I’m a terrible blogger - I avidly follow several blogs and get all bent out of shape when they haven’t updated for awhile and then I realised, the last time I wrote anything on here was the 18th June (I had to look that up) - can’t imagine how my 1 follower must feel…..

Figure the least I can do it write on my birthday…. yup… I’m now 39 (not 40!! as my dear sweet kids keep telling me) - I’m sure somewhere someone has written that life begins at 39. If not consider it written now.. feel free to use it, spread it around - have it tattooed in interesting places.

For those of you who weren’t aware of the recent drama in my life (for some reason drama follows me where ever I go - just when I’ve been lulled into a false sense of harmony, out comes drama and knocks me off my feet) I managed to drive over Bagheera whilst backing out the driveway one morning on my way to work. In case you’re the type who will read the last page of a book first because you can’t stand the suspense of not knowing the ending… Bagheera is fine…. over R7k worth of fine, but we do still have our beautiful kitty.

The knock from the car caused a hernia which the vet had to then operate on, she then spent several days there and was just coming right when she pulled all her stitches out and ended up with a very unseemly hole in her tummy, so back she went for more stitches another night in the hospital and an additional penance…. yup, having to wear the cone of shame for ANOTHER ten days.

She’s clever though - she has this habit of sitting by the food bowl and then makes feeble attempts to eat knowing that I’ll feel sorry for her and remove the cone. We then play this game whereby she eats a bit and then proceeds to try and pull her stitches out… so back on the cone goes, pathetic look and feeble eating attempt, cone comes off….. you get the picture.

We have these very fancy lifts at work… you punch a number in… it tells you which lift to get into and voila it takes you to your floor - well that’s the way it’s supposed to work.

This morning - punch in my floor number, go to designated lift, get in…. doors close, lift starts going up….slight shuddering and then nothing.

Me - *push intercom button* Hello

Intercom - Hello?

Me - The lift is stuck

Intercom - What?

Me - The lift is stuck

Intercom - Push the number for your floor

Me - There are no buttons

Intercom - No buttons?

Me - No buttons

Intercom - No buttons on the right hand side

Me - *slightly exasperated tone* No buttons on the right hand side

Intercom - What floor are you on

Me - Screen says M floor

Intercom - I will call the people to come fix it - they should be here in ten to fifteen minutes

Me - Ok

{some time passes}

Intercom - Hello

Me - Hello

Intercom - You still there?

Me - Yes, can’t exactly go anywhere

Intercom - The people are coming to get you out

Me - Thanks

{some time passes}

Intercom - [different voice] Hello, you still there?

Me - Yes

Intercom - the people are here - you will be out soon

{some times passes}

Intercom - [different voice again] Hello, you still there?

Me - Yup

Intercom - You’re not on the M floor

Me - Oh

Intercom - the people will find you

Me - Oh good

{some times passes}

*lift light goes out for a second and then the lift voice says “please stay clear of the closing doors”*

Me - I’d love to stay clear of opening doors… [sarcasm is lost on lifts]

{some time passes}

Intercom - Hello, you ok

Me - Yup

Intercom - people will get you out soon

{some times passes}

Lift starts making the appropriate noises and I end up back on the ground floor.

I’m starting to ask…. Why Me?

I had just written a lovely long post - informative, witty - little snippets of information and then the pc hung…. and naturally I hadn’t saved any of it. I couldn’t be bothered to try and re-create it… blame a very late night on Tuesday (Masters of the Rock concert… Wouter has a lovely post about it) suffice to say - I knew approximately 5 of the songs througout the entire show…. found it very odd watching ‘ou toppies’ rock on stage with more energy in their one finger than I have in my entire body and thankfully the seats I chose… were in the one place where the noise level wasn’t ear shattering.  I am however still recovering from getting home after one in the morning on a week night.

The rest of the post was devoted to my trip to Jhb where I met the other half of my team (work team that is) and spent the weekend with my brother and his 3 year old son. It was great - even if I did have to listen to Barney and the Tellytubbies being quite sickenly cheerful. I have no idea what it is about that purple dinosaur that enthrals kids so much - my two were just the same at that age…. truth be told I thought I’d escaped that particular torture when my two grew up a bit - I was wrong.

The rest of this post I’m going to devote to pictures taken over the weekend - I’m particular proud of my Kingfisher shot - he’s such a pretty boy.

Hey Dude, where’s my lunch?

I survived my first day at my new company. I came home brain dead (shut up Wouter), exhausted and completely incapable of stringing a coherent sentence together - but I had a blast.  Haven’t a clue who all the people were I was introduced to - then again I left the High Court after sixteen years wondering who some of the people were at my farewell, a fact which didn’t stop them from telling me how much they’re going to miss me or how I’d enriched their lives - meanwhile I’m thinking… wth are you??? (People get a little odd at farewells) As a complete aside… according to everyone at the court - the whole place is going to fall apart the instant I step out the door….. if ever I’m on a low, all I have to do is read their parting words - I’m surprised I wasn’t paid a whole heap more thinking about it - ‘cos according to them, I’m second only to a celestial being.

I’m also in IT heaven now - you should see my pc screen at work… oh my word… saw that and instantly fell in love. It’s ginormous.

However before I completely transfer my allegiance to my new library - indulge me a moment whilst I say goodbye to my old home.

 

And yes, apart from my very first day on the job - this is the neatest my desk ever was.

It really is a beautiful library and I am going to miss it tremendously - but not enough to give up the ginormous pc screen

Reincarnated as a cat. I’m dead serious.

Picture this… Fish Hoek, 2010.

Our heroine is sipping sparkling wine on the couch whilst watching the latest episode of CSI: Las Vegas, an episode filled with drama, angst and particularly creepy  music. She is alone (as is usually the case with these types of incidences) and blissfully unaware of her impending fate. Surprisingly there isn’t a storm raging outside.

She entices her somewhat erratic and notoriously neurotic cat onto her lap for a cuddle. Said neurotic cat, lets call him Gerald (names have been changed to protect the idiot) settles down in only the way a highly neurotic cat can, a mixture of half relaxed and half flee at the slightest provocation.

Our heroine feeling mellow and much love for the world around her reaches down to stroke her feline friend.

*gggggrrrrrwwww*

“Ok! You stupid moron I won’t stroke you” she mutters in dulcet tones whilst sipping slightly more nervously on her drink.

The tension is palpable…….. on CSI - the murderer is about to be revealed and the music grows increasingly more ominous.

Our heroine glances down at her lap and finds this.

His eyes are wild, his body begins to quiver… short shudders reverberate all down his spine. His claws extend and dig into her thighs. He sits up, staring maniacally at her and after a few tense moments where our heroine tries to calm him down by telling him how wonderful he is, he starts to arch his back. He appears to be growing before her eyes, expanding to twice his size, and not in the normal way of puffing up his fur. In a far more menacing - I’m about to leap at your throat - kind of way, and the look in his eye is murder!

In a dramatic bid to save herself from what she perceives as real danger our heroine pushes the wild eyed, crazy beyond a shadow of a doubt fiend off her lap. For the next ten minutes he continues to stare at her from the floor, eyes slightly cross-eyed leaving no doubt in her mind that he is biding his time and hatching another cunning plan to end her life.

I swear my cat hates me.

And lest you think I’m the one who should be called neurotic - this is not the first time Gymmie, erm Gerald has looked like he wants to attack me. For some reason it usually happens when we’re alone and he’s sitting on my lap. I attempt to stroke him - he growls, I leave him alone - something clicks inside his head (you can almost hear the click) and he starts to turn into a cat from hell.

I keep telling my dear, wonderful, thinks I’m paranoid and highly dramatic, husband that one day he’s going to come home to find me lying on the couch in tatters!

On a completely different note somehow I have managed to damage my Latissimus Dorsi Muscle - ‘cos I’m pretty sure when you sneeze or cough - your back shouldn’t feel like it is about to break in two.

Well let me assure you it isn’t traffic. Admittedly this was traffic from Hell…. the type of traffic where you sit and sit and sit, not moving an inch for what seems like ages and just when you think all hope of ever moving has gone…. you sit some more.  This was our situation yesterday driving back from Oudtshoorn - having enjoyed ourselves at the KKNK (more on that later). Suddenly it was All My Fault we were stuck in Worcester not moving a millimeter (let alone an inch). Gmf* Suffice to say my constant nagging to take over the driving paid off - and after awhile… somewhere between Villiersdorp and Franschoek - I had a moderately happy hubby again. (All my fault… se moer)** It may have been a round about way of getting back home but at least it was free flowing all the way.

As for the festival - the few shows we went to see were great. (Again…. all my fault we couldn’t see more - ties in with the having to return home on an Easter weekend - you see…. silly me went and found herself a new job, and as is custom in ANY company - one is not allowed to take leave in one’s final month of work. The fact that the new job will bring much joy, a higher salary and a new lease on life - was apparently not taken into account when we were trapped in Worcester trying to find a way out of the mess. Not to repeat myself…. but GMF!!!)  So, it took us nearly 7 hours to get home and Wouter nigh broke his back sitting in one position the whole way - there were silver linings along the way. We had a lovely lunch at Clarke of the Karoo in Barrydale, I got to read my book and we got to see some fantastic scenery all the way home - especially on the detour we took in order to get home.

But back to the festival…. things were quite a bit different this time. I don’t claim to be an expert on the festival - I’ve only been to around four or five but even I could sense things were different. They’d re-arranged the entire layout of the show and now instead of being able to browse the various stalls at will - one needs to pay an entrance fee of R40. Ok, so the entrance fee does include whatever musical performances are being held at the stage within the cordoned off area,  but if you’re not a Kurt Darren/Theuns Jordaan type fan…. you’re stuffed. There also seems to be fewer people going - I remarked on this last year as well - which is understandable really. It’s expensive, you have the shows at R80-R100 a time, there’s the accommodation, food, entrance fees etc. Still every time we go we enjoy ourselves and I’m sure we’ll be going again - preferably when I haven’t decided to re-invent my career.

*For the uninitiated…. Gmf does not mean something rude with the last word ending in ..ck - it is an expression of disgust…when spoken out loud it has a very satisfying sound. Try it, I’m sure you’ll be using it constantly in next to no time.

**[Afrikaans festivals have a tendency to rub off on one's vocabulary].

competitive kids, even if they’re only competing with themselves. Tamsyn got her school report today - she phoned me completely bummed out by her grades - figures she’s let herself down ‘cos they’re not that good.

Go figure.

On Sunday we had the pleasure of going to a jazz festival held at the Maynardville Open Air Theatre.

 

Little did we know when we said we’d go that Sunday was going to be one of the hottest days Cape Town can remember for a very long time.

Tamsyn had the right idea, it was the only way she could keep cool - she was literally soaked from head to foot by the time she’d finished.

Of course my brother-in-law had a much better idea on how to keep cool.

The music however made up for the heat - it was wonderful. Amanda Tiffin is an extraordinarily talented artist and based on what she and the other performers did on Sunday, we should be damn proud of our local talent.

And I for one am looking forward to seeing the amazing acappella group Not the Midnight Mass again, they were thoroughly entertaining and even in the soaring heat they had the audience laughing and singing along.

The show ended with UCT jazz music students singing a few numbers, by this stage the worst of the heat had passed and everyone was ready for more. Sadly a number of the musicians had other gigs to perform. All in all it was a wonderful afternoon and one I’d recommend to anyone - you don’t even need to be a jazz lover to enjoy it.

Would you look at that sexy beast, isn’t she cute?

Just shows you how excited I was about getting another car (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it - I will deny any allegations made regarding my inability to shake my blonde roots) I dropped Wouter off at his work this morning as we’d arranged for the chap selling us the car to drop it off there. I arrived at his work this afternoon eager as a beaver to drive my car home. Never dawned on me that I could just as well have driven his car home and he mine. I was excited… demmit.  I drove it home - and it didn’t suddenly develop some weird mechanical or electrical fault…. I think I have a winner!

An Opel Meriva 1.6 Enjoy….. here’s to many years of driving bliss.

(For once the bubbly is serving its true purpose - the celebration of a wonderous event)

As an aside - I phoned my insurance company because I haven’t heard from them since the last call where they discovered I couldn’t actually lay claim to a five years no claim bonus, but rather just the three I’d been with them. How was I supposed to know some idiot there decided I’d obviously been insured before and have never claimed and was therefore entitled to the reduced premium.  Anyway, they’re writing some report which they’ll send to me and within that report they’ll tell me how much they are paying out. In the meantime I have had no less than 4 sms’s asking me to rate their service. Excuse me?  You haven’t given me any friggen service ‘cos I’m still waiting for the outcome. Nits!

Late this afternoon I was driving along the M3 listening to Cape Talk when I smelt an odd smell, did a bit more sniffing and the vague thought struck me that it smelt electrical. A few minutes later smoke was coming out the dashboard. Even a complete mechanical idiot like me realised this can’t be right. I put my hazards on and moved across the road to park on the shoulder, a lot more smoke was now coming out. I had visions of the car blowing up around me so I grabbed my handbag and bailed.

Conversation to Wouter went like this:

Me: I think my car is on fire.

Wouter: Oh dear, why?

Me: Smoke’s coming out the dashboard.

So I stood on the side of the road, in the shade of a tree, waiting for Wouter to arrive and watched the smoke fill the car. It’s a bit of a depressing sight really - watching your car deteriorate before your eyes. When Wouter arrived I popped the hood for him to see what was going on, in opening the door the oxygen caused the fire to accelerate, so now we had flames as well as smoke. A quick phonecall to 10111 and the fire brigade were on their way.

Whilst waiting for the fire brigade a friendly good samaritan stopped and gave us his fire extinguisher - Wouter used that but by then it was too late.

A tow truck guy arrived, friendly chap. A volunteer fire fighter arrived, also a friendly chap. Fire medical rescue chaps arrived, again friendly. Eventually the fire engine pitched up (they’d got a little lost… miss-communication) quite a few chaps and a couple of gals, all very friendly.

I stood and watched my car being drowned in water, the dashboard pulled apart and more drowning (see Wouter’s blog for pictures).

*sigh*

R.I.P

P.S. I don’t have any nice pics of the car but thought this one was cute.

Tomorrow is phone the insurance company day.