A Different view

I haven’t been keeping up with my blogging and every time I think, I must blog, I find something else to do.  Life is as busy as you make it and finding time to blog is always there.  I’m just out of ideas on what to say.  Some days I’m full of wisdom and bright ideas and some days I’m a blank, dark empty vessel waiting for my moment of inspiration.

S0metimes I look at people and think:  why are they so blind and ignorant to life? How is it that I see things, actions, sayings or subtly nuances in everything around me.  I’m able to read a persons body language on a first meeting.  I’m able to gauge correctly what someone was saying when they were saying something completely different. I love sitting and watching and listening to people talk and knowing when they are lying or improvising or simply saying what the other person wants to hear.  Now don’t get me wrong, there are people out there who I am unable to read.  Maybe their wall surrounding them is too powerful and they have become someone else entirely and then I’m unable to pick up on their true spirit.  Just think to yourself:  How many of those people do you know?  I think there is possibly many of those people walking among us, who deny who they truly are and create a substitute persona who they think they should be.  Scary? Yes!

But more scary is I’m able to pick them out in a crowd.  I say “I love yoghurt” and they say “I love yoghurt too”, even if they hate it.  They seem to think if they agree with all I say and do I will not see who they really are.

Another scary thought:  I’m able to know ahead of time how things will turn out.  If someone will fail.  If someone will do something in a certain way.  How people will react. If I feel they are a threat, they normally are.  As i get older I’m able to see more clearly.  It does affect my reactions to other people.  If I see how it will turn out, I’ve tried to help, but it doesn’t work that way.  People don’t want to know or they prefer to be ignorant to the truth as I see it.  I have a gift. 

I don’t and never have said I like something if I don’t.  I never have run with the crowd.  I’ve always stood on the side and watched.  If I didn’t like something I wouldn’t follow or agree, even if the entire population turned and followed that route. It simply does not phase me if I’m sitting at a table where  everyone else is sucking on lobster legs and I’m eating chicken. I’m not influenced by it.  I’m not going to change my mind about who I am or what I like or prefer.  I like chicken so I eat it. 

The world is made up of so many different personalities and it would be boring if we were all alike, so its all right if some see you as different, because you are.  Just use your gifts that you were born with in a useful way which makes you happy and complete.

I wish that those that choose to follow the stream would turn around and try swim upstream.  Its hard at first, but worth the strife and pain, to be yourself.  So what if I’m different! I like it!

Now on to another topic. Books: I’m reading another James Patterson Novel ,”Double Cross”. It of course features Dr Alex Cross.  I just love the psychological thrill this story brings.  Facing 2 psychotic killers and always coming out on top.   Its a fast paced novel, bound to keep you turning the pages wanting more.  Give it a try.


Ok, so I haven’t blogged in a while. I’ve been busy with lots of projects.  Knitting projects and reading and living and being a Mother.  Life does not seem to wait for us, does it? Slow down I say. Let me think. I like to be busy. Rushing from one point to another.  Starting a new knitting project and seeing it completed. Reading is the same.  Opening a book, absorbing the words, becoming engrossed in the drama unfurling. Turning the last page, thinking which book do I start next? In between all that, I’m being a mother and a wife. Being a mother to a 4 year old isn’t the easiest vocation. It consists of dressing, giving food and keeping him happy at most times, which is very difficult as he is an extremely fussy little boy.  He says with a clear conscience “This doesn’t taste good”.  Even though he has eaten it on occasions before.  Life grinds us down slowly, but we always climb back up and continue with our journey.

Life is the making of memories. Memories that will keep us eternally young in our minds.  Treasure them.


Spring is here with all its good and bad qualities.  First the new blossoms that fill the tree branches and gardens make a beautiful statement and then the pollen which is floating about in the breeze and making me sneeze.  Still Spring is the best time of the year for me and I welcome it



I have otherwise been busy with knitting an afghan and enjoying it immensely and reading another novel by Collen Mc Cullough called “On, Off”.  Another super novel.  Worth reading.  Full of suspense and drama.

I’m not a bag full of news or information today, but I will be back and maybe I will have some interesting topic to write about, but until then I say good-bye.

It’s difficult to find or think of something interesting to write about when my mind is on other things.  For example knitting and wondering what to buy our little one for his 4th birthday.  Being 4 now is so totally different to 18 yrs ago when my eldest turned 4.  Being 4 now is “big’ and it means “big” presents.  The 4 yr old’s today play PC games, watch movies and drive battery operated vehicles and “know everything”.

Still turning 4 is a big, important event and it will be enjoyed and celebrated.  The cake, sweets, balloons and hats are just a small part of it.  Presents a large part of it.  Our little one thinks “Father Christmas” brings him his birthday presents too.  I haven’t the heart to tell him otherwise.  Let him have his belief , before we blink he will be all grown up and mature and fairy tales will become a thing of the past.

I’m going to bake him a dinosaur cake and its a surprise.  I haven’t baked for many years, but baking is similar to riding a bicycle; you don’t forget.

Well as to my knitting; its coming along nicely and I’m learning something new daily. I must admit I’m somewhat addicted to knitting.  I’m learning to read and knit at the same time.  I’m feeling extremely clever at the moment.

Must go.  My needles are calling me…:-)

Up To Date

I’ve been slack this week and haven’t blogged since Monday.  I’ve been busy with my knitting projects.  I’ve suddenly discovered knitting again after many, many years and I decided to take up the hobby.  I’m enjoying the clicking of the needles and seeing the end product.  Knitting is productive and I’m creating hats, scarfs and soon blankets and more difficult projects which I look forward to.

Well, I am seeing the little signs that Spring is on its way.  What a relief as Winter was a hard one here.  Frozen fingers, chilblains on feet and a numb nose are not pleasant side effects of Winter.  I just need to see and feel the warmth of Spring and feel rejuvenated and new again.  A new, fresh start again. With that thought I long to see my older children who live about 300km away. We spend every day watching them grow up only to watch them leave to begin lives of their own.  It is very hard been a mother and parent.  We lose something so precious, so priceless, a little beaming face who looks up at you with a sparkle in their eye, someone who suddenly grows up right before your eyes.  I do miss those days.  I am lucky because I do have a “laat lametjie” who fills my heart with joy and I’m so lucky to still have a little beaming face who looks up to me.

Now I going to talk books.  I’m at this moment busy with a novel by Ian Rankin , “The Naming Of The Dead”.  Its of course excellent, just like all his others.  It is An Inspector Rebus novel and he is an interesting character who solves the crimes over and over again with ease.  I recommend it to all those crime book lovers.

Thats it for me today…


I’m not sure how I feel today or what to write.  I’m at odds with myself.  I feel off kilter a bit uneven in my feelings and thoughts.  I’m not focused.  I’m up then down.  Not feeling very clever or stupid.

Monday again.  Funny how it rolls around so rapidly.  Well not “funny”, maybe sadly.  Days go by, nights roll over and everyday the sun rises and we begin “it” all over again. “It” means day, routine, tasks…..and so on. 

Sometimes I think about the end of the day and lying in a warm bed and at ease.  The end of the day. Knowing all our tasks are complete, wondering what tomorrow will bring.

We are unable to alter what we said or did during the day.  We can improve upon it or never say or do it again.  To chose the latter  is maybe being unfair or unrealisticWe are who we are….



Cover of "The Dentist"

Cover of The Dentist

My day began like it always does.  Early!  To lie in bed and languish and wish for more time is not me.  I get up immediately and begin my day.  Coffee for me and hubbie and milo for my little one.  The coughing of my little one did keep me up more than usual.  I feel an added tiredness and weariness.  Its part and parcel of being a mother and parent.

The little one is packed and made ready for pre-school.  He is dropped off and I am readying myself for one of my least favorite visits: The Dentist!!. I simply despise going.  The smell, the coolness, the drill, the syringe and the paper bib and being at the mercy of the dentist.  I feel so vulnerable lying there with my mouth wide open.   I begin to feel apprehensive, wishing it was all over.  The drilling, digging and tugging and blowing cold air in my mouth creates an unpleasant taste in my mouth and I imagine myself leaping out of the chair and escaping out the door.  I watch the clock.  Only a few more minutes and it is all over. I leave the building with one side of my face paralyzed. I’m told not to eat or drink until the feeling in my mouth returns.  I’m starving.  I never ate breakfast.

Once afternoon is here I’m back to normal, but my little one is not himself.  He declines lunch and instead plays alone in his room.  Presently he complains of tummy pain and feeling tired.  It happened so unexpectedly and I wasn’t prepared for the vomit that shot out his mouth all over the couch and floor.  Poor chap.  He looked awfully green in the face.

At this time, 7:00pm, he is bathed and tucked up warmly in bed.  I think he will be fine.  Maybe it was the chocolate milkshake he drank or maybe a bug picked up at school.  I hope he allows me to sleep peacefully tonight……

Headaches & Books

Its mid week again and i have a mild headache coming on.  Mild now, but it could escalate into a more painful one.  It all depends on how I react to everything that happens in the process of my day.  First a stranger parks in front of my garage and even though I have asked him to move, he has as yet not moved.  Then my little one comes home from school and he has lost the scarf I spent hours knitting for him..It was the first time he has worn it.  The throbbing in my head started then. And if I eat another jelly sweet my head will get worse.  Why am I getting headaches from eating sweets?

Why do I allow myself to get so annoyed and anxious about little things? 

I am at this moment reading another John Katzenbach novel, “Day Of Reckoning”.  So far so good. Excellent writer, full of intense , fast paced, psychological terror. A book I recommend you to read.

I’m back to my headache.  Its starting to become more than a faint throb.  I will take something soon.  Maybe once I’ve done my hour on treadmill I will be fineI love peace and quiet.  So calming, so serene.  No stress, no rush, no noise.  I am sitting quietly, trying to relax.  I love this quiet little town “Cradock”.  It makes you or it breaks you.  Its not breaking me and it certainly is making me into someone new.  My headache is slowly diminishing.  Thats what it takes:  peace & quiet.  Inside and out!



Do events both good and bad have a positive effects on us?  Do we learn from them or are we compelled to repeat them over and over again?  We might not touch a hot stove again, once been burnt, but if we become preoccupied wont we again touch the stove?  So if we are not thinking we might then repeat the same bad event or behavior over again.

We know that eating and eating fatty foods every day all the time will make us fat, yet how many people who get slim after been overweight, become overweight again.  Don’t they learn? Do they lose focus or just not recall how bad they felt when they were overweight? 

When I was about 5 years old I was badly mauled by our own pet dog.  An Alsation, predominately black. I had stitches in my neck, my arm and my ear was hanging lose.  I was in hospital for a few days and during the time I became fearful of my mother never coming back.  I became fearful of everything that moved. I’m fearful of large animals.  I learnt to horse ride and by learning this skill I learn t I could control things, animate and inanimate.  So in order to not feel fear I had to be in control.  I mastered the power to stifle my fear about things that I had no control over by wearing anger and  aggression as a mask.

I remember joining in with my siblings and climbing up a ladder onto the garage roof and when they climbed down, I was unable to get down.  I was filled with fear.  The ground was so far down.  I was going to fall.  I feared the pain.  So an adult had to be called and I was “rescued”.  I am now fearful of heights.  I cannot look down on a high bridge of building.  I feel gravity might reach up and grab me and pull me down.  I’m not taking a chance, so its no rock climbing for me.

I recall a lot from my childhood, but not all.  I remember the negative events, the fearful events and the feeling of having no control.  I remember always feeling different from everybody else.  I saw things differently.  I saw more.  I could tell from facial expressions and body language what was really being said silently.  I still have that ability to see “more”.  I see what most others do not see.

I remember the fear of the dark and I still to this day have a fear of the dark.  Darkness conceals things and things look different in the dark.  There are more things to fear when the lights are off.

When I was 8 Years old I recall my father dying, but I cannot remember him hugging me or making me feel loved.  Why?  I feared him.  I sometimes hated him.  When he died there were more things to fear.  I feared school and telling my friends I didnt have a father anymore.  I was once again different from everybody else.  Most kids at school had 2 parents, I only had 1.

Growing up wasn’t easy.  I felt unlike other people. I became distrustful of strangers.  I am still distrustful of strangers.

So our memories make us who we are today.  Our experiences shape us to who we become.  Our fears form our future fears.  Some incidents we learn from and some we repeat.

Some memories I wish to recall, some I never want to remember.  Some bring fear and pain and anger.  Those I will never repeat.


Anxiety another word for mental distress and excessive worry.  I’m inflicted with anxiety most days and try as I do, I can’t seem to shake the worry.  Worry about everything.  Will I be all right today?  Will my son be safe at playschool and not fall off the jungle gym again.  Worry the bump he sustained from the fall isn’t something to worry about.  Can we control our worry?  I’ve tried to hide it on the outside, but it controls the inside and I end up making myself feel worse, instead I should maybe admit  that I’m a worrier, control freak and paranoid and accept myself and endure these episodes of extreme anxiety.

Most of us climb in a car without wondering if we will reach our destination.  I of course wonder and worry what is around the corner and imagine the most terrible event  still to come and I breath a sigh of relief when I’m home again.  Safety.  A place where I can control most things and keep dangers at bay and hide behind a closed door. 

What will tomorrow bring?  Will it rain?  Will I be ok?  Will I feel fine?  Sometimes these worries control me and all that I say and do in a single day.  I’m unsure if I even have a positive bone in my body.  There have been times I thought positive thoughts and felt positive about things.  Most times it didn’t last.  My critical, realistic personality takes over.  I just see and know what is possible in this world and maybe I want to be prepared for what is to come.  So if I tell myself this could happen, then if it does, then I’m prepared.  So if you think it might rain, you take an umbrella and when and if it does rain, you have an umbrella.  Now I call that being prepared.

Being prepared every day, all of the time can be tiring and draining.  It weakens the immune system and one day you wake up you discover you’ve somehow got the flu.  So I think maybe I’m not able to control all things and stop bad things happening to my family.  Maybe I can just try to accept things as they occur and deal as the moment requires.  Why should I worry about things that in most likelihood will never happen.