So Close

Like a prostitute on payday

Campers, I am so sorry about the terrible inattention I have focused on my blog of late. I feel like I’ve invited to you come for dinner at my house and I’ve spent the entire evening on the phone sorting out various emergencies.  Necessary perhaps, but annoying, disappointing and leaving you rather inclined not to visit again for a while. I thank you for your patience and ask that you hold on to that for a bit longer because May is a revolting month for me. I am busier than a whore at a World Cup. Which is why I haven’t yet answered your email that you sent to me AGES ago. Terribly sorry! I promise I’ve read it, and as soon as I get a chance, I will reply.  I hate being so tardy, but the demands are many and the time, she is few.

So, with that out the way, let me give you a little update on the various bits and pieces that make up my life.

I am currently at a cruising altitude of 30,000 feet above sea level, hungover, sleep deprived and on my way home after a hectic celebratory event last night. The event was the culmination of months of hard work on a big project I have been working on. I flew up at sparrows fart yesterday morning to help set it all up and by the time the actual event happened, my feet were killing me and I had a splitting headache. Not that it stopped me from doing my thang on the dance floor in a wine induced haze of pre 1999 dance moves. Hello Moderation, my name is Tertia. I don’t think we’ve met before?

Besides the day job, our Egg Donor business is going SO SO well. I am absolutely LOVING it. Plus I am really good at it, which makes me feel all warm inside. Every time I help a recipient it feels like I am helping a little bit of my old infertile self. Of course, I, we, still have to face our first negative, which will happen, but I don’t even want to think about that now. Like Scarlett O’Hara, I will think about that tomorrow.

Next, the kids: Kids are fine. I need to do a full update on them, but here are the headlines:

Kate: Cheeky as hell, has an opinion on everything, knows better about everything, loves her mommy dearly and is now sleeping in her brothers room.

Adam: MUCH better in terms of the sensory stuff. We seem to have it under control at the moment. Doing really well at school, although every morning we still have: “hold me Mom, just hold me for a bit”. Wakes up at night every now and then but much, much better.  I don’t sleep next to him at all anymore and he is quite happy to have his sister sharing a room with him. You can say “I told you so” if you like.

The Pets: Shelly is a different dog since Peter has died, it’s weird. When Peter was around, Shelly was very snappy. She wasn’t really interested in us at all; all she wanted to do was play and fight with Peter. She used to growl and nip at the kids. But since Peter has gone, she has become a much happier and cheerful, much more patient, much friendlier. She is still completely destroying our garden and annihilating every toy foolishly left outside, but she has softened into a really sweet dog. Even Bruno has warmed up a few degrees from steely disapproval to grudging tolerance. On that note, I have got to have Shelly spayed soon because every since Bruno lost his virginity last year (late starter, only recently went straight), he has become a sex maniac and tries to hump everything that moves.  SHE’S A PUPPY YOU PERVERTED BASTARD! Sies!

Next, The Errant Embryo: Not entirely sure what is happening there as I haven’t had time to go for a repeat beta or scan. Terrible Muriel. How times have changed. But I assume all is as it should be because TEN farking days later, the fat lady is still farking singing.

And last, but not least: The Husband. The husband is well and amazingly enough, not really even irritating me that much. This is especially significant if one considers that we spent 9 (nine) whole days together. I am even having fond thoughts towards him. Think I will keep him around for a while longer. (Please note: Like the weather in Cape Town, this might change with no warning at all, and sunshine and roses could quickly change into storm clouds and thunder. Travellers are advised to pack suitable all weather gear)

Well, that’s it. My eyes look like pissholes in the snow and my mouth tastes like something died in it, but besides that, I am very, very well. I hope you are too.

Because I am a little scared of my sister

Even though *I* am the first born and therefore should be the boss of everything, the truth is that I am the boss of nothing and not a single one of my siblings is scared of me. In fact they all boss me around.  I lost my position of authority somewhere between age 8 and age 9, never to be reclaimed again.

So, because I am a little scared of Sister Mel, and because I am feeling really, really sorry for her (her bag was snatched recently, she lost everything! And she can't even use swear words. Luckily I can, so I called her yesterday and said 'fuck fuck fuck' on her behalf), I just spent the last 30 minutes doing a poll for her and fixing a post on her blog. Even though I am so busy I want to vomit.  But she promised that if I did it for her, and she won the 'letter of the month' in next month's Femina she would give me the prize.  If the prize was a dog or a perm.  I don't need the perm as I have naturally confused hair, but I am short of one dog.

So please pop over to her blog and appreciate the fruits of my labour. She is asking for your opinion on the FLDS drama that has recently unfolded in the States.  I am ashamed to say that I knew nothing about any of it until I read her post.  But then again, my head is reeling with absolute horror at the terribly tragic story that has come out of Austria.  So much sadness and so innocent victims in all of this, especially all the children.  Terribly sad.

Read Mel's post here

Foot wrinkles

 I was chatting to Sister Mel on the weekend and we were talking about getting older. Aging, to be more precise. Sister Mel was saying that she wondered at what age / stage do you get to the point where you view the signs of your physical aging as matter of fact rather than with a tinge (or sometimes ‘wave’) of regret.

I said to Sister Mel that I think I am getting there. I am not quite there yet (where the fark did that middle aged spread come from??  Get thee away from me, you evil incarnate!), but I am getting there.  I look at my ageing hands and feet with almost wondrous disbelief. I can’t believe these are my feet. 

You know how when you are younger and you bend your ankle, the skin on your foot squishes up and then when you straighten your foot again, the skin all snaps back into shape without a line or a wrinkle? Well the skin on my foot is starting to look permanently squished. I have foot wrinkles. 

Ageing is a bitch. I don’t like getting older, I don’t like getting squishier, but I am starting to accept that it is inevitable and I might as well get used to it. It doesn’t mean I am going to start wearing oversized floral polyester blouses, but it does mean that I am going to think ‘so bloody what if my waistline is a bit thicker, I am almost bloody 40 you know’. 

I don’t want to be a frumpy middle-aged hausfrau, but even as much as I admire the woman, I can’t see myself working as hard as someone like Madonna does as I get older. I’d rather be a little squishy and have that glass of wine (or two), than be super toned and fabulously fit but living on bean sprouts and watercress.

So the answer to Mel’s question seems to be 39,5 years old. Or there about.

When you see the physical signs of ageing on your body, how do you feel? Would you rather be more hausfrau than Madonna, or are you going to fight the foot wrinkles for as long as you can? And don’t give me the politically correct answer; tell me what you really think. 

(As I had my foot in my sister's face, pointing out my foot wrinkles, my father came past and said that he has no idea what we are talking about as he has perfectly lovely youthful feet.  Thank god the man's eyesight isn't what it used to be because if I have wrinkles, the man has crevices the size of the Grand Canyon. I'm just saying.)
 

Twitter for dummies

Let it be said I’m a bit of an Internet slut. I’ll try anything once. But most of the stuff on the Net is either too complicated, completely pointless, a waste of time or it has a small willy. And my time is too precious to waste on any of the above. There are however, some things that captivate me and keep me interested long enough to keep coming back for more. Blogging is clearly one of them. Thousands of blogs are started every day but many die out after a while. I’ve been blogging almost daily for the last four years. Clearly blogs and blogging works for me.

Facebook is another thing I’ve taken a shine too. I am not as addicted as I was in the beginning, but I still love Facebook for its amazing ability to connect me to people I haven’t seen in years and years. It is social networking at its best. (PS If you want to add me as a Facebook friend, you are welcome to do so, but please let me know who you are.)

I love Flickr, and I love LinkedIn. MySpace I’ve never really got but perhaps that is because I am Very Old.

My latest ‘thing’ is Twitter. Twitter has been around for ages but I’ve only recently ‘got’ Twitter. What is Twitter, you ask? Twitter is micro-blogging, which is a bit like a combination between Facebook and blogging, combined into an RSS / feeder type thingy. Basically, you sign up for Twitter (VERY easy), and then you post updates (like mini blog entries) whenever the mood grabs you.  People follow your Twitter stream and you can follow the Twitter stream of people you like. Or don’t like. There is apparently certain etiquette about following someone who is following you, but because people sign up with all sorts of pseudonyms, I have no idea who they are. You can set your updates to private if you are paranoid about that type of thing, but if you are, then you probably shouldn’t sign up for Twitter. 

So basically, Twitter allows you can keep up with the lives of all the people who interest you in one single page.

Now, it sounds very boring, which is what I thought in the beginning. Why on earth would I want to follow the updates of someone’s boring life? And yes, why on earth would you, but Twitter is a lot like blogging: there are some bloody awful, boring blogs out there just as there are some pretty boring Twits / Twitters (still trying to work out the lingo) around. I’d advise against following the boring Twits. But some people are really funny in their updates and it is a great way to keep up with where people are at in a single page. 

The thing I love about Twitter is that it gives me a single snapshot in to this diverse world of people who interest me, fellow mommy bloggers, geeks, famous people, not so famous people, all updated in one single page. Love it.

Sign up for Twitter here. You can follow my stream here. For more on info on Twitter, refer to this excellent article.

Happy Twittering!

Home sweet home

Ah, home sweet home.  It is fabulous to be home.  I've done a few loads of washing, I've been to Woollies to stock the fridge and I am about to plough through my inbox with my super dooper always-on FAST DSL connection.  Life is good.

I've put a few pics up at my Flickr account - see here if you don't mind seeing other people's holiday snaps.  You can thank me for not uploading the 745 photos Marko took of the ducks. 

Speaking of Marko, he is such an odd chap.  I suppose being a 'people' person, I don't quite get it, but inside that tough, strict, almost-bordering-on-unfriendly exterior, beats a really soft, kind heart.  Marko is SUCH an animal lover.  He loves all animals.  He took a million photos of the ducks, he befriended a wild cat who he named Storm and lovingly fed every morning and night (his mean, cruel wife said NO WAY ARE WE BRINGING THAT CAT HOME).  When I caught him feeding my expensive Woollies biltong to a stray dog I nearly had a heart attack.  One night I saw him slip outside with some bread in his hand.  "Where are you going", I asked.  "Um, to feed that big fish I saw earlier" he sheepishly replied.  Apparently he had also befriended a huge fish in the stream.  The fish was so 'tame' (according to Marko), that it let him stroke it.  Although that was the end of the friendship because when Marko went back with the bread, the fish was no where to be found.  I hope it didn't end up wrapped in newspaper, served with some nice hot chips/fries on the side.

Here is a picture of Marko's ducks and Storm.  Unfortunately we never did get a picture of the fish.