stick figure families

I am a pretty even-tempered person. I have been know to get argumentative and stand up for Tiger Woods and his infidelities but have no time for Lance Armstrong and slate him at every turn.  That is the way I roll.  Not much gets me revved up (except Lance Armstrong) but these little stick figure families have a way at hitting all the wrong nerves in my body.

Maybe, if I was analysed, it may go back to the "single mom" thing and the picture of these "happy" families driving in 4X4's with a Dad who love to braai (who doesn't have a Dad who loves to braai?) (even if he doesn't live in the same home as you), a Mom who either loves to shop or go to gym (hells bells, I don't like either of them so therein could also lie my problem), a little boy playing cricket (who didn't or doesn't have a little boy who still loves to play cricket?), a little girl with pigtails skipping, 2 dogs and a cat.

OK, this Dad plays golf but what does the Mom like to do?  Wear high heels and carry a handbag (puke). I think what irritates me most is the way these stickers are making me behave.  I now drive up close behind the "stick figure family" car in front of me to make up my own story about the family.  I am a very inquisitive person (you might know that) and the one below is one of the most infuriating.

I have worked most of it.  Dad plays golf (is that a cell phone in his hand?) (on the golf course?), Mom shops (this one with flat shoes (thank goodness), big sister is in the tennis team and middle child and brother plays soccer.  Why does it drive me mad?  What is the sex of the baby in the pram? Why haven't they worked out a way to tell you that?  I end up having to overtake the car and peep into the baby seat to satisfy my curiosity. Boy or girl baby?  I know, I am a strange one.

So it is now 10.30 and I am almost ready for bed.  I had a quick peep at Facebook, saw the picture below on Hope's page (which made me giggle) but has now got me ranting and raving and typing at 100 miles an hour because these stick figures are driving me crazy.  I cannot get away from them.

In my day (am I sounding old and menopausal?) we sported a "Baby on Board" sticker (which in itself was probably also pretty ridiculous).  Making a statement to the world.  I am grown up, have had sex and now have a baby - BEWARE of me!!!

Still better than the "stick figure family".  Well I think so anyway.  You?

be my valentine....not

I have never really bought into Valentine's Day and the quote above is exactly how I feel. Call me a grinch if you must.  Firstly I do not like red roses (any colour except red) and I hate schmaltzy cards (and queueing to get into a restaurant).  I like to be told I am loved every day and not have it reserved for the one day of the year when everyone and their dog are being told that they are loved as well.  I love hand written notes left on bits of paper and a spontaneous bunch of sweet peas when they are in season.  That to me is romance.

Perhaps it is because I have only ever had one seriously romantic boyfriend in my life.  He also happened to be the "first boyfriend" and maybe this has something to do with it.  He wrote me cards and letters, celebrated every month that we were together with flowers (and cards and letters), he had names for the two children we would have one day and houses were identified where we would one day live. All this at 16 and 18!!  He was a soppy romantic and I fell for it (and totally enjoyed it) for 16 long months of my teenage life.  It took me 15 (and a half) months to realise that this guy was a tad controlling, he studied too hard and never wanted to go to parties (or let me go to parties).  OK, (confession) there was another guy who we (Lesley and I) stalked in the school corridors at school (and on the rugby fields) who had a wonderful smile, who winked (and smiled) at me which made my heart melt and made me realise that at 16, 16 months is far too long a time to be with one person.

The question I always ask myself is what is it about your first love that makes it stick in your mind forever?  I was over "first boyfriend" before I broke up with him so why am I still interested in what he is up to, where he lives and how his sisters are?  Our paths have crossed many times since we were at high school.  We have friendly and polite conversations (about where he lives, how talented his children are and where they travelled to this year and where they are skiing next year).  He even bought Dalene, Kathy and myself a whole bottle of "very expensive" wine in a rugby club one cold wintry afternoon. (How "expensive" can the best bottle of wine at a rugby club be?).  His wife is great and would fit in very well with my circle of girlfriends - she seems like fun and likes also likes wine (although he should have bought her a bottle of her own).  If Lesley was there she would have told him so.


I found this quote the other day:-

“You’ll always care about your first love. That doesn’t make you crazy, it just makes you human. When relationships end, it’s not so cut and dry. You carry everyone you’ve ever loved into every relationship thereafter.”

Ryan O'Connell


It is funny that thinking of Valentine's Day led me to think about first love and the "first boyfriend". 

I watch Amy and Kelly now in their teenage years and  I know how cruel those cards and roses that arrive at school can be.  There is always one girl in your class who gets all the cards and flowers.  She usually has the brownest legs in the class and an awesome name like Danielle or Samantha or Jade or Beverly.

If I can thank "first boyfriend" for anything it would be for the card which was delivered to my desk, all those years ago when I was an awkward 16 year old.   Jennifer's don't usually do well in the Valentine's Day race.  I am sure it was schmaltzy and had red roses all over it but whatever it said or was, it made me feel special for that moment.

So who am I to be cynical and ungrateful?

Happy Valentine's Day!! 

the fake doughnut and other stuff

I am still here, just distracted and busy and wishing I had time to catch up with my friends and family and blogging (which is exactly the same thing, I suppose).  I know you will excuse the lack of activity - the week coming up is also going to be crazy - so I am doing the lazy thing and sending you stuff that I have had stored for a rainy day.  Stuff that I wanted to elaborate on a bit and maybe tell a story about but for now there are not many stories.  But you guys know what is what, you can make up your own stories....

I love this

(Note how the 136 has been rubbed out and changed to 137 - I think he (it has to be a "he") added the word "strawberry")

Delicious yogurt panacotta made by Lynne for a lovely lunch last week

She shares her recipes, I followed the recipe - gelatine and all

and it was almost (actually just as) delicious as hers

(but I lost points on the presentation as I only had blueberries 

and my ramekins were much flatter)

A treat of a butterfly outside my bedroom window yesterday morning

(good picture hey Ellen?)

Someone always does 

Don't you forget it!!

Open that window - there may even be a butterfly waiting for you!!

Sleep tight

a man's a man for that...

I have not had time for much this week but while waiting for a takeaway pizza, I had a quick look on Facebook only to see messages from Siobhan about Robbie Burns night.  It was quite ironic because this evening was the first time that I have sat down to watch television with Michael in ages.  He had just settled down to watch the cricket (Who wants to watch the cricket when you know the South African team have already lost the series? What is the point?).  So I hijacked the remote and started looking at what we had recorded.  Dalene had told me about the Graham Norton show that was on DSTV last Friday. It was a great show especially since we are trying very hard to get the whole family together to see Les Miserables but it is proving more difficult than putting a marshmallow into a money box.  Hugh Jackman (Jean Valjean) was a guest (along with Tom Cruise and Billy Crystal). I can't wait to see this movie (and if Dalene and Gareth have sneaked off without me there is going to be trouble!!).  The two of them are the ultimate Les Mis fans and they both know every word of every song. It is a special musical in our family.

Sorry, I get sidetracked.  As gorgeous and entertaining as Hugh Jackman was, the star of the show to me was the Scottish comedian, John Bishop.  Michael and I really had a good laugh watching the show and now while I wait (very hungrily) for the pizza to arrive, I thought I should share this little bit of Burns magic.  

"A Man's a Man for That" has always been one of my favourite poems.  I remember my English teacher translating it for us and explaining, quite simply that a man is a man, rich or poor and that we are all equal.  Wealth and social class is not a measure for a person's worth and honesty is worth more than fancy clothes (tinsel).  I had forgotten and had to look up what a "birkie" was (cool young guy) and I remembered that a coof was a fool.

Is there for honest Poverty 

That hings his head, an' a' that; 

The coward slave-we pass him by, 

We dare be poor for a' that! 

For a' that, an' a' that. 

Our toils obscure an' a' that, 

The rank is but the guinea's stamp, 

The Man's the gowd for a' that. 

What though on hamely fare we dine, 

Wear hoddin grey, an' a that; 

Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine; 

A Man's a Man for a' that: 

For a' that, and a' that, 

Their tinsel show, an' a' that; 

The honest man, tho' e'er sae poor, 

Is king o' men for a' that. 

Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord, 

Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that; 

Tho' hundreds worship at his word, 

He's but a coof for a' that: 

For a' that, an' a' that, 

His ribband, star, an' a' that: 

The man o' independent mind 

He looks an' laughs at a' that. 

A prince can mak a belted knight, 

A marquis, duke, an' a' that; 

But an honest man's abon his might, 

Gude faith, he maunna fa' that! 

For a' that, an' a' that, 

Their dignities an' a' that; 

The pith o' sense, an' pride o' worth, 

Are higher rank than a' that. 

Then let us pray that come it may, 

(As come it will for a' that,) 

That Sense and Worth, o'er a' the earth, 

Shall bear the gree, an' a' that. 

For a' that, an' a' that, 

It's coming yet for a' that, 

That Man to Man, the world o'er, 

Shall brothers be for a' that.

My apologies to the Scottish family (and Aunty Alice) for any misinterpretation.  Colette and Siobhan I know will love Paolo Nutini's version of this poem.  

Victoria has told me that she is having haggis, tatties and neeps for dinner and I wish you all a wonderful evening.  I am off to have some pizza (which has finally arrived) followed by a "wee dram" (with all the Scottish whisky* in our house, that never gets drunk, it would be silly to let an occasion like tonight pass me by).

*Did you know what "whisky" is for the Scottish variety and "whiskey" is Irish?  The Scottish take umbrage to inserting an "e" in their "whisky".

I have been waiting for so long to find the right time and place to use the words "take umbrage".  Such a lovely expression.

Therein ends the lesson.