Thursday, 28 March 2013

so i wanted to donate bone marrow BUT

Ok so I finally decide that I want to be a bone marrow donor.  I felt really good about this decision.  

And then I called the Sunflower Fund only to be told that at 47 I am 2 years too old to be considered as a donor.  Now I don't get this ....... they are begging for donors ....... they are short of donors ..... and when you are a donor they keep you on the registry until you are 60.  So if you can be used up to 60, then why can you not apply at 47?  No-one has been able to tell me that. 

So as I am already a blood donor, and still need to find another outlet for my wish to have become a bone marrow donor, I am now going to the SANBS on Tuesday to enquire about platelet and plasma donors.  It takes 90 mins to 2 hours at a time I am told, but I know there is not an age restriction since my boss is a donor and is older than me. 

Who knew it was this difficult to want to help. 

And if anyone knows the answer to the why can I not be a bone marrow donor after 45 question .... please tell me. 

till next time, Blessed Easter to you all   

c'est la vie 
xxx
Apheresis
Platelet: Platelets play a vital role in blood clotting and prevention of excess blood loss. Platelet donation is a simple process that takes about two hours to complete. The blood is processed through a cell separator, which retains the platelets and returns the other blood components to the donor’s system. This procedure enables people to donate platelets every month.

Plasma: Plasma contains many important components that can be given to patients with special needs.
Plasma donation is a similar process to platelet donation, and takes about 90 minutes. The blood is processed through an aphaeresis machine that filters out the plasma and returns the red cells and other cellular components to the donor’s system.

As all the red cells are returned, these donors are able to donate more frequently than whole blood donors. Specialized equipment is needed for plasma and platelet donation, so these procedures are only carried out at particular donor centres or branches.

After donating, eat well and increase your fluid intake for the next four to six hours. Do not smoke for at least 30 minutes. Also avoid strenuous physical exertion and lifting heavy objects with the arm used for making the donation for at least two hours afterwards.

Wednesday, 20 March 2013

the tale of the traffic officers

Ok ... let us talk about traffic fines.  And traffic fine givers.  And traffic fine receivers.  Now we all get them (those of you who don't are a bit weird I think). 

En route to Umdloti in the first few days of January, I had the two Matric girls in my car, whilst Eug drove down with the two Gr 8 boys.  Sexist we are.  The whole way, 120 /123 km/h ... and vigilant, as the road to the coast was a myriad of traffic police and radar cameras.  I watched all the way.  Then here half way along the trip, is a loooooong downhill and the girls are telling me some "skinner" about school and I am glancing at them ..... how was I to know that during that glance I would not notice the speedo creep to 131km/h and how was I to know that the downhill was letting us go a tad faster?  Well I did know when Mr Traffic Officer jumped out in front of a road full of people driving fast, and flagged me down.  Damn.  He politely explained my predicament and proceeded to fill out what is a very long form for the fine.  Humph!  In the meantime my annoyingly keep to the speed limit all the way to Umdloti, husband pulls up.  However the traffic officer does not know he is my husband.  Eug winds down the window and says "Yes officer, give her a fine, she was speeding I saw".  "Ok", says the officer, "please carry on driving sir".  But Eug persists "It is people like her that need to get fines".  With a lot less patience the cop says "sir, I have asked you to please drive on, we are handling it".  I think by the time he understood from me that it was my husband, he was ready to arrest him instead. Maybe I should not have admitted our relationship.

When we got home I got two of those annoying AARTO envelopes.  Always the highlight of the visit to the post box.  And there on the same trip, just past Pietermaritzburg, I go through a 120km/h camera trap doing 126 and exactly 9 minutes later through a 2nd one doing 125.  So it was a somewhat expensive trip.  I did however manage to make it back to Pretoria a week later without a single ticket. 

I remember many years ago driving up Paul Kruger Street on my way to a hair appointment.  Time was of the essence to get there and here I find myself behind a metro cop car, which was being driven at about 18km/h..... now please understand ...... I held back as long as I could but eventually when I realised I was going to be 2 days late for my appointment, I indicated like a good citizen and overtook him.  As I pulled in front of him he switched on the blue lights and the siren.  Bit of overkill I thought.  A simple pull alongside and show me to pull over would have also worked.   Now when he got out he brought everything .... ticket book, gun, gum and the walk with attitude.  "Lady" he said "what kind of a person can overtake a police vehicle and pull in front of them?".  Now I truly believed that my answer of "any person" was not unreasonable because I did not think there was a bylaw against overtaking a cop at a reasonable speed.  However the speech that followed would have made a person weep, if they were not already late for their hair appointment.  He let me off with a warning .... but flip it took long to deliver it. 

Then there was the time we were in Nelspruit or somewhere around there (don't feel like going to Google to find out what it is called now) ..... and we needed to go to the Post Office (why the hell did we not go before we left Pretoria) ... so we driving down the road and I spot the Post Office on the opposite side of the road.  So as we are halfway down the block I thought a quick u-turn would be appropriate.  Now yes, there was one of those little 1m high signboards which I am told means no u-turns .... but surely that does not apply to out of town people?  So as I start making the u-turn Eug says "don't turn here there is a cop".  In fact I think he said it 3 times, it was hard to hear the other 2 as he was shrieking quite hysterically.  As I straightened the car (after the u-turn), aforementioned cop hit the siren and approached us on a very big motorbike. "What the hell were you thinking", muttered aforementioned husband.  Now outside the post office were A LOT of people waiting to use the phones.  Now this cop went even bigger than the hairdresser one.  Gun, finebook, truncheon looking thingy, helmet, leather gloves and a walk like he had just got off a horse.  "What arrrre you doing", he asked me.  I thought "a u-turn" was a perfectly honest answer.  Clearly he wanted me to lie as when I said that little answer he went completely deranged ...... he delivered his speech with froth coming out his mouth and wrote the fine with such firmness I think he went through about 6 carbon pages.  Jeez talk about sweating the small stuff.  I wanted to suggest anger management but felt perhaps it was not the time. 

Now in their wisdom whilst widening the N1 highway they put up camera traps to keep people at 80km/h and under.  However the highway is now almost done and we have 5 lines in some places and 4 lanes in others.  I am talking about a major highway between Johannesburg and Polokwane .... have you ever seen 5 lanes of traffic hurtling along at 120km/h (the speed limit on the highway) and then suddenly see a huge yellow camera trap on the side and all brake to get under 80km/h ... do you know what chaos it causes when you do 120, slow down to 80 and then back up to 120?  So since I do not want to be part of a chain accident and have my Henrietta bumped either front or rear, I do what EVERYONE who rides on that road 6 times a day like me, does.  Just keep going.  And every now and then it flashes.  AARTO letters .... they must be headed towards me. 

Yes, Officer, I did see the speed limit sign. I just didn't see you. 



Till next time
c'est la vie xxxx


Monday, 18 March 2013

Little boxes

Been thinking a lot lately about people and the choices we make and what we do and don't get told by them and what we can believe and what not.   Yesterday Father Chris had us totally engrossed in his homily about labels we give people and boxes we put them into. 

It made me think on two levels .... Labels I give other people and labels people give me.  How easily we make a decision about someone and put them into a box with a label and then sadly, as Father Chris says,  we tend to never allow them to leave that box again, even if they change, sometimes for the better.  There is no-one that is not guilty of this labelling thing.

If you are outgoing and full of beans some label it simply as being "loud".  Others however will label it as "exuberant".  If you are pleased with what you achieve at work then some may label it as "bragging" whereas others label it simply as "enthusiasm and passion" ... And so the "boxing" goes on.  What really always fascinates (and annoys) me is people who label people (often negatively) that they have never met face to face.  I hate it when someone makes a call about me and my personality in a negative way if they have not met me.  Except of course if it is positive .... Then you must ensure that you live up to your label of course.

I am sure many of you are familiar with the Gospel in which Jesus says "you who are without sin can cast the first stone" .... There was no-one.

So when you hear something about someone else, think about the source of the information.  If you are going to say something about someone make sure you have your facts right.  And those that label you ..... If it does not apply ..... Just let it pass over your head .... C'est la vie as I say.



Till next time xxx

Saturday, 16 March 2013

Thursday, 14 March 2013

descent into darkness

So having read my friend Nick's very succinct go at Delta Airlines and their service, let me join the fray with my 6 month old Samsung S III.    Bought with an arrangement offered by FNB it is a joy as I can run several email addresses and have all the bells and whistles as along with my IPad it is my office.  Until the screen went lime green yesterday at 4pm ... Making my kids' photo on my home screen look as if they were about to vomit.  The blackness gradually started sliding in from the left leaving me only able to dial numbers with the digits 3, 6 and 9 in them and read only the right half of messages, leaving them way open to misinterpretation.  By 7pm nighttime had descended onto my phone ... It vibrated to tell me it was ringing or there was a message whilst I stared at the blackness trying to play some sort of read the Samsung mind game. 

FNB have declared themselves the deal provider.  Samsung plonked it into Vodacom's lap as my service provider.  The phone was studied under a microscope and a tiny tiny hairline crack found on the side.  Which it could have arrived with originally.  So Samsung wiggled out of the warranty and my phone is in the 7 to 21 days repair shop while I shudder to think what a screen repair on such a pricey phone will be.  Kudos to Vodashop Brooklyn.  They tried their best to backup my SMS' and very vital phone numbers of all the contacts I have made in the last year in business .. No luck ... Will lose it all.

So without a phone I feeling like I lost a chunk of a body part .... And note to myself .... Go to Vodashop every other month and pay R30 to have all my phone stuff backed up onto a CD .....wisdom in hindsight .... But we have to write the test and then learn the lesson in life hey.

And I pondering again the question ... To insure a cellphone or not? 

Till next time .... Don't phone me
C'est la vie xxxxx

Tuesday, 12 March 2013

You have reached your destination ... Really??

Due to me having appointments here, there and everywhere for my job, the NPO kindly bought me a TomTom.  Now aforementioned gadget has actually come in very handy over the past year and has safely taken me to many places all over including other provinces. 

Let me rephrase ..... it has taken me to many places ....... 98 % of the time, correctly. 

And then there is that other 2 %.  Shortly after getting it, I had to go and see a major mining group at their impressive head offices in Jhb city centre.  You can see their offices from far, not only because they take up several blocks, but because they are so beautiful.  That's great, but I am driving, not flying.  So I entered the address into the TomTom.  It told me it could not find it.  A street that has been a part of SA for about 3652 years.  So I had to drive by keeping my eye firmly on the target.  Not so easy in the city centre where every 2nd street is a one way and when I was not dodging taxis I seemed to always be going towards the other cars.  

Then on another spectacular occasion, my BF and I had to attend an evening function in Jhb, once again right in the city centre.  I entered the street address and number and the TomTom smiled and steered us there.  It was all going well until the British lady announced "you have reached your destination".  It was 7pm.  We were in the centre of Jhb.  In what looked like a taxi rank.  The only people around us were hawkers doing their last veggie trade for the day and taxi drivers.  And the people were staring at us as if to say "are you two out of your flippen minds?".  Definately not anyone for the Jodi Picoult book tour.  So we drove on, randomly sticking to the street name.  3 blocks down we see 3 Jhb Metro cops standing.  We pull over .... I ask them where the venue is located .... (it is a reasonably well known one I believe).  They tell me they don't know. I tell them the street address.  They still don't know.  I wondered if they were actually just dressed as Metro cops and were on their way to a fancy dress party???   So we keep going and lo and behold a further 2 blocks down spot the destination on the left.  What the hell was Tommy TomTom thinking?

And then this afternoon ...... 

Nic has been chosen to go to a soccer tournament in Bloemfontein in 2 weeks' time.  This afternoon was his "debut match" with this team he is now part of, in preparation for the tournament.  I wanted to watch since these boys have welcomed him with great enthusiasm and warmth. 
So I tell my beloved TomTom where I want to go after searching for it under Schools in the Points of Interest section.  I have never been to the school they played against.   Tommy lists the school quickly and off we go.  

I know the area more or less, just need to pinpoint relevant school.  I head off and start going through a small industrial area, which is fine as it is around there somewhere.  Then the TomTom indicates that little chequered "you are close" flag and starts showing that I am 120m from the school.  She (who does the speaking for him) then announces in her stiff upper lip voice, "you have reached your destination on the right".  Yeah right.  On my right is an engineering company.  Next to it a bathroom manufacturer and so on and so on.  I check on the left in case I am confusing the two sides .... ditto for industrial.  "Great move", I say to Tommy.  He winks, very impressed at having taken me to .... where the hell am I?.  I go on a few blocks and then u-turn and come back in case he is confused.  120m down the road Madame announces "you have reached your destination on the left" .... which is the same right as earlier.  

I stop next to a pedestrian .... he tells me I must follow the road past the station and go on for 3 blocks.  Great, but now the station is on the other side of the bridge ..... how did you miss that one Tommy my boy?  I do as told and am delighted to see a "schoolchildren crossing" sign.  I arrive at the school and circle the block twice.  Nowhere do I see a soccer field or our team's jerseys.  So I make my 2nd enquiry .... as some kids come out the school I ask them where their soccer field is.  "We don't play here", he politely tells me, "Go back to the main road and follow it past the primary school and the field is on the left".  I thank him, mutter under my breath as I have probably missed about 20 mins by now, and head off AGAIN.  I refuse to make eye contact with Tommy TomTom and he has worked out by now that best he and Madame the Speaker, shutup. 

Down the main road I go, past the primary school and there on the left is a huge sports field.  A huge, empty sports field.  I start looking around for a Liquor City as I feel the need for some shooters.  I call 2 people I know at my son's school and eventually am told to just carry on down the road and keep looking left.  I do so, whilst still looking for any store with the word Liquor in it's name. 

I see the fields, I see our blue and gold jerseys.  I park and do a Usain Bolt sprint to the field.  Not long after I see my boy score his "debut goal" for this team, with his left foot nogal.  His new teammates go crazy, to put it mildly.  And I was there to see it. 

After the match I get into my car, look at Tommy and tell him I still love him, we all make mistakes after all.  



Till next time
c'est la vie xxxxx


Monday, 11 March 2013

THAT dress

Matric dance dresses.  Yes I know that it is now only March.  Yes I know the dance is in September.  However if you have a daughter in Matric then you know that 6 months is going to pass in a flash and when you start that long awaited (code for take alcohol along when you finally start looking for dresses) shopping ...... you should at least have SOME idea I have learnt.  And trust me, my BFF has had 2 daughters matriculate from the same school as Jess, this dress finding thing is not for sissies. 

It is not just the long or short and which colour choice ... there follows also a plethera of other "stuff" ..... beading, slits, gathers, finishing, crossover, cowl neck, open back, closed back ..... etc etc ..... my Ipad and our home computer have a file for Matric dance dress photos ....... it would rival the size of the current Guinness Book of Records' thickness. 

She had a definite idea by January .... she has been looking since Gr 1 after all.  So I started saving those "kind" of photos for her.  When I showed her she had already moved onto a slightly different idea .... and I seem to have spent a lot of time behind the curve.  Her and I are now on the same page .... so I regularly will be found in malls, outside boutiques, skulking to take photos on my cellphone of dresses in the window.  I have to skulk, because at Menlyn one day I took a photo only to have the shop assistant storm up to me and chastise me for "trying to steal their designs" .... no actually lady if Jess had really liked it you would probably have made a sale.  Note "would" have.  No longer.  I tend not to hand copious amounts of our hard earned cash over to people with behavioural issues.  And steal the design?   She clearly has never seen me sew haha. 

We did see the most perfect and breathtaking dress in a shop at an "upmarket" centre awhile ago ... we raced in, hearts pounding .... and then raced out, hearts pounding.  The price tag said R11 000.  I was sure we had misunderstood.  It took 2 strong cappuccinos at Vovo Telo to catch my breath.  R11 000?????????? Not in this lifetime baby. 

So we keep our eyes open ... and I know that before September comes around, she will stop in front of a store window one day and gasp ..... and I will think "oh thank heavens" and pray that the price has at least only 4 figures. 




till next time
c'est la vie xxx


Saturday, 9 March 2013

"your mother" and other lovely language

Now sport at school & club level always involves bad language.  It just does.  The level of it is determined by the sport itself.  As the amount of sporting equipment in my house will rival a branch of Sportsman's Warehouse, with Nic playing 7 days a week and Jess 5, I see a lot of matches.  

Let's start with swimming galas....this seems to be a very refined sport.  In the 10 odd years that Jess has swam on the school team I have yet, either home or against another school, to hear bad language.  The swimmer who comes 3rd does not lean over to the winner and bust loose in some description of her, her life, her family or anything else.  Ever.  

Then we have hockey.  This is not as refined I have discovered over the past 10 years.  Amazingly girls hockey seems to be the bigger problem here.  I see Nic play many schools and naturally there are the jibes and less polite comments but when the girls play ?  Sjoe!!  Now my kids' school plays hardball with kids who trangress the rule of how they behave both at home and away games, and our kids take it seriously.  However we have played some opposition that tempted me to bring along a good old cake of Sunlight soap and a bucket of water for those mouths!!!  These girls would make some sailors blush and I am often astounded by what Jess tells me has been levelled at them.  

Cricket is fairly gentlemanly ..... but it has that very special thing ...... the bowler's "stare".  It works like this .... really good bowlers bowl the ball to the batsman and then if it brings aforementioned batsman no runs, or is a ball that clearly means business, then the bowler walks back to his position in order to bowl again, whilst looking back over his shoulder and giving the batsman a look that would turn you to stone.  How do I know how tense this bowling thing is?  My son has been the opening bowler for years.  At professional level it seems the stare is also accompanied by a few words and they are not "so how is your day so far?".   It also seems to be quite popular for the batsman to be goaded by the fielders of the opposition ..... some interesting sentences come out of this as well :)

And then ...... then we have the greatest mouth game of all ....... football.  Now understand that soccer is HUGE in this house.  Nic plays for his school, a club and last year for the provincial team.  So soccer is a 7 day a week thing.  If I add up the time, I have spent at least 8 years of my life only next to a myriad of fields all over.  I speak soccer lingo, I get the rules but am never at a non-entertaining game.   Now this is where the real deal comes in in terms of "talk".  Soccer and mouthing off are synonymous.  Now firstly .... why is it that mother's are the centre of so many comments?  I never hear players making derogatory remarks like "your uncle is...... " or "your dad is ......." or "your cousin is ..........".  But "your mother", well this week some of the opposition have led me to hear quite a variety of things about each other's mothers.  Now let me tell you, some boys let it roll off their backs and concentrate on the game, no retaliation, no attention to it, nothing .... pretty frustrating for the one making the comments ..... and then there are those that turn into a special version of Mike Tyson during the game when the first comment about their mother is made.  Today in one of the older games, i increased my vocab by at least 20 words and watched some very heated exchanges.    I suppose this comes hot on the heels of all the movies filled with "your mamma" comments.  So there was jersey tugging, heated debates, wild language, almost fights, a red card ....... more entertaining then a Bruce Willis movie. 

Ballet anyone?



till next time
c'est la vie xxxxx

Thursday, 7 March 2013

why i do what i do


Today it has been a bit like the Gautrain station in my office.  I am not in office every day, trying to schedule all my out of office appointments on the same day, but when I do get here, one of the joys of working where I do, at a residential home for mentally disabled adult ladies as well as ladies and men who attend on a daily basis,  is that the residents and day workers greet me with something akin to a major celebrity arriving.  They are always so glad to see the staff and very often to them yesterday feels as long as a month ago. 

First a gaggle of ladies arrived in dribs and drabs in my office.  Each one wants a hug, each one wants me to tell them how much I missed them ... now when I arrive you will hear me shouting "hello all my aunties" as I pass them and I have varying terms of endearment from sweetheart to my love for each one of them.  One lady wanted to tell me about her sore finger, several wanted to remind me they love me.  A couple came to tell me that they are taking part in the Special Olympics athletics next week .... our ladies and day workers do shotput, 100m, relays and javelin ... pretty impressive hey?

The came the guys from the day workshop ..... and they just tug my heartstrings ... I told them that I had never had such a collection of gorgeous guys in my office .... and no matter their level of disability they just love it when I tell them that.  One asked me If I would come to his birthday party, another told me that he loves me so much and is glad I am here today, another said "jy lyk altyd mooi".  

An hour ago they had their line dancing therapy which they love and I can clearly hear the music from my outside office.  I stuck my head in there and they shrieked for me to join in.  Well I ditched my heels at the door and spent the next ten minutes line dancing with them .... their joy is infectious and never ceases to make me extraordinarily happy. 

I learn so much from them, although you would assume that they learn only from us.  They teach me that every day is a new day.  That you can love without prejudice or limits.  That it's the little things in life that count.  That you can find joy in the simplest things.  That sharing is truly caring.  That any new skill learnt is a joy to behold. 

To all my "aunties" and our adorable guys ...... you make working for a NPO a joy, you make every day that I speak to donors about the Homes a passion for me and you make every day at the office one in which I thank God for leading me here ...... where I belong. 



Till next time,
c'est la vie xxxx 

Wednesday, 6 March 2013

Just me

Ok well I am definitely sure what defines Karin.  This week I received 3 mails from readers in New Zealand, Canada and Germany .... All coincidently asking the same question .... We read your blog faithfully and know so much about your life (I initially wrote for Sarie magazine blog page and then for Women24 blog page, hence the title of my blog ... Which basically means That's Life and tells everyday tales that many readers relate and respond to) but we want to know more about you ... The person behind the blog.  So here are some pretty simple facts about me (my friends would have been able to draw up this list and Elm would have written exactly what is below) .......



I am a cappuccino-holic and probably drink 60% of the coffee in SA.  The school Headmaster says he has never seen anyone with such a capacity for coffee.

I am also a perfume and heels kinda girl ..... My colleagues can never understand how I walk 12 hours a day in the heels and I have a tin in which I save for my perfume fund and when I have enough off to Edgars I go.    Favourites?  Clinique Aromatics (unaffordable) ... Versace Vanitas and Swarovski Aura.  

I love my job with indescribable passion ... Even though I have been there several years it was some people's unwavering faith in me that made me embark on a new career path there last year ... Living proof that at my age you can take on a new field ... Exciting times.

I look for sincerity, honesty, trust, openness, laughter and joy in others and I have no time for arrogance, racism, dishonesty, disdain and broken promises in others.  If I am committed to you and you leave my life I am shattered.

I have a wicked sense of humour and find great joy in people with a sense of humour.  

I teach my children that there is always someone behind you in the food chain of life and we have a responsibility to help them ... Be it a beggar, someone struggling financially, someone who needs clothes or a meal ... Whatever

I have 2 kids ... Readers will know that and I will walk to the moon and back for them ...I also have other people's kids sleeping over all the time ... Great joy for me

I read a novel every week of my life even if it has 500 pages .... I subscribe to lots of 
magazines, my favourite chocolate is Daim, I love getting flowers, I am a useless drinker so 
am usually the driver, I enjoy TV,  good steak, creme brรปlรฉe, sprite zero, Exclusive Books and I hope now you know a little more.



Thanks for following my blog

Till next time ... With much love
c'est la vie.  Xxxxxx








Monday, 4 March 2013

my boy. other girls.

So yesterday Nic turned 14.  We literally celebrated for the full 24 hours ... he and I were watching a movie when midnight came around so I could wish him in the first minute, and when I went into his room just before midnight last night to check that he had plugged his phone in, he mumbled "thanks for a wonderful birthday mom", so we really used every second.  

Now we did all the singing early in the morning with us all jumping on his bed with presents and dogs .... the whole enchilada .... then dashed off to have brekki at Wimpy with 7 friends and family ..... all the usual stuff ..... mixed in with 3 hours of soccer @ CBC with his dad and 4 other friends .... heaven for Nic. 

Now all that was fine.  His BBM messages came in thick and fast for his birthday ... at one stage he had several dozen waiting to be read.  Great.  Then the 5 doz Facebook messages kicked in ..... and I perused the page as many of my friends and our family wrote on there.  Remarkably he had guys and girls from gr 8 to Matric writing messages as well as kids who wrote Matric up to 3 years ago.  Great. 

But amongst those was a vast number of messages from girls.  Girls who ended their messages with kisses xxxx, hearts in every format, "I miss you", "Love you lots" .... etc etc .  Humph!!!!

Now it seems only yesterday that messages from girls were simply "Happy Birthday".  And any mention of chicks usually got a shrug and disdainful look from aforementioned young man. 

So after reading them .... I could not resist the teasing ....... "Nic", I asked, "who is xxxxxxx who wrote that nice message on your page?" (the word "nice" was code for "the one with all the hearts and kisses").  "Oh", he says nonchalantly..."she goes to xxxxxxxxx" and he mentions a school quite a distance away in another town.  Naturally I now had to know how he knew her since she obviously knew him well.  "We met through inter-school sport", he says.  "Jeez well then why all the hearts and kisses", the mom in me kicks in. "Because we friends", he replies.  Such was the answer for all the myriad of other miss you's, like you's et al. 

Somehow I felt more relaxed when only our and Jess' card contained all the kisses.  He looked at me and laughed ... "what can I say, chicks like me", he says with twinkling eyes.

Pffft. I have no words. 

Hope it was a magical birthday boy 



Till next time
c'est la vie xxxxxx

Saturday, 2 March 2013

weird. just weird.

OK, so every now and then I come across a few ridiculous - add no value to your life - facts ....... 

A crocodile cannot stick its tongue out

A shrimp's heart is in its head 

A pregnant goldfish is called a twit (I called someone at work a twit last week)

Horses cannot vomit

Like fingerprints, everyone's tongue print is different (how often have you been asked to give a tongue print?)

Turtles can breathe through their butts 

No word in the English language rhymes with MONTH (ok I don't feel like sitting here and testing this one .... if you find a word put it in my comment box pls)

The longest word in the English language, recognized by Oxford, is
pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis  (try saying that after a few cocktails)

The letters KGB stand for Komitet Gosudarstvennoy Bezopasnosti

Some lions mate over 50 times a day (not sure whether that is enviable or not)

and on a personal note

My son still does not understand after 14 years that the washing goes IN the basket dude ..... if you don't recognize it, it is the thing you throw your washing NEXT TOO. 



till next time
c'est la vie xxx


Kitchen Conversations and the joy they bring

For many years I had a very special daily routine in my life.  The Housekeeper of my boss, who additionally is also regularly in my office b...