Monday, September 28, 2009

Shakin knees

You sometimes see it on the television, flicking through the channels. You stumble across golf (never linger there), but there is a man, looking calm and cool in his silly hat and loose trousers and there's a wind blowing. As he's lining up the shot he looks really scared, like his knees are shaking. I wonder if you can hear his trousers snapping in the breeze?

Again, today, I drive past Braeburn School, looking proud and blue, set into the dusty hill and on the open balding field on the other side of the road there are possibly fifty big sturdy men, all in red t-shirts and loose trousers. Drill for a security company I think, but there is a wind flapping about the thin tired trees and dropping down onto the yellow field below. And the fifty men are all looking stern and scary but for their trembling legs.

How can we possibly take them seriously?

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Song Lyrics

A comment on a previous post about misheard song lyrics got me asking around and looking for more. So far we have:

"The ants are my friends, they're blowing in the wind" (instead of the answer my friend, is blowing in the wind. Bob Dylan)
"Excuse me while I kiss this guy" (Excuse me while I kiss the sky. Jimi Hendrix)
"You might as well face it, you're a dick with a glove"
"Bill Oddie, Bill Oddie, put your hands all over my body" (Madonna)
"Lets pee in the corner, lets pee in the spotlight" (REM)
"We three Kings of Aurientah"
"i, sat on the floor, biting my tie,isn't it good, norwegian wood"
"If Man is 5, if Man is 5, Then the devil licks zits" (instead of "the devil is 6" Pixies - Monkey Gone to Heaven)
"I want to be a door" (instead of I want to be adored - The Stone Roses)
"I see you baby, chicken an eggs, chicken an' eggs" (I see you baby, shakin that ass, shakin that ass)

These just tickle me pink. Make me clutch my sides and laugh out loud. Please note this is not LOL or even ROFL. I don't do that. Not now, not as a teenager. Not ever.

So what's your misheard song lyrics?

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Cowboys in my mouth

How weird that last time I wrote a post about going to the dentist, here it was also Ramadan. Anyway, thats by the by. I have discovered a new dentist in town - a Macedonian woman, Dr. T. And I love her! She chats to herself all the way through. "Oooh I can see the nerve! Right there. Don't worry I won't touch it, I am working around it" "Oh, I think I did a good job on this one. Yes, as long as there is no sensitivity after then I think this is a very good filling" "Oh you have too many fillings" etc etc! I have had a run of strange and (not so) wonderful dentists, from 7th day Adventists who practiced on me to the Korean man whose only word was "Pain!" to the Chinese lady who lurves to do root canal. Was chatting to Janelle this morning about the dentists we've seen and I said "Geez, we've really had some cowboys in our mouths, hey? And not in a good way!"

Being a dentist must suck.

What do you think is a worse job - dentist or gynaecologist?

Monday, September 14, 2009

Out for the Count

"Gee I can be slow sometimes", I said to my in-laws as we were walking down the jacaranda lined streets of my cousin's neighbourhood. "I've just realised what out for the count means"
"Yes" said my father-in-law, "its to do with boxing"

Oh. Right. Of course.

I thought it had to do with Count Dracula. As in, out for the Count, so he can have his blood-sucking way with you and even THAT won't wake you up.

Boxing, of course! Makes much more sense!


Friday, September 11, 2009

Baby Group

Okay, I'm telling you this very quietly, out of the corner of my mouth - I go to Baby Group! Yes, thats with capital letters. And I tried to make the writing small but because I am a techno ape I don't know how to do that.

When I used to see the suburbanite yummy mummies gathering to oggle and coo at each others' babies I must admit I used to vomit a little in my mouth. Who knew I was so judgmental. But as a follow on from our childbirth classes we all meet up every Thursday to well...oggle and coo at each others' babies.

Yesterday we lined them all up on the couch and took a picture. A group of goofy looking drooling babies, some of whom still can't even hold their heads up on their own, all propped up on a snazzy leather sofa, with the bar in the background. They looked like a bunch of drunks, spilling over and leaning on each other for support...maybe you had to be there but it was really pretty funny.

Reminds me of that joke of a door-to-door salesman who knocks on someone's door and a small child answers, a foot-long whisky in one hand and a cigar in the other. The salesman says, in patronizing tones, "Hello, are your parents in?"

The kid looks at the whisky and the cigar, then at the salesman and says, "What the fuck do you think?"

Thursday, September 10, 2009


I dreamed that I lived in Hollywood and plastic surgery, boob jobs, hair transplants and the like were called garnish...

uh, okay!

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Black holes

Our first night home from the birthing centre I’m sitting on the very-white couch in my cousin’s house watching tele and suddenly out of the blue-black I’m hit really forcefully in the chest by this thick black heavy….Thing. An I’ve-just-fallen-off-a-ladder-from-a-mighty-big-height feeling. The Dementors are in the room and closing in – and shutting your eyes isn’t going to get rid of them. In a quick strobe lit moment I understand that seemingly bottomless no-way-out despair that would drive one to suicide. And right there in front of me is this deep-deep black hole gaping up at me. I can physically see it. Black tentacles trying to lure me in. And I peer over the edge and know that I cannot go there. A vertigo moment. In the depths of this pit it is so dark that I would not be able to tell if my eyes are open or closed. It terrifies me utterly. I am scared that if I fall in I will never-ever manage to claw myself out of the quicksand. But somehow I back pedal, I reign myself in, stop sobbing, hug the bewildered husband. I am exhausted from the effort.

Generally I am a happy person. I know that some people find this really irritating, but it’s not like I do it on purpose. I’m not a fake-smiley-ra-ra-let’s-be-happy kind of person. (well, maybe a little!) I’m default set to see the positive and I can’t help it. My sister is always telling me I must embrace the dark side of life, leave room for the negative, “what you resist persists” she tells me. I know she has a point, but I find it hard sometimes to dwell on the shit stuff. I’d rather acknowledge it, realize it could be worse and move on. I literally feel icky in my tummy when I focus on the negative. I really can’t bring myself to sweat the small stuff. And I cannot watch footage of dead bodies on the television. It fizzes in my chest and hurts. I do believe that negative attracts negative and vice versa. But yes, it’s the balance one needs to get right I guess. I know, I know, there’s a difference between winging constantly about minor stuff and accepting and learning from Big Bad Things. I like to think I have the balance right but maybe I don’t. I think sometimes its hard to get perspective on your own life.

So anyway, the question is, if that black hole comes calling for me again, do I let myself fall in, explore the depths? Or do I dig in my heels and give it the finger? Do I turn tail, dragging my head through the sand as I go? Or do I indeed have any control over it all?

Friday, September 4, 2009

2 months

So I kinda said to myself that I wouldn't post pictures of our daughter on this blog, but really, how can I resist sharing this pic with you, taken a couple of weeks ago....

and two months old today, ooooh boy time goes fast e? Next thing I know I'll have to share my baby cereal with her (I LOVE baby cereal), will be driving her to to school and grounding her for looking at boys. Nyahahahaha! People even say I'll be a grandmother before I know it but time can't go THAT fast surely?

Two months ago today I'd been in labour for 32 hours, had vomited in the lobby of the shiny new birthing centre, said "FUCK, oh sorry, don't mean to swear" more times than I can count and pushed a pretty large person through a pretty small hole. And then sat there for the next two months marvelling at how all this was actually possible. How could I produce such a perfect creature? (oh with a few nappy changes and feeds in between)

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Mysterious animals

Hmmm, now that I've promised y'all some old pics I'm at a loss of which ones to share. They're not too boring are they? Okay, I'll post these three, they're not very clear but quite sweet I think. Of our cat, Mouse stalking and pouncing on our duiker Biltong.

Looong ago.

Biltong used to communicate with rabbits, you see. One of the years when we had Biltong we were going to be away for Easter. I was distraught that the Easter Bunny would come and find us gone. So my mother tied a note to Biltong's neck informing the Easter Bunny that we'd be away to and please delay his arrival by a few days. Biltong went off and came back later with the note gone. And lo and behold the day we got back the Easter Bunny came and left us some choccie eggs.

Like I say, it was looong ago!