Free association
Write down the first words that comes to mind when we
say . . . home. . . soil. . . rain. Use those words in the title of
your post.

Our minds work in mysterious ways…

This prompt immediately took me back to my primary school days: afternoons in my gran’s garden between the fruit trees and vegetables, listening to the neighbor calling his homing pigeons back; then to my mom and I establishing a flower bed in the most horrendous circumstances; then to my carefully manicured garden in Durbanville before it all went up in smoke; then to the garden I have now and how much care I need to take to gather water for my plants; then to the severity of the drought – farmers committing suicide and the total hopelessness that prevails as family estates go to ruin; then (from out of nowhere and for the first time in ages!!) to this – complete fiction.  I hope you enjoy the read (even though it’s sad, but hope always remains)

“Why, Lord, why?  What do you want from me?”  Gertrude’s thermos cup makes a thud on the barren red soil as she drops it on the ground.  The last bit of fight she had in her seeps away as the hot coffee turns the dust to a dark splatter of blood; the ground crying out for water.  She had no more tears left and sat completely broken next to, what used to be, their oasis, willing the skies to fill with clouds and restore this place to its once crowning glory.  Memories washing over her as the last rays of sunlight disappears over horizon turning the now defunct windmill into a dark skeleton on the top of the hill, the Karoo skies open and clear.  Day 1680 without rain had come to an end

“Let’s go away” Cobus had said to her on that evening 10 years ago.  They were busy clearing the dishes  after, yet another, successfully hosted lunch celebrating NatGro’s latest major contract.  Their guests had gone on and on about the perfectly cooked shank paired with a beautiful Franciacorta, an Italian Pinot Noir they brought back from their last visit.  They both smiled dutifully and made small talk as they willed the evening to an end.  They were tired.  Tired to the bone and their souls carried an insatiable hunger for more.  Corporate life had taken its toll, not only on the them but their marriage too.  The glamour couple wanted out.  They longed for the careless days of reading a book, doing a crossword together or going for a walk on the beach; the beach they always dreamed of and eventually bought.  Gertrude turned to Cobus, his reflection a perfect silhouette against the setting sun, waves gently lapping at the shore behind him and suddenly she couldn’t remember the last time they had set foot on that beach. 

“What do you mean?  We’ve just come from France and Germany is 2 weeks away”

“Everything.  Let’s get away from everything.  I love you and I miss you and I’m done with the rat race to signing the next contract and the next one and the next one.  I want my life back.  It never ends!”  The crystal shattered in a million directions as the wine drew a new picture over the painting he bought on auction not even 6 weeks ago.

For a moment of stunned silence Gertrude stared at him, shocked at this sudden show of anger and intrigued by the urgency in voice.  A light flickered in her eye as a spark of excitement flared up within her core.  Getting away from it all has been her biggest desire for a very long time, but he was doing so well, how could she possibly expect him to give it all up because her spirit longed for home.  The small Karoo town where she was born have always been home to her.  Their house was perfect, built to match her every dream, but it was never home.  The more they traveled and the busier they became, the more her soul longed to go home. 

“I thought you were happy here?  Where would we go?  What would we do?”

Cobus took her by the hand, a bottle of wine and two glasses in the other hand and walked her down the pier.  They sat in silence and watched the ocean turn from blue to orange to silver.  He pulled a box from Brown’s out of his pocket and handed it to her.  “I bought you this to celebrate, but I couldn’t remember your favorite color.  Then I realized that there’s a lot I don’t remember.  I don’t remember the smell of your hair as you come out of the shower.  I don’t remember the blush on your cheeks when you are excited.  I don’t remember the last time we had pancakes on the veranda as we read the Sunday paper.  What are we doing?  I see you everyday, we go to bed, we wake up, we talk and eat and travel, but when last did we see into each others soul?”

She tried to speak, the words silenced by his lips as he draws her closer.  The salt of her tears mingled with the smokey white pepper of the wine on his lips.  They sat their and talked as they hadn’t done for ages.  The sky turned black and the milky way shone bright.  When they eventually made their way back to the house, his jacket draped over her shoulders, the full moon lit the way and Gertrude was at peace once more, she knew it was all going to be OK.

5 Weeks later it was all done.  Cobus’ share in the business transferred to his partners, the house sold furniture and all, her SLK and his X5 traded for a WildTrack… all they had in front of them was the 6 hour drive to their new home “La Tranquillita”.  When Cobus first mentioned it, she thought he had gone mad.  A game lodge in the Karoo?!   He was adamant and had already signed the deed of sale.  She was going home!

The next 6 years was spent in bliss.  Cobus spared no expense as the run-down lodge was turned into the most popular place to say outside of the Karoo National Park.  Their days were spent taking tourists on game drives, their evenings next to the fire as he pointed out the constellations she could never remember.  Sundays was her favorite though.  They would take the day off and spend it next to the dam, reading and eating and drinking wine and making love under the willow tree.  They were madly in love and didn’t want for anything.  

The harsh “kak-kak-kak” of a Lanner Falcon rips her from the memories.  She’s surprised to still see one in this area.  The animals and birds which had not died had all migrated by now.  Their oasis lay bare before her.  To think of how it looked…. That was 4 years ago before the rain stopped.

El Nino they had called it and everyone said it wouldn’t last long.  But they were wrong.  At first tourism slowed down as more and more animals died and water restrictions were put in place.  Homes put up for the sale in the first year still found new owners, but the empty skeletons that litter the town now are testimony of lives that were once lived there, of people moving on and starting afresh somewhere else.  Year after year now the farmers had to watch as their sheep die of thirst, how the last bit of greenery disappeared into dust.  Her own vegetable garden turned to nothing more than a highway for tumble-weed, her chicken coop dilapidated and falling apart.

This morning over coffee, exactly 10 years after Cobus declared they had to get away, he looked up from his paper and again said those words.

“We have to get away from here.  Our savings are running out, it’s never going to rain here again.”  The defeated look in his eyes told her what she had already known.  “Mark made me an offer.  I can go back.  We can start over.”

She fled and came here, looking for answers, looking for a way out.  Deep down, however, she knew they had no other choice.  The rat race had won.  They had to go back.

“It won’t be the same, I promise you that, as God is my witness in this barren land, it won’t be the same”  Cobus’ voice jarred her from thought as his arms wrapped around her.

He gently kissed her on the head “This time will be better, going back will not be the same”

That which remains unsaid

On my return to WordPress, I was very disappointed to learn that the “daily prompt” no longer exist. In my amateur opinion everyone, even Steven King and Khalil Gibran needs a spark to get the creative juices flowing. They must, I’m sure, be able to find that spark in the little things every day – a walk in the park or a spilled cup of coffee might lead to a bestselling novel. This aspiring writer is not there yet. So, I rifled through the web in search of something similar and came across their 365 Days of Writing Prompts, which will have to do for now. Granted, I’m a day late, but here’s the one for yesterday:

Ripped from the headlines
Head to your favorite online news source. Pick an article with a headline that grabs you. Now, write a short story based on the article.

The first headline that caught my eye on News24 was the news that Margaret is now divorced. For those of you who don’t know Margaret, here’s the long and short of it

Margaret, the farmer’s wife on a small town in the middle of nowhere decided to spice things up and delve into the world of sexting with her husband. The photo ended up going to her daughter’s hockey WhatsApp group and went viral from there.

What is not being said in this little story? Who’s to say her husband didn’t ask her for the picture? Who’s to say it wasn’t a regular thing between them? Who’s to say if it was not meant for someone other than her husband? Who’s to say…. Fact is, with it being a small town she was ridiculed and their entire family suffered as a result of one message. Strange thing then, that she decided to move to town while her (now ex-) husband stayed on the farm? It if was me, I would have high tailed out of there in the blink of an eye. So, what is not being said…

The story that developed in my head was a bit 50 Shade-ish (gasp), so I’ll rather not bore you with those details. It got me thinking, however, about everything that remains unsaid and how well we really know people.

I’ve often said that we only really know people as much as they allow us to know them. No one really knows what goes on behind closed doors. The smiling, obedient wife might be the victim of abuse. The busy executive who is always away on business might be having an affair. The couple who’s always hosting and throwing lavish parties might be struggling financially. The cheery blond, who is always the life of the party looking for the next adventure, might be an extremely lonely, hurt and scared little girl with tons of issues. The quiet one in the corner with the “leave me alone” expression, might have more to say that anyone would ever know.

There’s a lot to be said for not being a “quiet” person. I would much rather sit back and listen and observe than make small talk. You learn so much about people if you just stop and listen – really listen.

The biggest communication flaw we have is that we hear to respond, we don’t really listen. If you stop and listen instead of just hearing, there is so much to be learned from every day conversations. People don’t realize how they allow little vulnerabilities shine through with things that they say, and when they do it is usually quickly fixed with a joke that leaves everyone roaring with laughter to distract from the truth that was spoken – the truth they don’t want people to know.

If I could have a super-power, it would be to be able to read people’s minds. Then I will really know what is being meant or what truth is hidden or what lie is being sold as gospel. The world has taught us to not verbalize what we really think or feel – we might get rejected, we might be misunderstood, our fears might scare people away, our dreams might be too big for them. So, we keep it to ourselves. We don’t share our innermost wishes and fears and hopes and dreams, because we don’t know how it will be received. And that is where things go wrong.

I could for instance say that I enjoyed my December home making so much that I don’t want to go back to work. My boss might read it and see that my commitment to work is waning, which is completely wrong.

If you can’t be totally truthful about what you feel and want and need – however messed up it might be (I take you back to Margaret and her husband now) – how can we ever have successful relationships? Perhaps Margaret and her husband found themselves in a slump in their marriage and instead of giving up on it, they read 50 Shades and decided to spice things up and work at their marriage. Granted, some people might say if that is the case they went about it the wrong way, but we will never know will we.

The thing is that our thoughts and needs and emotions can be scary. One of Robin Sharma’s tactics is “speak your truth even when it’s scary”. A lot can be achieved by doing just that if, and that’s a big IF, we don’t allow our fears to cloud our minds.

A friend recently suggested that we do a 100% truth evening. The thought of it was so uncomfortable that we decided not to follow through. Do we really want to know the absolute truth of what someone thinks about us and our ideas, would we be able to handle it?

If your “truth” is too much for someone to handle or if your “truth” is not what they want to hear or accept, is that person really the kind of person you need in your circle? I don’t know. Until I’ll do, I’ll continue to listen and share my truth here.

Murky water…

Today I am a little boat floating in a dark, moonless ocean.  I am not sure where emotion ends and thoughts begin.  I don’t even know where rational stops and irrational claws its way into my being

I’ve been crying non-stop since I first opened my eyes this morning and then I get mad at myself because it’s so stupid because I am happy and loved and then I cry some more out of anger.

I can’t stop

Today was supposed to be my 20th wedding anniversary.  Even though I am happier now that I ever was in my married life, I’m sad because my fairy-tale was stolen from me and I’ll never have a second chance at that.  One day everything was fine and then, out of nowhere, it was ripped away from me and no matter how hard I tried or what I did or how much of myself I sacrificed it was taken away – my fairy-tale turned into a nightmare that’s haunting me to this day.  I’ll never have that – I’ll never have my fairy-tale.  I’ll never walk down the aisle and live happily ever after in marital bliss and get to celebrate a 10th or 20th wedding anniversary.  That’s all I’ve wanted since I was a little girl and I witnessed my grandparents live that dream.  Don’t get me wrong, I know they had their ups and downs.  That’s par for the course, but they kept going at it.  They never gave up, they never allowed anything to destroy their fairy-tale.  They had a commitment to each other, a bond that they protected.  They worked at it every single day.  I didn’t have a chance.  It was taken from me and there was nothing I could do to stop – and that, my friends, is what’s scaring the daylights out of me.

I look at new relationships form, I look at people falling in and out of love, I look at break ups happening around me, I look at the effort being put in from one side and not being reciprocated, I look at miscommunication and misread signs, I look at people cheating and being cheated on, I look at divorces happening – all of these happening in front of my eyes and the realization that there is nothing to be done to stop it is just too much for me today.

We have no guarantees, do we?

We can’t make someone love us forever.  We can’t make someone want to stay.  We can’t force a fairy-tale

This thing called love is such a fragile and unpredictable thing.  I know I am loved and happy and what we have work.  I know that, but in the back of my mind there is always the knowing that there are no guarantees and it scares me beyond reason, beyond all rationale.

They say fear has two meanings: Forget Everything And Run or Face Everything And Rise – how do you face a monster you can not see, a monster that you don’t know exist?  How do you fight a fear if you don’t know what you’re up against?  You can’t face something that you don’t know exist, can you?  That’s the thing with love.  When it’s ripped from you, it often happens unexpectedly and you didn’t even know that there was something lurking in the background.   How do I overcome that paralyzing fear that drives me beyond reason?  How do I make my heart and my mind believe that this is forever and I can relax and just enjoy it and live happily ever after without fear?  How do I make my heart and my mind understand that I don’t need to fear if there are no guarantees?

Today I am a little boat floating in a dark, moonless ocean

Failure is not an option

“What are you doing?”  “Why bother, you’ve already failed”

For days now I’ve been working on several posts in my head, so I was quite surprised when my bugs came up with the above as I finally sat down to write this morning.

“What do you mean?” I entertained the little critters.  “Well, we’re on the 8th of January and you’ve only published 3 posts, once of which was a copy and paste job from a message you received.  You’ve failed.  You’re not making 2019 WOW.  We knew it would happen”

I suppose in a sense it is true, but life happens.   Let me break down what’s been happening … (In my head I had several posts to do about several things, but seeing that I have the time now, let me give a condensed version)

Going back to work… I think if you are miserable at home, going back to work must be a charm.  The couple of days I had off, however, made me consider the fact that I might actually like to be a housewife one day.  Gasp!  Watching my little seedlings grow as they water them, getting rid of the weeds, tidying up here and there, moving a flower-pot from one place to the next in search of the perfect spot – that’s been blissful.  I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.  My garden is no oasis, but it is there and it’s getting there.  I see the results of the drought in my garden and it breaks my heart.  I can only just imagine the desperation and hopelessness that must be felt by the farmers who for 3 years in a row now have been unable to sow or harvest.  The alarming rate of suicides, especially in the Free State, is testimony to the hopelessness they experience.  The drought is forcing us to go water wise with our gardens and luckily succulents grow like there’s no tomorrow.  The lawn, or rather what’s left of what used to be a lawn, on the other hand is a disaster of its own.  Getting that fixed up will have to wait until April when the rain comes, which gives me plenty of time to get rid of those pesky daisy-like weeds that just won’t go away.  The garden make-over has me collecting every drop of bath, laundry and dish water I can get my hands on.  On the upside, I might finally develop some muscles around my shoulders from carrying those buckets around 🙂

The other part of my “holiday” was spent giving the house a mini make over – getting rid of cluttering, clearing out bookshelves so we only have books on it, spring cleaning, unpacking and re-packing cupboards, selling unwanted items, putting up different curtains.  It is one of the best feelings in the world to see the result and witness the little changes

I’ve also started with a Bokashi composting bin yes, we are finally on the recycling train.  I was shocked when I put out my first recycling lot this morning.  There’s more stuff there than in my normal bin!!  I’m happy to say that everyone at home is in on all my efforts and it’s making a huge difference

So yes, going back to work wasn’t nice.  All of sudden I don’t have the time I want for the garden or the home and everything get’s done in a rush and without the effort and time it deserves.  I am, however, extremely grateful to have a job and I do love what I do.  Soon I’ll be studying too so better time management will be required on my part.

On reading 60 minutes every day… The Socrates thing have kept me busy.  By using his technique, I’ve managed to silence my bugs a couple of times.  Only once in the past week did they win and left me broody and sulking.  Only once though.  I’ve really taken to this method of dissecting my thoughts and must say that I’ve not read any further in the book.  Socrates works for me.  On the other hand, I might find another that works even better, so I’ll be reading the next chapter today.   Having said all of that, it does not mean that I’ve not read at all.  I’ve been spending minutes here and there throughout the day reading other blogs and articles and book and movie reviews, so I’ve not neglected it entirely.  Just not quite at the 60 minute mark yet

On exercising first thing every morning… I used to be a morning person.  A long, long, long time ago – before kids and work and stress and trying to find a couple of minutes to connect with my love every night and going to bed too late.  I don’t know how he manages to get up at 4:30 every single day.  The 5-AM club is not something that works for me.  I gave myself “off” last week as I was still doing a lot of work around the house and garden and I figured that it would count as my exercise for the day.  I was fully determined to get up and exercise before going to work yesterday.  I managed to do all of 5 minutes hahaha.  This morning I got up and managed 30 minutes before my bugs told me I’ve had enough.  That’s OK.  Tonight I’ll go for a run and tomorrow we start again.

On social media marking and finding influencers… “You need to get one or 2 influencers behind you.  You are sitting on a gold mine!”  A lot of my time has been spent on marking the bus.  The potential for it is huge and we both know it’s just a matter of finding the right spot, the right spark, that one gap somewhere that will propel us to the next level.  What the heck are influencers?  OK, I’ve sort of managed to figure that one out on my own, but how on earth do I get one of them to look at (for now) little fish like us?  I really can’t wrap my head around what to do next and I wish we could get in contact with a marketing guru to give us a free consultation and point us in the right direction.  Mark Cuban comes to mind.  Who is his South African equivalent?  Mmmm, that’s the one I need to speak to.  Dream big, they say…

On thinking about love and being loved…  there’s a story for another day

Even though getting up at 5 is a royal pain in the a…, I must say that it adds to productivity.  Right now I feel energized and ready for the day.

So, have I failed?  No my little bugs, I’ve not failed.  I’ve grown a little and loved a lot.  I learned and practiced and tried.  I’m still standing – you lose.  Now hush, and go back to your dark little corner.  Momma’s gotta go shine now


Salt vs Rice

Here’s a cool message I received from a friend the other day…..

Beautifully Written 👌

*Salt -VS- Rice…*

If you were to cook 3 cups of rice, would you add 3 cups of salt to it?

Certainly not!

So, in every preparation of rice, the rice always outnumbers the salt, yet little salt makes a huge difference/impact in the overall outcome.

In the room in which you currently are, look up at the ceiling…
What is the size of the bulb compared to the size of the room?
It is probably a ratio of 1:5000.
Yet, darkness flees the entire space once the small bulb is flipped on.

If I am the salt of the earth and the light of the world, then “little me” has the ability to make big things happen..

Sometimes, because we feel outnumbered or overwhelmed at the sheer magnitude of evil or wrong-doers, we then choose powerlessness and decide to go with the flow, not standing up for what we believe is right.

Little doesn’t mean insignificant!
You are significant! Your presence should make a BIG difference! Stop waiting to be on the side of the majority. They may be the majority, but they are the trivial majority, and you are the impactful minority.

They are the rice of the world, and you are the salt of the world..
They are the room and you are the light..
Make your influence felt!

You are the world’s seasoning, to make it beautiful.

So, if we can just be the right seasoning to make even one life beautiful, our life is worth living.

Have a blessed day and a super year ahead😊

Onwards and Upwards! Be the salt in someone’s life today 💞

On discovering Kindle and re-thinking thinking

Something which I have neglected in the past year or so is reading.  Even though I love reading, it’s just one of the things that slipped between the cracks as I was busy living life and wasting time.  With the Robin Sharma tactics in mind, I’ve zoned in on a couple of books I want to read or re-read this year.  A friend suggested Kindle.  Oooo, that thing might be my downfall yet.

Yes, it’s not a nice as reading a real book.  It does not have the feel of paper between your fingers as you turn the page.  Nor does it have the smell, especially the kind of smell you get from old books purchased in bargain book stores.  You don’t get that sense of history, knowing that the author paged through the first copy when he received it from the publisher; or your mind does not wander to that point where you try to image the other person/s who has read the book before you.  You don’t get any of the nostalgia that goes with ink on paper.  You do however get the biggest possible library.  You do get them at ridiculously low prices and you do get them at the click of a button….  Hence my impending financial downfall.  I’ll have to use some serious self-control with this little App.

I went in with a mission to find the books on my list.  The one that grabbed my attention – and eventually found its way to my cart – wasn’t one of them though.  Lessons from critical thinkers by Albert Rutherford won the race and is the first of many books in my Kindle library.

Why did I pick this one?

Well, the title has the word “thinking” in it.  Yes, it’s that simple.  I, always thinking about thinking, thought it was quite appropriate.  Add the word “critical” to the title and my bugs all came to attention.  What if I, instead of trying to quiet my mind, retrained it to think better.  To not go on an emotional roller coaster, but rather analyze and decipher and then conclude.  my Love is probably rolling his eyes as he reads this – it’s something he’s been trying to get me do for the longest possible time.   About time I give it a shot then.

It took all of 30 seconds to get the book.  It’s both amazing and scary at the same time.  Amazing because it just takes one click (literally, it’s called “buy now with one click”) and scary because, well, how do I control myself hahaha

The first chapter explores thinking according to Socrates and Aristotle.  Socratic questioning really spoke to me and right of the bat I can tell that I don’t like Aristotle.  I’m confident that a lot of people will not agree with me on this, but what was he (Aristotle) thinking?

Socratic questioning seeks to find and change spontaneous habitual thinking patterns linked to a specific situation.  This passage on Wikipedia describes it best:


Socratic questioning has also been used in psychotherapy, most notably as a cognitive restructuring technique in classical Adlerian psychotherapylogotherapyrational emotive behavior therapycognitive therapy, and logic-based therapy.[13] The purpose is to help uncover the assumptions and evidence that underpin people’s thoughts in respect of problems. A set of Socratic questions in cognitive therapy aim to deal with automatic thoughts that distress the patient:[14]

  1. Revealing the issue: ‘What evidence supports this idea? And what evidence is against its being true?’
  2. Conceiving reasonable alternatives: ‘What might be another explanation or viewpoint of the situation? Why else did it happen?’
  3. Examining various potential consequences: ‘What are worst, best, bearable and most realistic outcomes?’
  4. Evaluate those consequences: ‘What’s the effect of thinking or believing this? What could be the effect of thinking differently and no longer holding onto this belief?’
  5. Distancing: ‘Imagine a specific friend/family member in the same situation or if they viewed the situation this way, what would I tell them?’

Careful use of Socratic questioning enables a therapist to challenge recurring or isolated instances of a person’s illogical thinking while maintaining an open position that respects the internal logic to even the most seemingly illogical thoughts

This really appeals to me and might just be the key to my mind that’s been evading me for so long.  We all have spontaneous habitual responses and thoughts.  The key here is to pinpoint those thoughts and change them

Aristotle on the other hand – I am not sure about him.  It’s going to take a lot of digging to find out why he was so big.  Maybe someone need to explain to me.  His work is based on logic.  For example:

All cars with excellent mileage per gallon are good cars

My car gives excellent mileage per gallon

Therefore, I have a good car

Now, the potential buyer of my rusty old beetle with a cracked windscreen and banged up shocks will not agree that it is a good car just because he will good mileage per gallon.  See why Aristotle is flawed in my mind?

Keep an eye out for my feedback on the rest of the “critical thinkers” and please, feel free to explain Aristotle if you have a better understanding of him and his work

3, 2, 1….Go!!! Hello 2019


I think we put too much unrealistic pressure on ourselves with the start of a new year. I suppose it is part of the human makeup to look at a new year as an opportunity to “start over”. Problem is, in my opinion, that we can’t ever really “start over”. What we’ve done and where we’ve been and the people who influenced us – be it good or bad – those things will always be part of us. It makes us who we are.

For the umpteenth time, we had a discussion the other day about “what if I had done this or that”, “what if I made a different choice”, etc etc. The conclusion we come to every single time is that, in hindsight I wouldn’t have done it different at all. I might have chosen a different reaction, knowing what I know now, but those events and people are all pivotal to making us who we are. Without those events and people, we would never be able to get to a point where we know exactly what we do or do not what, what we will or will not tolerate in our lives and who the dream stealers are in our lives.

So for 2019, I have no major “resolutions” (I tend to think they are silly anyhow as you are just setting yourself up for disappointment 99% of the time), but instead I choose to focus on whatever brings me inner peace. Every choice, every situation, every person – decide if it is bringing peace or discord to your life. By doing the little things on the 2019 list, I will achieve this.

As long as your heart and mind is focused on the right thing, you will move in the right direction

May 2019 be your best year yet. May you achieve and accomplish what you set out to do. May your days be filled with love and joy and peace. May you grow and become who you were designed to be.

Blessings and love xxx

Did you seriously just ask me that?

pick me

I need to get something off my chest.

There’s this man I “know” – well, I don’t KNOW him as such, we will brush past each other once a month or so in a social environment, exchange pleasantries and go on our way.  My perception of him has always been that he is respectable guy, perhaps a little arrogant, but OK, that comes with having money and being somewhere in your 60’s, I guess.

A couple of days ago, he joined our table and small talk was made.  Out of nowhere he pipes up “Can I ask you something – you are Afrikaans, right?”.  What came next was not at all what I expected!

“Why are all you Afrikaans girls so stuck up?”

He could clearly see that I was quite baffled by his question.  In my mind, I thought it was my Resting Bitch Face Syndrome that threw him, but turns out I was wrong.  He continued…

“Let me explain.  You Afrikaans girls are always keen on doing something and then, out of nowhere, when you find out I am married, you  suddenly want to know nothing of it!  Why is that?  There is this girl that’s fallen on hard times and I’ve undertaken to give her a good time, spoil her and treat her and give her all the bells and whistles for December.  Then, when she heard I was married, she backed of and wanted nothing to do with me!  Why?!  My wife and I have a perfectly good understanding where I do my thing and she does hers and if one thing leads to another, well, we are OK with that.  Why would you give up on such an opportunity?”

Are you serious!!! 


Does he honestly think he is God’s gift to women and they should all just fall over like good little puppies at the snap of his fingers and happily jump up and down whenever he tosses a coin in your direction?  Those who know me will tell you in no uncertain terms that I am THE worst person to ask that sort of question to.  As he spoke, tiny little volcanoes erupted inside of me and turned into an inferno that could not be stopped.  I had a whole speech that boiled up inside of me, but the poor man only made it past the first two sentences before he decided to get his ass over to another table without even saying goodbye.  How rude.

The disappointment…. I suppose my truth was just too much for him to handle.  Needless to say, I have lost all respect for him and probably won’t ever grace him with my “hello” again.

His “good Samaritan” point of view is no different from the people who blames a girl for getting raped because of what she wore.  It sickens me to know that there are people out there who have no qualm with using their financial worth to extort people in need to feed their own perverted needs.  I’m not naive, I know it happens, but for someone to so blatantly ask the question and really not see any issue with what they are doing?  Does he honestly expect girls to just fall over and prostitute themselves when he throws money in their face.  Any why narrow it down to Afrikaans girls?

FYI mister, having fallen on hard times does not make girls desperate enough to dispose of moral values and it is not restricted to a certain group.  Most girls will tell you to …. right off.

I am really disappointed that he walked away without giving me the opportunity to give him the full wrath of what was (and apparently still is) going on inside of me.

It is men like this that contributes to the decay of society.  With role models like that, what does our young men have to look up to?  We have lost all sense of moral and what is right and wrong.  Sociopath comes to mind…


Wasting time…


One of an over-thinker’s biggest desires is the ability to stop thinking – to just switching your mind to pause mode and experience the quiet numbness of … nothing.  If someone invented an “off” button for the brain, I would have it installed in the blink of an eye.

Today I realized that what I’ve been doing in trying to achieve this has been wrong all along.

My favorite mindless pastime is playing games on my phone. Cookie Jam is my go-to game. No need to think, just play. I am on level 2403 and as I sat trying to beat the level for, probably, the 15th time, it dawned on me how silly it is. I waste so much precious time every single day on being “mindless”, whereas the time could have been spent so much better.  Well, backtrack for a second, it didn’t start like that.  

Sir Luke is forever going on about the latest game.  His favourite thing to do on weekends is to go to the mall and play games.  Whenever he speaks it’s about games.  I could never make sense of this.  This has led to a number of disagreements between us.  Me trying to get him to talk about and focus on something else; him shrugging it off as “this IS important to me, mom”

As I sat there today, enjoying a minute of mindlesness, playing my game, I pitied the youth of today who don’t know the childhood we have.  They don’t know the innocense that we knew.  It was stolen from them by technology.   Then I realised what I was busy doing and I just had to stop.  We lead by example.  We show them how to live a technology fueled life

So often during the day when I have 5 or 10 minutes to spare, I would pick up my phone and play a game “just to take a break from it all”.   So much wasted time.

The 10 tactics list, amongst others, reading 60 minutes a day and personal mastery.  How about wasting less time on mindlesness and use that time being mindful of where I am – physically, emotionally and spiritually, pondering on things like The Scrolls that will propel personal growth or getting out in the garden, meditating (if meditating for 5 or 10 minutes is even a thing) and connecting with nature

How about making mindfulness a goal instead of a mindless escape?