The end of the world

Have I mentioned how much I *heart* reading Ken Follett's books? I read "The Pillars of the Earth" in 1998, wayyyy before he achieved world-wide fame. I like to think that my forcing my friends to read it because they couldn't go through life without reading one of the best pieces of literary brilliance of our time, contributed to his success. (Clearly, I'm totally humble.)

Then came "World Without End" which was just as awesome, even if I was disappointed that the follow-up of the previous novel skipped an entire generation...

Yesterday I bought "Winter of the World". Yayness! Can't wait to get my pyjamas on, the hubsband & offspring packed off to bed, a cuppa made & my behind parked on a couch with the book. *sigh* HEAVEN!

Incidentally, all of this "world without end" / "winter of the world" business reminds me that today was supposed to be the last day on the Mayan calendar. I guess today the Mayans learned the important lesson that if you find out you're wrong, it's not the end of the world. Haha!

Now, please excuse me while I get my nose stuck into my book.

Toodle do.

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Praying for the Connecticut families, ripped apart by one crazed gunman

I am watching the coverage of the shooting at the Newtown elementary school, where Ryan Lanza gunned down close to 30 people, the majority of which were children.

I am simply horrified that a tragedy like this could be perpetrated against tiny little children!

I cannot even begin to imagine how afraid they were; nor how devastated those poor families are going to be!

So heart rending.

I will be praying for all the families who have been torn apart by this terrible tragedy. And, in the words of Obama, "tonight will be hugging my [Jesse] a little tighter to myself."

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Goodbye work. Hello holiday.

Today is my very last day of work for 2012.  I am having some serious trouble, trying to keep from breaking out in bootie shakes.

On Sunday we hit the road to all the fandamily in the Eastern Cape, for a rocking Christmas with my most favourite people in the whole world.  Sunday cannot come soon enough.  We are all ready for the trip - dvd player, snacks, catsitter, etc.

Here's wishing you all a fabulous festive season.  Remembering our Saviour and the reason He came.

Such a flower child!

Wherein I declare myself lazy.

I will not be working today.
Tomorrow is my last official working day for the year, but I. am. tired. of. working.
Nuff said.

Alternative plan for the day: lots of lurking around people's blogs.  Pinterest.  Facebook.  Youtube.
That's all.
Finish and klaar.

Carry on.

I like them big. I like them chunky.

Alternate title:  A Pain in The A**

A week ago, we had a potjie with some church friends.  [A potjie (pronounced "poykee") is a casserole cooked in an enormous three-legged pot over a fire.  But we call the entire event, from building the fire, to eating and socializing together, a potjie]  Great fun!  Food + friends = fun.  

On our return home, it started raining, so when I walked down the stairs from the garage towards our back door, my boats crocs rapidly morphed from foot protective gear to weapons of mass destruction and sent me and my liberally indulged appetite crashing down the flight of steps, while still holding two big pyrex dishes in my hands.

It wasn't pretty, y'all.  And neither is the junk in my trunk.

Lest you think this image has been tampered with, nay, that is an actual photo taken with my Blackberry. And yes, those are The Bruises.

Never one to miss an opportunity for sympathy, as soon as the bruise was visible, I sent pictures of it to my friends. Who, in the spirit of our dear friendship, immediately seized the opportunity to comment on the enormity, not of The Bruise, but of the roundness of my rump.  "Dang, girl - look at the SIZE of that thing! (The butt, not the bruise.)"  One even quoted one of my most favourite scenes from Madagascar II to me, where Motomoto approaches Gloria and introduces himself.  "Who's your friend? Or is that your butt?" (bad youtube version of the scene here.)

Luckily I have a thick skin.
It's purple.
But who am I to complain?

In the meantime, I am garnering sympathy wherever I can.
With my blue butt and the picture thereof in tow.

Thank you for the music!

My bonnie child

There is a Barney Show coming to town.  I had seen the posters up and had attempted to take preemptive evasive action.  Think driving 4km's further en-route to our destination to avoid the street littered with the purple monster.  But the posters.  are.  everywhere.  And my daughter has eyes like a hawk.  She can always be relied on to eye-spy something that I had hidden away.

And so she noticed the one lone poster on the streetpole that I was unable to avoid.  

Our conversation went like this:

Jesse:  "Please Mommy, sing the Barney song for me?" Me:  "How does it go, Jesse?" Jesse sings, "My Barney lies over the ocean... My Barney lies over the sea... Oh bring back my Barney to me!" 

Wahahahaha! She's hilarious!

Of stories and namings

We have a routine that we stick to in the evenings with Jesse-Lee:

Supper.  Bath.  Bed.  Bedtime Story.  Lights Out.  Two songs.  Kiss.  Hug.  Happy.

That way, she gets her 10 hours of sleep, and we get our 10 hours of peace.  In which I do my happy dance pull on my stretchy pants and raid the pantry cupboard, eating all manner of treats that we don't usually allow Jesse to eat.  

It's a win-win situation really.

Long before bedtime she already starts asking which story I'll be reading to her that evening. I love to surprise Jesse with new and amazing stories that will set her imagination alight and pull her into dreamland thinking happy thoughts.

The night before last was no different to our norm.  The bedtime story was new to Jesse (the one where Jesus raises Jairus's daughter from the dead).  When we got to the end of the story, there was a picture of Jairus and his wife hugging their daughter, while Jesus looks on.  Jesse immediately piped up and asked, "Mommy, what is the little girl's mommy's name?"  I answered that I didn't know.  Upon which she stated categorically:  "Well, I think it should be Strawberry Deck."

I shudder to think what my grandchildren will be named one day.

Thankfully that's at least 52 years in the future.

I'm nothing if not optimistic, y'all.

If I won the Lottery

On invitation by my buddy Jo, I'm joining in the wishful thinking.  A day late, but never one to be daunted by frivolous things, like, oh, punctuality, I'm hopping on the band wagon.  It's the first time I'm linking up for one of these things, so hang on to your seats.  [An old dog CAN learn new tricks!]

If I won the lottery... *sigh!* ... I'd:-

1.  Kill the debt monster.  It's been a looong time coming.

2.  Buy myself any of Sarah Richardson's houses.  I have SUCH a design crush on Sarah Richardson and her sidekick Tommy.  But this design is my favourite:

(Sarah's Farm)

(Sarah's Cottage)

3.  

Next, I'd buy my parents this little house on the beach in Cape St Francis.

4.

And new cars for the whole family!  No more oil leaks, mechanics, being taken for a ride, etc.  [I'm pretty sure just thinking of this conjures up choirs of angels singing Hallelujah!]

5.  

Go on holiday here:

Don't have a CLUE where that is, but who says I can't go around the world in search of this place?

6.  
Set up a trust fund for Jesse and her future.

7.  
Set up a trust fund for helping friends or family with finance woes.  Anonymously.

8.  
Buy myself a Steinway.

9.  
Quit my job so I can LIVE the way I choose to, rather than being limited by finances.  Finally write the book I've been dreaming of writing my whole life.  Spend my days writing.  Reading.  Photographing.  Painting.  Getting manicures.  Playing with my little girl.  Watch her grow up.

10.  Never tell a soul I'd won.  

Some days I just look at her and marvel.

The one where we forbid boyfriends

Its been about a year and a half now that Jesse has been going to Nursery School, while the parentals are hard at work.  Needless to say, this has instigated many an interesting conversation, as Jesse watches the other children at school, then brings her endless quest for knowledge home.

.

Something else that she brought home with her was a sudden interest in little boys.  Which was never more pointedly obvious than one day not too long ago, when I arrived at her school to collect her.  

.

A little boy with pouty lips & a missing tooth came running up to Jesse-Lee and myself, then promptly informed me that Jesse-Lee is his girlfriend. I stuttered out an "oh really???" just before he put his arms around her, puckered up & planted a big pouty kiss on her lips! 

.

Then, with his arms still rather comfortably draped about her shoulders, he stood there beaming at her with his toothless grin & big soppy eyes.

.

At this point I might or might not have been gasping desperately for oxygen and clutching at my chest while seeing stars and imagining the ground opening up and sucking him in.

.

After I had extricated his tentacles from around my girlchild's shoulders, I made for the exit sign with the dust beating at our heels.

.

Once in the car, I said to Jesse: "Girly, WHO is that boy???"

.

Her reply:  "That is Thomas.  He's my boyfriend!"

.

Lots of near-fainting on my part.

.

Later, when the dear hubsband arrived home, I tell Robin the "boyfriend" at school story. 

.

Lots of laughing ensues. 

.

Later, he casually says to Jesse, "Jesse, you mustn't kiss the boys at school." 

.

Jesse: "No, Daddy, I really like it!" (At this point, lots of dizziness and hot flushes)

.

Robin: "You are not allowed to kiss boys until you're 35 yrs old!"

.

Jesse:  "No, Daddy, I can kiss boys."

.

Robin: "Don't, girlie. Boys have germs!"

.

Jesse: "Ew! I'm never ever kissing boys ever again!"

.

Scare tactics. They work. Hehe!

She speaks Jesse-Leeze

Me:  "Jesse, what do you want to become when you grow up one day?"
Jesse:  "A princess."
(I didn't have the nerve to tell her that Kate had already stolen that spot.  And Harry isn't tying the knot any time soon)
Me:  "And after you become a princess?"  
Jesse:  "A sunflower."
Alrighty then.

True, true and more true.

She's growing up.

Four, going on Fourteen, years old.
I need a pause button.

Out with the old, in with the new

I started a new job this week.  I am SO excited about it, I can barely stand it.  I am the personal assist to the director for Ministerial and Training at the Conference of our church.  Woooot!  Which means a lot of doing this-and-that... but also LOTS of planning, training, writing (yay!) and designing (HUGE YAY!!!) all the posters, newsletters et cetera that go into planning the training sessions.

I still haven't quite figured out how I landed with my butt squarely in the butter, but I am certainly not complaining.  I never was one who minded a greasy butt.  Ahem.  Did I really say that?

I was SO excited about my new job that I barely slept the night before.  I was awake at quarter to two in the morning and never succeeded at falling asleep again until last night, when I crumpled into bed before the crickets started chirping.

Such bliss.

Where I sit:

View from my spot (to my right side):

And some welcome flowers from my new boss:

Now, let the games begin!