Tuesday Tip

Wag your tail.
We have a charming, adorable lady sharing our home. Her name is Daisy and she's a cocker spaniel. Miss Daisy is 10 years old which makes her a little over 70 in human years, she isn't aware of this and thinks that she is in fact about 3 years old. We humour her.
What I love about animals is their inability to hide their joy. If Daisy is feeling down, her tail is still but when something brings a rush of happiness to her heart she can't help but wag her tail, and most of her body.
Some of the humans I meet are too fearful to allow others to see what they feel, but it's so liberating.
So, when you feel sad, buck up, set those shoulders back and as you start to cheer up, wag that imaginary tail, even if only in your head, and feel as liberated as our doggy companions do.

Laughing at ourselves

We should all be able to recognise ourselves in many of the sitcoms we watch. My favourite is Big Bang Theory but I don't see me in it. One all parents should identify with is The Middle. We really enjoy this one. Three kids, a teenage boy, the middle child is a girl with braces and no grace and the third child is a strange but adorable young boy. We love this programme (this programme).
The mother was Raymond's long suffering wife in the sitcom I really didn't find funny and dad was the great janitor in Scrubs. He is currently unemployed and she is a used car salesperson on the brink most of the time of being fired. I think many people around the world will identify with them.
It's a sort of more modern day Malcolm in the Middle.
But you know what I like most about the whole thing, while mum is - as in real life - the tough parent, dad steps in when needed and is never portrayed as a bumbling idiot as seems to be the norm with most family life comedies.
Have a great weekend

New order

Not for takeaway, although my mum tells me there's a man in Australia who's been measuring hamburgers for twenty or so years and, they're getting smaller! However, the Aussies have a new Prime Minister, not only was she born in Wales but she's a redhead to boot. This should bode well for OZ but, what do I know. They have a new Labour minister while UK ousted them and went over to the Conservatives. Perhaps the time has come for change world wide, or maybe people get a tad bored with what they have and seek change.
2012 is coming ever closer and anyone who's interested in the Mayan calendar has a different idea of what it may bring. We see so many things going on, be they natural disasters, new government policy around the world, new eating habits, whatever. Do we pick up on these happenings only because we've been given notice so to speak, or is there a definite shift. We'll know soon.
One thing I do know, call me squeamish if you will but today I read about a new decor item. You can buy a cowskin soccerball. O.K. so far. But this one (of many I gather) is identified by the individual cow's name and number. Yeuch. I think that is awful.There's a photo, not of the cow thank goodness but the ball.
What next.

Different strokes

We had a great weekend. Friday evening Rowland and I went to a smart prizegiving in a big hall. Table decor was appropriate for the event, what appeared to be go kart tyres with candles burning inside, wine on the table and the starter already at each place, covered in clingfilm. I was a tad dubious but that was the start of a really good meal. Around 1100 people were served, efficiently and quietly, a most acceptable three course meal. The prizegiving was long but that was of course the whole point of the evening. Finally, dessert was eaten and the disco was cranked up. The love of my life had promised me two dances - you may recall I love to dance - so I was geared up. However, I had forgotten that this 95% afrikaans crowd would be dancing to a different beat so to speak. From young (early twenties) to old the guests were up on the dance floor doing the more modern version of "langarm" - for those not from these parts, that is a sort of waltz on too many red bulls done with the partners' right arms pointing out front. This dance now appears to have evolved and the couple both face forward (no more dancing backwards for the ladies) and the man puts in some quite intricate footwork while twirling his partner and dashing around the dance floor.
If I sound to be mocking, I'm not. I I love to watch the enthusiastic couples and marvel at the energy and sturdy thighs that go into the dance.
Saturday evening was a surprise 40th birthday party, also mostly motorsport fraternity at a sports club. It was one of those delightful family affairs, children running around, ten year old boys with their hair greased up, trying to break dance while the girls ignored them. The music came from a juke box and was wicked. One person with no music in them changed tunes just as I was about to enjoy the headbanging part of Bohemian Rhapsody but that aside most enjoyable.
So why was no-one dancing. I mentioned this many blogs ago that the generation who are now around forty years old don't seem to dance. Caroline also mentioned the same thing once I think. It's sad.
A gentleman of around 75 or so years came through from the bar, still clad in his bowling clothes, a little stout but, those bowlers are limber. After asking the general crowd why no one was dancing to Staying Alive - ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive - he proceeded to do the whole John Travolta dancing bit, complete with pelvic thrusts and arm outstretched. If only Mr Travolta could have seen him.
So kids, get out on the dance floor, please.
Then came Sunday, Fathers Day. We were a party of ten for breakfast, Sion and his ladies were still away on holiday, much missed. We went to Philadelphia (Western Cape not USA) to a delightful place called Pepper Tree, it was chilly at first but the coffee and hot chocolate soon hit the spot. This small restaurant gets 4 stars out of 5 for a great breakfast and friendly, efficient service. Not to mention really keen prices. There's a pottery and gift shop and across the road Magic Minerals where you can buy crystals, singing bowls and many other items from two uber-friendly and helpful people.
After breakfast our driver, Rowland, took us on a tour of Cape Town, over the new flyover, new roads, around past the stadium, through the Waterfont and along to see the ferris wheel.
What a good weekend it was, we'll need a few days to recover.

Tuesday Tip

We enjoy entertaining, not too often these days what with the cost of living etc. but there is something so nice about having friends over for a meal.
Whether you're an old hand or new to the hospitality game I find this tiny tip works.
I write up a timetable (a small one) and tuck it into a kitchen drawer. A sort of crib note you might say. That way I know that I won't forget to put the potatoes into the oven or indeed, forget the potatoes altogether. Let's face it, when you haven't seen folk in a while it's easy to get caught up in conversation and no matter how experienced you are, you can leave something out.
It's not a biggy but this tip just might make the evening run a little smoother.

Budgie Smugglers

I've just read an hilarious piece in the Tonight section on IOL about the rise (once again) of the dreaded Speedo. Written by Jan Moir with such lines as
"The type of man who wants to show you his bacon and eggs before you've even agreed to have dinner with him, let alone breakfast".
Read it and enjoy.
A man just came into my office to ask if we do speedo repairs, funny.
Whilst scanning the article I also read that Turkey will be holding the 649th Annual Oil Wrestling Festival next month, what will they wear? And roll on next year for the big 650.
The vuvazelas just sounded 12 noon, school children have left the buildings for 5 weeks and the unions are trying to get in on the act, as ever, wanting businesses to give their workers friday afternoon off.
I'm looking forward to the World Cup. I'm a soccer fan, my man Wayne ( a fellow redhead) is playing for England so of course they'll have my support but most of all, I'm looking forward to the influx of visitors who have no idea how wonderful this country is. The brave people who've ignored the world press berating our country and opted to come anyway, sans bodyguard, armed only with pounds, dollars, euros and yen. I expect the visitors to Cape Town to be gobsmacked at it's beauty and I hope they won't be too disappointed if all is calm.
I hope all is calm. Gees is the word used, pride I think. So whether you're a fan or not, ( one customer pointed out to me that he doesn't like football OR soccer), it's only a few weeks out of our lives and a chance to host the biggest sporting event we've seen here. So, "Do it for your country broo" and give the world a good SA welcome.
Even if they're packing in the Speedo and vest.