Saturday, November 30, 2013


Can't believe it's the 1st December tomorrow - next weekend marks the anniversary of our first year in the UK, who wudda thunk it?  So how do I feel, really?

Yes, I miss family - this is a big issue but not insurmountable.  The fact that we are going to SA in February is a plus and something to look forward to, even though it will be over so quickly - we are only going for just under two weeks, no time at all really.  It will be extremely hard to say goodbye to people again when we leave, even harder for me because I will have spent some time with my new grandson and gotten to know him a little bit (I hope).   

I think I've also come to the realisation that it won't be any time soon for the rest of my family to join us here in Blightey.  My ideal about that was unrealistic, thinking back and I was somewhat naive to think that my sons and daughter would follow us to the UK once we were 'settled'.  Even though they all said that this would happen, I don't think it's going to be.  It's painful to think about this, so both H and I don't - as much as possible.  Maybe we are wrong (but I doubt it) and they all say in February how they are planning to get over to the UK.  I hope that is the case but I'm not holding my breath.

So what does that mean?  Well it means that we are really on our own here in the UK and have to get on with life to the best of our ability.  We are making plans for next year and changes that we want to make - like perhaps getting better paid jobs and even looking at buying our own property.  Purchasing your own place definitely helps you put down roots, psychologically and physically and it's something that both H, K and I want to do - although K is still (I suppose rightly) cautious. It's good to have a cautious person in our midst, makes us do our homework. 

The kids are settling into school life here and we all believe that they are doing better than they would be if they'd remained in SA.  E, for definite, wouldn't be progressing at the rate he is doing now - he wouldn't even be at school yet for another year I think if we'd stayed in SA!   F is doing really well, she's making friends and joining in social activities, like Brownies, roller-skating, after school clubs - we need to fill up her days a little more and will work on this in the New Year, especially her desire to go to Drama school.

The impenetrable Norfolk womenfolk are starting to warm up to me and K remarked the other day, when he was off work waiting for his car to be serviced and we'd spent some time in the Co-op getting lunch, that I seemed to know everybody in Long Stratton!   This doesn't happen in South Africa.  Even though you meet other mummies at school every day, you very rarely bump into them during your daily routines.  Whenever H and I went shopping, we never spoke to anyone - not neighbours, nobody.   But here in this little village, you can walk down the road at any time of the day or night and there's sure to be some face that you recognise, or some person who will say hello in passing.  I already know about five mums quite well, we've been invited to a couple of social events at different venues by the mums I know. F has already been invited for tea or lunch at different kids' places - people are actually very kind here, it just takes time to get into the swing of it and understand how the Brits do stuff.

I am working on improving my art all the time (something I wasn't really getting the chance to do in SA), even though I haven't found a place to market it, I will do, I know I will.  My writing is coming along and I'm working on several projects on that front also, that I WILL publish in 2014.  I have had a good long talk to myself about the transcript typing work - it's got four more months to ship up, if it hasn't doubled in turnover by then, it's going in the dumpster and I'm having a go at something else.  My new mantra in life is 'believe in yourself' and 'have confidence'.  I'm tired of being a slave to negative thoughts.

Untitled Abstract - Water Soluble Oils. Medium sized stretched canvas.

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Finished on a high

Yep, got to 50,200 words  ... I'm a weener. So I suppose that's good (or not, depending which side of the fence you are sitting on).  I finished the bit I was writing tonight and it's pretty appropriate, I think, that it was about YOU.  Of course, you haven't posted anything on yer blog for a couple of years, doesn't matter, I feel like I came full circle.   Thank you, my friend.

So onward and upward - at least now I know what 50K+ words looks like, feels like - it's no big deal, honestly.  No blisters here.

Sunday, November 17, 2013

You made a pigs ear ...

So I'm up to 30,000 words on the Nanowrimo thingie - going strong. Still got a shirt load more stuff to get off my chest but I'm quite proud of myself, pretty sure I'll finish and this thing will form the basis of an actual book.

Yes, I know this is old. I know it's been heard before. I know I'm a fool for Radiohead and not everybody else is.  But god, this is the best song Thom Yorke has ever made - the chord change at about 1.38 in, is just complete and utter genius.  This is what sets this band apart from everyone else on the planet, they do things with chord, rhythm structure that hasn't been done since the great classical composers of yore. Oh I love Thom Yorke to bits - pity he sounds like such a miserable git, most of the time hey? :) 

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

stuff and rubbish

Well so far I'm up to 11,000 words or thereabouts.  I've got as far as the start of my life in South Africa, so not bad going I suppose.   Some things are easy to write about but I know that later on, it's going to get tough.

The weather is a bit glum and I seem to have some kind of bug that's gnawing at my throat and upper chest, so am going to see the good NHS doctor tomorrow - he's an Indian fellow, don't particularly like him as he's one of these guys who just gives a perfunctory inspection of your ears, throat and chest, then prescribes some god awful, completely useless pain killer and maybe an antibiotic.  I suppose that's all I need hey? but I do so long for over-medication!   Har har.  We are going back to SA in February, have booked our tickets on trusty old BA and whilst there I have started a bit of a shopping list of things I need to bring back:

1. Myprodol - about 60 or if possible two packs of 60.
2. MedLemon - also quite a few sachets, or boxes would be good.
3. Fat clothes - duh - well blouses that actually fit me - from the place I always go to in Boksburg.  UK clothing is a bit weird, most of it's for teensy weensy little Chinese chicks and everything's 'CLINGY'.  The Brits love their skin tight jersey/lycra dresses and tops, with the fat rolls oozing out in all directions.

Speaking of clothes in the UK, I wonder if tights are just a UK phenomenon, or if they are as prevalent in other parts of the world?  Every chick here (almost - generalisation in this case is justified) wears fucking tights.  Doesn't matter what size their arses/thighs are, or how much camel toi they have to thrust out.  We see some real beauts here.  It's bloody disgusting, I think.  Most of the time, the tights that these chicks wear are old, so they are worn and stretched out of shape, which means that you can see through them.  99 per cent of the time, they don't bother to wear underwear, or if they do, you can clearly see the G-string creeping up their backside. Seas of rumpling cellulite waddling down the road are the norm.  There are major elephants living in our area, rolling down the road with their tights and skinny tops on that don't cover the bum hole and camel toe, bulges bursting out of the bulges.  Yuch!   They should fuckin' ban tights on women. Even skinny chicks can look god awful wearing them, TIGHTS DO NOT FLATTER the female body, people!

As you were.

Friday, November 1, 2013


I decided the easiest thing for me to write for Nanowrimo at the moment, is a memoir.  It just pours out anyway, so not much work to do.  What I can't remember, tough shit.  What I remember wrong, ditto - it's my memoir, so if anyone in my family can remember it better, then they can write their own version, yes?
Sat down, stared at a blank white MS Word screen, got an attack of the jitters. Looked out the window and just started to type stuff.  Remembered stuff.  And it now appears that the memoir, as it is, has decided that I am writing this for my mother - which isn't such a bad thing, I suppose. 3 thousand words in - 47,000 to go.

No problem.  Piece of old takkie