Sunday afternoon in 'sunny' South Africa. The consistant patter of raindrops reassures us that the floodwaters are still being abundantly fed. It's a season for ducks and tow-truck drivers.
In our complex, "quiet time" on a Sunday is between 2pm and 4pm. I know that it's soon after 2pm, because my daughter has just turned up the volume of the DVD that she and her boyfriend are watching, in a subconscious teenage effort to combat the curse of adult tranquillity. (In the spirit of fairness, she has just gladdened an old man's heart by complying cheerfully to my request to turn it down!)
25 weeks and counting in the miraculous formation of her little boy. The pregnancy is both exciting and daunting. If I thought that the mood swings of the monthly curse were excruciating, I had some surprises in store! I feel for her ...the sensitivities of pregnancy just have no chance against the harshness of life's daily realities. Despite her increased needs for attention and sensitivity, life around us insists on continuing in its perilous path of demands and inevitable consequences where demands are not met. "Utopia' is more a case of "You Cope Here".
Medical Aid in this country is, I've discovered, no Utopia either. Despite it being the biggest single monthly wage-eater after accommodation, the specialists still insist on a sizable "levy" for each visit, which is not generally recoverable from Medical Aid - it seems to be their way of overcoming the restrictions of charging medical aid rates.
(I've added a listing on this site under "Health and Wellness", in case anyone would like to check the major Medical Aid schemes. However, if any visitors to this site have recommendations in this respect, we'd be delighted to hear them.)
Being neither a duck nor a tow-truck driver, I think a short snooze would be the order of the day. Perhaps I'll dream of the perfect medical aid scheme in a world where tumble-dryers don't pack up when the rainy season starts.
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