A letter to my beautiful

Dear Beautiful,

I am sorry for neglecting you.
I apologise for leaving you locked up in my cupboard at work where you have even grown a light blanket of dust.
I also have to say that I am sorry for cheating on you with my work colleague - she may be smaller, lighter and more glamorous looking in silver, but nothing compares to your quality.
The excuse that you have become admin and a mission to take with me is not fair - I knew this when we got together.
And for the shear amount that you cost me, I should be making better use of you, taking advantage of all your talents.
I also need to show my appreciation and improve my own skills, to further utilise your talented features.
I therefore pledge that this weekend, you will be my constant companion - I will play, experiment and enjoy you to the utmost - and I hope that I will be able to reap the rewards.

Once again, I'm sorry. Please forgive me Canon SX20IS.

A dialogue worth discussing

  By Jonathan Jansen - courtesy of Times Live

---

Sipho: "As an old buddy from the struggle, I have to confess to a major decision that I have made with respect to the upcoming elections. Now that COPE has shot itself in both feet as a legitimate black alternative, I have decided to vote for the DA."

---

I also want a party that is anti-racist

Nosipho: "You bloody swine. I always doubted you. Don't you remember the struggles we went through together? You were the one who used to tell me that Zille is too much of a white madam that reminds you of what your father went through as a domestic at the hands of those Rondebosch madams in Cape Town. Now you sell out?"

Sipho: "Eish, slow down, comrade. I listened to Helen's speech in Soweto the other day, where they launched their Election Manifesto. And while it was too cerebral for the poor - people want to hear calls for machine guns, songs that sound like 'kill the boer' and how an ANC vote gets you through the pearly gates - you simply could not argue with the facts: the DA is much more efficient than the ANC in delivering to the people on the ground. It's not just Cape Town but wherever the DA controls a municipality, like the one in the Eastern Cape, they make a difference in the lives of human beings."

Nosipho: "Okay, maybe you've got a point there, but I want a party that is not only concerned about those liberal values like a strong constitution, free enterprise and clean government. I also want a party that is anti-racist, and that speaks out against racial atrocities in the country on a regular basis. That you don't get from the DA - all they harp on about is corruption, corruption, corruption. What about poverty? All they do in Parliament is to find fault. Did you ever once hear the DA praise the ANC-led government for what it is doing? No. Like those old madams of Rondebosch and Parktown, they still teach their domestics to live by two rules only. Rule No 1, madam is always right. Rule No 2, if madam is wrong, see Rule No 1."

Sipho: "Com, I don't think you're being fair to constantly portray the DA as a white party of madams and bosses. Look at those beautiful pictures along the country's lampposts. Three women - one white, one coloured, one African. Has the ANC ever had this picture of gender equity in its top ranks? You know as well as I do that Trevor Manuel will never become President, but people like Jimmy Manyi will score every time."

Nosipho: "You seem to have a short memory, broer. The people who suffered most in this country were Africans. That is why the movement is clear that the struggle was about 'Africans in particular'. Did Zille ever carry a dompas, or Patricia, for that matter? So it is our time to eat, and it is far too early to see a white woman running this country after they ran South Africa for centuries. No, dammit, don't you have any self-respect as a black man?"

Sipho: "I understand where you're coming from. In fact, you sound like this columnist who wrote a very honest confession in one of the Sunday papers. He made the point that whites in the DA still look like the people who oppressed him, and that he cannot do otherwise than "to vote with his scars." But what does that mean? That a black government can treat its people with contempt - as in Zimbabwe or the Ivory Coast - and still be guaranteed support for its leaders simply because of their struggle credentials? Is this not racist to in fact argue that black people cannot think beyond their skin, and that we make decisions only on the basis of our emotions?"

Nosipho: "No, no, I am not saying that. What I am saying is that your experience informs your decisions. You are asking me to wipe out memory and to buy into this reconciliation nonsense when I still see that the majority of the poor are black, that whites have given up very little since 1994."

Sipho: "True, but whose fault is that? It is your party that dominates the government, and that did little to change the situation for the poor. You have not convinced me. I am off to vote for the DA. But first I need to find Shilowa and Lekota to give them a hard kick up their bloody backsides."

Deal or no deal?

I admit that I may have a new addiction and time-consuming way to spend my day which should otherwise be dedicated to writing/ organising and all things editory.

Social buying networks.

The first one I came across was

 wicount which had me gawking at the number of awesome (and for the most part unnecessary) deals I could get my hands on - spa treatments, half price meals, bungee jumping, romantic getaways, golf lessons...the list seems to be endless. And there is no better way to ease into a day at the office than sipping on some Frisco and checking out what could hypothetically be mine.

And then I found Ubuntu Deal. So another newsletter to prolong the coffee break and more deals to drool over.

And then things started going crazy - a friend recommended I join My City Deal (which turns out to be part of Groupon since January) She also got 'cash' in her wallet for recommending me (smart!!)....and then yesterday I came across a whole lot more from a simple search on the web. Take a look:

- Twangoo

- Ubuntudeal

- Dealio

- 24 Hours Only

- OneDayOnly

- WiCount

- SaleWine

- GroupBuying

- My City Deal

- CollectiveCow

- Skoop

- VuvuPlaza

- Justenga

- alldeals

And yes I may or may not have joined them all....perhaps.

The concept is fantastic: A massive discount is offered on a product / service e.g. half price manicure - if you want the deal you 'buy' the deal [you need to enter your credit card details in your account details...privacy assured of course] and only when enough people have 'bought' the deal is it 'on' and your account is debited with the amount. You then get sent a voucher number and use that to book / pay for your manicure.

At least I can say that I am currently only at browsing status due to a tragic financial status (at this moment I wait expectantly for the ping of my phone to tell me that my salary is in my account!). My only real experience is 'buying' the Voucher at Global Wrapps...which was completely free...for Wicount's birthday. Still need to claim my R70 wrap & smoothie....yum.

But as soon as my financial status improves (come on ping!) I fear that spending on these unnecessary but delightful things (and I do have a couple of friends with birthdays coming up.....) will reach new heights.

So I better learn some self-control quick...or else I won't even have any petrol to get to my romantic weekend away at that game reserve....

Quote of the week

There's a world of difference between a person who has a big problem, and a person who makes a problem big 

 ~ John Maxwell

So stop making mountains out of molehills Missy!

Wedding lessons

Pretty sash on the chairs in the venue chapel, the ribbon alternated between this, pink and white (just like the invitation colours!) Simple, yet stylishly pretty!

1. Don't rely on the weather - and if it pours, make the best out of it by having your official photos in pink gumboots...quirky!
2. But do warn guests that they will be travelling on a dirt road (luckily we left our Ferrari at home!)
3. Don't overdo the speeches - seriously! Best man, father of the bride and groom - the end!
4. Buffet style dinner is the way to go!
5. Gift registries do make life easier for guests - but bear in mind people's pockets!
6. Cash bars just make a lot of sense - but perhaps subsidising the beers and cidars is quite a good idea too!
7. More champagne on the tables is always appreciated by your guests :) else they might resort to stealing!
8. Have fun with your guests - dancing, drinking and sharing the special time together is what it's all about. And hats off to the bride & groom still in the bar when we left at 2am!
9. Simplicity is always the winner - your wedding shouldn't be a competition!
10. Being at weddings makes you think of your own....thank goodness I've got time and plenty more weddings to go to and learn from!

Finding of the week

A banana, covered in a sprinkling of cinnamon...tastes remarkably like a banana & cinnamon pancake, without the pancake.
i.e all the taste, none of the fat!
Plus, The Office cafe is a much cheaper place to get your coffee than the BP down the road :)

I spent my morning break enjoying a banana pancake at The Office cafe!

10 things I learnt this weekend...

Disclaimer: Not my mansion - pic from the web

1. You are NEVER too old to play like a kid. A gladiator slide into the pool means hours and hours of fun - bouncing, diving and splashing!
2. Just because it's the weekend doesn't mean you HAVE to go out to supper - it is perfectly nice to eat a home-cooked Friday night dinner (not to mention the dance your purse is doing at the time!)
3. Don't take families for granted - and I'm so glad that I get along well with my 'in-laws'....else it would have been a very awkward weekend!
4. I am proudly South African and I don't think I've ever been so stressed over a sports match as the last 100 balls of the SA v India Cricket World Cup game on Saturday. We chocked them!
5. Sleeping on a couch is not so bad once in a while, 2 nights in a row...not so much!
6. Bear Grylls is an idiotic overdramatic pommie.
7. Dreading going to work the next week is a waste of time and energy during the weekend.
8. Sunday afternoons are blissful when spent lazing around a sparkling blue pool with the Sunday Times and good company.
9. Joburg Bot Gardens and Emmarentia Dam is beautiful - a little piece of country life hidden away in the busy-ness of the city. A congregation of people of all ages and cultures enjoying the beautiful afternoon.
10. Giving up chocolate and sweets and all things cakey is hard enough....especially when you can't enjoy a piece or two of mint chockie as you settle in to bed for a Sunday night movie!

A weekend in pictures

Friday afternoon traffic is never a pretty thing...especially when you're moving at 10km/h. But I guess it does give me time to think about the week that has just finished and start looking forward to the weekend; a sort of transition period. And then you get a car alongside you like this one that just makes you smile. Proudly South African all the way!

Ran my first Half Marathon! 21 gruelling kilometres up way too many hills but we made it. Definitely could have trained more - after 12km,  knees and ankles were battling! But crossing that finish line (despite knowing that quite a few marathoners had already doubled our distance and passed us!) was amazing. As was seeing Curly's smiling face and his handing me Repril gel to rub on my legs! Hooray! And now we've even gone as far as to sign up to a running club so that we are fully licenced runners with real club vests (as opposed to the 'girls in purple' we've been at the others. I guess that means we need to sign up to some more races?!

Ah, drinking games. Kings may be the most overplayed of them all but it remains one of the most fun. What started off as a chilled Friday braai got a little debaucheris when, after a few rule cards, we were all speaking Afrikaans and trying not to show our teeth. Not PC at all considering the recent outcry over Nkuli's Cape Coloured column...or Jimmy Manyi's comment about the overpopulation of them in the Western Cape and Trevor Manual's open letter of disgust...but it was a helluva funny evening nonetheless!

Ah, the McFlurry. It just tastes so good!  So all I wanted in the world was a McFlurry and my white expanse of bed to collapse on. Which I duly did and was fast asleep by 9pm. Wonderful weekend!

Open letter to cheating men everywhere

Why!?!
Why do you always have to turn out to be a bastard?
A man who gets bored of what he has (no matter how beautiful, loving, kind, generous and good the woman is) and go after the unknown 'Just Because You Can'?
You find someone young (young enough to be your daughter dammit!!!)
Or of a different race or culture (looking for more curry on the menu were you?!)
Or someone further away (because long distance works? Out of sight out of mind? Absence makes the heart grow fonder?)
How dare you sacrifice the happiness of another, the protected and warm home of your child, all for the sake of a quick shag and a few sexy smses/bbms in the night?
Seriously! You are willing to throw away the love of a good woman for the sake of the thrill of the chase and the explosive (albeit temporary) climax of passion. Enjoyed for that brief moment....until your heavy necklace of guilt once again tightens around your neck.
Good. I feel nothing.
So don't try garner any pity from me.
Just because you lost your job and needed to feel like a man, or haven't dealt with issues with your dad and needed to gain control elsewhere, or because you're addicted to sex or weren't getting enough at home.
You are pathetic. And a coward.
No my hat - and utmost respect - goes to 'your' woman who tells you to get out of HER house (she was paying for your lifestyle remember) or packs her bags and moves into a crappy little flat in town and away from the home she has built up over 20 years.
She is the one with the power, the courage and the BALLS to take control of her own life and happiness.
She was only staying with you for the kids anyway, you bastard.
Now you've lost them too.

People like this give you hope

My South Africa is not the angry, corrupt, violent country whose deeds fill the front pages

Mar 9, 2011 11:28 PM | By Jonathan Jansen  (published on Times Live)

---

Jonathan Jansen: My South Africa is the working-class man who called from the airport to return my wallet without a cent missing.

Citizens keep the country together through kindness

It is the white woman who put all three of her domestic worker's children through the school that her own child attended. It is the politician in one of our rural provinces, Mpumalanga, who returned his salary to the government as a statement that standing with the poor had to be more than words. It is the teacher who worked after school hours every day during the strike to ensure her children did not miss out on learning during the public sector stay-away.
My South Africa is the first-year university student in Bloemfontein who took all the gifts she received for her birthday and donated them, with the permission of the givers, to a home for children in an Aids village. It is the people hurt by racist acts who find it in their hearts to publicly forgive the perpetrators. It is the group of farmers in Paarl who started a top school for the children of farm workers to ensure they got the best education possible while their parents toiled in the vineyards. It is the farmer's wife in Viljoenskroon who created an education and training centre for the wives of farm labourers so that they could gain the advanced skills required to operate accredited early learning centres for their own and other children.
My South Africa is that little white boy at a decent school in the Eastern Cape who decided to teach the black boys in the community to play cricket, and to fit them all out with the togs required to play the gentleman's game. It is the two black street children in Durban, caught on camera, who put their spare change into the condensed milk tin of the white beggar. It is the Johannesburg pastor who opened up his church as a place of shelter for illegal immigrants. It is the Afrikaner woman from Boksburg who nailed the white guy who shot and killed one of South Africa's greatest freedom fighters outside his home.
My South Africa is the man who goes to prison for 27 years and comes out embracing his captors, thereby releasing them from their coming misery. It is the activist priest who dives into a crowd of angry people to rescue a woman from a sure necklacing. It is the former police chief who falls to his knees to wash the feet of Mamelodi women whose sons disappeared on his watch; it is the women who forgive him in his act of contrition. It is the Cape Town university psychologist who interviews Prime Evil in Pretoria Central and comes away with emotional attachment, even empathy, for the human being who did such terrible things under apartheid.
My South Africa is the quiet, dignified, determined township mother from Langa, Cape Town, who straightened her back during the years of oppression and decided that her struggle was to raise decent children, insist that they learn, and ensure that they not succumb to bitterness or defeat in the face of overwhelming odds. It is the two young girls who walked 20km to school every day, even through their matric years, and passed well enough to be accepted into university studies. It is the student who takes on three jobs, during the evenings and at weekends, to find ways of paying for his university studies.
My South Africa is the teenager in a wheelchair who works in townships serving the poor. It is the pastor of a Kenilworth church, where his parishioners were slaughtered, who visits the killers and asks them for forgiveness that he was a beneficiary of apartheid. It is the politician who resigns from her politics on conscientious grounds, giving up status and salary because of objection in principle to a social policy of her political party. It is the young lawyer who decides to dedicate his life to representing those who cannot afford to pay for legal services.
My South Africa is not the angry, corrupt, violent country whose deeds fill the front pages of newspapers and the lead items on the seven o'clock news. It is the South Africa often unseen yet powered by the remarkable lives of ordinary people. It is the citizens who keep the country together through millions of acts of daily kindness.
My South Africa is the people listed in the stories above. They are real. I know them. They give me hope.

Treat Tin

This is my new Treat Tin, as part of my plan to stop eating nonsense - sweets (any kind - sour, gummy, sucky...all yum!); Hot Chocolate from BP (difficult when you drive past it everyday) and other diet no-nos like chocolate (a constant in my room) and the occasional Coke (which I rationalise as being necessary for energy and to finish the magazine...even though there's free coffee right downstairs!).
Apart from the dietary needs, I rather hope to save money in the process....which all these little indulgences end up costing every month!


So here's the plan - every time I crave one of the above mentioned treats, I have to put the money I would have spent on it into the tin. At some point in the distant future, I am allowed to open up the lid, count all my savings and purchase something - anything - that is not food.
I have already entered my first temptation - R7 for the Coke that I felt was necessary to get me through Friday.

Disclaimer: It's not that I am trying to make life any less sweet by 'denying' myself these things - they are just becoming a way too often occurrence that needs to be cut down dramatically - for the sake of my love handles and purse!

Chocolate Volcano

So my first attempt at a chocolate cake for a LONG time turned out pretty well - and very delicious.

The occasion: Digsmate Sue's 30th birthday

Recipe: pretty standard - 5 eggs separated; 2 cups flour; 1 1/2 cups white sugar; 4 tsp baking powder, pinch of salt, 1/2 cup cocoa, 1 cup oil

Obstacle 1: No mixer - that means that "beat egg whites until stiff peaks form" becomes rather a challenge - however the power of a whisk in my hand and some added help from Sam, I was able to achieve the desired peaks. This definitely added to the light fluffy texture of the mixture after it was "folded in"

Obstacle 2: No measuring cups or spoons - not such a problem as I don't ever stick to quantities but rather go by what I feel - which was a good thing in the baking powder case where after three teaspoons it was definitely enough

Obstacle 3: Realised only after I'd taken out the cakes from the oven - The baking tins. My mom's tins had those levers that you slide after the cake has cooled and it breaks the seal between the cake and bottom of the tin. These ones do not.
Also, ignoring the recipe's request to use wax paper at the bottom (I mentioned that I don't follow instructions right?) - and it turns out we didn't have any anyway - lead to a rather crumbly and very nearly broken half of a cake. Luckily I was wise enough to let the other half cool down completely and firm up before using a spatula and easing it out - whole!

Icing: 200g butter creamed with 200g icing sugar (by hand and wooden spoon - I fear my left bicep may be slightly bulgier today!) and then mixed with 200g melted chocolate (I went for Cadbury's Top Deck and melted it over boiling water on the stove). I also added some cocoa and coffee mixed with a little boiling water to get a darker, chocolatier, coffier colour and taste.

Decorating: The crumbly half went on the bottom and I smeared the icing over, placed the other pretty half on top and set about covering the whole thing with yummy icing - turned out to be quite tricky with crumbly bottom half falling all over the place!

Decorated it with two pink flowers from the garden (and got shouted at by Pinky for stealing from his beloved flower bed) and some pink Smarties (the entire box was pink, I didn't pick out just the pink ones Davo).

And Voila! Hoff gave it the final touch by adding a sparkler and then it was set down in front of the birthday girl.

Verdict: Absolutely delicious! Chocolate Volcano was a success!

But next time I will invest in some wax paper!

Bon Appetit! Note the off centre placement to indicate volcano tremors (planned of course!)

Tour de Melrose

The final result

Had an awesome Saturday afternoon gallivanting around my neighbourhood on a scooter dressed up like a disco diva....all part of Tour de Melrose.
Tour de Melrose was organised by digsmate in order for all the digses in the area to get to know each other...and of course, an excuse to dress up, play games and drink too much!
Stage 1 was a civilised croquet, boulle and Pimms afternoon at the girls' digs....a chance for everyone to meet and greet, enjoy a cup cake and bang a mallet and all and all ease into the afternoon.
After a slight smattering of drizzle, which did nothing to dampen the mood, we all had to set off for Destination 2.
It must have made a hilarious picture to see 30 people riding scooters, skateboards, plastic toy motor bikes, trolleys and even a wheelchair around Melrose.
Destination 2 = the Pink Digs (which is not actually pink at all it turns out) was time for boat races with a Brutal bomb, a bit of table tennis and more chatting. Sadly partner and I lost the match and our punishment was downing  jelly baby flavoured straight vodka. yum. not so much.
By this time, everyone very merry and we headed to Wanderers to catch some of the Super 15 rugby...unfortunately the bar we chose had no dstv so after a quick drink we headed down to Acropolis for the Final Destination.
Hot dogs, human jenga and dancing in the bar ensued......lasting, for me, until about 9pm when I snuck upstairs for a power nap...got busted by a phone call from Curly...and proceeded to go to sleep for real.

An awesome awesome afternoon...and perhaps I shall remember one or two of the peeps I meet for next time.
A trolley of empty bottles and a motor bike or two still stands outside our front door. Good times.