Sweet 16

Today I think back 16 years. The day Marielle was born! What a sweet bundle of joy she was. I dubbed her "miracle baby", because she was whole, and healthy... because she could see and hear. That was not a "given", since I had had German Measles at 11 weeks into my pregnancy. We had had the option of aborting. It sends shivers down my spine to even say the word. What a beautiful, precious girl I would have missed out on.

So today is a day of deep thankfulness for her life. It is also a day of deep sadness. When one turns 16, you should have a proud daddy by your side who looks at his beautiful princess and sees what she has become.

Tonight we are going to light Chinese lanterns and send them into the sky. Oh don't mistake, I am not superstitious, airy fairy, making wishes on them, or in any way attaching meaning to them. I want them to symbolize something.... sending our light out into the world. These lights also end when the fuel has burnt out, as do we. But they give such pleasure while they are here, and remain in our memories. We are that too, in a dark world, little lights shining out. Let us make a difference to as many people as we can, while we are here.

The saddest day

That day started out like any other. There was no hint, no foreshadowing, no premonition of what was to come. Isn't that mostly the case?

Werner and I packed picnic stuff, cameras, chairs and were on the road before the sun lifted on the horizon. Excited chatter filled our car... looking forward to one of the biggest airshows in SA in many years. As the sun rose, we were seated in prime spots on the airfield, drinking thermos flask coffee, wrapping ourselves in blankets on this chilly morning.... 1 October 2011. Our lives, about to be changed forever...once again....with no hint of what was to come.

The airshow was amazing. A whole war scenario complete with rescue, was played out for us. The ground shook with pretend explosions that sent chills through my body and thoughts of the unbelievable horrors of war. It occurred to me to think: I am so thankful not to have lived through a war, not to have those kinds of images burnt into my mind.

As these thoughts and scenes played out before me, my children were on the road to Witbank with their dad and Cream Puff. They were spending the weekend with the Prof. As always, a sadness tugged at my heart. How is it, I wondered for the 100ths time, that I didn't choose to leave, but that I am forced to give the children up every alternate weekend?
Early morning smses from them to us, confirmed that they had seen the helicopters flying overhead on their way to us for the airshow. The delicate thread linking us to them in a common sight, made me smile.

Werner and I recorded the airshow, thinking in glee how we could share this footage with the children, oh how Arno would have loved to be a part of this and see it all. In the meantime, the stage was being set, and their lives were about to be shattered.

The first inkling of trouble came from an sms from Marinda: Mom, please pray for our safety. Veld fires have broken out on the farm and there are people out fighting them. The area hadn't received rain for a long time, and these fires break out in the grass and spread. They look innocent, but we knew from bitter experience that they can be deadly. Just recently we had prayed for families who had lost loved ones in such fires.
A quick whispered prayer, but my thoughts turned to the 2nd series of explosions being played out before me. The airshow was being repeated, and we were filming, desperate to capture these moments to share with the children.
My phone rang. The caller id showed me it was Arno. I could hear crying and an hysterical voice saying .... stopped breathing...don't want him to die.....
The explosions made it impossible to hear what he was talking about. Ironic that such news came with all the fireworks on our side. Shouting back into the phone I told him to wait, I would phone back when I could hear again.
Suddenly the explosions were no longer "fun", the filming irrelevant.  Why was it taking so long, so very long to stop.
The deafening explosions finally fell away, and I was able to phone:
Arno's sobbing voice: Mom, dad has stopped breathing, I don't want him to die. My heart broke. Pictures floated through my mind...I was helpless to help my child in his greatest hour of need.
Piecing together bits of the story, I gathered that Arno was with his dad fighting the fire, that Cream Puff and others were trying to resuscitate the Prof, and finally...that the girls were not in the same place as their father.

Praying and crying, I phoned Marinda, asking her to stay calm but to go to where Arno was on the farm. I told her that the Prof was being taken to the hospital. Then I phoned my cell friends asking them to pray.

We began to pack up, moving faster and faster. Ice was starting to run through my veins. What ifs starting running wildly through my mind, just like the fires were spreading on the farm. What if the Prof didn't make it? What if my children got caught in the fire...all things too terrible to contemplate.

Our friends were making calculations faster than we were. Our car was too small to fit all the children in, should we need to fetch them from the farm. We would have to drive the hour trip home, in the opposite direction, for the other car, before starting the 2 and half hour journey to the children. These friends jumped in their car and drove towards Pretoria before we had even started putting all the pieces together. They would meet us half way, to swap cars with us and take our car back home.

As we were driving out the gates of the airshow, when the phone call came. The phone call that I had never wanted to hear, not even in my angriest hours. Cream Puff phoned me herself: Yvonne, he didn't make it. Suddenly, we were no longer dealing with the prospect of taking children home while their dad recovered in hospital, but with 3 children who had just lost their father forever:  half orphans, children who were sitting alone in a house on the farm, waiting desperately for news....

Suddenly time, which had been moving so fast, began to drag by in slow motion. I pray never to have to  repeat such a journey again. It felt like it would never end. I wanted to take my children and hold them, keep the world of hurt away forever, but like flood waters rushing to lower ground, the inevitable was rushing toward them, about to flood their lives in such a way that they would never be the same again.

Swopping cars, we finally go onto the road to Witbank. The children had been sending frantic smses to me, asking me how far away we were, and what the news was. I didn't tell them the awful news I knew. No adult there to support them, I kept the rushing flood waters at bay for a short while longer.

Cream Puff arrived back at the farm. One look at her told the children exactly what they didn't want to know. Their father, had not made it. This person who was vibrant and alive that very morning, who had made lunch with them, who had meticulously packed that lunch away in the fridge after he had received the news of the fires, who had made just such plans in the event of fires, went calmly into action, sending the girls to look after the horses, and taking his son with him, with confidence...this person, no longer walked and talked.

I don't have the words to describe the shock, the disbelieve, the non-understanding that hits you, when you think but a few hours before, he had been alive and well. The feeling of disbelief, which overtakes you on day 1 and day 2...fades with time, as layers upon layers in the form of hours,days, months, eventually years, are placed between your last images of the person alive and now.

 It took us another 40 minutes before we would be there. I had never been to the farm, could scarcely take it all in. This morning, he had walked here, with the children, with the idea of spending the weekend, dreams of riding, plans for the future.... all that - wiped away in an instant.

The children were just broken heaps of little people when we got to them. We spent some time, not really knowing what to say or think. It sounded like the Prof had smoke inhalation and then a heart attack. The death certificate eventually simply stated: unnatural causes.

Driving home in the gathering darkness, the tears just fell and fell as though this sadness would never end.
The floods had overtaken us, we were powerless to stop the raging waters of grief.Would time heal, I wondered as we drove on and on in that dark night?

Slipping in unseen

I have a picture in my mind, of a teenager slipping quietly into a dark house, tiptoeing up the stairs, and trying not to be heard on their late way in. I feel like that! I want to tiptoe quietly and silently back into my blogging life, unheard and unseen. Kinda funny, as most bloggers want to be seen.

But today, not me. I want to write, crave the need for it's release...and so I tiptoe up the stairs, and slip silently into my writing seat, and wonder how I can possibly begin to tell you where I am, and where I have been. I thought the chapters of my strange story, were somehow done....but I was wrong.

Life takes the strangest turns... as you will see.

Out of the mouths of babes

Well yes, hello again - after a long break. If you are still checking back for posts I really must say a big thank you for your loyalty.

Here is my peace offering.

Two stories about Eric. His innocence and way of summing up a situation just makes that saying so true: out of the mouths of babes...

A few weeks ago, he was spending the weekend with us. Early one morning he came running through to announce, "I saw a bird".
Being the only one he can converse with so early in the morning (everyone else is still sound asleep), I murmured: "Really? Where did you see this bird?"

An indignant sigh, and the placing of hands on hips said more about his disdain for this question, than any words could have conveyed, "Through my WINDOW!"  Unsaid words hung in the air: do you really mean to tell me you can't figure out where I saw that bird?

Trying to regroup, I made another attempt:
"Oh, so what colour was this bird?".
Another sigh (you really are daft so early in the morning, Aunty Yvonne): "he didn't HAVE a colour, he just had lots of speckles."
His little hands fluttered in the air around his neck, making poking gestures to indicate "spots" - without colour.
"He was looking for water", Eric added helpfully.
"Uh huh! What did you tell him?" I finally got out past the huge giggle in my throat.
"Well, there isn't water outside my window. I told him...go THAT way".
The THAT was punctuated by a hand gesture, where Eric threw his thumb over his shoulder in a gesture you make to flag down a passing car for a lift. That gesture and moment were so fleeting and then gone, much like the bird itself, there for a moment and then just living in your memory. We laughed until the tears ran down our cheeks. He hadn't merely pointed a finger in the direction of water, but with real attitude, thrown a thumb over his shoulder, to indicate the direction the bird should go. Some of the same disdain remained, a silly bird, and a silly Aunty Yvonne: these people and birds need HELP.

My second story happened during the Easter weekend. Werner and I happened to be in Cum Books - Christian book store. We had Eric and Carissa with us. The store was hung full of banners showing a cross and a crown of thorns.

Eric stood for a long time looking at that crown of thorns. Finally, he turned to Werner and said: "If you put THAT on your head, you will have one heck of a headache".

The Devil wears Prada!

If you haven't gathered this before, I am so not "in" on fashion. One of the Prof's pet hates about me, was that "I would not suffer for fashion" - his words, not mine.

In that vein then, my following story.
The kids spent last weekend with the Prof and Cream  Puff. Being driven by "looks" as always, the Prof thought it a good idea to educate the girls into areas in which my expertise was obviously lacking. The following discussion turned around high heel shoes and went something along these lines:

The Prof told Marinda: You know, high heels really makes your calf muscles stand out, and you should learn to walk on high heels as a matter of course - and not just at year end functions.
That last bit was a direct dig at me, because I would only ever wear high heels to the year end function!
"So", he continued, "wear high heels, because it will make your husband's heart beat faster."
At exactly this point Marielle wondered in on the conversation and wanted to know what it was about.

Marinda turned out this very priceless comment: Dad was just explaining to me, that if I want to "keep" my husband one day, I will have to wear high heels.

Apparently  at that point, the Prof decided not to say another word.

Out of the mouths of babes? Well done my girl, well done.

10 and a HALF

Eric and Carissa spent the time between Christmas and New year with us. Amongst the hard stuff - there was cute stuff too. The "10 and a half" was cute. But wait. Let me start with the hard stuff and move to cute.

When we got the children, we picked up problems on day 1. Cream Puff apparently doesn't "DO" bedtimes. So, you may ask, what  DOES she do? Well apparently, she goes to her room when she is ready to retire, locks the door, and leaves the little ones to amuse themselves until they fall over. "Falling over time" for Carissa seems to be a 1 am in the morning. Sounds like child abuse to me.
SO... this presented boundary problems in our house - because our house rules say - bedtime - at 8pm, latest 9 pm during holidays. We bashed heads a few nights over this issue with them, until they came over to our way of thinking. Ha - more because we stopped naming the time - than because we were so clever. LOL.

The 2nd problem had me feeling like a class A witch. Eric is a very bad eater. He looks at food and decides: I don't eat that. Mostly I ignore him and get on with life, but one particular evening, when Werner had made lovely food that the kids all loved, it stuck in my craw. He would not even taste it. I looked across the table and said quietly: Eric if you don't eat that, you are not getting pudding either.
He looked at me with big beautiful eyes that said: O - I have heard that one before. My mommy threatens me with that all the time.

Dinner dragged to a close, with his plate being untouched. We cleared the table, and took out 1 pudding bowl too little. Those big eyes turned to disbelief as we had pudds and he had none. Later that evening, he told Cream Puff about it - I didn't get any pudding because I didn't eat my food. Don't know what Cream Puff told him, but in an attempt to get sympathy from her, he told her- and daddy doesn't put me in bed nicely every evening.

Werner threw his toys out the cot at that one. He told Eric to stop talking nonsense to his mother.

Well, the up side of the story is that after that episode - he tried to eat at least some of the food we prepared.

Now the 10 and a half. It began with Eric. He started to use it as a phrase for everything denoting "much". Eric would you like to go swimming - yes - like 10 and a half.
Eric, are you hungry -like 10 and a half. (Which of course is most of the time since he doesn't do our food!)

We now have a new and precious expression to add to our collection: 10 and a half.

Want to end off with that. I am typing this blog from work on  the first day of my NEW job! I wrote a while back - that I was making some life changes. SARS is a thing of the past. Now I think I can say - this new place is nice, very NICE - like 10 and a half! 

Today - is a GOOD day

I am not good with dates, and remembering stuff, but THIS Day - I remember. Today is my 2412Towers day! The day the Prof finally told me the truth.
People don't like me to "remember" this day, almost as though they want to shield me from it's pain, or to say - move on past it.

But this morning, having coffee with Werner, I unpicked it a bit. Here is how I see today:
Today is a day where we celebrate the TRUTH  Day! It is like an "axis" day, where my life began turning on the axis of the day, into a new life, new beginnings and a completely new world. At the time, that turning hurt so much I thought I would not make it. Looking back, I realise that the truth made me stronger, and the view I have from my new vantage point, is so beautiful.

Who could have though, 4 years ago, that today I can stand and look back, realising it is a celebration and not a total collapse? It is a day where I can say in my heart: Prof - I forgive you. You did not realise exactly what you began that day, but what you started that day gave me a new, changed life.
It is a day where I stand in thankfulness to my Lord and say: Thank You for carrying me through all these things to a better life, and finally, it is a day where I look to Werner and the children, and say thank you to them too for the love I see in their eyes. Their love is true and holds fast. Thank you!

So...despite how it looks, Today is a GOOD day!

Boys...you gotta love 'em

Long time no see, I know. But I am working on changing my life, making things tick on over... slower. More news soon. In the mean time ...my current "hot spot": BOYS.

Yesterday, murder was an option in our house. If it hadn't been for the fact that the "little darling" was writing exams (and I hoped the exam would do the job FOR me), it would have been a distinct option. However, by the time I got home, I had settled my thoughts into a steely determination. Here is what happened.

Last week, the LD (Little Darling = Arno), had to study. After numerous, countless times of saying nicely: Arno go study, and getting the reply: YES MOOOOOOOM. The reply changed after 2 days or so, becoming: but mom I know all my work - I have been through it THREE times already.

Then the weekend arrived, along with his best friend Keagan. Keagan stayed over on Friday night, and suddenly I was counting more blessings than I had considered before: Arno could have been a twin - horror.

We had giggling boys running around, bangs suddenly going off outside, boxes of matches disappearing, the cats were terrified, the birds kept flying away every time a cracker went off...you get the picture. At one such bang I marched out and threatened in an ugly voice: one more cracker - and I'll stick it were the sun don't shine. Eish - what have I become?

In between everything else, the boys wanted to shoot the air rifle, so we allowed them some limited shooting time. Werner told me to calm down - boys will be boys - leave them alone. But, every time an ominous silence sank around the house, I began holding my breath - waiting for an explosion of some sorts.

Well, all this came to an end when Keagan went home, and Arno finally sat down to study. Sunday evening he brought his books to be tested: great was my surprise, he only knew about HALF the work. This is the work he had been through THREE times , Mom??????????????
So, there began my unhappy streak with LD.

Yesterday morning, Werner came in from outside carrying his screw driver and some other tools. The boys had "borrowed" these and then left them lying carelessly around the house. Werner is so careful with his things. The evidence of the boys' total  disregard of  property was strewn around the computer room, the left overs of toys they had shot up. An aeroplane, a jewelery case, and a radio, taken apart and what was not taken apart - was shot apart.

I felt ill with anger and disgust. These things which they so casually threw away - could have rather been given to some children less fortunate than they. Werner again calmed me down with some wisdom: leave it for now... he has exams to write.

So..... the exam didn't kill him. I would have to do my own dirty work it seemed. When the LD got into the car, he got a very quiet, low voiced lecture of steely resolve. Along with the value of property lectures, the need to apologise, I added in a few more "new standards":

• I no longer want to hear a single word about GUNS, shots, calibres, or ANYTHING relating to shooting or destruction.
• I want intelligent conversation at the dinner table: try working GOOGLE,
• I do not intend to tell you again to study or clean your room
• DON'T ask or speak about the air rifle again in the foreseeable future if you value your life

I looked at this child, whom I love more dearly than my own life. Arno - you know I won't send you away to your dad - don't you? He quietly nodded his head. "Well, I may just give you to Keagan's parents, though..." , I added as an after thought. :-)

Later,  when the worst of the shock had worn off, he cleaned the kitchen, laid the dinner table, all without being asked.
Our dinner conversation was wonderful -not a single mention of guns.

It went something like this:
Arno: Mom what does IGNORANT mean.
Me: Ummm - well it means not knowing something. It has the connotation of not wanting to know, or not knowing something on purpose.

A while of silence, then :

Arno: What does BLISS mean?
Me: Bliss means wonderful, heavenly, why?
Arno: Well what does it mean when they say: Ignorance is bliss.
Me: Son, that was when I didn't know (and didn't want to know) what you were up to on Saturday: Ignorance was BLISS.

Physco CATS - we need a "cat whisperer"

O woe is me... wonder if I can start EVERY blog post that way... every one regarding the cats anyway?

Siamese... delightful, beautiful, cute, sweet... deep, dark, not too sweet, bratty, catty...and finally - SPOILT ROTTEN BRATS??????????????

Let me explain. We now have 3 cats:

•  One was rescued off the streets. No nonsense, no fuss cat
• One is a Siamese. Paid lots of money for her, looks like butter won't melt in her mouth, and until 3 weeks ago - I thought she had the sweetest disposition on earth. Often you would hear me say "Why do Siamese cats have such a bad reputation? They are too sweet and kind for words". Yeah right - I am EATING those word.
• Lastly the "wildish" kitten who arrived at our house to prove all my theories wrong

Tuppence - (street cat), took 1 or 2 peeks at kitten, and decided to go her own way.

Misty -  (Siamese), initially peeked, then got offended and disappeared for a while. After putting some thought into this matter of:  "this new cat has taken over my favourite sleeping place (Marinda's bed), en my favourite person (Marinda)," - decided to show us how disgusted she is with the whole setup, by pulling out the fur on her back!

Don't even THINK about saying "AG Shame". She is reacting like a spoilt brat. Initially we were totally freaked by this behaviour. We carted madam off to the vet who promptly put her on "anti depressants"... what the heck? Yep - apparently they can get anti depressants for cats. Now I am wondering - who thought that up? Some vet who had a "down looking" cat?

After 1 attempt to get pill down cat, I decided - NAH - we will have to live with a depressed, physco cat. So - since the Internet tells you - don't give them attention when they act badly - we ignored the fur pulling. Since this now no longer had the desired effect, Misty decide - in that case: I will sort this problem out on my own, and proceeded to the room to give kitten a huge hiding by chasing her round and round the room.

In fact - this behaviour continued until she had chased baby to hide underneath the Wendy house - where she stayed for about 3 days with no food and water, while we were away in the Drakensburg. Now you can say - Ag Shame!

Are you starting to get a sense of how mad I am with my "sweet" cat. Well then - times it by another 10.

This gives new meaning to the expression -" I will pull my hair out"!

Leave me alone, can't you see I am a book

O What have we done... woe is me....

We have been desperately trawling the pages of junk mail in search of a kitten. Our old ginger cat (who achieved momentary fame), when she was written about in Gus Silber's book- the parenting guide to PC's. I think that was the title? Anyway, allow me a minute to stray off my point. His daughter came to me for computer lessons, many moons ago. At the time he was writing his book about the parenting guide, and apparently observed Ginger meandering in on the window sill. He liked my computer school (thanks Gus!), and I was mentioned in his book along with Ginger.  As I said... momentary fame!!!

Ginger was old, and grumpy , and surprisingly - she improved with age. As the winters got colder and colder for her - we became more and more attractive - lap wise.

Sadly we had to have her put down due to old age - about 2 months ago. Since then, we have been looking for a "special" kitty. We didn't know what "special" looked like...were struggling to define it. I went from SPCA, to COSanc, and back to junkmail. Nothing. "Special" does not reside in these places, I concluded.

Last week, I half heartedly opened up the junk mail pages again. There was one ad which caught my eye. It was different from the others in that it had a pretty photo of a not so small looking kitten.
A Siamese. We have a beautiful Siamese at home already, so this was starting to feel like it might be "special".

I phoned and could hear these folk wanted a loving home for a stray kitty whom they fed.
Werner and I went to look. Kitty lived outside, with another kitty and an adult black cat who had adopted them when their mom disappeared. She was beautiful, but clearly quite wild. She allowed the family to touch her, but kept a wary eye on us.

We teetered on indecision: should we, or shouldn't we. Finally, looking at those big beautiful eyes - we decided to take a chance. The cats on this farm / plot are in danger - people poisoning them, catching them, and the folks who fed her - had clearly realised something needed to be done.

It took about an hour to catch her. It was almost as though she knew that we were there for her. She lead them a merry chase. The black cat was no help, sitting guard at the door, and warning the kittens when someone approached. Finally, heart breakingly, they caught her. I felt just awful, breaking up the threesome, but realised if we did not take this one, someone else would.

Rueful blue eyes looked back at me from the cage on the back seat of our car. Not a sound came from her.

We planned it all out before we got home. She would live in the girls' bedroom, until she adjusted.

Once we opened the cage, she flew to the windows and disappeared behind the curtains. Oh dear....what have we started?

She spent the night hiding behind the couch. She would not budge, eat or drink anything. She made no sound at all. The next morning as we moved around the room, she came out for a moment, ran to a bookshelf and "hid" in plain few. She turned her head away - and looked for all the world as though she was saying - LEAVE me alone- can't you see I am a book.

The "Popped" question

Yes, yes...some of you have been checking back, I know. Apologies.

Here is what happened....

We couldn't quite wait till Friday to "pop the question". It sort of gradually came out as the days passed, starting with little hints and finally ending in: so can we have the air rifle serviced.

In the mean time Werner had a heart attack... a month ago now. What a huge shock and trauma, it sent us reeling. He doesn't have high blood or high cholesterol and he isn't over weight. It all happened so very suddenly. We thought he had heart burn, the evening before. The next day we thought the same, except this time he was sweating and in a lot more pain than the night before. He still drove himself to the Dr, who immediately got his wife to drive Werner to the hospital. Their kindness, and the quick thinking of the Dr, probably did a lot to save Werner's life as well as minimize the damage.

After a stint in the theatre to unblock a clogged artery, Werner spent another 3 days in ICU. He was booked off work for a month. During that time, he found out where to have the air rifle serviced and took it in.

From the day Arno found this out Werner had taken the gun for servicing,  he began nagging : when do you think the gun will be ready? We finally told him - after Christmas. THAT answer kept him at bay for about 2 days...then it all started again. SIGH.

Last week Werner went back to work, and this week the gun was ready. Mmm...takes equally long to fix a heart and the spring of a rifle gun...makes you think!

In the meantime, back at the ranch...the room which Arno had been keeping squeaky clean (in order to pop the question), had slowly returned to it's former state - like water - looking for the lowest point to flow.

With renewed "Strictness" I informed my son that should he wish to shoot the air rifle, he had better get 85% on his NS test. Today he came home with a 95% thank you.

As I write, Werner and Arno are shooting at a piece of wood in the garden. Looking at those faces...you would not know which is the boy and which the man...the excitement is the same!

Popping the question

For months, actually - probably YEARS, I have been trying to get Arno to tidy up his room. The purpose behind this is actually multi-faceted. I was told that in order to ensure that he gets better marks at school, we have to teach him to "organise" his personal space. The idea is that the basis of learning, is being organised. In order to get his brain functioning in that direction, you have to teach him to organise his little world. (The other reason is simply to have a tidy house!)

Well, "organising" his little world, has turned me into something I NEVER was before... a NAG. I never, EVER nagged. Not in my previous life, and not in my "new" life. Until  now! Arno has turned me into a class 1 NAG. Every evening, before I step into his room, I start: Arnoooooo. "Yes mom, my room IS tidy", he pipes up - BEFORE the question is even asked. Every  morning I walk into his room and we have the same, tired conversation : Arno - but I thought you said your room was tidy? "I thought it was mom, I just forgot!"

I once got so angry at FORGOT that I told him I might "FORGOT" some things too, like feeding him. This produced an unsatisfactory result from him: he just giggled. Mom's don't FORGET to feed their children.

And so we battle on in the house, sometimes with more success, sometimes with less. Some motivational talks telling him how good it is for him, produce momentary spurts of enthusiasm, that last all of 12 hours.

That is.... until yesterday.

Last night I walked into his room, almost turned around and ran out to check that I was in the correct house. He had tidied up his room.... all on his own. Before I had asked. WELL!

I puzzled over this for a while. Quite a number of things have changed in our house over the last few weeks, not least of which is that Werner had a heart attack. We speeched the children about helping around the house... maybe that had some effect? Then Arno started scouts 2 weeks ago, and I keep hearing things about scouts honour, promises and so forth. Maybe he is working toward a badge or something... hey what do I really know about scouts.

Well, this morning the mystery was cleared up. In the kitchen, alone with his sister, he confided to Marinda: "On Friday, I am popping the BIG question!".

"What question", she asked.

"The air riffle", he said simply.

The AIR RIFFLE?

Well, the air riffle was given to us by my missionary friend, Jonathan. Arno loves that thing. But now the air riffle needs a service. We have been quite lax about finding someone who can service it. But above all, we have felt that Arno needs to show responsibility with his stuff, not leave it lying around, before we spend more money on it. Hmmm... something is sinking in somewhere!

So... I will plan out my answer - and wait...on Friday I get asked - THE BIG QUESTION!!!!

Reflections on thankfulness

Apologies, think I 've found out what writers block feels like!!!

This morning Marinda came into our bedroom saying, "Werner, it was so  nice to hear you pottering around the kitchen this morning, making mom coffee".

THAT was one very loaded statement. You see, Werner had a heart attack on Friday last week. We missed all the queues, and I have discovered, I had very little idea of what a heart attack might look like. We have funny ideas in life, and when you are convinced a thing will never happen to you, well... here is what THAT looks like:

He started with a feeling of "heart burn" the evening before. After taking Rennie's antacid tablets it seemed to ease - convincing us that our diagnosis was right. When he woke with the same terrible burning sensation in his chest the next morning we thought, SIGH, more of the same. Only, this time he was sweating and pale. I briefly wondered if I should drive him to the Dr, but he easily persuaded me that he could manage.

By 9am the Dr phoned me from his cell. "Yvonne, nothing much to worry about, but we are quickly driving Werner to the hospital to have his heart checked out. He is taking some strain, but don't worry, we are in time".
Reeling somewhat at that information, I packed up my life at work to head to the hospital. We have been listening to an audio book whilst driving around, and one phrase kept popping into my head from the story: we never know what the day will bring.

Once at the hospital, the gravity of the situation became clear. The cardio made no bones about it - "Mr Geldenhuys, I will see you in theatre in 30 minutes". Werner was agitated, and in a massive lot of pain, totally unprepared for the thought of theatre. He had some stuff to do you know!
Before I had started to fill in the necessary paper work, the first friends began arriving at the hospital. How did they get here so fast, I wondered. At the sight of a familiar face, I burst into tears.

The day started to tilt sideways. All the unspoken plans and routines, slowly slid off the once level platform. We never know, what a day will bring, we never know how fragile and precious a life is, and we don't realise how quickly everything can change.

Werner made it through theatre, where they unblocked an artery. The blockage had been there a long time, but that, together with stress and other factors - precipitated a heart attack. We never quite realised it, although in retrospect - the doctor had hinted at it. We thought  he had angina - which is simply a pain, but not an actual heart attack. Only when the Dr came straight out on Monday and said the words, did we realise exactly what had been happening.

Werner went from theatre to ICU. There he landed by some ironic coincidence, next to a man who had seemingly lost it. The patient's plaintive cries of : Nurse, let me go, you're drowning me. Sister, why am I here, let me go... - continued for about 6 hours, despite the nurses best efforts to sedate the distraught man. Eventually they put sedatives in Werner's drip to calm him down. It was essential to keep Werner calm, in the face of his heart problems.

I really never want to buy this post card again. This one was enough experience to last me a life time.
Once Werner came home on Monday afternoon, we looked at each other with new eyes and thankful hearts: we had had yet another 2nd chance. His every smile, his every action - precious beyond words.

It is going to take a while, to adjust our thinking. It is going to take me a while to stop flapping around him, to stop listening to his breathing at night, to stop wondering if he is still sleeping when he has gone for a 4 hour nap, or if he has stopped breathing and I should have gone in to check on him...
But - it is a small price to pay, for a 2nd chance, and if that is the price - I will gladly pay it.

If ever we wondered, what our friends and support structure were worth - we found out that we had more than we could ever have thought possible. We got love, prayers, meals, lifts, smses... we were completely overwhelmed.
So, all in all, we have as always - more blessing than we can count.
Thank you dear family, thank you dear friends.

Wedding pics

Wedding day - second time round

Wedding days ... are way better 2nd time round. You are more chilled about them!
I knew I wanted it to be different, I didn't want a traditional dress, a traditional look, or traditional music.

So it was none of that...and so much more.

We decided to let all the children be bridesmaids, and page boys - or in fact - whatever title they would have liked to be called. Next, we let them choose their own wedding garb. That was huge fun. We told each of the girls - "choose whatever makes you feel like a princess- we don't care what colour that needs to be". Colour co-ordination was also off the charts. In fact - esthetically - everything clashed horribly - and was absolutely beautiful.

Ashlyn choose purple, Carissa had pink, Marinda was in a shimmery  brown, Marielle and Nicole had purple and black and I had a burnt orange outfit. It was all good. The huge smiles we got when we bought the stuff, and their smiles on the day... proved us right . I think people faff too much with weddings.

Next, we got an unconventional minister. We found him by chance. He preached on a wedding video, taken by Werner's friend. We heard the sermon, and it touched a deep chord within us. Only later would we discover why. This minister - Jaco, does weddings by trade. Now before you think that this is unromantic (as I did), think again. I half frowned at his web site, and my  heart sank - I did not want to be married by some chap doing it as a living, who just rattles the sermons off one after the other. But on closer inspection, I discovered some gold, as one so often does if you stand still to look. This man, had been through his own trials and tribulations in life, he too had been through the pain of divorce - and he spoke my and Werner's "new" language. THAT was the chord he touched within.

We discovered that he was a careful planner, that each wedding is seriously taken, each sermon, carefully considered. He brought an element into the service that we would not have achieved with anyone else. He brought his experience of other weddings, where other people had started over, and included their children into the service. He melted together the best of the other sermons, in a way joining us up with others, brave enough to try again.

Now a venue (unconventional - of course). Well, the garden is real pretty, especially at that time of the year....we would just need good weather. It had the benefit of not costing us a cent.

Add a whole host of friends, willing to help, and the stage was set.

A last planning detail worth a mention was my friend Janine who makes wedding cakes for a living. "Can you take a joke", she asked. "Sure", we told her. We were in for a surprise!

The week before the wedding, we were once again packing up Werner's stuff, and moving it, this time for the final time.

The 6th of September dawned clear and bright. The weekends before, all had miserable weather. But on our wedding day, the sun shone brightly.

Looking out the window, I smiled at the sight of rows of chairs on the grass. How many people can say they got married in their garden?

My darling friend Lynette did the catering with her daughter who had just qualified as chef. Janine's wedding cake arrived - joke and all: 5 little icing children falling all over the cake, and tumbling out out of nooks and crannies! I even had Carina, at my side, all the way from Cape Town. I realised afterwards , she was my unofficial matron of honor - but we weren't doing "that stuff"!

We enjoyed the day so very much. There was no stress to it. When I realized I had ordered flowers for everyone but not myself – I simply shrugged, laughed and took Werner’s hand instead. During the ceremony, Eric got bored, wondered off, fell down on the grass and proceeded to play with the insects he found there.

The whole day was simple and sweet and full of goodness.  Our most precious loved ones were there to share our day... those same people who had seen us through so many hours of grief and tears, were now part of the joy.

My days and months since then, have truly been blessed and full of sunshine. I have never known such happiness and peace.

I will publish some wedding photos...tomorrow - SARS permitting of course!

Thieves (present)

So... if you think the world is flat and I Fell off the other end of it.... you are probably right. That flat world is my work - and the end of it is SARS. O I do love to hate SARS. They provide employment for me, but Filing season is just too dreadful for words.
So - the deep ,deep pit I have fallen in to,  is called FILING SEASON.

All my creativity and time and energy have fallen in to that endless pit.

Apparently - that pit will end sometime - they tell me this weekend.

But hey - when our programs go live - we suddenly have millions of users to find the bugs that all the cute testers did not!

On to other subjects. My friend at work was smash and grabbed on her way home - after working a late shift at work. (I knew working late was bad for your health). They hit out her window, which had anti-smash and grab on it. Apparently very little effort to get through that stuff. Those folks at the window places tell you that they will need to hit your window 4 times at least to get through the glaze on the windows...well they are wrong. So - if you thought that stuff kept you safe...then you are definitely NOT right.

Keep all your possessions in the boot of your car. They may still smash and grab you - but there will be nothing to take. Rehearse through your mind how you will react in certain situations, and train your mind to think of alternatives. My friend saw this coming, and was aware throughout the ordeal. She actually stopped far back when she saw them running between the cars, and she tried to keep her car moving. The red robot eventually caught her - and she could not go through the light due to oncoming traffic. She might have been able to go through the yield road in the opposite direction, but she was just not thinking that fast.

That is why I say - try to think through situations to help you react fast if it should be necessary. Isn't it so sad, that we have to think and behave in this way.

Your thoughts about overtime please? What do you do when pressured to work extra, and everyone else does it? It really looks bad if you are the only one saying "no". Now I am saying "no" in my heart, but yes with my actions...eish.

Writing down my stories, often puts such perspective into things. I was thinking about a title for this post and it suddenly hit me like a bolt out of the blue. The theme of both my stories has a common thread. The only difference is the one's action had violence in it, the other has coercion. Both have the element of something stolen.

Getting to know one another (present)

Starting over with someone new, means that you need to get to know that person (all over again ).  You love the person - but it takes time to build a level of understanding and confidence - just like starting a new job and learning everything from scratch.

So last week, Werner and I achieved a milestone of sorts, and it almost slipped me by... but for the fact that it made me smile.

Werner loves disks... LOVES what is ON them - should I say. It doesn't matter if they contain movies, music, photos - if you have it on a disk - he loves it. On top of it being a huge passion - it is the quality of the stuff that concerns him. If it is sound, then it must be clear, balanced  (and I don't know what all else), if it is a movie - it must display just right. You can't have "viviting", jagged lines, must have good black levels.... and above ALL - no "motion blur". Huh - I hear you ask. Don't fear - before last week - I had never heard the expression before either.

We have had a gorgeous big screen job that seemed just fine to me. Hubby dear, went to buy himself a blu- ray disk. With great excitement, brought it home and zapped it up on that screen.
The whole world came to a SCREETCHING halt. This HD "Ready" screen - could not cope with the blu-ray disc - so HD "Ready" - cleary doesn't mean it is "ready". The images showed "motion blur":  when the movement on screen was too fast for the refresh rate of the screen ( Um - I think that is the reason!)

Well, he phaffed this way and that way - putting in new cables, changing settings - all to get rid of the "motion blur". Then there was the day where he disappeared from skype for a few hours. (He and I chat on skype during the day.)

When he came back I asked him - "so - do we have a new TV?" I could just "hear" the laughter coming down the computer line. "Noooo".... he said... he just went to look, but how did I know?
Yes well, I wasn't born yesterday you know. I just have this funny feeling that the "HD ready" is somehow not good enough any more.

As though to prove that he too has an uncanny ability to read me, he was watching (self same blu-ray disc) a few nights later. I was making supper, and he was left pretty much to his own devices. He must have felt a bit lonely, because before long I heard a tune I love.
Peering round the corner, I hoped to catch a peek of the show. There sat Werner, huge smile on his face, like a cat that got cream:  "I knew that would get you to come over."

As for the TV... well, anyone want to buy a HD ready plasma screen? It looks just fine to me...but has this thing called "motion blur" - which is apparently "not cool" when you love everything disky.

The scary scarecrow (present)

We have a wonderful gardener. He stayed with me, after the Prof left - lucky me. I think the Prof asked him to work for him too, but at the time Owen didn't have extra days open, and chose to stay with me instead.

He was a saving grace in this big, daunting world of taking care of the property and garden by myself. I have never needed to tell Owen what to do, he just gets on with it. When I arrive home, the whole garden has been taken care of. How he manages to do it all in one day a week, I can't understand.

He started a veggie garden for me too. His enthusiasm is infectious. I have an understanding with him now; he takes veggies as he wants for himself, leaving more than enough for us. He asks for seeds, and when I see again - we are eating fresh veggies. This year - has been a bit harder. With all the rain - we had "crop failure".

Not daunted, Owen has continued to plant into the autumn. He started up some spinach, and to his disgust, the birds began eating it. His first attempts at solving the problem, was to put up some net. This only had the effect of giving the birds some nice shade to chow in.

His next attempt had us in stitches. When we got home one evening, we found a new character had been added to the plot! Yep  - he constructed a scarecrow. Where on earth did he find all the "parts" needed for this?

Our mirth at the new resident, only increased when the birds, quite happily carried on their destructive ways, right under SCARDY's feet.

We sort of forgot about Scardy, and the weekend arrived. It was a "kiddies" weekend. Carissa and Eric grabbed their bikes from the shed, peddled up and down the driveway for a bit, and then, unsuspectingly drove round the side of the house to the back yard.
It took but a moment before there were 2 screaming children coming like banshees through the door.
"Daaaaaaaaaaaddddddddyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.......there is a SPOOK in the garden - there is a monster there..."

Ummmm - it took us quite some time to recover from laughing. We introduced them to Scardy, and he has since been given facial features by the children. They stuck some sticks into him for hair, and had some fun.

So - Owen's scarecrow doesn't do much in the way of scaring birds, but works real good on scaring kids!

And Owen? Well, he has decided that if he can't scare the birds away - perhaps he can "outplant" them. My veggie garden is now completely planted up with spinach. In his heavy accent, he says to me: let's see if the birds can eat up ALL that spinach.

The 8th of the 8th (present)

I was challenged last week by my friend Karen  from MomAgain@40  fame, to post the 8th photo from the 8th folder and tell the story. Seems that bloggers play these games! Sort of like taking a map and sticking your finger down somewhere and saying- ok that is were we will go on holiday!

But, curiosity made me go look at the 8th photo in the 8th folder - to see where my life was at that stage. Mmmm...nice surprise - life was GOOD.

I was with all my loved ones at the botanical gardens. It was 2007, and Marinda and Ashlyn's (cousin) birthday celebration. Come to think of it - it was probably Ashlyn's  celebration- and we piggy backed onto Ashlyn's party. That is more likely, since Joan is much better at arranging these things than I am.

So... ok I cheated a bit. This was something like the 10th photo. The 8th one was out of focus, and didn't tell the story as well as the 10th one did!

Here you can see Roy taking a photo of Ashlyn (what a gorgeous attitude my niece displays!), and in the background, my missionary friends Cally and her children, together with Muff and Jack , my sister and my parents.
The divorce had happened shortly before, and yet - life goes on, and was good because of my dear family and friends.

You've got mail

Sorry for the silence. What SARS calls FILING season - we know locally in our office as SILLY season. That means SARS wants a whole years worth of development done in 2 weeks, and quickly sent out before people start filing their tax returns. Well, THAT time has started - the pressure is on.

Back to the story....

The children had kept our wedding news as a huge secret. Maybe it wasn’t so much a secret as the fact that they didn’t bother to inform the Prof or Cream Puff, of our intentions of getting married. (Good for them!)


Imagine his shock, when he found out 6 weeks before the wedding date? I do wonder gleefully- (sorry) – what went through their minds?

Anyway – an email unexpectedly arrived in my in-box from the Prof:

…I believe you have gone over to a brave decision. The children tell me you are getting married to Werner? I will never do that again… nothing against Cream Puff – if you know what I mean?

I read that and thought…actually – no – I don’t know what he means. He was prepared to break up 2 marriages, cause untold hurt to 5 children … and for WHAT? For a half hearted living-in arrangement, with no security, no commitments? Sorry Prof – I don’t get it at all.

And hey…what does that say about being married to me? It says that it was the worst part of his life. So,  if that were so,  I should have been the one, not prepared to marry again.

I think I can be so thankful, that the Prof’s unfaithfulness, did not damage my views of marriage.

Thinking back – I think the Prof’s view of marriage was always broken, which lead to even more brokenness.  A bigger insight is this:  I think he lived a self-fulfilling prophesy concerning marriage!