born ordinary when in fact “they” not. I was going to say we all born ordinary when we not. Names that spring to mind that most certainly were not born ordinary: George, Charlotte, Louis, Archie and Lilibet. Hm these names seeming familiar? Yip they all have the same surname! Mind you names – there’s another interesting subject. Why are we named the names we are named? I was born Elizabeth (Royalty as you all aware 😊) I was only ever called Elizabeth when in trouble – why name your child that name when you only going to use it in anger? Right? Right? You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth (Harry springs to mind) ok your wife wasn’t – and let’s face it – it is generally the woman who chooses the baby’s name (or the mothers’ friends in my case). Yes, I named Ryan but Chad well he was Megan (no man don’t get confused here not Markle! It was way before her) I knew (ok, ok I never knew a fortune teller told me yeah look how right she was!! That I would have a girl). So now Charmaine and I were chatting about Megan and Charmaine being Charmaine – in her ever so logical way casually asked – “what if it’s a boy?” Well of course I knew it wasn’t a boy – it was Megan – the fortune teller after all had said as much! Charmaine was persistent (thank goodness) “but what if it’s a boy?”. “I have no idea” I answered belligerently (yip I was irritated how could she question the blady fortune teller man!?) that was when she said “What about Chad?” it obviously played on my mind (in a good way😊 obviously) I asked Gary that night – “What do you think of Chad?” now you will recall this was many years ago – so Gary certainly knew I wasn’t talking about Chad Le Clos. He in fact wracked his brain, remember I was very pregnant and very hormonal, so he certainly didn’t want to upset the hornets’ nest that was his wife. He was very sure he never knew of any Chad, so what was his wife on about?

What he did say that night – “Hmm I don’t know babe – Shad and all”.

Race forward twenty-four years and as you all know our youngest son’s name is in fact: Chad.

When we bring up names Chad teasingly says, “You never named me – Charmaine did.” I guess he is right. So, a huge thank you to my dearest, dearest and truly loved friend. Thank you, Charmaine.

My dearest mom – She used to style herself on Liz Taylor. Or…. did Liz Taylor style herself on my mom 😊😊😊

My mom apparently was besotted with Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton – hence my name. Now, my dearest, amazing, in fact the bestest sister in the world – truly the most amazing lady – her name is Karen – I have always loved her name – yet she will always say she is Karin. I think Karen is so pretty and unusual – truly love it my sis! And how did my mom name her Karen? Apparently, the story goes (legend has it hahahahahaha) she was reading a book and the character she admired was named Karen. Perhaps if my mom had known she could have called me Elizabeth SUE Ellis – you will recall how my neighbour  would bellow across the wall – “Sue there is a storm coming – Sue do you have sugar – Sue……” (Blog ) and Dizabeth – Goodness knows why but always just responding with a “yip” instead of from day one saying: “It’s actually Liz/Dizzy/Dizabeth/Elizabeth/Babe/mom and not Sue!”

How do names come about and how the heck did Harry and Megan name their son Archie? I can only imagine her being American she loved her fair share of comics as a child “Archie” comic – remember there was Veronica, Jughead, Betty – hmm who was Veronica’s boyfriend? Ronnie, wasn’t it?

Those where the days – I Used to love reading my comics.

 Anyhow so yip that’s all I can imagine, as truly for me – Archie. A big no from me! Not that my vote will ever count – hmmmm although mind you being an Elizabeth – maybe (Royal name dear reader – Royal name😊)! Although saying that – isn’t it Dizabeth now anyhow? 😊. We recently adopted our delightful little Rosie. Now Rosie wasn’t always Rosie. She was Tatiana. I know right? Who the hell names the cutest dog on earth Tatiana after some Russian pole dancer? Anyhow, the reason I am mentioning this friends were “seriously, you changed her name – why would you do that?” – well I do believe it speaks for itself, unless she and I were a Pole dancing act at some sleaze club or we both belonged to the traveling circus, its Rosie. The interesting fact here too – language. The Lowveld is 99% Afrikaans – in fact when you hear an English speaker you do (well I do!) take a step back. Its very exciting (well for me anyhow). So, the other night we had friend’s round. When she arrived at our gate (my friend) she spoke in Afrikaans to Rosie who was on gate duty. Rosie didn’t bark – and seemed to understand what she was saying. Rosie was originally from Lydenburg – so without a doubt I will bet you, and I will win she came from an Afrikaans family. That again – what an adjustment. Imagine: Moving into Dizabeth’s house – that alone is YIKES!!! Then your name is changed and they frikken speak a foreign language (English)! Poor kid – hmm I reckon she needs an extra treat for sure this week.

I am very, very into nicknames (pet names) – for me it’s a term of endearment  – before you know it you, sure as nuts forget any Dizabeth has a nickname for you.  Nicky aka Niknak – Kim aka Kimble – Lis – am clueless where this one arose from Poepsie Whoepsie – Michelle aka Blondie and the list goes on and on.

The interesting fact is both Gary and the boys have names that cannot be shortened. Chad – I recall with such fondness – we would call him “Chaddy boy” – oh my word – he would implode with anger “I am NOT Chaddy Boy I am CHAD!” Mind you, when I was younger, in fact when I worked at McCann my colleagues used to call me Lizzy – it drove me nuts! Yet again I never did say anything. Now in my laid back older and wiser years – I am not at all phased – you can call me Lizzy I don’t have a sark in the world with it! But don’t pour a second glass of wine and omit to call Dizabeth for a refill.

My incredible – the best sister in the world and me!

However, though Ryan now this is my pet hate. Everyone does it, so I should just stash this pet hate in a big black hole – or smile and wave – there you go Dizabeth – 2 – not 1 – 2 choices 😊!  His name is pronounced Ryan – as in WINE! However, people always say “Ry-an” …… now this tends to get mama bear close to imploding (hmmm not guessing where Chad got it from) Gary another one – to nick name him you tend to extend it – his friends call him Garo. Me, it all depends on the time of day, the mood I am in and if it is in my favour or not as to how I address him 😊. Our precious little grandson, the light of my life. “Hide Nan Hide!” Ryan and Michelle named him Tide. When we were awaiting his arrival I was like “hmmmm – not too sure on this one and…. you are obviously spelling it T-Y-D-E …. To which his mama and papa replied “Nope T-I-D-E …..” straight away in the quiet (ahhh not ever Dizabeth – you a quiet mind?? Phst!) I heard “the tide is high but I’m moving on” by Blondie. (yip how is that for a blast from the past!) and now the tide has been high and I have moved on and there would be no other name for our precious little chap but TIDE. He is most certainly a Tide and he rocks his name.

My sister has always been there – as you can see from day dot – helping me on all my roads – bumpy and smooth!

One thing I do feel is imperative, when meeting or addressing a person. Whether it be in the work sphere or if you are befriending a new friend get their blady spelling of their name correct. This to me shows hmmm actually cannot think right now what it shows – but yikes it is on a par with calling Ryan Ry-an! Recently I was super, super irritated with my own blady self! I sent a mail and only once it had been delivered did I notice –  dum – dum – dum (intro very, very hectic dramatic background music!) Ok in all fairness – yip it was my fault – but why the heck do woman (or men) do this??? Their name is a gewone name – and they spell it differently to the usual spelling ie: Melissa – spelt MeLLissa … WTF! What about when it is a “unisex” name – Corne – I will never forget a work colleague being over the moon as she saw the new team member was a male. Now, living in the Lowveld I didn’t assume it was a male as I had two female friends – named Corne. Again, they to me are Corns, Corndog or Mealie 😊😊😊 I know! I know and she gets peeved when you call Ryan Ry-an! No comment dear reader – no frikken comment! What about when it’s – Sarah-Jane and you call her SJ –  also, dear reader a tricky one – as her mom named her Sarah-Jane for many precious reasons – not SJ – not Se Se – not Jane ….but Sarah-Jane! And yours truly – hmmm actually now that I think about it, I do call her Sarah-Jane 😊.

Our precious little Rosie who looks NOTHING like a blady Russian Pole Dancer I am sure you agree?

What about when you in a shopping mall and you are 90% sure it’s “so and so” but that blady mask – you are definitely 10% doubting yourself. So, what Dizabeth does – she casually will call out “Sarah-Jane” and see if the “Sarah-Jane” reacts. (Hey now that you know my trick – don’t diss me hey!! If I do it to you – respond) Shucks I remember when my sister and I were way younger. You know how embarrassed you got at the stupidest thing! We were in the CNA there was a woman standing at the magazine rack – reading through a magazine. Yikes remember how people used to do that too! Frikken have no issue with reading a whole magazine! In fact, that was in the good ol’ days when there were still magazines – and in fact – also CNA’s to be able to read and visit the stores! So there Karen and I were, and she asked, “Isn’t that Terri?” I didn’t even really look if I am honest and answered “Yip – it’s her” – Karen even questioned me again “Are you sure its her?” – “Yip it’s her” I replied nonchalantly without batting an eye lid or even looking in the general direction of “Terri”. Next thing Karen is slinking away from me towards “Terri” when she was right behind and literally on top of “Terri” she said itin a gruff voice: “and what are you doing here?” to which this complete stranger turned around and asked Karen what the heck she thought she was doing. Well dear reader I couldn’t breathe I laughed so, so, sooooo much! And Karen, well she never did that to anyone ever again.

Getting back to pets – and pet names – No, no I am meaning actual Furry family here dear reader. We still have -ah she is albeit – hellish old now – the cutest little princess ever. She is a long-haired cat – she is amazing – in her life she has caught and killed Spitting Cobras – she has really played the part of GI Jane incredibly. Gary always says he has no idea why I named her what I did. I thought it was unique and so named her Fraidy-Cat. When she was younger and us being in the Lowveld the day I collected her from the vet – she had been spayed. The receptionist mentioned the vet would like a word with me. Obviously anticipating the absolute worst, I waited with bated breath. The vet came out and kind of looked me up and down – probably was surprised to see I wasn’t blonde as he began :- “Mrs. Robbertze, you do realise that your cat – she is a female?” – “erm yes I replied” dumbfounded “that is why I booked her in to be SPAYED and not neutered” – the vet totally disregarded this comment and continued to ask me “Then why is she named FREDDY – Cat?” – I have no words dear reader – none whatsoever in this case.

Gary has a dear, dear school friend – they met if I remember correctly, I think it was in about Grade 2. His surname is Luck. He met and married a lovely lady with the surname Kindness. They own a travel business (I think it is a travel business) and yip they named it Luck & Kindness. Isn’t that just the most beautiful, true life what’s in a name story – I think it is. Truly delightful hey 😊.

And that dear reader is us for the week. Quoting Tam from The Block “That’s all she wrote”.

Take care, stay safe and thanks for the love, the enthusiasm and encouragement. Each week my heart is filled to the brim with JOY. Thank you.

Till next week be kind to yourself.

Mwah Mwah

WOW!!! We on our 20^th blog!

A huge thank you to you dearest, dearest reader. I cannot begin to share with you how very, very, very much I appreciate your enthusiasm, encouragement, support, care and love each week. I often receive some amazing comments of thanks, encouragement and absolute pure joy and love. Not to mention those that I have seen face to face, some of you I was not even aware read my blog – and you relate little odds n bits I have spoken (written) about. Thank you 😊. Honest to goodness my heart is so, so full – this has been a dream of mine, shucks forever! I remember at school loving essay time. I do however remember the one essay I got way, waaaaaay too involved and oh my word the characters were frikken morphing into each other – those that were dead – were suddenly alive. And remember dear reader this was late 70’s early 80’s so there were no Men in black or The Walking Dead – okay there was Back to the Future and Star Trek! There definitely was no Netflix, Hulu, Showmax and and and. So, it was just this young girl’s imagination – frikken hell! I got way too confused as did the teacher. Ok being a bit harsh on myself now as it was only that one essay. But then there was the time (I have shared this before, I know) I wrote an Afrikaans essay – about the beach. The teacher marked me a zero! Why? I had written word, for frikken word the plot of the movie Jaws. Next to my big fat zero was the comment: “Ek het die fliek ook gesien”. I mean really Dizabeth -what were you thinking – it was blady Jaws – Nick Nolte for goodness sake, who hadn’t seen the movie? So already digressing, the reason I am mentioning all this the days before my blog. I wrote about this and that. Entered competitions for short stories waited with bated breath and I did win one or two. I remember with such fondness when I received an email telling me I had won the Reader’s Digest 100-word short story. Gosh in fact I still have the cover of that Readers Digest, a copy of the cheque and my story in print, framed – it fell off the wall and I have never put it back. That nail is now one of many that brag my incredibly amazing two boys (young men’s) achievements, showing them off proudly to all who visit our home (and then there is the Tide wall). As I was saying: I wrote scary stuff, sad stuff, twist at the end (and beginning) stuff and lots of other stuff. When we first moved here each week, I would send a newsletter home (Durban) friends and family loved it. They always commented on the fact that it is as if you are right here chitty chatting with me. That’s when I decided instead of this plot and that “who dun it” – just write from your heart Dizabeth – share your zany life then and now – and you dear readers – have embraced this and are on this journey with me. Thank you. 😊

Right back to the here and now – this week, well in fact this morning I awoke to the – literally the most beautiful what’s app video from my dearest, treasured friend Charmaine. Thank you, it made my day. She shared with me her visit to the beach I assume it was after work – and to see such beauty and I am going to be brutally honest here. To see a “normal beach scene” people and their dogs, cats (not really) and kids – chilling in the early summer season – relaxed – a clean beach – it made me think. Now this blog I have always sworn will never be about politics, religion or whether you have been or are going to get vaccinated – and I intend to keep it that way. But seeing that – I won’t say perfection as I am very sure that beautiful country must have its own highs and lows – but wow it made me reflect on the here and now of Dizabeth’s life. It made me ask a trillion questions  – why the blady hell wasn’t my dad a pilot? Why wasn’t I a blady airhostess? I could have traveled and visited every corner of the blady globe. Why oh, why am I just a frikken plain Jane who lives in a little dorpie – so very, very, frikken blady far from the beach? I know all that smulzy stuff – It’s our destiny, it’s the path that was planned for us, its us who make our own destiny. Well, let me tell you I call bullsh.t to that! I know for sure I wouldn’t have chosen a life with a house that has no air-conditioning when our summer is late 30 early 40! Um I wouldn’t have chosen to wear Mr Price (shucks especially their blady bras) no, no, nothing wrong with Mr P. But really if I could choose Woolies (ok, ok I do have a couple or three Woolies items in my wardrobe) so let’s up this a bit. If I could …hmmm what’s a fancy label? Ok talking off the peg fancy – Forever New is pretty fancy as is Poetry and Queenspark all spring to mind. So, I truly hope I am not sounding bratty here – hmmm Dizabeth perhaps you are – just a wee bit (really am not aiming to sound bratty so forgive me if you feel I am being just a tad bratty). But, dear reader do you get my drift? There are so many beautiful success stories – Elton John and Freddie Mercury. Look at that! Ordinary people that made it big. Absobloodalutely, they worked harder than hard (also partied harder than hard) but what I am saying dear reader. How many are out there – working as hard as Elton and Fred – yet that person who is gonna sign them up – recognize them – another example. Charlize Theron – throwing a tantrum in the bank and whamo an agent sees her! How about that woman earlier this month that wasn’t getting the service she expected at a certain bank? (Yip another bank – hmm note to self – maybe banks are the hip and happening place to get noted?) She striped down – naked – it was captured on video – circulated throughout social media and I have no doubt as I am typing this – an agent is signing her up for a movie deal where she will become a billionaire and dearest Dizabeth will read her rags to riches story in the YOU! Now trust me – I have thrown a number of wobbles in my life. The result: people walk a wide circle around me and totally disregard my tantrum! When Chad is with me, he walks away pretending he has nooooo idea who this dilly woman is!  

How does it happen that the likes of Megan – a normal everyday average young girl – how was it written in her stars – she would commence her life – like me, normal, (hhm define normal I hear you say) marry and even get divorced (not like me) and then – and blady then – frikken meet and marry a prince! She mentioned in the big O interview that before she met Harry – she as an American didn’t know about the Windsor’s nor did she know who Lady Di was! Really? Whilst in the 80’s somewhere in Africa – Southern Africa to be specific there was a young girl – she had a royal name – Elizabeth – that was the beginning and end of her connection with anything Royal. But she idolized Lady Di. She used to wear Lady Di court shoes and even wore a frilly lady Di top to the Durban July – in fact that day she was a definite wanna be Lady Di! She never won at the races that day – nor did any photographer come up to her and her dearest friend Charmaine to take a photo of their (what they thought designer outfits) to appear in the Sunday Tribune the next day! If I had an inlking of an idea that one day Lady Di would have a son who would happily marry out of the “royal circle” – oh my word I would have taken way better care and exercised a stringent skin care routine – resulting in me being as youthful today as I was back in the day – and whamo – Prince Harry would no doubt have married me! But alas, again it wasn’t written in my blady stars!

You look at all the “famous” folk out there these days – “Pleased to meet you – I am so and so and I am an influencer” – what the heck is that? I have been an “influencer” for many years. Back in my youth I influenced Charmaine to play Barbie – I influenced my friends to stop at the local café to buy Wilson’s toffee’s as we walked home from school! I influenced numerous friends to have another glass of wine with me! But you don’t see the camera’s flocking around me – or Carte Blanche lining me up for an interview with this influencer. Nope you frikken do not! All those black hole moments that fell into a big black hole! When I worked in classified department at the Mercury and The Daily News when they had an advertorial – one that springs to mind – Musgrave Centre was doing an advertorial and they asked me to please be their model. Which I did – of course I saw it as that “golden opportunity” – my 15 minutes of fame as Andy Warhol once said – and what happened there? Exactly dear reader – diddly squat! I didn’t even get blady paid! Nope I had to rush back – get dressed back into my outfit for the day and answer those classified phones and type us the “For Sale” style one that the seller wanted to place. Shucks I do recall the one day I had a person call in wanting to sell their car. They read the ad out to me …all was great. Until it was not! They phoned after it had appeared in the papers. It appeared instead of me typing “tinted windows” dearest Dizabeth typed titted windows!

Fun fact: In 1968 Andy Warhol said: “In the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes “. He said this when he had become famous.

I guess in my skies – on a dark night – when I look up at the stars its meant to be that I am who I am. I have a lot to be grateful and for which I am incredibly grateful. Would I want more money and an airconditioned house – hell yes! But I do have a star struck life – I am blessed, and I may just be Liz  – Gary’s NOT subservient wife. Mama Bear Liz   – mom to honestly the most amazing young men ever. Ryan and Chad – I swear they could not make us prouder if they tried – both are so balanced, well liked, popular and darn I am going to say it – very handsome (hm but then again look at who their mama is! – kidding) I am Liz the worker bee from MySchool who handles the Mpumalanga region – I love my job and all those that touch my day everyday and the difference the MySchool program makes in so many lives each day. Liz the friend – the friend who if you have crept into my heart – there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, the friend who likes a good laugh and a glass or two of wine together. A friend who treasures her friends and all the memories we have made together. Lastly, I am Nana – Tide’s nana and I truly, truly hope in his eyes – when him and I play “Hide Nana hide!” when he places his precious little hand in Nana’s big gown pocket and pulls out an array of coloured Smarties – I do hope and I do believe – he sees nana as his shining star. And it’s for all these amazing people I truly, truly hope I am written in their stars and will be a part of their lives and make a difference for years to come. Thank you to each and everyone of you for believing in me and my blog.

And with regards to my topic today : Lets face it …Mama said there would be days like this 😊. In other words “Why me (or not me!) Lord – Why?

And with that – see I have remembered – but it is after all early days. I quote Tam from The Block:

“That’s all she wrote”

Stay safe and healthy my lovelies

Take care

Mwah mwah

First foot note: My title for this week’s blog is a show tune composed by Irving Berlin for the 1946 Broadway musical Annie Get Your Gun. The song is a duet, with one male singer and one female singer attempting to outdo each other in increasingly complex tasks.

Gary and I were browsing one of the many china shops in Nellies. We love the Christmas season, especially me. Not for the reasons that you may be thinking dear reader – not the gifts at all – the whole Christmas spirit – the Christmas vibe – even with temperatures in late 30s early 40’s and Santa’s dressed for the snow whilst we are wearing the least amount of clothing acceptable for Christmas day. (Cozzis and sarongs!)

So it would seem albeit I am so proud of my Santa collection, I don’t (cant find) any photos of them so herewith one of the sketches I drew (copy of the photo pasted next to the sketch)

I (we) have the most amazing collection of Santa’s and so our house, at Christmas is a Christmas delight. (Well, we think so!) Funny the other day Gary and I were pondering as to how much our little collection would be worth. We have spent a fortune through the years, and as morbid as this is going to sound, we were wondering, if we were (well, one day we will) so when we pass away would the boys treasure our Christmas collection as we do? Our Santa collection ranges from my UK trip to many trips to the Santa shop in Dullstroom which has since closed. I remember being in awe of a totally Christmas shop in London aptly called 25^th December. I was in Christmas Heaven the day we ambled quite by chance into that gorgeous shop. Anyhow digressing already, sjoe Dizabeth! So, we were at the Chinese shop and Gary saw a beautiful table centre piece. He fell in love and wanted to buy it right there and then. Now me, I (chatting to myself) was convinced I could do this. Or something similar. So, we took a photo. Gary with the idea of us coming back soon to purchase it and me with the (silently/secret) idea that I would make one. Damn straight Dizabeth – you got this!!Now when I get an idea, I frikken focus on very little beside “that” until whatever “that” is conquered – by conquered I mean I either rocked at it – or failed dismally and will be visiting whatever shop I was hoping to conquer to buy it! The weekend was set aside, and amongst all the plans we already had in place I started and finished my own Christmas table centre. So, my beloved reader once I had completed it (wooden branches, glue, glitter,ribbon, knick knacks from my art room and spray paint under the nails that didn’t break) I casually (second fib – I frikken bounced through to the lounge like a new born Springbok finding its moms teat!) literally bounced through and showed him. Now Gary isn’t the most – I am damn sure I have mentioned this in a previous BLOG. He is soooooo, soooooo, soooo blady meh with things. He is the same when you give him a gift. So, he didn’t comment, he casually looked it over in fact he didn’t look it over, he just had a very quick glance and then continued with his life. I was a bit (hugely) irritated but knowing that he can be this way I ignored it. So you can imagine my ABSOLUTE delight when later in the weekend, he actually frikken actually, well he well and truly, truly admitted to me that he has been “stumped “ by my creation. “Truthfully I was perplexed as to where you were going to find the sticks – it is amazing babe well done”I know right!!! So now you all know exactly why we are currently experiencing such frikken bizarre weather patterns – yip its all thanks to dear old Gary – who in a roundabout way – admitted defeat!!! Hell yes he did! And I am claiming it and all the accolades that were in his face – he usually is so expressionless and this time he wasn’t! Boiya!! Hmm how do the youngsters say that??? Boija? Ah I can hear Chad calling it out …hope you can too dear reader. It’s such an effective word/term. One very, very small, in fact I am whispering this confession. I was really loving the spray paint – and the thing is – I was working on our verandah. I have since noticed the pot plants – my beloved bonsai – they seeming a bit bleak – I first thought ha it’s the heat – we having temps in mid 30’s to early 40’s….so I watered them, then watered them again. Still, they remained bleak and blady limp! Now on reflecting back (not a word dear reader – not a word please!) I think they could have been fogged – fogged is a flippant word actually – think they were” world war two” (another word perhaps : annilated) bombed with the spray gun – if I think about it – I am quite surprise they aren’t white (snow). Now, dear reader – this shall remain between you and I – and Gary – well he never really needs to know how these pot plants died does he?

A sketch & painting thru the years done by Dizabeth

Besides the set back of my dearest Bonsai I am capital P for passionate about this new venture. Yesterday dearest Pam and I walked – oh brag moment here – we frikken walked 8.07km in 1.44 minutes – I know hey! Frikken brilliant – I have to say I truly love these walks. The time literally walks away (good hey – nice pun!!) Step by step we chitty chat our way across the hood. Privileged I am – truly privileged – thank you Pammie 😊 for the weekly Sunday therapy sessions. (No, no just because I am mentioning you it most certainly does not mean you can bill me!) Another digression Dizabeth! Yesterday, ok both Friday and Saturday night we had the most hectic storms in fact I was thinking about it:  these storms are reminiscent of the storms we experienced when we first moved here some fifteen years ago. In fact, as I am typing this – the thunder is boroiling. So back to the Saturday night storm – the wind lashed and lucky for me hoiked up and broke branches off trees – crazy and different seeds were dispersed in the road for Dizabeth to find as she walked the streets of Nellies. So those are all busy drying out before Dizzy lays her hands on that ominous can of spray paint and gives them a new life – that of a Christmas decoration. 😊

Therefore, in conclusion with my table decoration I am going to try and make a little cash dollar by making and selling them. Yikes who knows, this could be the big break for me dear readers. Move over Carol (Boyes) phish I guess we can all dream hey. In fact, if we think about this in reality – once upon a time Carol was a “gewone” (regular) girl – hell so was Ina (Paarman!) Look at me name dropping here and nope I don’t know either of them. 😊

Another frikken digression so there I was on Sunday walking along picking up logs, weedy things that are pretty anything that I could see will be perfectly, prefect for my centre piece. And yes dear reader as you have gathered for those that are in close range (living in the same hood as me) no guessing what your Christmas gift will be! Oh! and by the way – I even got Pammie picking up along the route, she is going to make her own funky Christmas tree! Don’t we frikken rock?

It truly is so rewarding once you have completed whatever it is that you fancy making hey? I get uber chuffed at my creations. Have I told you? When we first moved here – before I became a nine to fiver and joined the working world, I frikken made cushions. I found reams and reams of denim material from God alone knows where -clearly somewhere along the line I planned on making my own skirt – I love those looooong flary ones – I have to say though – looking back – I am damn sure my Housecraft (home economics) teacher would most certainly have agreed with me here – I don’t know what ever possessed me to think I could go so far as to make clothing for myself. Phish that that I have made – oh my word – even the homeless would turn it down – seriously! In matric we made a linen suit – pencil skirt and jacket – now if I recall – well dear reader – on second thoughts I am not going to recall – yes it was that bad! And if, just if I did pass – damn sure it was only because the teacher felt sorry for me – or mind you – a valid point here – perhaps she wasn’t keen on me being in her class the next year if I in fact failed. Remember my recent curtain making episode. Ok so that did turn out way, way more of a success than I anticipated. Those curtains are hanging in my kitchen. But what I did that day – I frikken – YES I REALLY DID MANAGE to do this: I sewed my forefinger. I still have the mark growing out on my nail!!! You don’t even want to know how I got my finger out of that scenario – all I will say – I had to replace the machine’s needle. But quick one back to housecraft lessons at school.   I recall when Charmaine and I made a swiss roll – I know I have mentioned this before too! Ours – it was a jam sandwich at the end of the lesson. Did it taste good at least? Shucks doubt it. We all recall my hiffy attack I threw during lockdown when I got the blady flour stuck to my fingers whilst attempting to bake scones and I literally threw the whole thing across the blady kitchen. Those scones – they were lethal weapons – I remember giving one to Meeks (our german shepherd) and she didn’t even eat it. Although during lockdown – thanks to my friend Simone, I tried “Spur” onion rings. Oh my word dear reader these were a frikken major success but, but but!! Gary and I were no speaks (remember I “purposely” broke his beloved TV) so when I served my burger and prize – really, really prize onion rings for dinns that night – he didn’t eat –  though Meeks lurrrrved them! I recall I was so, so proud of them I even left them overnight – sure that he would be starving in the morning and relent and tuck in  (he didn’t!).

Talking about my failures – scones, linen suits, oh yes my bestest that I fail at – quick digression here – purposely done digression might I add! Directions: – yip I swear I will ask for directions you will take ten minutes giving them to me – for the future – don’t bother as soon as you start with “Ok so you know when you at the first robot……” – dear reader you have well and truly lost me – I always figure “ahhhhh I will find it” – and for the records – I don’t – but thanks to Sheilagh (Google) I do “reach my destination”.

At this point I do need to mention my dearest, dearest bestie Maureen aka third hip – aka Mausie – when she was my boss and gave me work to do. We were in advertising – I was a media buyer. She would instruct me what to do. I would again leave the building. Mausie would count to ten and wait – because I never let her down – and there I would be – entering her office for a second time – to “recap” what it was she was wanting me to do!

So, I was saying my failures – hmmm maybe pet hates could be a description in this instance. When I am making eggs (fried) and I break it into the pan – DON’T dearest little egg yolk – DON’T EVER break …..ohhhh my word I need a frikken therapist when this occurs and people that happen to be in the kitchen – they need to ensure their Medical aid is in order – as they will be hurt! Who does win in this instance? The dogs. I turn those broken little egg yolks into scrambled eggs – oh and my parrot, Roxy (and Ring neck Wally) yip – handy hint dear reader – I learnt it in FAIRLADY – parrots (and ring necks which FAIRLADY didn’t mention) love bland scrambled eggs. No spices – salt is good – and bobs your uncle! No wastage either. Um ok so I was saying, oh yes another mistake that turned into a win! Remember my recent Malva pudding – when I decided even though the box cake directions said add little sachet that was included in the box and I was “hell no I don’t think so” and the peeps asked how did I manage to get the malva so “crispy” ….. sigh sigh. Life with Dizabeth. Last delish food I have seriously well and truly aced and rock at! Biltong – yip started making it when we first arrived here – and if I say so myself – frikken yummy, yummy YUMMO!

My Kitchen curtains I sewed

So in conclusion to the title of this week’s blog – I am not competing with anyone else but dear old Dizabeth’s side kick – aka Elizabeth, Liz, Dizzy Lizzy or as Gary sometimes labels My gift cards “To my bitchin from Hell”. Lets lay your minds to rest – at this stage – yip only at this stage Dizabeth definitely hasn’t any plans on opening her own Home Industries shop ……erm …or does she?

Till next week dear reader stay safe.

 Last foot note for this Blog: Last night I watched the last episode of The Block (Season 16) if you haven’t ever given The Block a try – download a season – you will never look back (promise!) anyhow (last digression). One of the couples who were contestants – when they had completed their home in last nights episode and were leaving the house – next step the house and the other 4 contenstants and their houses, go on auction. The contestants – namely Jimmy & Tam – Tam said “That’s all she wrote…” – those beautiful last words resonated so, so deeply with me – in fact (if I remember) I plan to end each BLOG off with her words (shit wonder is she signed ©for it?? – ah well we soon will find out, as I am, as I say if I remember I am signing out this way each BLOG …..

So my lovelies – take care, stay safe and …..Thats all she wrote.

Mwah mwah

Saving the best for last ….my Christmas table decoration

Last week I had a situation, a situation I really didn’t want to be in. So, I decided what the heck I am going to say no! Well, well, well that was not met with happiness on the receiving side at all! Now you know me, I can’t stand disappointing anyone, but hell man – surely that should include myself! Yet, it doesn’t!

I get that most of us try our level best to keep the happiness boat a float. So last week I was asked to do something which I really was not happy to do. I don’t want to get into too much detail here – but I really was not at all happy to do it! I said no – and immediately felt that cold war, sulky vibe!

It didn’t even frikken sneak up – it was …as I opened my mouth with the N for no ….. “nnnnnnn…” it was there whamo in my face. I cannot lie, I frikken lay awake at night pondering this decision. I had said no for a valid reason but found myself tossing and turning – now do you think that they, the other party was lying awake tossing and turning …erm a definite no here! So why, oh why was I? I have always been one of those – “Erm so sorry to worry you, do you mind? Ah thank you, thank you – so appreciate” blah blah blah on and on I go. I truly hate saying NO but it’s time to learn. Instead of tossing and turning (although mind you, with all my tossing and turning I surely do lose weight – nah you reckon not?) Never mind the hectic dark rings under my eyes! I certainly would not have to worry about applying make-up if I were to participate as a zombie for Halloween. Dizabeth can just go as herself! Some of the times that I have said no – (including last week) I then worry and have the longest debates with myself. Was that fair of me? Now if this were to be reversed. The person I am tossing and turning about, that I dared say no to – as if I was swallowing glass, well they would have boomed a resounding NO and not had a second thought about that little No! So why is it – well maybe not you dear reader – but dearest Dizabeth – she really battles to say no to a virtual stranger – yet my loved ones – boy oh boy does Dizabeth do a loud and clear no.  Not even a slight hesitation there – Nope. Nada. Niks. Nothing other than it is a definite no. When the kids were small – actually maybe that is it – I as a young mama bear I used up all my no’s and then some! “Mom please can we…..”

“No! No! No!” I boomed. Mind you, interesting one – our newbie – Rosie! Our cute rescue who has been a Robbertze since August – now she has learnt to manipulate me to never say no to her. I recently was given some lovely hand cream it really is lovely and was quite expensive (how do I know this little fact – the price was still on it!) I have a habit of leaving things here, there and

Little Bandit with Miss No No Not – Rosie

everywhere – now Rosie – she has a habit of finding things that are left here, there and everywhere and she takes them, chews them and sometimes even buries them! Two recent incidents: she took my hand cream – chewed it beyond recognition. With my blady nail polish – no, no dear reader (the top part of the nail polish – chewed, chewed and then left it to bake in the sun!) Did she get into trouble – did I boom a resounding nooooooo to her when I finally found them? No, I did not. Why is this? Why does this little fur kid get away with no big fat reprimand that would include that little word “No? Simply because she is just too damn cute, she has me wrapped around her furry little paw – in fact – all four of them!!

Now I can think of two occasions when I DID say an emphatic NO! Gary and a friend, erm, well I wouldn’t call him a friend – he was a blady pair of underpants – Mr User. It all started for one of the big world cup rugby matches. No, I have no idea which one dear reader – I am afraid to say I have zero interest in rugby. I may watch if it involves a glass of wine, other than that – nah – not for me thanks! Their friendship started when Gary and Mr. User went to Amsterdam on business. It was here that Gary failed to read the huge, really huge and ugly display of graffiti never mind writing on the wall! Apparently, they both had an allowance per day. Now what this guy did, he would conveniently spend his on things for him and his family but when it came to the pub – he would bum off my beloved husband. Yip I hear you asking what did I get as a gift from Amsterdam? Sore subject my lovelies – very, very in fact, damn sore subject! I had placed an order for a Pandora charm. Now let me tell you I know that this was obtainable because – yip you guessed! Dizabeth googled where in Amsterdam the Pandora shop was – and dear lovelies – how convenient, it was at the airport which Gary chose to walk right past! Now let me tell you, had there been a pub next door to said Pandora shop – then perhaps after a couple of pints I may, just may have gotten my wish. But I didn’t – but dear Mr. User – he got more, much more than his fair share of beers – all with love from his blady travel buddy aka Gary. When they were on home shores again, they worked together (sort of) now the problem was he resided approximately three hours out of Nelspruit. So how convenient, since he had seen how generous Gary was in Amsterdam – whilst him and the family were in Nelspruit why oh, why would you even check out the local BnB’s or even air B&B’s when you had “dear old Gary” living in the hood?! Now I have been known to exaggerate on occasion. However, on this occasion dear reader I am definitely NOT. There was a rugby match – well Gary invited Mr. User and his family to come stay with us. They all tootled off to the live match here in Nellies. I of course grabbed the Netflix moment that it was and had a wonderful afternoon. It was after the game. When Mr.User, Gary and his family ….and no lies about eight friends pitched at our house. Yip there was over seventeen of us! Totally unexpected to me! And one question, who do you think did the cooking, cleaning and and ….yip! So, I smiled and waved. Until I didn’t! It occurred a second time. This occasion anyone on closer inspection would have picked up the slight twitch in my sulky face!!! But they didn’t – or rather chose not to. And again, I cooked, cleaned and this time consumed copious amounts of wine. When everyone staggered off to their bedrooms after a splendacious, chillaxing evening of Dizabeth doing everything. Dizabeth struck! I casually whipped Gary’s phone off the pool table, poured myself another glass of wine and put my plan into action. (Intro Cruella Devil cackle right here).

The next morning Gary awoke full of the joys of spring, albeit a bit twitchy around me as he had noticed my twitch and had felt the very angry vibe. As the brethren of “un”invited guests awoke they suddenly started packing, and that breakfast they had so casually ordered before retiring for the evening was forgotten. They were on a definite exiting exercise.

I stayed in the bedroom whilst they performed their dramatic exit. I waited with bated breath. When the gang had departed Gary came sheepishly to the bedroom door and even knocked before entering! “Babe Peter read me the what’s app I sent him last night.” he quietly murmured, embarrassment awash on his face.

I had sent Mr. User a what’s app from Gary’s phone, so from Gary I guess (wink wink!!!)

 “Mr. User, going forward I have decided – no more sleep overs – thank you and Good-bye.”

Well dear reader suffice to say Mr. User was never the same around Gary after that. Hm, clearly showing his true self. And Gary will never, ever admit to me – but I do believe he was truly thankful for my “no” in that instance. Next time any of you lovelies have a problematic, unwanted guest – call me!

There are however times where I feel I should not shout out a “hell no” – and I do. For instance, when at the supermarket – “Do you want a packet mam?” “No thanks it should be great I only have one or two items”. Then I juggle my way out of the blady shop as I drop, curtsy and do amazing stunts trying to retrieve the items I was adamant I didn’t need a packet for. “Can I help you with your trolley mam?”  “No thanks I am all good” as I narrowly miss the fancy BMW on my left but then hit a blady ditch and unbalance the whole blady apple cart. (Whilst the whole of Nelspruit watches me!) and days gone by, when Chad would try unsuccessfully, I might add to suppress his laughter as I fought to retrieve the now unbalanced groceries toppling out of the trolley!

Then there are those times you ponder whether should I have said “no” when I did? That occasion when Mr Dreamboat asked me to marry him after we had partied hard all night. Hm perhaps he really was a Mr. Money bags? Who remembers my neighbour Giovanni – he left the flowers in my Vespa basket? That night he asked Gary if Gary was indeed serious about me. Hm, what if Gary had said no? Would I be an Italian mama now, with pasta steaming in the kitchen – shit maybe even living the dream in Italy. Damn it man! Best I stop questioning all those no’s right now!

Funny as we wrap up this week – Gary never says, well, to me he never says no. If there is something he really isn’t keen on doing and I excitedly suggest “Babe should we go to the movies to see Ghost/Grease/The greatest showman on earth/Love story……you get my drift? He very diplomatically replies: “we can do” and that dear reader is a very, very, definite NO!

Till next week – take care, stay safe and healthy and thanks for all the love – I adore you lot, I truly do.

Mwah Mwah.

Before we continue with this week’s blog let me start by answering the silent question that a lot of my lovelies have been wondering. I began last week’s blog mentioning my sister-in-law and our cold war. I have since been told this intrigued a few and left you pondering as to whether we had in fact kissed and made up. Apologies for this “oversight” albeit for me it wasn’t an oversight. I mentioned her in the beginning purely to explain that the wedding was woven in drama before it even had a “save the date” attached to it. We did indeed acknowledge one another and were both very civil. My word! We even hugged. However, as for reuniting and being new best friends. I am afraid not. Too much water under the proverbial bridge. The silent cold front continues. I like to think I am not a woman of anger (Gosh how dramatic is that sentence, shucks Dizabeth definitely watching way too much Netflix!)

Whilst we on Netflix: First Fun fact of this week’s blog:

Looking for something on Netflix? I really, really, really did’nt think I would, but I lurved Alias Grace – go check it out. Its old times though hey, the long skirts and cart horses. Well worth it – well I thought so!

 Right back to the family drama, as I was saying, this isn’t a situation I am doing flick flacks over, but at the same time, it is what it is – and we cannot please all the people all the time. Family. Definitely the best of times – the worst of times!

We drove back from the wedding (more so, drove back after amazing family time) three weeks ago. My mom in law traversed with us. Now the trip between Durban/Nelspruit I swear let’s not get dramatic Dizabeth but it can be rather grueling and that’s in a car. Imagine what it was like back in the 1800’s in a blady ox wagon. Hmmm was it the 1800’s that ox wagons were the fashion? Not too clued up on this actually! (Come near dear readers, this is a Google moment – when were ox wagons around?) Now Gary would say if I was driving it would have been a real-life reminiscing of those ox wagon days or a moderner version, a true Driving Miss Daisy experience. (You will recall when we were driving to Stellenbosch taking Chad to Uni, we were 5kms from home when my phone rang. It was my beloved husband reminding me we had trillions of kms ahead of us and this wasn’t just a simple trip to the local mall. “Put your foot on the blady gas woman!”) Hmmm so perhaps he does have a point. BUT remember the television advertisement from centuries ago, Christopher White who drove around the Benz? The one filmed on Chapmans Peak? Well, some of our mountain passes are an exact replica of that!

So Dizabeth does tend to lean towards the very, extremely cautious speed. Oh, my giddy aunt it is hair raising enough in our car. I say “our” car as this is also a story for another day, we are a little Suzuki Swift couple currently. Digressed again I see!  So, ok, ok since Gary is the designated driver it is way, way, waaaaaaaay more hair raising than you can begin to imagine dear reader! Yikes even his mama bear was chirping from the back seat. Yip, you said it a real “back seat driver”. And me? Ok truth be told I frikken relished every minute, in fact every second of her back seat chirping. I need to elaborate. Gary thinks he is a Top … damn what’s that program called? Ahhh remembered! (Ok that is a fib! I had to Google as this memory of Dizabeth’s! Hmmmm scary stuff as another wrinkle forms, she loses another chip off the old memory bank) as I was saying the program is Top Gear with Gary in the leading role, mind you I must add, fulfilling the roll with a true combination of Jeremy Clarkson, Richard Hammond and James May. No, I am dead serious my lovelies.  Oh yes, with a sprinkling of Jack Nicholson in The Shining. (Actually no I am wrong not a sprinkling but rather a huge dollop.) With that axe. “Here’s Johnny!” Shucks I do pity fellow drivers – they have no idea; I am sure they get a sudden bolt of anger spewing towards them from literally nowhere. They, no doubt feel a distinct temperature change, hot molten lava as Gary flooks them changing lanes and not putting their flickers on, indicating they were moving across. I always say to him “oh my word what a waste of precious energy – you are going ballistic at the poor driver, and he has no idea.”  He/she just would suddenly feel this angry negative energy consuming their inner thoughts!

This is one of the many gruelling roads in Ma-pumies ☹  

Ok shucks digressed hugely there. So, what was I on about? Ok, so we returned from the wedding and jumped straight back into the everyday hub bub of our lives. We took my mom in law into Kruger on the first weekend. That was amazing – she most definitely had her “sighting” eyes on and thanks to her we spotted our 4^th – yip that’s correct – our 4^th Pangolin. There was an Afrikaans couple (elderly couple) already at the sighting. We casually looked their way waiting for them to confirm whatever it was that they were checking out, when from the back seat – yip that back seat sure is getting plenty of mentions so far in this blog. We heard my mom in law shriek out “Armadillo!” …. Well for a minute or two I felt as if we had catapulted into an American wildlife scene. The harsh outback, the hot dry heat….  no, no that’s the Australian’s out back – so…… still the dry, beige, sun-soaked landscape, dead plants everywhere – set the scene enough for you my lovelies? You get the picture, a bleak and vast American desert (Who remembers the desert scenes in Breaking Bad? sandy, dry, bleak and definitely no lion or leopard popping up saying “Here I am! Here’s Johnny!” and so when the welcome voice from the backseat called out ‘Armadillo” we were “Hell woman it could be a blady Tyrannosaurus” it’s something! We had had, for those that have visited Kruger, or in fact any game reserve. You always seem to have (well we do!) those “dry spells” – all enthusiasm in the car is sucked dry, everyone goes beyond quiet. That excitement when you entered the gate, all shouting above your fellow passengers on what you are hoping to see. Now speaking for myself here, this is when I have left the building and am in my very own thoughts. “I wonder what I should cook for dinner this week?” “I wonder if I should in fact really cut my hair or just ask every stranger in the street what they think and do nothing about cutting it.” “I wonder how Pam’s weekend is going or more importantly did she walk on her own?”

“ARRRRRRRRRMMMAAADILLO” in an American – actually a Sol Kerzner accent! I grabbed my cellphone to capture the moment and suddenly (peaceful music – in slow motion – scene set) I decided I would far rather enjoy the moment – and so I did. Thank goodness as the little blighter fussed around, shoving brush and dead bush this way and that for half a second before he rolled himself into a ball. Now the interesting thing thus far – when mom in law (aka Patty Pancake) shrieked out “Armadillo” neither Mr. Croc Dundee (Gary) nor me corrected her and said “Erm no… Pangolin” … we both knew exactly what she was meaning. 

So, to avoid further confusion to the non-wild lifer’s – An armadillo is American – a pangolin is an African. Hm now here’s a question: Is he throughout Africa or just Saffer?  Wait going to Google. Watch this space. You see following Dizabeth you sure to learn nogal!

Right there we go Fun fact moment indeed:

Pangolins can be found in South Africa in northern KwaZulu-Natal, Mpumalanga, Limpopo and parts of Northwest. It can also be found in Zimbabwe, Mozambique, Botswana and Namibia

Moment of truth here please peeps. Who knew the above? Can’t say I did!

Ok, whilst we doing some research, is an armadillo American? Watch this space my lovelies!

Hm, there you go check this fun fact:-

The armadillo is native to both North America and South America, although only one species of Armadillo is found in the United States

Here for those that are loving the fun facts is a pic of how he looks :-

These photo’s – stating the obvious here – are a Pangolin 😊

As I mentioned she really was brilliant with her “spotting eyes” right on track. Was a lovely day. Sadly, no bears, or coyotes but besides…. oh wait a minute this was Kruger! And there certainly were no wild dogs! And in conclusion the little Afrikaans couple that we thought had spotted the pangolin – they were staring at who knows what! They didn’t seem to understand us and when we showed them the now rolled up pangolin, I think they thought we were taking the mickey out of them. They for the life of us couldn’t spot the rolled up, extremely well camouflaged pangolin in between the brush and bushes.

Now onward and upward we go, right away from the scaly creatures – onto long locks. For those that are not in the know Dizabeth finally realized that the Rapunzel long locks she was sporting were perhaps not as she imagined them to be! I do – I really, really love long hair. When I was a little girl, my mom used to cut my hair like a blady boy! Not that there is anything wrong with either a boy’s short hair, a girl’s short hair or either or – for all those peeps out there I am keeping this politically correct and for the records – short hair on a boy or girl is fabulous. Just not on Dizabeth!!! So actually, lets blame COVID I left my hair and left it and left it and it was long. Well ok not loooong, but longish. And I thought it looked damn fine. (Ok before I go on, as I am even getting confused now. Before COVID I had short but not short hair. You all with me? so Bobbish style). So as I was saying I thought my longish hair – thanks to COVID looked damn fine. However, not everyone was of that opinion. I started to kinda’ pick up the vibe that my hair wasn’t the golden shining long locks that I saw in the mirror. This started consuming my every thought – yip a few of you were confronted with an on-the-spot question “So what do you think – long or short?” I need to say you were all extremely diplomatic – so last week I woke up – saw myself as you saw me and decided “WTF????Who is this Witch Hazel before my eyes?” and decided then and there. Right now, I want it cut. But now recently I lost my beloved hairdresser. So, I was in a bit of a “tangle” (love the play on words here, don’t you?) I contacted my nail lady, my pedi lady (yip they are two different ladies) and clearly, they both don’t know Dizabeth as they should. They didn’t answer when I rang. No problem to me – I what’s app’d them both. Then pinged, pinged and pinged again. To no avail. In fact up till today I still have not heard from either of them – hmmm wonder why that would be?? So as I was saying, by now I was besides myself and if any of the thousands of pairs of scissors I own – if only one had been sharp enough I would have played hairdresser, hairdresser. Thank goodness not a sharp pair was within my reach and my two ladies were lost in some blady black hole. So, I started pondering the malls in my hood. Ah ha!!! I remembered one, so in my car I jumped and took a “casual” (not!) drive down to the centre. I casually walked past the hairdresser pretending I was indeed off to Checkers – walked into and out of Checkers and casually walked into the salon and asked would they have an appointment. I must add it was at this stage, I had one last attempt at the receptionist agreeing that in fact my long hair really was beautiful, and I was silly to cut it. I even paused after saying I was here to cut my hair. Giving her plenty time to jump right in – and she didn’t! Well, a half hour later there I sat listening to the hairdresser as she droned on and on about her hubby that had left her for a younger woman, what the fortune teller predicted and how the much older man she was currently seeing doted on her. I swear I thought I was gonna plutz, once we had assessed what style I would settle on and she had tried desperately, in fact very desperately to convince me I needed a streak or two. I said “nope” so then we went from streaks to my hair being very, very, very dry and needing an in depth rich conditioning mask for R250.

question here then – if my hair was sooooo in need of this treatment why the heck would we damage it more by doing said streaks? See where I am going with this my lovelies? Anyhow so off we go to the basin, and I am so, so, so looking forward to my wash and the massage that goes along with this. But doesn’t the hairdresser stand and talk and talk and talk – so was I enjoying my massage? Erm NO! I will give the hairdresser credit here though. She was incredibly professional and spent close on an hour cutting my hair. This fascinates me too. Remember when you were little and decided your fringe needed a trim or your Barbie needed a bob, and you just took that pair of scissors and hacked off in a “straight” line. She combed, flicked this way, cut a bit – combed flicked again, squared up the right with the left side and cut again. Anyhow, before I knew it, I was walking out with a brand-new look. (Me grey ….no way …. another ad – remember it lovelies?) Now for that first week I was super, super chuffed. The hair fell perfectly into style even when I woke in the middle of the night for the loo. It was perfectly perfect. Until it wasn’t!! Each day it got a little dirtier I put off that first wash for as long as possible. Eventually it was time to stand under the shower and wash it. This was followed by my blow drying it. Well, let’s just say I would fail if I ever decided on becoming a hairdresser. That woman that walked out of the salon and wore that hairstyle for the remainder of the week most certainly was not the same woman who washed, and blow dried her own hair. Anyhow after spending a fair amount of time blow drying – the next morning I went for my usual walk with my dearest friend, it was a cool drizzly day which of course I was loving especially when walking. That was until I returned home and happened to walk past the mirror in the lounge. WTF!!! There in my blady lounge was one of those little rondavels that you see in Skukuza in Kruger. You know the ones I am meaning, short, stout round buildings with frikken thatched roofs that you cannot miss! I spent the remainder of the day trying to not only convince myself but Gary and mom in law that this “casually curly wild dragged through the bush backwards” look was in fact quite attractive. I knew secretly it was HIDEOUS. So, Sunday night we were back in the shower followed by another blow-drying session! One question: Why the heck when I blow dry my hair does it look nothing, not even close to the look the hairdresser gets?

The photo of me in my lounge with my frizzy thatched roof hairstyle!

And on that note my lovelies I will leave you to ponder. How come the hairdresser can perfect my hair, frikken hell it’s my blady hair I have lived with it for fifty-eight blady years, yet she sees it for a brief hour and has it perfected! I expect you to all take a minute or two here….and Google this question please 😊.

Thanks to all of you for your love and enthusiasm always. I am so encouraged and truly adore you all. Thank you. Till next week. Stay safe, and remember, be kind to yourself, ALWAYS.

Mwah mwah

(Thanks for the title, Charlie Boy)

A year ago my sister-in-law and I had a “slight” altercation that changed our lives forever. We both continued our lives as if we had never met. Ok, so maybe there were the three occasions I drank too much (me, Dizabeth never!) and contacted her via what’s app: first time was so random. She is a baker I saw an Aero baking chocolate. Well, it was a major case of “Erm earth to sis-in- law”. Press sent button. One tick followed by two, then two blue ticks. Followed by a very deafening silence. Dizabeth, didn’t get the memo and so at Easter and her birthday again I sent messages. To which there was no reply. It was at this stage, Dizabeth decided it is time to quit. As we all know being the drama Queen Dizzy is she deleted her “darling” sis-in- law. Then (dum, dum …. roll out dramatic music!) her son (sister in law’s son, for those that are getting as confused as me!) decided he loved his fiancée enough to change her status to his wife. So, yip a wedding invite arrived. No not in the post, which in fact is a hugely sad fact. In Nellies all our post offices besides the dodgy one in the centre of town have shut down permanently. I do believe along with that decision is the fact that there will be no more “I wrote a letter to my love and on the way, I dropped it” scenarios Yes/No? Maybe…. What are your thoughts on this one all my lovelies? In fact, I cannot remember if it was via What’s app or email? (Really Dizabeth does it matter) so that in a long way around is why Blog 16 has been so long in been published. Ok I am even thinking, what the heck is this woman leading up to? So let me explain. After much to-ing and fro-ing, we traversed to KZN for the wedding. We spent the week before with the kids. Ryan turned 30 and as if that wasn’t big enough occasion, he did a 50 miler in Karkloof. It was lovely but as a mama bear, being there and seeing him run those last kms in the beating sun, it was quite a challenge. As yes, he is his own person now and makes his own decisions but really – to decide to run a 50 miler – yip I don’t see the passion for this sport as he does – but then again …okay Dizabeth, let’s leave it at that – we are all entitled to run, walk, and in my case write because it is what makes our hearts happy. So, my point? It was quite a heart wrenching moment. The day Ryan would be approaching the finishing line (queue Forest Gump soundtrack – run Forrest run!) My youngest Chad would be touching down in Durban to the welcoming party that was erm no one as we were all at the finishing line at Karkloof. Now this would not be such an issue if it wasn’t for the fact that this was the second time he has arrived in Durban to a “Norman no friends” scenario. How bleak is that? Add to this fact that I had not seen him since January. You will recall we were blessed to have Ryan and Michelle stay with us when the frikken Looters were running wild in July (actually they not even worth giving attention to even in a small unknown blog such as mine!) We were blessed there that they were not in the midst of that horrendous event. So, back to the bit where I really felt I wish I could space travel: see Ryan cross the Karkloof finish line and then whizz in my Back to the Future time machine to welcome Chaddy as he stepped off the plane onto Durban soil. It was not to be. After the race had been completed – Gary and I beetled it home – shucks that was, quite a feat let me tell you. Karkloof…all the way down Fields Hill was mist and rain and many, many potholes! Lordy the potholes were horrendous. Anyhow we made it home and welcomed Chad with Ryan and Michelle joining us a little later.

My darling child and Hubby at the finish line

The week whizzed by with plenty of fantastic family memories being made. The most fantastical were the ones made with Nan, Grandad and Tide. Ryan and Chad reality called and they continued working. Chad remotely, Ryan to the school he went each day. I think it was on the first day of the working week that Gary and I took Tide for the morning. He bunked school, so that was another interesting experience. I went along for the ride, great excitement as Nan went with Mama Bear to drop Tide off at school, Nan in her gown and slippers nogal! Great excitement for Nan (I reckon more so than Tide). We arrived at the school and the cuteness personified chap grabs his little backpack and waves a hearty goodbye to Nan and mom. It was at this point that the memories flooded back for nan. Those days when I as a young mom, always running late, flustered and my mind already on what today brought. I dropped off the boys, waved them goodbye enthusiastically as they made their way through the school gate. The memories: I realized how quickly life rushes by, I felt overcome with tears and had a good, happy cry all the way home! To create lifers, I did some real crazy memory making moments. When we dropped Tide, I ensured I was in the car before mom strapped him into his seat in the back seat. As the car started, I jumped up from the seat behind Tide with a shower cap on, my gown and slippers and pretended I had in fact been asleep when the car engine had awoken me. The delight on my little grandson’s face as he watched literally gob smacked as Nan stretched and yawned from the back seat was priceless. Then there was the occasion as Tide played in the bath Nan came through asking how his bath was going as she casually and fully clothed jumped into the bath with him. Another priceless moment and a huge thank you to my dearest friends Rick and Tracy for sharing these moments with me. Great idea and as I said created priceless Lifer memories for both Tide and his Nan. 😊 We also had great “hide & seek moments”. Tide loves in fact adores playing hide n seek. I am convinced every time he noticed Nan was too relaxed and looking like she was kicking back he would enthusiastically suggest “Hide nan Hide!” Anyhow, that was a huge digress. So, we took him to Mitchell Park. (Hmm rather bleak look these days hey Durban peeps☹) although if I think of it not that a child would notice. Having frequented it so when our kids were small it was a huge disappointment, anyhow as I say not for Tide. We had an amazing morning even with Grumpasurus Gramps with us. He would be the disciplinarian whilst Nan played the fool and had heaps of fun with Tide. We arrived there at 9am and left when he mentioned for a second time, he wanted to go home, was fast approaching his nap. He passed out in the car – face covered in chocolate, Niknaks and juice. A wonderful morning was had by all. I, commend Grandad here when I was gadding with Karen, Granddad took Tide to the bird park – all on his ownsome nogal!

This little chap is yawning not about to take a bite of his chip.

Now some of these moments became quite extended as whilst I twisted my old, not agile body into little hidey ho spots and hoped and prayed it wouldn’t take long for the family to find us. I must mention the excitement and thrill that Tide experienced as we remained hidden were again priceless. Whispering to his Nan, and the excitement reaching its highest point when he heard the footsteps approaching as a family member got closer and closer to our hiding spot. However, there were those moments when said family members were so busy chitty chatting that they completely forgot to come and look for us. There Nan sat in a tiny hiding spot, a hot flush slowly consuming her  every being. Now it is at this point I have to relate how uncooperative Uncle Chad and Grandad were at Hide and seek. Awhile back we won an amazing life-size Teddy Bear for Tide, whom at this moment is his confidante (No, no not in the movie TED way). So we in Chad’s (Actually Tide’s room) hiding on the bed, behind Mr. Teddy and Chad truly has no idea we are there. He casually walks into the room scratching and yawning, thinking he is having a private moment in his room. Erm…with Nan and Tide hiding not! So, Tide is beside himself with excitement. I, on the other hand am pretty sure Chad can see us (me especially since I am the same size as the blady bear!) and I reckon he is playing along. Until I realise he isn’t as he looks at me (and Tide) gets the fright of his life and bellows out “WTF Ma?” …so of course I am signaling for him to pretend and say “Hmmmm I wonder where Tide could be” ….and move a few objects around as you pretend you can’t see him. Well, this dear readers went down like a frikken lead balloon. He stood there, staring at myself and Tide and said in the most monotone tone I have ever heard “Where is Tide?“ waited not even half a frikken second and pointed at us and said in that same blady tone “Oh, there he is.”

Exercising and although Nan looks a pity poogey here its actually called tiredness but full hearts all round.

Now I am sad to say Gary was no better. He walked into the room and wouldn’t even attempt to look behind objects but would walk straight up to us and say, in a slightly, ever so slightly thrilling tone “There is Tide.” I must commend my Skoondogter at this point too. As when Nan was well and truly feeling bushed, and Tide excitedly ran up to me and said, “Nan Hide?” my gorgeous Skoondogter would give me a glance and say to Tide, no my boy Nan needs to help mom with this or that chore.” – thank you for that Skoondogter. Footnote here: When Tide is “hiding” an example is he was hiding behind the net curtain in the lounge, you walk in – clearly you spot him instantly but obviously you pretend you haven’t seen him as you loudly say “Hm I wonder where Tide could be”. It is so, so, so blady cute he actually goes “Psst” from behind the curtain as the excitement of it all cousumes his every being. I will never forget this very, very real emotional exciting moment he portrays. He truly is in the game.

In between playing Hide and seek, taking Tide to school and forming a closer, memorable bond with my precious little grandson I was very, very fortunate to spend quality “sister and me” time with Karen. Thank you for the spoils my sis. We high tea’d at the Oyster Box – oh my giddy aunt – what a flippen treat! We lunched at Java Café in Umdholti and coffee’d everywhere as we chitty chatted about days gone by, today and tomorrows still to come. I adore my sister truly I do thanks for being the most amazing salt of the earth girl I have ever known and have the privilege of saying “Hell Yes she is my sister!”

We decided it was also time to lay mom and dad to rest. Each time we get together we chat about this but always seem to not get there time wise. So, this time we made a concerted effort. I arrived the Sunday morning – the weather played along, it was a grey, misty rainy day. We both had on our warm clothes and Karen brought mom and dad out. We were finally going to have our goodbyes with them. Until that is, we couldn’t open the boxes with their ashes inside. I know, I know, I hear you all bellowing. WTF? Why? Well, the dearest Ellis sisters were of the thought that you simply lifted the lid of the wooden box when in fact dear reader you need to have a screwdriver on you. So, for now until my next visit mom and dad are still residing on the shelf with Karen. It is at this point I do have to add. Karen asked, “Would you like to take mom with you to Nelspruit?” I could just imagine Gary’s face with mom sitting pride of place on the lounge shelf. So, till next time mom and dad – remember as whacky as you both were – we love you and will remember the screwdriver next time 😊. Thank you, Tracy and Pete, for including us in Jaxon’s 4^th Birthday, it was an amazing start to a truly precious and blessed family time holiday. We met dearest Harvey too. What a charmer he is already. Thank you also to Karen for hosting us for a family braai and including our dear friends Shaz and Gerard.

My Beautiful skoondogter and oldest hunky son Ryan.

As I have already mentioned it was fantastic reliving the memories of our teen years in the hood. Karen and I visited the La Lucia Mall and as in the days gone by – you are sure to bump into someone you know each time and true to form it was lovely – really, lovely seeing you Gail Holman and Karen (nope another one not my sis dear readers). Hopefully Gail next time we can confidently give each other the hugest bear hugs with no fears of that dreaded C word! Niknak, who I know for a fact won’t be seeing this as she doesn’t even read labels! So a huge shout out to her, it was fantastic seeing you, Daryl, Hayden and Tay. They have lived in the same house since the day we met. So, with the memory a little sketchy we arrive outside their house, toot toot, nothing. We notice there is a person inside the house that clearly can see our car, yet still no gate opening. It is at this stage Gary starts flooking me and questioning are you sure that this is the house. “Of course, it is” I very confidently reply whilst quietly starting to wonder myself. Again, we give a gentle toot. Finally, the gate slowly starts opening. We drive in, and I am so sure any minute now that front door that is so familiar to me will open and out will bound Niknak. Nothing. Not even a blady dog comes bounding out. Gary says: “I swear Liz if this is the wrong house I will die of embarrassment”. I answer, “Relax man of course its their house” Whilst I am silently seriously now doubting myself. What if they have frikken sold the house and she thinks I am aware of this fact and is in fact waiting for me at her new house. After what felt like the longest time in a strangers blady garden, the door burst open and there was dear Niknak with her usual laughing face and biggest hug.

My second hunkiest gorgeous boy, Chad and his (and our) beautiful Monet.

Before we knew it, it was Friday and tomorrow was time to “face the music” (Dum dum dum dramatic music) we awoke, threw (it was a time thing, so we literally threw) our wedding clothing and everything else into the back of the car and off we tootled. In our Honda seven-seater which Gary purchased a few years back for exactly a time like this. Chad who has the longest legs ever, sat with Gary in the front, then Monet, Skoondogter and precious little Tide in his car seat, and last but not least Nan in the very back. We had the best time enthusiastically discussing our wedding wishes. What food would they serve? And the canapes, what would they comprise of? Chad mentioned when at his brother’s wedding he had concentrated on getting totally sloshed so this time was so looking forward to the food. Monet hadn’t been to a wedding since she was seven years old. I of course had my silent concerns of seeing my “beloved” sister-in-law after our altercation a year ago. It was an amazing family time as we traversed to the venue which was in Underberg. The weather was again misty and rainy, and we distracted Gary from realizing how bad the road was with the potholes along the way with our banter. We stopped at a very welcome little coffee shop called Rox on the way. I of course being the oinky that I am, ordered the most delish toastie and a hot chocolate. Yummo 😊 it really was a great road trip vibe filled with anticipation in an excited way. We arrived at 1.40pm the wedding was 2.30 we raced to the camping site toilets and hurriedly dressed. Ok, so going back a bit, I had not brought my black boots along as I thought agh its summery now. However, as the weatherman had predicted snow and I had brought along my stylish little black slip on’s I did think yikes I was gonna be frizzzo. Then I had a flash of brilliance and asked Michelle if she would mind very much if we stopped off at her house which was on the way to collect her fluffy black boots. Although it did cause considerable anxiety for Gary that we would be diverting from our planned route – we stopped none the less. It was raining so dear Michelle stood on the rain-soaked pavement with her precious little grand daughter and threw the boots in the general direction of our car as it zoomed past. (Not really but you get the idea for dramatic effect!) so when I was getting to the putting on the black tights bit (my absolute genius idea) don’t I realise in my rush to pack I had not included the black tights! So, there I was my lily-white legs in my little black slip on’s – slip sliding around in the sludge of the mud.  When we had booked our accommodation, it was really quite pricy, so genius Dizabeth decided on the cheapest option. Camping. No, not glamping – Camping! Little did she know it would be incredibly inclement weather and snow predicted nogal! So, I was having therapy about the fact that I had buggered up so when my skoondogter came to my rescue. As Ryan was the best man – he could take my place in the tent whilst Tide, his mama bear and Nan shared their comfy bed at the venue. This thought comforted me way more than any of you would ever, ever, frikken eveeeer imagine. I didn’t stress too much about my slip on’s knowing that when it came time to retire for the evening I would be ensconced in a comfy warm bed. That is until we looked at the accommodation list. And there bright and bold on the list it stated that Ryan Roberts would be in tent town. Well, well, well my lovelies that was me. I was just about plutzing, as I must admit was Michelle. However, she most certainly had more of a reason what with little Tide perhaps having to sleep in a tent. When we finally realized that we had supposed the incorrect info and that said Ryan Roberts was not in fact our Ryan (surname being Robbertze – obvious!) I cannot stipulate enough the flick flacks we both performed.  So, after a really frizzo wedding reception dear Dizabeth quietly slip slid her way through the sludge to her toastie bedroom.  I woke sometime during the night with Ryan and Michelle sneakily getting a pile of blankets together for those unfortunate buggers sleeping in the tents, namely Gary, Chad and Monet. Apparently enough alcohol was consumed so that they never even knew that they were sleeping in a tent – never mind how frikken frizzo it was weatherwise.

Mama bear, Papa bear and baby bear.

It truly touched my heart when we awoke the following morning – Tide woke and was clearly confused as to where the heck he was (wait until you start joling as a young man Tide, you will have that feeling plenty of times!) he literally woke and asked “Where Tide?” followed by “Who is this?” then recognizing it as his dearest Nan. I would love to know the thoughts running through his head as to why Nan, Mom and dad were all in the same bed! 😊 (yip at 2am when it was finally time to retire Ryan decided the bed a better option) so not to sound anything like “Indecent proposal” or “Southern comfort” or God forbid “Deliverance” – we had a family sleep over 😊.

After a truly dreadful occurrence at the wedding and hence an incredibly stressful trip home – the reasons are way too many to share in this blog (damn sure you lovelies have had enough for this week anyway) we finally arrived home (Nelspruit) 8pm last Monday night. My mom-in-law is currently visiting with us – no excuses but hence the added delay publishing this blog.

Hope you have all been well.

Stay safe all my lovelies.

Take care till next time 😊

Mwah Mwah

Before we go any further with this week’s Blog. I wish to apologize profusely. I have just glanced back on BLOG14 – Lockdown. And the blady worst is I have no doubt, in fact I am surer than blady sure there are more in my previous blogs? (Damn, damn, damn – especially if my ex-tutor Ginny is following my blog – yikes – sorry Ginny) I hear you ask: “What is Dizabeth being a drama queen about now?” Well dearest readers three blady words! Frikken spelling errors. (Typo’s too). I promise you all, I do check, check, re check and eventually I am reading but not seeing the words as weak as that may sound. I swear it’s the truth! I, as they say, “cannot see the wood for the trees”. The huge faux pas I saw immediately this evening yet didn’t see it when editing, re-editing and frikken editing again. Panick WTF??!! So, so, sorry dear readers I am the first to admit my grammar isn’t always the greatest but frikken hell, I do like to think my spelling is up to scratch …. well, most of the time! (Hey Michelle😊).

Okay so with apologies done, let’s get on with this week’s blog. Things my kids did and said that I will remember FOREVER! (Unless I suffer from Alzheimer’s or Dementia☹ please God – No!!) I have an amazing friend, she goes back, way back in my Book of life. When Chad was born, she bought me a beautiful notebook and on the cover was the title of this week’s blog. I treasured that notebook the day I received it and I treasure it today. Thank you, Mrs. Jackson. 😊

How cute is the cover?

There are five and half years between Ryan and Chad. I don’t know if I have ever shared this – Gary didn’t want children. It was unbelievable, we attended engagement classes. How to not leave the toothpaste lid off, how to not do this or ensure you do do that. Maybe you consider doing this but rather check with your better half before doing the other thing – blah blah blah and so it went. BUT they never ever discussed whether you both wanted children. They warned us never go to bed angry with one another, and whilst talking about bed – remember how important the bed is – and what occurs in the bed – starting with an S. No, no not that!!! Sjoe, where are your blady minds, take them out the gutter. I meant smooch and sleep – definitely NOT snore!!!  So yes, Gary did not want children. When Ryan was born, at the tender age of two weeks – yip two weeks he developed (intro scary music ….) colic! Oh, my word it was horrendous. That is until we found Bennett’s. Wow it was amazing muti. Anyhow, so him being a colic baby certainly didn’t help the cause and hence the five- and half-year age gap between Ryan and Chad. However today they are both here regardless of the age gap and I am forever thankful that they are my gorgeous boys. As I always say they are truly My Everything. So, this week is dedicated to them and my precious memory book.

We will start off with Ryan – he and I were obviously extremely close I was fortunate enough to stay home until he was 18 months. (Now just editing it sounds like I wasn’t close to Chad – which for the records I was and still am 😊)I then returned to work however always half day. (I know how lucky and blessed was I). I have shared in previous blogs my dearest friend, Nikki. We met at clinic, and she had Luke and Kaleigh. Before I FINALLY got my license Nik’s, and I would push our prams to the Botanic Gardens for a crumpet with the works. We truly have some amazing memories of those younger years with the three little ones. Anyhow once again I am digressing, as this is about what the kids said and did not how many frikken times we walked to the Bot Gardens for a yummo crumpet.

 Footnote time: On the subject of those crumpets with the works, the works was gallons of syrup with 2 gallons of fresh fluffy cream – so yip you can imagine the pounds one could pack on – but two reasons why I never did. When Ryan was born – literally within six weeks I was Twiggy thin – I know right!! I could eat anything (and trust me I did!) and I wouldn’t put on weight. My mother-in-law would go on and on, in fact, everyone went on and on about my weight. I used to think Whatever! You just jelly belly (jealous) because I lost all my baby weight and am so adorably thin. In reality;  to the naked eye – in fact anyone else’s eye BUT MINE!) I was sickly thin and had frikken bug eyes. I swear they were revoltingly buggy. Turns out I had a thyroid problem and that was the reason for the wonderous weight loss!

Ryan the big brother with Chad days old.

Hmm, I am sitting here pondering on exactly how to write this week’s BLOG. I guess story by story hey? I always waffle on and on and now I am thinking. How the heck do I waffle on this week? Now what I am meaning by waffle is that each story each Blog kind of flows into the other, so I guess this week I will write by sharing each thing they said – one at a time dearest Dizabeth. 😊

I can’t say the first story that “comes to mind” as I have bragged about my book – so let me page through it and share my stories….

Ryan

When Ryan had a runny tummy – he would always say: Mom I have flat poohs OR he would say he had melted poohs! When he was nervous – he felt “dizzy in his tummy”. Okay so I am already thinking perhaps this could be a boring subject…. We as Mama Bears all have our own “ah cute” stories hey?  Shucks I am really feeling a bit betwixed and between here …. Okay let me press on and truly hope this isn’t a boring blog ☹

Ok, decision made, I will share the funny stories – not what Ryan said – or what Chad said, I imagine it is actually pretty boring hey? It’s not as if they were your kids and yip, we all have our “what they did stories” so for now I will put them aside and share the funny stories. (Ah thank you I hear you all sigh with relief.)

We had returned from a family holiday to Cape Town, driving home from the airport Gary asked Ryan if he had had a good time and if he would be sharing his holiday news with all his “China’s in his class” – Ryan gave Gary a sideways glance and replied nonchantly  “Dad there is only one China in our class – her name is Jennifer” …. Now I do certainly hope this story won’t be considered as a racist one – it’s actually a truly cute “out of the mouths of babes” if we all honest and keep life refreshing – agreed? Agreed!

Then there was the time – Ryan and I were driving – not too sure where and I laughed (Not that it matters where the heck we were driving hey dear reader). He gasped and said “Mom! When you laugh you get such stripes on your face!” …. Frikken hell and that was back in the day when I was still a spring chicken. Can you imagine what my grandson will be thinking one day *yikes maybe he already thinks it!!) when I laugh. Jeez O Johnny look at nan’s frikken crevices when she laughs!”

I recall the day I was chatting to a friend and asked when next she would be travelling – she replied:  “It all depends on finances”. On the way home – after obviously quietly pondering. Ryan asked why my friend had to depend on flying ants before travelling.  Whilst talking about the rugby one day – Ryan was calling out all the Sharks players – innocently he called out the names and amongst them was “The Ghost Westhuizen. (Cabous van der Westhuizen).

A precious weekend away at Hluluwe with dad the braai master.

Chad

When Chad was still a preschooler at Christopher Robin – it was the first week of the new school year, I had fetched both boys. As we drove home, I asked how their day had been. Chad was quite a mischievous little boy. So I asked had he been good – he didn’t answer. I repeated the question, to which he resignedly replied, “Mom I am tired of talking now”. Guess he had had another mischievous day 😊. Shucks I remember when I used to fetch him from school everyday – I swear – everyday the teacher would say “Do you know what Chad did today?” I recall the one day I was in a “delightful” mood and I drove to the school mimicking her “Sooooo I wonder what Chad did today???”

I recall the day – Chad was obsessed with motorbikes as a youngster. Now you will recall just last week I was sharing just how lazy Gary is, well here is further proof! Chad and I were chatting and as he loved off road bikes so much, I asked which he preferred if he could ride one. To which he replied, “well mom because dad hasn’t taken off my trainer wheels I cant even ride a bike properly – so how will I ever be able to ride a motorbike?” I swear dear readers. Yip, you all know what is coming next. That very day I hoiked out the blady spanners and took those damn training wheels off! To the absolute delight of little Chaddy Boy. He was soon riding a motorbike. Albeit a blady pink one. I know!!! A work colleague was selling one and it was a blady good price – so we put our pennies together to buy Chad his first motorbike – even if it was pink😊. In fact just thinking now, last Christmas we bought Tide his first bicycle – it was in a box  – on Christmas day Ryan erected the bike and yip you guessed it was pink. When we watched the video of him and his bike it was Chad who with a despondent tone asked “Why did you buy him a pink one ma?” Clearly, he was affected by his pink motorbike! Thinking now Ryan said he would take it and exchange for a blue one – hmmm wonder if he ever did?

One particular day Chad wasn’t feeling well so obviously I let him stay home with our maid. When I returned from work, I asked Chad how he was feeling. He was watching Cartoon Network and I asked had he slept at all to which replied, “No mom, I forgot to!”

Another time I was home sick, Oh my giddy aunt I felt dreadful. I was lying on my bed, Chad was also not 100s so he stayed home too. I put the TV on and retired to my room to wallow in self-pity. After a while Chad came through and said “Ma I wish the faces on the TV would talk back to me.” Yip, you guessed, I hoiked my blanket, pillow and myself pity self and lay like a sloth on the couch in front of the TV with my little chap :).

I recall the day Chad had a friend over to play. They were pumping under their arm pits. Making “farting” sounds. I overheard Chad saying to his little friend “Keaton my real farts are going to get so jealous because I am so good at making fart noises!”

What about the day – I always, in fact to this day, I talk to my plants. The one day as I chitty chatted to my plants Chad joyfully asked “Mom, its ok if I talk to my toys hey – as you talk to your plants?”

The last story I will relate was as I prepared dinner for the boy’s, I went to check on them in the bath. Approaching the bathroom, I heard Chad asking Ryan what was for dinner. To which Ryan replied, “Some animals bum.” I was making a Boston Butt!

So, my dear readers, I cannot lie – I am this week feeling pretty concerned at the subject choice I have made this week. I truly am hoping it isn’t too “weak” as I say I would really hate for all my beloved readers to be thinking: Ah for Pete’s sake Dizabeth, what are we doing relating these precious to us Mama Bear stories that aren’t really that “precious” if they aint your own kids – see what I am getting at here dear readers? I do hope you have enjoyed this week’s BLOG.

Now as I wrap up, I need to apologize in advance. I know! Frikken beginning and ending the BLOG with apologies. However as of this Thursday (the 23rd September – I am flik flaking across my lounge as I type this – I know, I know… how the hell could I possibly be doing cartwheels across the lounge whilst I type – well its blady obvious hey – I am not really doing cartwheels!  But I need to apologize and ask you my dear reader to please excuse me for the next week (or two) … we are attending a family wedding nnnnnneeeeeeeexxxxxt weekend – sooooo this week we are all going to meet up and spend the week as a family together before heading off to the wedding. I know – frikken amazing hey! Truly very, very, frikken vvvvvveeeeerrrrrry excited to see my boys. Promise I will listen closely to their convo’s, and I will be sure to share with you anything witty they may say that I want to remember forever.

Hey, shucks next week our dearest Ryan turns 30! Yikes Happy Happy 30th my precious angel – love you GAZILLIONS.

Please stay safe, healthy and blessed.

Thanks for believing in me and for being so frikken awesome.

Take care

Mwah mwah

Each week thus far I have no doubt you think to yourself “bets on – this week it will be about Lockdown” – after all it is the subject of the moment, besides COVID (Sigh Sigh).   And look at that – we have got to BLOG 14 and only now we going to chat about it. 😊 Last Thursday I had my second vaccine, now this I have realized is an extremely touchy subject – it is like politics, religion AND talking about the Vaccine – so we won’t!

I am sure we all remember “that” week before – the scary unknown of lockdown – and now frikken hell we are in the – I saw last night – think it was – wait let me check on my phone as of course I was messaging all in sundry in case they have forgotten how many days it has been! Ok found it – flippen hell after looking through allllll my chats Dizabeth remembered she had actually posted it – yip you guessed, on Facebook. I am sure everyone needs reminding what day we on – erm – NOT! So, yesterday it was day 530 – so, by the time I finish this blog and publish it, it will no doubt be day 1530! I know sorry I am so slack – I don’t mean to be – as I do indeed adore this BLOG and all of you. Truly life is so, so busy and I am not complaining as a busy life is also good – right?

So, back to lockdown I can recall so vividly the lead up to the lockdown. Those rumours were frikken worse than a runaway fire. In fact, I hate to say this, but it’s almost become a trend – and the trend I am meaning – (dramatic drum roll – and scary music in the background) fake news. Oh, my giddy aunt, how rife and hectic is that? Who can ever forget the toilet paper saga, which spread faster than any wildfire all across the globe I mean come on? Americans, Brits the first world countries literally “crapping” themselves in case they ran out of toilet paper! And no, nooooooooo I definitely didn’t stock up on toilet paper….

 “Sorry? erm, what was that you asked?”

 “Time. Did I stock up on time?”

 “Nope that was readily available and …. ohhhhhh wine, did I stock up on wine? Hmmm maybe, maybe not. Pshhh, of course I did dear readers. It wouldn’t be Dizabeth if she didn’t stock up on good ol’ wine!”

so going back to that lead up week.. Oh, my word the panick of running out of food (butcher shelves were so, so, so empty and in fact if we had run out of food, we wouldn’t have needed the toilet paper) it is actually crazy how us as humans can be! In fact, it’s – let’s face it – it is a bit embarrassing. We frikken the brains well, supposedly and yet we acted (ok, ok not all of us – sorry) but some acted like it was back in 1999 and the clock was going to roll over to 2000 the next morning. Computers and cars  would blow up, anything robotic (computerized is a better word here Dizabeth) would fizzle and freeze.

So here follows another Fun fact brought to you by Dizabeth (actually Google brought it to you):

They called this the great Y2K scare. The scare consisted of the fear that the entire computer systems were going to fail on New Year’s Eve 1999. This is because computer memory space was pricey then and memory was saved by using two digits for the date instead four. For example, a date representing 1995 would be saved as “95.

So, there you have it!😊

Back to the future we choof, choof …. ahhhhh nooooo do we have to go to 2020? ☹ I for one had SUCH hope! I swear to you I bought three diaries – yip I am an old fashion girl in that department. I still, every year buy a hard copy diary and write in it each and every day. No, no, not my personal adventures but rather my work to do list. When I was a young girl for many years’ I did keep a diary, what I would do to find those now! Ah no wait a minute, Charmaine and I used to play with our Barbies, fib about going to the Sands Disco and my dad would save the day lifting my friends in our (hm look at that she said our) I mean his big black Thunderbird. I would imagine my diaries are all pretty boring, probably in the same category as any Mills & Boon or dare I say this, sorry my lovelies I am going out on a limb now but even a Danielle Steele maybe? Digressing again Dizabeth. So, I bought three diaries the one I settled on finally was a dark beautiful night sky with stars in abundance splashed across the night sky and written in gold was “2020 Make a wish” ….

See what I mean. It was a lovely cover hey?

Well, I will leave it at that!

Getting back to the night before, I recall there was a horrendous storm here in Nellies. Sjoe! it was hectic a real angry storm, with very, very dramatic lightening and thunderous thunder followed by huge, I mean huge splats of rain drops! Since we didn’t know how long this would last (in saying that though let’s face it us humans are pretty clairvoyant, we all in the back of our minds knew it wasn’t going to be a two-week stint). Gary, myself and the whole of Nelspruit treated ourselves to our “last” takeaway. We all were on a pretty tight timeline as the take-away establishments closed at 9pm for obvious reasons. How crazy now it’s a way of life and we all so accustomed to establishments closing at 9pm. (Although Uncle Cyril has changed this – Level two think its 11pm). Back in the day (Pre COVID) if it closed at 9PM we were like Whaaaaat??? So, Gary and I got our takeaway, arrived home sopping wet from the big splats of raindrops. I remember we sailed home, never drove as the streets had turned into rivers. We were looking forward to pouring a glass of wine, chillaxing in front of the TV whilst we ate our take-way. (Back then we had noooooo idea how bored we would get with just pouring a glass of wine, staring at the television and it just being me and you). At this stage we were still “treasuring just the two of us hey Babe.” Anyhow, so we walked in the front door to THE most horrendous, I mean horrendous stink. As it had been storming, we had locked all the dogs inside. Now, Meeka our German Shepherd really wasn’t that fond of storms – and since this storm had been a dusi – yip you guessed. That stink – well Meeka the dear darling had deposited everything she had eaten that blady week all over the lounge, kitchen and then just for fun she deposited some more in the dining room! So, bang went dinner and out came the paper towel roll(s). The end result, I am not kidding you, there was so, so much to scoop and put in the pooper – I kid you not – the toilet blocked up! Little did we know that night but throughout the initial lockdown we would get to a stage where we were unable to even use that toilet. Remember we were basically stuck – no one was allowed in or out or anywhere. So, yip we had a serious blocked toilet all that time. Initially, me being me, it couldn’t have been that bad surely, so I continued using the toilet, flushing, flushing and flushing again – until it said ENOUGH! I remember the time it said “enough” I flushed the toilet and the water instead of diminishing – it rose and rose and rose…. I was watching and thinking – I reckon it is going to go down any minute, any minute now it will stop rising …. well just to bugger me around, it was just about to spill over the toilet lip when it decided “ha we got Dizabeth we will stop now” and it did and so did I – I closed that toilet door and that was it – until it wasn’t it. Oh, my word – this is a horrendous bit of the tale.  That night – so that same first night. Dizabeth had deposited more than a fair share of soiled paper towel down the toilet. After tidying up, eating cold take-away (shucks I am not even sure that I even ate after that??) I literally slurped my glass of wine and replaced it with another – and then another. We called it a night and off to bed we went. As I drifted off to sleep, I pondered on what “new world” we would awaken to tomorrow as I listened to the rain still falling heavily. And yes, it was still those huge splats, lots of them and falling at quite a rapid pace. At around 2amish I dreamt that Gary and I were in this boat, and it was flooding, no kidding (trying to set the scene as one does when watching a horror movie in

This picture …. No words necessary 😊

fact not just a horror movie any movie I suppose). Anyhow, I woke to Gary telling me in quite a hysterical tone that the house was flooded. I rolled over, placed the pillow over my head and hoped like hell I was really dreaming. Nope, Gary’s voice was still booming so I lazily kind of stretched, pulled the covers back and stepped into a frikken river of water. In fact, river is the incorrect description – Lake – I stepped into a lake! What had occurred dear reader, that same blady drain that I had managed to block – I still actually am not 100% sure what the reason was – but the continuous rain outside somehow blocked the drains and the water started rising and spewed out of our shower – the shower where the blady toilet was. So, my closing the door on the problem did not stop the water slowly rising. And whilst we blissfully slept, it crept up the pipes, and spewed out into every possible floor space in our blady passage. Of course, it couldn’t just leave it at that – nope it had to creep its way into every room! Gary and I wadded through the passage looked at each other and said, “F this! – more is nog n’ dag and since we aren’t going anywhere – this can wait.” We woke the next morning (obviously) now remember this was only day one – and we frikken mopped and mopped and mopped. Now Gary, I don’t know if I have mentioned before. Gary is truly the, I mean the laziest person I swear I have ever, ever met! So, he did a bit of mopping and then said he needed to go – shucks I can’t remember where he went – but went he did! But, but, but before he disappeared dear reader, he said that he felt we needed to let the floors “dry” – DRY!!!!! I thought I was going to plutz – not only was it an overcast day but the frikken floors were knee deep (exaggeration) in water. I was livid. Livid isn’t description enough I was befokked and obviously continued mopping and moving furniture and flooking Gary like I had never flooked him before! It was at this moment, I was moving the TV stand with the TV on it, there was a lake surrounding this scenario and yip you guessed it, I slipped and literally fell into the TV. Once I had retrieved my sopping, damaged self I hastily checked to see if Gary’s beloved was ok. I scooped it back onto its stand, checked the screen – no cracks – all good – Bobs your uncle I continued mopping, and mopping and mopping (and flooking and flooking aannnnnnd flooooooooking Gary). When he finally returned, I told him my tale of slipping in the water and “nearly” knocking his beloved off its stand. Later that evening I heard Gary screeching like one of the blady witches from Macbeth. I knew instantly what it was about. His beloved had a perfect screen, but the LCD works within her were kaput! We ended up having one of our most prolific fights ever! As dearest Gary said I had purposely broken his beloved! Yip I had purposely done it. Now dear reader, I am sure it is by now very, very obvious what a movie/TV fan I am – so I will leave it at that. (Yes, and I love YOU). For the records he never spoke to me for three days. Yip three days!

Whilst we on the subject of flooding. The other crazy “incident” we experienced during Lockdown. Gary tended to retire earlier than he did pre-Covid. I was watching TV (of course Dizabeth was!! In the entrance hall we have (had) a gorgeous, it truly was a stunning very stylish, huge goldfish bowl with three little goldfish living in it. At that time, they were tiny, and I always used to say they lived in a mansion. So, Gary had just tootled off to bed. There was the most awful smashing of glass, and at that exact time water gushed across the entrance hall as glass tinkled to the ground. I screamed for Gary (I did sound a bit like a banshee I have to confess) who came running through stark naked, with a hockey stick at the ready. He thought a home intruder had smashed our glass front door. What had in fact happened, a frame above the goldfish’s mansion chose to fall off – hit the edge of the mansion and shattered it into a trillion pieces. There I was frantically wading through broken glass, pebbles and plants trying to rescue the goldies. I picked one up – thought he was dead – dropped him back on the wreckage desperately seeking the next one to rescue. Turns out all three survived – today they are way bigger and have no, well none that I know of side effects from their world exploding.  And yip for those wondering – Gary tootled back to bed, hockey stick now down beside him in a relaxed position – and me – yip you guessed – I mopped up the tsunami that had occurred.

When I wasn’t mopping – which dear reader you will note I did a lot of! I started off with all good intentions – like all of us – be honest – very few of you really did keep up the whole exercise regime.

                             Another extremely self-explanatory photo 😊😊😊

 I started off, dusted off the exercise bike. Placed a cushion on the seat (why the heck are all bicycle seats so frikken hard?) rigged my phone with headset – downloaded a movie (which I never finished – reason being never exercised long enough!) even put on some gym clothes – well, they not gym clothes per say but close as damn it. There I was peddling – peddling and peddling – and this was only about 2 minutes’ worth, and I would stop – then would start again – anyway the jist of the story even the Netflix movie I was watching – it was actually Nicole Kidman in the life story of Grace Kelly. Well, that didn’t distract me enough from knowing I was exercising. Soon I was pretending I didn’t notice that lonesome exercise bike as I walked past it – I started walking around the pool – then I did an exercise routine via ZOOM with a friend each day – needless to say – none of it lasted! Fun fact, that bike had since acquired a new owner who doesn’t ignore it.

Now we go onto all things Illicit – wine. In all fairness to me it wasn’t supposed to be longer than two weeks. I had worked out my wine rations perfectly – until they weren’t perfect. Uncle Cyril extended the lockdown. What is that saying “n’ boer maak a plan” well we certainly did. I won’t mention the name of my friend who came to the rescue. But she knows and I salute you dear friend. I remember this same dear friend, when Gary wasn’t speaking to me for the three days solid (I broke his beloved screen). I snuck out on the pretense I was going to the shops. Instead, I snuck to her house for a good ol’ chat and therapy session. Across the road, unknown to me lived a family who were well connected and had the police as their friend. We were sitting in her lounge chillaxing and her son casually mentions the police are in the road. Now only a guilty mind would plutz as badly as I did! The thoughts racing through my mind faster than Hamilton winning a grandprix. They would notice that this car wasn’t one of the families. As we sat there, I was so sure they were calling in the arresting unit – and, and, and……. And as you can see – all turned out well. He in fact was also doing illicit actions – he was there for a visit too!

I have mentioned Violet & Rose in a previous BLOG. They were (are) amazing. Each day for a month they had an inspirational post each day. You were encouraged to write what you were thankful for that day, or to share where you saw the beauty that day. You get the idea dear reader? Each day there would be a R500 winner. This they continued for the month and beyond when our lockdown was extended. It was truly amazing. And yip I don’t recall if I mentioned it in my winnings BLOG, but I was extremely blessed to win here too.

And in actual fact it inspired me so, that I also did a fantastic writing course through the Writers college which I thoroughly enjoyed. When I wasn’t working (discovering the wonders of ZOOM), mopping, watching TV, exercising (tsk tsk!) reading (not so much the YOU as it was a tricky one to find each week so books) drawing, or sleeping I was baking! I must add at this point, I also found it amazingly awesome catching up with friends I hadn’t had ages long chats with that was extremely special. It was lovely as we were and still are all on the same sea but steering different boats. It was refreshing to realise we all could and would do this (and are continuing to). Right, as I was saying I am not a baker, never have been but hey I was willing to give it a try. I remember when the boys were young, I would bake their birthday cakes! I recall the one year baking a train for Ryan – it turned out more of a train wreck. So oh, another thing, I only ever bake box stuff – you know what I am meaning – you go to the baking section, check out which flavour box, vanilla, chocolate ….hmm think that is about all there is flavour wise – so I would bake the box (no man not literally bake the box – the ingredients provided inside the box) oh sometime as in the train these don’t turn out as I envisioned them either! But upward and onward we go! So, I got extremely adventurous and moved away from the cake boxes aisle and moved on to Lemon tarts, cheesecakes and then……. Rusks! Yip dear reader – rusks. Well, I was as proud as punch of my builder blocks as Gary referred to them. They may have looked intimidating but shucks they tasted yummo – and let me share with you – I don’t even like rusks!  I need to confess my scones; hmm they didn’t work out at all! In fact, I threw a major tantrum and threw the frikken flour across the kitchen (its already a crappy kitchen so now it was a white crappy kitchen!). Scones are always my go to when I am at tea or feeling bleh so why wouldn’t I bake some for myself? Well because I blady couldn’t! That frikken dough stuck on my blady fingers all sticky and flour everywhere, I salute all of you that can make scones – well blady done.

Certainly, no where near what my scones even got close to looking like ☹

Lastly the week leading up to our lockdown – I had just had to get a puzzle, now in the real world I hate puzzles! I DON’T enjoy cards, games and puzzles. BUT I searched it also had to be the prettiest puzzle. I recall now as I type I have mentioned this blady puzzle in a previous blog – can’t imagine why it is getting such attention since …yip I know you now know …I hate puzzles! It was a picture of a stately library anyhow I did try it – put all the pieces that were the same colour together – blah blah blah…. I never completed that – in fact I reckon Fraidy Cat had way, way more fun with the puzzle pieces than I ever did.

Interesting, I haven’t baked again, the puzzle is at a friend’s house. And that dear readers as they say in the baking world – is a baker’s dozen and this week’s blog is baked and ready for publishing.

Please stay safe and healthy out there.

To my dearest friend who passed last Saturday. R.I.P and know you will always be in my heart and remembered. Love you Tersh.

Thanks to all of your lovelies for your continued support and love.

Happy week ahead till next week.

Mwah mwah

PS – The title of this week’s blog. In the end I did venture into town – always a bit scarily – but yip I did 😊 you know what they say about a change of scenery? Even if it was only to the blady shops! (ok, ok ….and to my friends house!)

Many years ago, whilst in advertising, our company went through quite a slump – it was actually a blessing considering how bad that slump was, that we were never retrenched. It really was an exceptionally quiet time. Because I was a Media Buyer one of the huge perks of my position was receiving all the magazines (free of charge obviously) each month. They were for tear sheets. (Proof of  the adverts appearance.) However, the company would also get a tear sheet copy so we all scooped hugely each month. You take the cost of a magazine these days that is if it is still even in print (or even online for that matter??) I, as we all know, I love and definitely support YOU each week, I think if I remember correctly it used to be R15, it is now R36 but hey let’s remember one extremely pertinent issue here, if it is in YOU well hell then it must be true – just like when you see it on Facebook – correct?!

Dear reader I am afraid I couldn’t find an old YOU cover.

So, yip digressing already, as work was so quiet, each month when our magazines arrived I would (I have no idea why I ever started but I did – yes I can hear you questioning yourself, why is she asking, she has no idea why when she told us work was quiet – what I am meaning is – I could have read the articles – hmmm I suppose did that too and then entered – who knows??) I entered competitions. I only ever entered if I wanted to win the prize.  I would enter them and then completely forgot I had submitted an entry. What a pleasure it was, I will always remember the first notification I received that I had won! It was still back in the day when we received letters in a white envelope in the post box. We lived with my in-laws, we were going through quite a hard time in our lives, and they had very kindly offered to add onto their existing property for us. These were exceptionally hard days. I am not dissing anyone or talking behind anyone’s back, it was/still is public knowledge that my sister-in-law, certainly was not the easiest of people. God rest her soul she has since passed. As much as my folks in law were accepting and patient having the two young mischievous boys she most certainly was not. I recall the boys were not allowed to play soccer, they were not allowed to do this or that, it is amazing she even allowed them to blady breath. She really made their lives and mine hell. I only mentioned her to try and paint a picture for you dear reader. To depict how stressful it was.  Obviously for us to have moved in with my in-laws, we were in financial stress so yip – it was a bleak time. But since I have said this a trillion times and painted a real Van Gogh here –

Fun fact: · Vincent van Gogh was a Dutch post-Impressionist painter of landscapes, still, life works, and self-portraits. He was not commercially successful during his lifetime, and his death at 37 from a self-inflicted gunshot came after years of mental illness, depression, and poverty.

Made this picture as small as possible as we don’t want Van Gogh’s bleak mood hijacking our BLOG do we, dear reader?

 you no doubt all get the idea. I do try and keep my BLOG light and uplifting so this isn’t the case at all here – is it?!! I am very sure you all get the idea, bleak, dark times – “blah dee blah” Dizabeth goes on as only she can! So, here comes the sun dear reader, bright and sun shiny. I received that letter in the post. It was from Caxton who is a printing and publishing house. So, first thought, why are they sending me work letters to my home address. I continued cooking the dinner (which was dried, stale bread with heavily chlorinated water) kidding😊😊😊 but since I was in a Van Gogh frame of mind, I thought I would set the scene further😊 and be a drama queen of note.  I actually don’t recall what I was cooking but at that stage, we were all rather podgy! Some of “us” still are 😊.  Anyhow so I opened it and you know when it is the last thing you expecting to read? Well, there was this letter. It was informing me I had won a weekend for two at the Royal Livingstone Hotel in Zambia! What a wonderful first win. Oh! wait a minute, just thinking it started just before this win! We had an awards ceremony in the Advertising industry. In fact, the SABC radio division had an awards ceremony, on the, hmm I think the actual event was the 14^{th of} February 2000? It was welcoming in the new century (gosh remember how we all stressed that computers would shut down, cars would come to a complete stop and we even had those that, no, no, no I definitely wasn’t one of them who stocked up on food!) so we were invited and flew to Johannesburg to some fancy hotel and they had an awards ceremony and totally TOTALLY out the blue, I won a prize for the highest radio sales in the Coastal region. I used to handle the Department of Health and at that stage the health hazards were (still are) Cholera. So yes, dear reader that was the start of my wins. I won a TAG Heuer, that to this day I still wear and honestly it is still in such beautiful condition after all these years. (Gosh 21 now years now) the only hectic issue though with this watch, oh my word does it put you in the poor house when it needs battery replacing! You need to courier it to Picot & Moss they service it and replace the battery and that dear reader costs a small frikken fortune! Digressed again. Ah, I will never forget that night! I was in a party pooper mood. I had said that I was ready to board the first bus back to our hotel. I jokingly mentioned to a work colleague that once I had received my watch – I would board the bus. So of course, wasn’t I blown away when I actually won?

Right back to opening the letter whilst cooking dinner …. Gary and I went off for our Zambia weekend in the November. Oh, wow it was fantastic. The world-class treatment we received was mind-blowing. The prize included an activity. So, we chose to go white water river rafting. The morning we were set to go there obviously was a whole room of other guests listening to the dos and don’ts before we set off. Once the instructor had completed his talk he asked if there were any questions. It was at this point; I raised my arm and asked, “can I please back out of this activity?” – Gary was a true champ and took it on the chin – I know though he secretly was more than disappointed. Little did I know in years to come I would go on a conference and have no option and would do white water rafting. Oh, my word now that is really another story for another day. That was the day I thought I would be leaving our beloved planet. I am not the strongest in the exercise or endurance department, I will leave it at that. We did book and go on an Elephant outride on the Zimbabwean border – it was lovely. The huge issue here was – yikes I cringe when I think of it to this day. We didn’t have monies on us at the time to purchase the video of the elephant ride, there was another couple coincidentally also from Durban and they did have a copy. I buddied up with them – got their details and asked once we all returned home would they mind since I was in advertising if I loaned their copy and got a copy made for ourselves as I had connections in the SABC. And what dear reader was the blady outcome of that?? The contact wiped out their video instead of making a copy for us! Yip – I know – it was some of the worst news I have had to break to someone!

We truly have been blessed with some amazing wins through the years. I was blessed to win a quad bike not once but twice 😊 And both were such blessings. When we needed them the most – not only to the delight of the boys, it also ensured Ryan’s was birthday one of the most memorable. I was also extremely fortunate to win a weekend away for eight. That was a fantastic weekend with super close friends and we took the quad with. The kids had a true ball. As I say, I have ALWAYS believed everything happens as it should. My dearest friend Mausie always says “Its written in stars” – it sure is Mausie – it sure is 😊.

When we felt it was time to move out from the in-laws – I sold the quad and we used that as our deposit for our last home we would live in before settling here in Nelspruit. I adored that house, it had the worst kitchen, in fact I do believe in this lifetime I am destined to always have a truly crappy kitchen (why the Frik don’t I ever win a blady kitchen re-make. Hmmmmm let me get my wishing charm …I wish I wish…..) but it had sunshine streaming through each window, and the most gorgeous wooden floors and a verandah with those old red floors. Ah I loved that home. See what I mean – it all ALLL works out as it should. Even when things don’t work out how we imagined them to – when we look back even that that we dreamed of but that didn’t transpire – there was a reason why it didn’t – and always a good reason. There have been times to when I have been “close but no cigar” so to speak – twice I was in line to win a real biggy – once a car and once frikken hell don’t know why I didn’t win this one?? It was to go see Robbie Williams Live at Knebworth, UK. The closest I got here was I won the DVD. I was a HUGE, THE HUGEST Robbie Williams fan (Jane and I oh my word we were devoted to ol Robbie) I would put the video on every Friday night, pour my first of many glasses of vino and watch, watch and re- watch Robbie again (and again). Gosh when I think back – our poor, poor neighbours! Gary and the boys would get takeaways and have a beer with Oupa as we no longer resided with him. It was almost a tradition. Yip – I digressed yet again! Now the problem here was – the more sips (glasses or maybe even bottles!!!) of vino I had, the more – I don’t know if any of you have ever watched Robbie Williams Live at Knebworth? You would most certainly have noticed his dancers. They are the most beautiful, sexist ladies – and so the more I had to drink – I would sing along and envision myself transforming from this fat dancing donut into a beeeeaaaauuutttiiiful, sexy gorgeous back up singer and dancer!”

You remember the morning I drove into the back of the garden service? That was after a night out (on video in Jane’s lounge!). So yes, I have been unbelievably blessed through the years – even now I am still very fortunate in winning. Earlier this year my dear friend Jackie rang me frantically the one night – “Have you seen Facebook?” she asked after she had phoned three times! At the time I was cooking dinner. “Nope I have not”. I replied. “Well go look and phone me back!” she said excitedly. Turns out I had won a R5 000 manufacturing voucher from our own proudly, home grown jeweler Violet & Rose for being their most positive and kindest supporter during COVID. I was gob-smacked and over the moon. I had a pendant made with all my specials birthstones – I still treasure it (and wear it always) Melissa Skinner, the owner is the most beautiful soul, with the calmest aura. She went way over budget and never had a sark with it 😊 I love this pendant truly do, it remind’s me each and every day of my specials. Thank you Melissa. My Nellies readers – if ever you need anything designed or even just to buy – make it a definite one stop at Violet & Rose, Ilanga Mall or Crossings 😊.  

About two years back, in fact, it was when Ryan and Michelle got married. We packed our car, and off we tootled to Durban, Chad was at Uni so flew in from Cape Town. After the wedding (we had omitted one very, very important factor when we packed the car to go to Durban – Chad was coming home with us, we also had his luggage – all his clothes, Playstation and, and, and …everything a fine young uni student needs back at home for the holidays!) so I was literally squashed – no jokes – squashed into the back seat, there was “stuff” next to me I could only look out the window on my right. I couldn’t see the driver nor Chad – nor could I see behind me or to the left of me. Yip, it was worse than any transport we have all seen on their way to Mozambique! We stopped at a garage and I bought – shucks what was it now man – um its one word and not published anymore?? Um! Um…..I think it was “essentials”? Ah anyhow the crux of the story is the win not the blady title Dizabeth! So, I sat scrunched up in the back – and there was a competition to win a weekend away for a family of four to Silversands Casino. And yip! Bobs your uncle – I won!!! It was worth every agonizing scrunched up second in the back of the car. We had a ball, Chad took Josh, oh my word it was fancy, fancy, fannnnncccy! Everything was included.

I have also won through default. It was Christmas and Gary had always wanted a Weber. Now if you purchased a certain make of bread from Pick n Pay and dropped your till slip in the little competition box – you had a fair chance of being the lucky winner (as it was a lucky draw – stating the frikken obvious here Dizabeth). The “inconsequential” issue however in this case – there was no competition box! I would traverse to this particular Pick n Pay every frikken day to buy my bread to enter – and everyday there was no sign of the blady competition box – everyday I would enquire – and I do believe in the end the staff – everyday would disperse when they saw me entering the store. No problem I started collecting my till slips – and one fine day I entered the store, marched up to the enquiry desk, like an elephant calf harumphing and mock charging your car in the Kruger. You haven’t seen that – whhhhaaaat? Well, well, dear reader it is something you really don’t want to see! Yikes its frikken scary stuff. Wait till mama bear comes to see what Junior is ha-rumphing about! Jeez O Johnny I cannot explain how one literally sees your whole life playing out in front of you for that split second. And then mama bear ever so casually changes direction and heads into the boondies with baby! Whilst you wonder whether you should continue scrambling through your contacts on your cell for your therapist or decide all is good – you safe till the next blady baby ellie. So I was – actually I was ha-rumping to the store manager about the no competition box issue and… – that’s it – just recalled the actual sequence of events that led to this default win. So, I noticed that the Weber that had been on display for the month was no longer there. That is when I retrieved my pile of till slips and marched to the enquiry desk. Well, after much to-ing and fro-ing they phoned the bread rep – I continued ha-rumphing to him over the phone. After “much to ado about nothing” he asked to speak with the store manager again. The store manager (calmly yet with a definite irritated stance) placed the phone receiver down and asked me to please wait a minute He returned with the “missing” Weber. I was the winner! Now that same blady Weber, still lives on our verandah and the only time it ever sees a fire is when Ryan visits – he is the only one who actually loves to place a chicken in it – I know – who knew! Both Gary and I have won some amazing prizes. From holidays to perfume, weekends away, quad bikes, cutlery and crockery for my crappy kitchens, even televisions and DVD players oh and if I recall I think I did win a Playstation, hm, or did I? The further I write this week the more I recall winning. It is actually incredible how much we have won. It is probaly easier to mention what I/we haven’t won. Gary has even been lucky to win more than pounds once or twice in our lotto.

So in conclusion I (we) have been and continue to be incredibly blessed in winning. In fact not just winning material objects but winning in my life. I have two amazing young men that I am immensely proud of each and every day. An incredible little grandson Tide, who is just the most precious little boy ever. Gary and I have been blessed workwise in these COVID times. We have a really lovely life and are blessed with truly special friends both here and in Durban (around the world in fact).  Guess who digressed again?  So not all my readers are going to be impressed with this I have been pondering all this time whether to confess and decided I am going to confess. I did tend to be a bit of a “fortune teller” stalker in those Van Gogh days. As I mentioned they were very bleak, dark times and I literally chased “the light at the end of our very dark tunnel”. This time I recall the lady saying as she flicked her pack of cards over like a professional poker player and some Goddess was displayed on her card. “The rewards for you are rich”. It would appear she was right. She was correct in the fact that each day we awaken – again I reiterate, especially in these COVID times. Each day we awaken to a new healthy day, a job to go to, to banter with my friends every day, to cooking a dinner every night, to watch the sunset and the sun rise EVERYDAY.

The everyday joys of life. Thank you for our rewards – thank you. Lastly to you my amazingly, encouraging Blog readers – thank you for believing in me and being with me each week as I continue living my dream. I love, in fact cherish tap, tap, tapping away (yes I know I am a bit slack with the publishing of it ☹ ) but I luuuuurrrrrve this blog and I love you all.

Stay safe, be blessed and thank you for believing in me.

Mwah Mwah