We were about to leave home. The car door wasn't even closed yet.
My daughter: "Put on the heater! Put on the heater"!
"We don't need a heater...."
"I'm FREEZING!"
"Well why aren't you wearing a jersey?"
"Because nothing goes with this outfit."
(I swallow, pause, then quietly:) "What about that nice jacket I bought you?"
"Huh!"
It wasn't the 'Huh'. It was the sidelong look that went with it. Fleeting, but enough to convey pity, disdain, my total lack of comprehension and finality. THAT is the look I want to see on every ANC face when the subject of Jacob Zuma's presidency is raised.
Tuesday, 26 June 2007
Monday, 25 June 2007
General Info Category
A General Information Category has been added to the links on this site, including telephone directories, postal codes and Braby's business search, maps and directions. I will add links as I come across them. Hope you find it useful.
Saturday, 23 June 2007
The Move
"Daddy, please can you put my computer in my bedroom?"
"Sure, Sweetheart."
"With this stand."
"It's a bit big, but we'll make a plan."
"Thank you Daddy! I love you!"
You poor sucker.
Her room didn't have space for the computer, which is why it was in the lounge in the first place. And, of course, a father's delusion that his child actually wants to be in his company while she's playing on the computer.
In truth, I had been thinking that it was time to swap bedrooms anyway and give her the bigger room. At thirteen, she needs space. All I need is a gap for escape and to sleep. So, bravely and resolutely I enter her room, then mine, to start the planning.
Three days later, I am not the same man. Covered in Band Aids and bruises, an aching back and a "crushed" foot, I wonder why they can't just stay small. Smaller is better. Except, of course, for the recurring dream of that wonderful knight in shining armour who will whisk her away one day on a white steed and make her dreams come true, while raising beautiful, well-behaved grandchildren who stay small. Then I look at the boys she likes - and I know...reality sucks.
First things first. Before I move furniture around, clean the walls of her artwork and philosophies. "Mr Muscle" has never let me down. With sweat running torrents down my forehead and burning my delusional eyes, I finally see that whiteboard markers don't come off mat paint. Neither does pencil. Some lipstick does. Eyeliner, to a degree. A lot of substances just fade. Not like enthusiasm - that disappears completely.
So .... already exhausted, a quick trip to the paint shop. This wasn't part of the plan. Paint the spots. Paint one whole wall. Guess what? It needs a second coat.
Day two. Right, now we can actually start the move. Okay, with all the cupboards full, where do all the clothes go during the change, without getting in the way of furniture in transit? Clothes first or furniture? Chicken or the egg? Gotta empty stuff before you can move it. Gotta have stuff in place before you can pack it.
Day three. Finally. After dropping a heavy object on my foot and all but crushing it. After hammering an industrial staple into the soft mound of my zap finger so that the blood shot out like a fountain. (I miss it. I feel stupid showing another driver a zap finger with a Band Aid on it - he probably thinks I want him to kiss it better...) After hands have been shredded by walls, furniture and detergents. After multiple bruises and back clicks that activate suffering like the click of a mouse on the pain button. At last:
"Sweetheart, your computer is in your room."
"Oh, thank you,Daddy," she gushes, "I LOVE it! You're the best"
As you manoeuvre your aching muscles into your mattress that night, hardly believing what you've done to yourself, a little voice calls out from your old domain:
"Daddy ....! I miss my room!"
You discover that the other hand also has a zap finger.
"Sure, Sweetheart."
"With this stand."
"It's a bit big, but we'll make a plan."
"Thank you Daddy! I love you!"
You poor sucker.
Her room didn't have space for the computer, which is why it was in the lounge in the first place. And, of course, a father's delusion that his child actually wants to be in his company while she's playing on the computer.
In truth, I had been thinking that it was time to swap bedrooms anyway and give her the bigger room. At thirteen, she needs space. All I need is a gap for escape and to sleep. So, bravely and resolutely I enter her room, then mine, to start the planning.
Three days later, I am not the same man. Covered in Band Aids and bruises, an aching back and a "crushed" foot, I wonder why they can't just stay small. Smaller is better. Except, of course, for the recurring dream of that wonderful knight in shining armour who will whisk her away one day on a white steed and make her dreams come true, while raising beautiful, well-behaved grandchildren who stay small. Then I look at the boys she likes - and I know...reality sucks.
First things first. Before I move furniture around, clean the walls of her artwork and philosophies. "Mr Muscle" has never let me down. With sweat running torrents down my forehead and burning my delusional eyes, I finally see that whiteboard markers don't come off mat paint. Neither does pencil. Some lipstick does. Eyeliner, to a degree. A lot of substances just fade. Not like enthusiasm - that disappears completely.
So .... already exhausted, a quick trip to the paint shop. This wasn't part of the plan. Paint the spots. Paint one whole wall. Guess what? It needs a second coat.
Day two. Right, now we can actually start the move. Okay, with all the cupboards full, where do all the clothes go during the change, without getting in the way of furniture in transit? Clothes first or furniture? Chicken or the egg? Gotta empty stuff before you can move it. Gotta have stuff in place before you can pack it.
Day three. Finally. After dropping a heavy object on my foot and all but crushing it. After hammering an industrial staple into the soft mound of my zap finger so that the blood shot out like a fountain. (I miss it. I feel stupid showing another driver a zap finger with a Band Aid on it - he probably thinks I want him to kiss it better...) After hands have been shredded by walls, furniture and detergents. After multiple bruises and back clicks that activate suffering like the click of a mouse on the pain button. At last:
"Sweetheart, your computer is in your room."
"Oh, thank you,Daddy," she gushes, "I LOVE it! You're the best"
As you manoeuvre your aching muscles into your mattress that night, hardly believing what you've done to yourself, a little voice calls out from your old domain:
"Daddy ....! I miss my room!"
You discover that the other hand also has a zap finger.
Jozi Kids
I received the following e-mail from Merle at The Jozi Kids team this morning. Go ahead and check it out.
Hi,
A very useful link I do not see on your blog is a site that will help families find what they need for their kids in Gauteng/
www.jozikids.co.za has 1000 listings and over 200 categories of whats on offer for kids and their families, from extra-murals to products to day outings to party services, you name it ....
It was launched at the beginning of April. It offers users a chance to review what they know and read what others say to help them choose
Child or family friendly services get 1 free trial month and thereafter pay from as little as R60 per month
Check it out , its unique and will totally inspire you to do things with kids or appeal to the kid in you.
Best regards,
MERLE
The Jozikids Team
011 482 4310
info@jozikids.co.za
www.jozikids.co.za
Hi,
A very useful link I do not see on your blog is a site that will help families find what they need for their kids in Gauteng/
www.jozikids.co.za has 1000 listings and over 200 categories of whats on offer for kids and their families, from extra-murals to products to day outings to party services, you name it ....
It was launched at the beginning of April. It offers users a chance to review what they know and read what others say to help them choose
Child or family friendly services get 1 free trial month and thereafter pay from as little as R60 per month
Check it out , its unique and will totally inspire you to do things with kids or appeal to the kid in you.
Best regards,
MERLE
The Jozikids Team
011 482 4310
info@jozikids.co.za
www.jozikids.co.za
Friday, 8 June 2007
Strike It Lucky
They earn little enough. Six percent of a Minister's salary is a big number. Six percent of next to nothing is of no help in the supermarket. We entrust our lives to these people. Teachers, nurses , 'essential' services ...... come on, Government. You are wasting a fortune on crap and crapping on a fortune, a treasure - our people.
It becomes harder and harder to take our leaders seriously. It would be comic if the consequences for our children wasn't so tragic. Is there a department other than Trevor Manuel's that works properly?
I support this strike. Just behave, guys. Don't become a bunch of irresponsible thugs in the process of striking. Show that woman that you are intelligent, civilized people to be reckoned with.
And get my kid back to school!! Please!
It becomes harder and harder to take our leaders seriously. It would be comic if the consequences for our children wasn't so tragic. Is there a department other than Trevor Manuel's that works properly?
I support this strike. Just behave, guys. Don't become a bunch of irresponsible thugs in the process of striking. Show that woman that you are intelligent, civilized people to be reckoned with.
And get my kid back to school!! Please!
Wednesday, 6 June 2007
eNaTIS Works
Yes! eNaTIS is working! (Well, it was yesterday.) The Traffic Office in Marlboro was relatively quiet - and it only took two and a half hours to register a change in the Title Holdership to a vehicle!
(Licence renewals seemed to be moving faster, though.)
The wonderful thing about living in this country is that you get a thrill out of accomplishing the simplest tasks, taken for granted elsewhere.
(Licence renewals seemed to be moving faster, though.)
The wonderful thing about living in this country is that you get a thrill out of accomplishing the simplest tasks, taken for granted elsewhere.
Tuesday, 5 June 2007
After the Weekend
Tuesday. Well, Nashua Mobile never did return any of my calls or my e-mail, but I did manage to contact them in the afternoon. The gentleman I spoke to insisted that they are open on weekends - in which case someone there had better check their voice message which says: "These offices are closed ....."
Anyway, the phone did get blicklisted by the afternoon and I got my ITC number to be able to report the crime to the police. I dreaded going to the Bramley Police Station, but after some heavy sighs I made my way there.
Surprise. Couldn't have been easier. My commendation to Inspector Ramohlola, who made it all very relaxed and very pleasant. He couldn't have been more helpful or more pleasant. Thank you, Inspector!
Now, while the adranaline is still rushing and my faith restored in at least one government official, I think I'll make that long overdue visit to the Traffic Department and lock horns with the notorious eNaTIS again.
Sigh.
Anyway, the phone did get blicklisted by the afternoon and I got my ITC number to be able to report the crime to the police. I dreaded going to the Bramley Police Station, but after some heavy sighs I made my way there.
Surprise. Couldn't have been easier. My commendation to Inspector Ramohlola, who made it all very relaxed and very pleasant. He couldn't have been more helpful or more pleasant. Thank you, Inspector!
Now, while the adranaline is still rushing and my faith restored in at least one government official, I think I'll make that long overdue visit to the Traffic Department and lock horns with the notorious eNaTIS again.
Sigh.
Monday, 4 June 2007
Cancel Last Weekend
The weekend sucked.
Friday school was cancelled due to demonstrations. (Don't blame them!) My daughter, not like her, decided to clean and reorganize the kitchen. She stuck to the task she'd set herself until mid-afternoon and did a splendid job. (I'm so proud of you!) Then our day changed.
"Daddy, why is the stuff in the fridge hot? It's all melting!"
Excrement hits the fan. It's served me well - the fridge, not the excrement - but it's an old model, not CFC compliant, so I can't have it regassed. Three o'clock. Stuff it, I'm unemployed and my credit card does NOT need this now.
Dash down to Game to see what is on "Special" and if they can deliver the next day, Saturday, so that the food doesn't all spoil. Great, there's a fridge and they can deliver. No problem. It's wider than the old one and there is only one spot in the flat's kitchen for a fridge. Can't take the chance. Jump in the car and rush home to measure. It'll fit. Just. Right, now get back to Game before it's too late.
Where's the remote for the gate? Lost. Search the flat. Search every square inch of the route from the garage to the flat. 4:30pm and my mood is very bad. My daughter begs me to borrow a remote from the caretaker. Eventually I agree. The caretaker has mine. Some kind soul found it and handed it in. Thank you to all concerned. We're back in business. My credit card is accepted and I buy a fridge. Delivery guaranteed. Cancel the promised ice skating for Saturday and promise to take my daughter Saturday night instead. She rises to the occassion. What a girl.
Saturday. We go NOWHERE. We know it will probably only be in the afternoon, but we don't budge. We wait. Every time the buzzer sounds, we jump - but it's always a buddy of my daughter's. The freezer of the old fridge is at the bottom section, so I don't throw out any of the ice, trying to preserve what food I can. Newspapers all over the kitchen floor to absorb the water. Mop up at regular intervals. All day. Cook what can reasonably be cooked.
6:pm. Still no delivery. (No call to say they can't manage, either, and obviously, after 3:pm, no answer fom Game.) My daughter is distraught.
"To Hell with them," I tell her. "Collect your stuff and your friends - let's go skating."
9:00pm. "Daddy!!! My cell phone has been stolen!! And my money!!!"
Some little bitch had taken my daughter's bag to the 'Ladies', emptied it out and dumped the bag behind a rubbish bin. Check with the manager. Check the tapes. Cannot see anything on the video tapes.
The phone is on contract and I still have 18 months to go on the contract.
Phone Vodacom, who block the line immediately. Very helpful person. Thanks Vodacom. Cannot blacklist the phone, because Nashua Mobile's Customer Care is closed. By now it's after 10pm, so I pile the kids in the car and we search for Honeydew Police Station. Find it. They're not going to open a case without the Service Provider's reference number. Not even if I phone them with the number later.
Sunday morning 11:30. The fridge is delivered.
Monday 11:30 am. I am still trying to get through to Nashua Mobile's Customer Care, since 08:30. Already spent a fortune holding on. Left a message at the prompt for them to call back. Can't afford to keep holding. Went to their website and e-mailed my message. One of their operators will call me back - "Soon"! Still can't blacklist the phone or even report the theft until I can get hold of them.
Stuff Nashua Mobile. When I do get to speak to them, I still have to face the ordeal of the Police Station.
Ice isn't my favourite subject.
Friday school was cancelled due to demonstrations. (Don't blame them!) My daughter, not like her, decided to clean and reorganize the kitchen. She stuck to the task she'd set herself until mid-afternoon and did a splendid job. (I'm so proud of you!) Then our day changed.
"Daddy, why is the stuff in the fridge hot? It's all melting!"
Excrement hits the fan. It's served me well - the fridge, not the excrement - but it's an old model, not CFC compliant, so I can't have it regassed. Three o'clock. Stuff it, I'm unemployed and my credit card does NOT need this now.
Dash down to Game to see what is on "Special" and if they can deliver the next day, Saturday, so that the food doesn't all spoil. Great, there's a fridge and they can deliver. No problem. It's wider than the old one and there is only one spot in the flat's kitchen for a fridge. Can't take the chance. Jump in the car and rush home to measure. It'll fit. Just. Right, now get back to Game before it's too late.
Where's the remote for the gate? Lost. Search the flat. Search every square inch of the route from the garage to the flat. 4:30pm and my mood is very bad. My daughter begs me to borrow a remote from the caretaker. Eventually I agree. The caretaker has mine. Some kind soul found it and handed it in. Thank you to all concerned. We're back in business. My credit card is accepted and I buy a fridge. Delivery guaranteed. Cancel the promised ice skating for Saturday and promise to take my daughter Saturday night instead. She rises to the occassion. What a girl.
Saturday. We go NOWHERE. We know it will probably only be in the afternoon, but we don't budge. We wait. Every time the buzzer sounds, we jump - but it's always a buddy of my daughter's. The freezer of the old fridge is at the bottom section, so I don't throw out any of the ice, trying to preserve what food I can. Newspapers all over the kitchen floor to absorb the water. Mop up at regular intervals. All day. Cook what can reasonably be cooked.
6:pm. Still no delivery. (No call to say they can't manage, either, and obviously, after 3:pm, no answer fom Game.) My daughter is distraught.
"To Hell with them," I tell her. "Collect your stuff and your friends - let's go skating."
9:00pm. "Daddy!!! My cell phone has been stolen!! And my money!!!"
Some little bitch had taken my daughter's bag to the 'Ladies', emptied it out and dumped the bag behind a rubbish bin. Check with the manager. Check the tapes. Cannot see anything on the video tapes.
The phone is on contract and I still have 18 months to go on the contract.
Phone Vodacom, who block the line immediately. Very helpful person. Thanks Vodacom. Cannot blacklist the phone, because Nashua Mobile's Customer Care is closed. By now it's after 10pm, so I pile the kids in the car and we search for Honeydew Police Station. Find it. They're not going to open a case without the Service Provider's reference number. Not even if I phone them with the number later.
Sunday morning 11:30. The fridge is delivered.
Monday 11:30 am. I am still trying to get through to Nashua Mobile's Customer Care, since 08:30. Already spent a fortune holding on. Left a message at the prompt for them to call back. Can't afford to keep holding. Went to their website and e-mailed my message. One of their operators will call me back - "Soon"! Still can't blacklist the phone or even report the theft until I can get hold of them.
Stuff Nashua Mobile. When I do get to speak to them, I still have to face the ordeal of the Police Station.
Ice isn't my favourite subject.
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