Sandton Exploration 2010!

Thursday was such an adventure day!

It started out looking very bleak, It was the third day of solid rain here and the third day of me having no walk at all, which meant that I was three ways to totally and utterly loony from lack of exercise. I was… yes, I’m afraid this does happen…grumpy!!!

So Rob, my esteemed housemate, suggested we go to Sandton mall for a walk. It’s nice and covered and large enough to get the kinks out of twitchy, twitchy legs. Needless to say I was in the car so fast we were half way there before the engine even started!

[So many BMW's! this was taken at the petrol station before the mall! Sheeple car of choice ne? ^_^]

Sandton is another world. One of which I must say makes me a tad nervous. The area is all full of funky looking statues and clean lawns and unnecessarily tiled buildings. I always get the feeling someone is going to stop me there and tell me to go home.
[The view from the parking section! Look at those buildings!!]

And what a mall!! Oh my word! It’s freaking huge!! I had no idea! And the shops! They sell all those ghastly, hideous, tummy churning stuff only rich people want to buy! "Why yes we must have the 100 year old, gold plated yak poop for the guest wing bathroom dah’ling!"

It’s also fully decorated for Christmas in the usual garish way that only a mall can pull off without being burned to the ground by right thinking citizens.
[I donno, somehow, if you don't think about it too much, it works!]

The highlight was definitely the Checkers there. Usually a somewhat dodgy store, this one was Fruit Mecca!!! Seriously and no jokes, by the end of it I was so utterly hyped that I was trying to keep tears back behind my eyes! So many goodies! If civilization is ever subjected to chaos or zombies or anything that in anyway requires rioting and looting, I’m so going back there!!
[OH!!!]

There were also two huge book shops – Oh my! And a giant music and video shop, and, and, and!! You really can find anything there! (That Yak poop will be mine dammit!)
[Jo making new friends!]

Still it was also awfully overwhelming! People, noises, smells, shoves, sticky dead things in the middle of the walk way, small elevators… < - - Jo’s hate elevators and only use them under duress, but I was transporting a watermelon and for that…
(Rob once ‘joked’ that I should have the classic 2.5 kids and train them up to walk with me to the fruit shop and carry watermelons. The 0.5 kid can carry one on his wagon…)

In the end, it was fun to visit but I don’t think I’d want to live there. It’s too much, and me in my jeans and hoody with excess paint splotches on it, well, we’re not too keen on socializing with the tie and heels crowd.

Still… wow.

Sister's with Blisters walk 27 November 2010

Saturday finally dawned, as days often do. But this was a Saturday that had been eagerly anticipated since well near the beginning of the month! (You know the sort, where it seems to take 3 months to get here!) It was time for - The sisters with blisters charity walk 2010! Hooray!! (Anything that requires walking, meeting friends and bright pink free goody bags will always get my two thumbs up!)

I was dead impatient to go, up! It seemed like Rob, my housemate, was taking for ages! When he finally said he was ready I burst out that door so fast it took the speed of light hours to catch up!

Finding the walk spot was pretty easy. We just followed the tons and tons of people dressed in garish pink and holding bright pink helium balloons. < - - some envy was felt at this point as I never did get one…

We managed, more purely by chance then anything else, to locate my sister and her husband. We stayed together as a close knit school of fishies because the whole place was one big sardine can tightly compressed with eager walkers of every kind imaginable! You could just relax your eyes and feast on the odd, weird, clever, painfully bright and oh my word, costumes that people had on! (I think I was the only one with long sleeves on though, score 1 for me!) [I forget was this a charity walk or gay pride parade? sometimes it was hard to tell. Doesn't he have a nice.... feather?]

We then joined up with more friends (many who’d done the earlier 8km walk – more envy) and prepped to go do our weenie but invigorating 4km walk.

[If you look far off into the distance you can see the white balloon of the starting line, there were that many people that this was the closest we could get!]

It was lovely having a walk about the Bryanston campus on the arm of a nun in fishnets and facial hair. (Isn’t that a dream we all share?)
[And so it was that Jovvi found religion]

[Spot the Jo]


[Some costumes were just 'huh' inducing. This fellow, covered in black shoe polish, walked around behind his lady friend carrying an umbrella over her head. The reason? who knows?]

There were even places for people to cool their dogs down along the way, and bottles of water especially for the canine friends. (Which of course make you wonder how it’s different from human water? Next time I’ll get one and you can taste it and tell me!)
[It was hot enough that pushing the pooch out the way and clambering into the bath didn't seem like such a bad idea!]

At the end of the walk we even got a little medal to feel like the brave champions we were! (The ribbon of course being a nice neon pink to go with the general décor. I don’t think my eyes can handle any more electric pink for a few months to come.
[But we're all winners in the end, teehee *waves like Miss South Africa*]

We had to huddle under an umbrella afterwards in a desperate need for shade, it was buggerdamn HOT! There was a prize giving, but none of us won anything which goes to show it was rigged!

Later I got to have my first swim in over a year. Followed by the blessing of my first sunburn in over a year. My shoulders are the kind of red you usually only see in over the top slasher movies! *Delicately touches shoulder and tries not to howl in pure, animalistic agony.*

And just to add the finishing touches to a dang nifty day, we had Rob’s second best friend (Well okay maybe best friend but I will fight for that title dammit!) come over and talk explosions and anime! *BLISS*

Does life get any better then that? (That’s a rhetorical question; obviously we could have added monkeys.)

Slightly bugged?

I love bugs. I find them utterly fascinating. Even the ones that freak me out and left me rocking in a corner whimpering, “Why would it do that? Why? Why?!”

I’ve been fascinated by the critters since I was a wee whipper-snapper, collecting them in jars and keeping them all about my room, much to the distress of the maid and the horror of my dad. (My brothers were in turn fascinated or revolted as the mood hit them.)

Below is a list of my top 5 favorite bugs, in random order (No favoritism here folks!). I’m leaving spiders out because they’ve already had their own blog and need to learn to let others have their time to shine!

1. Praying Mantis’s - They have a grace and beauty that just hides their gruesome nature. Most noticeably their tendency to catch prey, hold it firmly and begin chomping on them while they’re still alive. If the bug is lucky it starts with their head. (Mind if he's really lucky then the praying mantis is munching his pal while he makes a quick get away!)

2. Lady bugs – They’re so cute! In Afrikaans they’re known as Boom-skilpadjie – Tree turtles. I used to spend my time in the pool, moving slowly around the edges, saving half drowned ladybirds. Sometimes there were so many that most of my swim was basically ‘search and rescue’.

3. Grasshoppers – I will admit that the majority of grasshoppers I caught were then feed to the Praying mantises, which is mercenary but hey, a bug's gotta eat! They used to get me back by leaping when least expected and making me shriek like the little girl I was. To me they seem a very judgmental insect.

4. Butterflies – Yes because they are so pretty. If it makes you feel any better I used to feed the odd one to the Mantis as well. Oh now don’t look at me like that!

5. The Grotties – For me this is a subsection that contains all those bugs that do things that just put you right off your feed and which you still end up reading about cause it’s fascinating in a “Please tell me someone made this up kind of way…” But I’m nice, so I won’t tell you about Japanese hornets or Americanized bees that will sting you to death in swarms, or the Bot fly and how it’s maggots eat through your skin, or even the fun of bedbugs sucking blood from your face while you sleep, because I’m nice like that.

Ah but bugs are fun! (When not frightening, annoying or off putting). Live and let live I say! (Unless you’re feeding it to a Praying Mantis), and hey, you can always get revenge on bugs the old fashion way…

It's off to 'who knows where' I go!

So Saturday come around and it was time to move my furniture to my new dwelling! (A bit sooner then expected but I roll with the punches!)

I’d been packing willy-nilly for the past week, this basically entailed:

1. Pick up random item
2. Wonder if it’s mine or someone else’s. If someone else’s, put back and go back to step 1.
3. If mine, did I really, really need it?
4. Ignore step 3 and decide do I want it?
5. Doff it in the box anyway.

I’m never enthusiastic about moving. I’ve done it entirely too much in my life and always with the knowledge that sooner or later, I’ll move yet again. (What can I say, I have nesting instincts dammit! And they get royally buggered around when forced to relocate!)

*sits and feels hard done by for a few satisfying minutes – then gets on with it*

We went to my soon-to-be housemate’s dad’s work, where I got to meet a fantastic 80 year old gentleman who was, of all things, also a Vegan! Yay! He was a lively individual whom I’m told often clambers about the factory roofs and does a lot of physical hard labour. Again he is 80 years old!! Viva Vegans!!

This most kindly individual lent us a nice, ginormous truck to transport my goods in. And Oh my gosh, I had to all but take a flying leap to get into the, what would you call it, Cockpit? Cab? Shuttle Control Centre? of the truck, it was so high! It felt jolly strange!

[Your carriage madam.]

But oh! Oh Oh Oh!! Was it fun!! I had such a ball riding in that truck! I must have taken a zillion and one photos of everything! (Which later turned out to look like just regular shots taken from a car. You had to be there…)

[I took photos of everything! Hey, it was interesting!!]

It’s, well not like flying really, but like... I donno, can’t explain it. You’re in this huge cab, with giant windows that let you see more then a car ever could! And every vehicle that passes you looks like a dinky toy you almost expect to feel apologetic as it passes you by. And when you see other truck drivers you feel yourself puff up with fraternal love as though, “Hey brother! It’s us against them and aren’t we the lucky ones?!”

[Sooooooooooo fun!!]

The moving was pretty quick and efficient. I madly packed the last of my stuff and the two guys who came with heaved and ho’ed and got everything packed so fast I basked in the sonic backlash. We got the bed in, the fridge in, my clothes in, and my niece out! (She was sneaking onboard with a, “Take me with you!!” plea!)

[Aaw, how can I say no to that face? It was surprisingly easy! Hehe :P]

Another ride, this time to the my new place *Beams with the joy of remembering it*, and we started to unpack the truck. Well sort of “we”. As the one guy was putting out a table to be carried, I leapt forward with hopefully optimistic arms to take it. He gave me the once over, reached in for a small packet of paints and said, “Here, you take this”.

(I was a little miffed at that because lately I’ve been building some actual, genuine muscle and feeling rather buff! Later I tried picking the table up to prove the error of his ways and found I couldn’t do more then budge it! I still think he was at fault though, just cause).

Now I’m moved into my room! It’s rather small, so I think of it as sort of a monk’s cell, but with more fat, fluffy stuffed toys then is the current rage at religious institutions. I’m slowly but surely packing things away as the mood hits. Isn’t it funny how you forget you own things till you open a box and, “Oh my gosh Vern! It’s that lamp Aunty Ida gave us!!”

Well I am settling in. and I sort of hope I don’t have to move again too, too soon. But I guess life is an adventure and you can never ever take anything for granted ‘cause you never know what other rabbit it’s going to pull out of the hat at the last moment!

“Vern! Where’d this rabbit come from?”

Slug it to ya!

It all started on a day much like any other day. A normal day, back when I lived in Durban. A sunny shiny day that seemed so good and pure.
Good and pure until IT happened!!

I’d done my walk and had decided to do the dishes that had been building up in the sink, as dishes are often want to do. I filled the sink up with some pleasingly hot, soapy water and started washing the lot. Cups, plates, bowls, so far so good.

It didn’t take me very long to do them all and I was rather feeling a glow of satisfaction that always comes when you’ve finally done a chore you’re not too keen on.

So I reached into the bubbly, murky water for the plug to pull it out and send the soap off to water fate awaited down the black plumbing.

That’s when I felt it.

Oh god.

I can’t say what made my hand close around it. Maybe a naïve hope that it wasn’t what I was beginning to suspect it was? That last bit of hope that said, please let this be just a really big noodle, even as I knew there had been no noodly dishes served in the last 48 hours.

I brought my hand up slowly.

Please be a noodle! Please be a noodle!

It wasn’t a noodle.

It was fat and grey and looked like a delicious cooked mushroom. Why couldn’t it have been a delicious cooked mushroom?

It was, and even typing this makes me feel queasy….

It was a giant slug.

A giant, half boiled, dripping ooze, grey as a mushroom but not near as appealing, slug!

Now anyone who’s been to Durban knows that the bugs there are all mutants. Here in Joburg we have praying mantises and cockroaches. There they have PRAYING MANTIS’S AND COCKROACHES!! Huge beasts you could all but yoke up to a wagon! So this slug was no puppy. (The size of one yes, but the urge to stroke it didn’t come upon me curiously!).

I just stood there with this thing in my sweet, unprotected, precious hand! (All these descriptive words just suddenly bubbled out of my consciousness as I stood there.)

On the outside I appeared very cool, calm and collected.
On the inside it was more along the lines of, “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE…..”
I walked to the door with it still slobbering in my hand,
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE…..”
Opened the door, went to the flower bed,
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE….”
Then hurled the gelatinous body as hard as I could into the pansies!!!
Then turned and gracefully went inside, closed the door and then, from my mouth, “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!!! AAAAAAAAHHHHH WAAAAAAAAH!!!! NOOOOOOOOO!!!!”
And various other sounds of a creature in mental distress!

I was just so GROSS!!!! And I like bugs, I find them fascinating. Just a slug? Drowned in my dishes!! That was just an uncool little trick to play on me!

And then my eyes roved to the dishes. Oh the dishes!!! I’d just cleaned them! They looked all sparkly and new and wholesome. But what a terrible secret they now possessed! Slug slimed, each and every one of them! I’d have to wash them all, all over again!

I got shakily to my feet (Hadn’t noticed Id slid to the floor) and made my uneasy way back to the dishes. First thing I did was nuke the sink with water hotter then the lavas of hell.
Then, checking it in a manor more thorough then Sherlock Holmes could ever manage, I skittishly put the plug in and proceeded to painfully wash each dish over again.

But I was scarred. That Slug had looked like a cooked mushroom. That same grey colour, gosh that same consistency! I loved cooked mushrooms.
It took me over a year before I could eat another one again without expecting it to wiggle between my teeth!

I still get the heebie-jeebies around slugs to this day. I always feel like they’re plotting something. Why don’t they have shells like nice, slow moving, never-found-in-your-sink, snails? Did they sell them t support a drug habit or something? Sly horrors.

But isn’t it funny how an incident so small and unassuming can haunt you years to come? The human creature is a strange one indeed! (Still I like them better then slugs because I’ve never found one floating in my wash goods!)

Adventure Walking! Sort of...

So today I burst out of bed with sheer joyous wonder! This was not because I had won the lotto, sob sob, or felt the need to glorify in a bowel movement, but because today I was going to do a new walk route! (What? It's fun dammit!)

I love trying out new walks and seeing where they take me, what's to be seen and marveled at, and how badly my feet get bloodied and mangled!

I set off at 7am, with a satchel containing some water, a note book (for toon ideas) and a borrowed rain jacket because the sky looked a bit ominous. (It wont rain if you're carrying a brolly or raincoat, but if you forget one? It goes Monsoon on your ass!)

One thing about a new walk is you have to pay attention. something I always seem short changed in! (I was rather shocked to see a huge pylon on my walk! I'd been past that area a few times and this was the first time I had noticed this giant, not easily missed by anyone else, wire structure!) Pay attention Jo!
[What? It's hardly noticeable!]

I'd figured the walk would take about 4 or 5 hours but discovered that I was rather a speedy devil. A walk that took an hour with other people (and a small sausage dog with an inexhaustible bladder) took less then 30 minutes!

[I think I would have gotten on famously with whomever named this street!]

I got to go past an area that appears to be natures attempt to recapture a little bit of land for herself. My amigo calls it, 'The Swamp', but I rather like it. It has tons of birds and it's own unique watery charm. I must admit if it hadn't looked like a flowing ad for 'Bilharzia R us' I would have liked to slap on some slip slops and go crashing into the water, on the hunt for crabs and other small squiggly things! Large bodies of water always awaken that aquatic acquisitive urge.
[I bet if one of those power-lines was to snap and fall into the water, the ducks would certainly find it shocking!]

I did a little shopping at one of the centers, (to satisfy that acquisitive urge) and started heading back homewards. Which of course was when the heavens opened and the rain came pelting down. I managed to yank my borrowed jacket out the bag (Naturally it was right at the bottom), and get it over my most important bits.

Luckily the rain didn't last long. Just long enough to leave me with very soggy pants, that, when the sun came back out again, left a warm, moist feeling on my legs similar to that a small kid leaves when it makes an 'oopsy' on your lap. But the sun was warm, as it often is, and my bits and bobs dried out fast enough.
[The titanic struggle of darkness vs light! Just let me get to shelter before this gets ugly!]

I was rather sad that it seemed I'd only get a 2.5 hour walk instead of the usual 5 hours. Now don't get me wrong, when I eventually get a job and I'm putting on my nifty suit, or only slightly grease stained MacDonald's uniform, I will give up walking with a small sigh and get on with it. But until that happens I am a Prima Donna and expect long hours with much enjoyable suffering brought on by fatigue and sunstroke!

Then I got lost.

Ironically I figured that back tracking would be the easiest way to remember where I went. I was here, I'm here again, simple right? But everything looks surprisingly different when you are seeing it from a southern rather then northern approach. You start to think, now did I really see this gate before or do I just think I have?

The first time I got lost was due to recognizing a street name but forgetting that I was supposed to go over that street not down it. It was a lovely street though and I got pretty far before my daydreaming self informed the rest of me that we weren't anywhere recognizable and that should this course continue, it would be recommending a large scale dose of panic! I got back to the main road and carried on down it, feeling rather proud of my tracking abilities. Only to get lost again.

This time to be fair, the street had an identical name to the one I was looking for, only slightly shortened. (Its a pretty good excuse hey?), Since I am typing this you can be assured that I didn't get completely lost and die of starvation at the side of the road. It's actually rather fun being lost though in a way, don't you think? (this being easier to say at home and safe then out there and hopeless). But I wasn't worried, if I got too lost I knew I'd keep my head, calmly pull out my phone, dial my chum up and say that, "WAAAAAAAAAH! I'M LOST! I'M LOST! I'M GOING TO END UP DEAD, HEEEEEEEEEEELP MEEEEEEEEE!!!!"

So in the end I made it home alright feeling pleasantly warm and tired. I had a snack, played on the computer some and now? Honestly? I could do it all over again! Want to join me

Once again I was invited to a do where you could dress up! Now any one who knows me knows that already this ensnared my interest like an ant in tar! But my ears really perked up when I discovered it was a Halloween party. HOORAY! One of the few times that no matter how ugly, sleazy, trashy or weird your costume is, chances are you will get approval for it!

Mind you, you then have to decide what you want to go as. I decided then and there I’d not go as a vampire. Those guys have been getting entirely too much press lately! A zombie held my interest for a mo, but I wasn’t sure what to use for fake blood, and getting my hands on real blood could have meant cops showing up half way through the party with a bloody axe and the need to ask me a few questions.

Mind you women are generally expected to dress up as something sexy on Halloween. Guys get to go all gory and freakish as Frankenstein, bloody corpses, zombies, or ANC members but women are all sexy devils, black kitties in skintight cat suits or playboy bunny rabbits.
(Leporiphobia, a specific phobia, is an abnormal, debilitating, and often paralyzing fear of evil mutant bunny rabbits – now you know, go impress your friends.)

I couldn’t decide between going as a Goth girl (I’m getting divorced, Emo comes naturally) or if I should go as a punk and be a matching set to my friend. (Who’s blue Mohawk caused quiet a stir!).

In the end I decided to blend both and damn the consequences.
It actually worked out pretty well!

Now the party was for the wife of a friend’s friend whom I didn’t know. This was very pleasing. I just love meeting new people! I love to fix a picture of what I think they’ll look like in my mind, the people, the place, even the food, and then rock up and have a joyful few minutes comparing the reality to my imagination.

This time round reality was much, much nicer then what I’d imagined! The folk were friendly, the costumes they wore fun and inventive and there was actually food I could eat! (Though sadly there wasn’t any watermelon, a large gaping flaw it took me a while to get over).

I also met two other vegans! Egad hooray, I’m not alone in my weird eating habits! (They’re not as strict as me but then, who is?) A vampire that enjoys a good strawberry, a sassy 16 year old and a great grand mother with a lot of fire and spunk and many other interesting characters!

The highlight of the evening though came when someone foolishly opened up a tube of glow sticks.
Now there are few things as satisfying as hearing that nice crunching sound as you crack up a glow stick and watch the neon colours emerge! And of course you can’t just do one! You have to do a blue one and a red one and a green one and then another blue one cause the first one came out so well and then…

We ended up cutting some open and I had a small gaggle of kids using my tattoos to track over with various glowy chemicals. (Later we read on the box that you’re not actually supposed to cut them open, them being dangerous and all that, but really, how were we supposed to know?)

Sadly because we lived on the other side of forever, we couldn’t stay as long as we’d have liked. Completely daft me forgot to ask for people’s contacts so now I have to go asking, “No man who was that nice person! You know the one in black! They were all in black? No but they were the awesome ones!!”

All in all though it was a lot of fun and if anyone wants a repeat performance, well I guess I will go, just to please you guys of course….
p.s. stock watermelon…

The Great, Hamster, Escape

Everyone who has ever owned a hamster knows that, while they might not be the most intellectually gifted of all pets, they do have an uncommon savvy when it comes to being able to escape from their holding cells. Whether it’s through a loose bar, small gap, easy to climb box or seizing the moment when you try to seize them, if there’s a way to escape a hamster will find it!


Case in point was my hamster this week. I was cleaning out his home and ended up moving his wheel too close to the edge of the tank wall. Now for a sleepy fat little grey thing I must say he has some moves on him. Because it didn’t take longer then ten minutes for him to climb the wheel, fall off the side of his tank, then plummet down the crate (Hamsters seem to take falling down things in their stride) and to disappear off into the nooks and crannies of the cottage!

Now there are boxes and tiles and blankets and lord knows what else scattered all about the cottage, thus ensuring that my AWOL pet had plenty of places to hide in. Even picking a place to start looking is a Russian roulette of guess work and inevitable disappointment. The evil little rodent had me out foxed!

And I had to worry about him. As a small, friendly, fat little dwarf hamster, his main purpose in life, when not doubling as a pet, is to pretty much to get eaten by some larger, craftier animal. Should the hamster have gotten outside he would have met with a whole medley of wild cats, opportunistic dogs, rats, hawks, snakes and many other new, short term friends. Not only that but I also have a cat who, while not the worlds best hunter, would probably still make a meal of him given half the chance.

The little marauder stayed missing for 1.5 days. Any noise or scuffling in the cottage was immediately investigated and I can now say that I didn’t realize how much noise a gold fish can actually make when it’s playing with the stones in its aquarium!

The break through came the next morning when I was getting ready to get up and face the world. (I was about 90% awake; it was just my brain that wanted another 5 minutes.)
But I noticed the cat on the edge of the bed, staring intently at the crack between the bed and the wall and moving along at a pace that suggested something interesting was moving down below.

My first thought was, “Yay, maybe it’s the hamster!” My second thought was, “please let it be the hamster!” considering what else might be crawling along there! (My cat is a fan of hunting spiders and a large spider down the side of the bed is not seen as any sort of blessing by me!)
Crawling to the edge of the bed and craning my neck at an odd unnatural angle I managed to see down the crack.
And there he was, charging this way and that, showing a hamster’s classic lack ability to get lost in a small space and yet be too proud to ask directions!

I was quiet thrilled, not just that I’d found the hamster, but also because this meant he would be easy to catch. I’ve found from past experiences that locating the run away hamster is only half the battle. Trying to capture and contain them can prove mighty difficult! They run under things, maneuver out your grasp, some bite or go hysterical on you… it really builds character and patience! One of the must have traumas of any kids life should be the attempt to catch a hamster without hurting it!

But this time it was a piece of cake. With one arm snaking down behind the critter, and another in front of him, he made a dash for it but got scooped up like a warm fluffy ball of hamster ice cream! (At this point may I say how glad I am that he is a dwarf hamster and not a large golden hamster – the difference being that the one doesn’t bite and the other tries to surgically remove your fingers!)

I took the very surprised looking fur ball and quickly returned him to his cage. Less then 3 minutes later the sounds of scuffling and cracking sunflower seeds could be heard once more. (I suspect hamster’s memories not to be of the rock iron sort.)

But I’m glad he’s back home. If I’d lost him through my own negligence I would have felt very awful. I made a point of giving him an extra cornflake so that he would have a bit more motivation to hang around next time. (Though I know deep down in his hammie heart he’ll still make a break for it given half the chance)

I also gave the cat a small thank you present.
I think she would have preferred the hamster.

^_^

Radio for backup!

So on Thursday last week, I bit the bullet! (I can’t imagine that would taste so nice in real life, but it’s quiet invigorating in metaphor). I steeled my nerves, reached into the dark cranky nook of a dark cranny nook and removed, in my trembling hand, an ancient cassette playing radio! Indiana Jones never felt more heady a sense of triumph!

See, I’ve decided that since I’m a divorced woman of the world (it’s been over a month, it counts!); I should at the very least have some connection to it, however vicariously! I remember someone asked me if I had tickets to Joburg day and I had to ask what Joburg day was? Apparently it’s one of those things everyone but myself seems to know right off the bat. And what if a giant fruit festival was coming to town and I missed it?
It could happen!

But now I’ve managed to even the score a little! That was my thought as I washed what seemed like a century of dust off the radio. I noticed the plug was a bit rusty but I was assured by Ursh that it would still work fine. I was a bit dubious at first but decided that she’s the one who’ll have to remove my crisped body if the current backfires on me, and then she’ll be sorry, so there!



The plug went in okay and no one died. < - - very grateful for this.

Now came the fun bit. Jovvi hunting around the radio trying to find the ‘on’ switch! I mean there has to be one right? How else do you get the noise to come out? *shakes radio hopefully*
But I just couldn’t find it!
Eventually I realized the little tab saying ‘Tape _____Radio’ should probably be on Radio! I moved it with hopeful expectation and TADA, it worked!! (I’m not sure if I was more grateful for that or for the fact that no one got to see my red face, how obvious!)

But now the radio was blaring out the fuzzy sounds of what seemed to be a very angry black man, talking Xhosa or Zulu or Martian and getting mighty worked up over something. Appealing as that was I decided to change the station. I moved the knobby backwards and forwards but all it did was GRRRRR and SSSSSH and go back to the dark dude in danger of having a stroke.
I checked the switch; yes it’s on FM, so where’s all the other stations?
Once again inspiration tapped me lightly on the shoulder and whispered that my hunt might go easier if I moved the actual dial switch and not the volume switch…

Oh good grief!

I’m happy to say that when I started doing things the right way, my oh my, it actually worked! Isn’t it funny how that goes?

Now of course I just have to use it. Silly as it seems it sort of feels like cheating. There’s a sort of interestingly happy feeling in not knowing what Lady Gaga sounds like, or what’s going on in the world (The news is never puppies and rainbows).

Still Hudson, put your backbone front and forward! (Alright that doesn’t make sense but it sounds good…).
*Turns radio on*
And so it begins!

Foot Where?

Let’s talk about socks baby!!

Anyone who knows me, knows I have a sweet and girlish, (My description and I’m sticking with it), love for socks. Some call it a ‘Sock Fetish’ but you’d not believe the sort of things people start thinking when they hear that! Like I wine and dine them, or go to a seedy motel with a bag full of footwear! Sorry for the pervs out there but my love, though deep and abiding, is strictly platonic!
Sickos.



I will also admit that it has been so many years since I have worn matching socks on purpose, that I actually can’t remember when last I did! I do remember the first time I tried mismatched socks. It was just for a laugh, one black, one white. But my eyes were so enchanted by the colour movement when I walked, and my feet so purring and happy that from that day I never looked back! (A big plus side is that you never have to worry about socks going missing in the wash, as long as they don’t match, why worry? ^_^)



If I borrow any of Ursh’s socks I will wear matching ones but only because all of hers are pretty much black and that defeats the purpose. (Sometimes I wear a small black on one foot and a large one on the other to appease the rebel within me…)

My fascination for socks started with the fact that I have fussy feet with two big quirks:-

Firstly and basically, my feet pretty much hate each other.
Don’t scoff it’s entirely true! When my feet touch each other sockless, all naked and vulnerable, they are so repulsed that they leap apart instantly, which tends to wake me up if it happens at two in the morning! For me the worst feeling I can have on my foot is the feeling of the other foot! (Okay not the worst, worst ever - poop, dead rat guts, putrid meat, those would be a bit more revolting, but I’m trying for effect!)
By putting socks on I effectively cut off that sensation and restore a sense of Pedi -peace and love!

Secondly, my feet are individuals. They may be mirror images to the average person but to themselves they are happy, unique, individuals and the idea of dressing in twin outfits? Oh my! What an outrage!!!



My left foot is the buff one. It’s adventurous and quiet frankly, murder on my socks. It always gets the sock that’s in the worst condition because chances are it made it that way in the first place! It is the one most likely to make a bee-line for your crotch if you sneak up on me when I’m out walking. It likes bright colours and black.

My right foot is more lady-like. It likes pastels and white socks. It never tests bath or swimming pool water and is the more ticklish of the two.

See? Individuals!

And aren’t socks themselves interesting? Ankle socks! Toe socks! Knee socks! Invisible socks! (Luckily they aren’t really invisible otherwise they’d be awfully hard to find in the wash…).



I have a pair of socks from Amsterdam, London and Germany (The German ones are mismatched!!).

I have a pair of socks my sister gave me two years ago that I’ve never worn but that I like to cuddle and squeeze because they are so, so soft! I call them “Pet socks” and Ursh just shows me “The look” once more.

I have a sock puppet, Le Sock, made out of one of my socks with mismatched button eyes. I’ve made a few videos of him but the sound quality is generally bad. Sob sob.

I have… to probably best shut up now.

So if you ever want to buy me some socks, as a birthday gift, Christmas gift or just out of random generosity, I will gladly accept them and heartily thank you once I stop rolling on the floor in happiness! They will be well loved!!
(The only downside being that I will remember you gave me them and the look of eternal hope on my face each time I see you might start to make you feel uncomfortable…)

Have a great day and hey, nice footwear you got there!
^_^

KER BOOM!!!

On Wednesday we got a most intriguing phone call from our partners in Pandemonium. We were invited to see something we’d never get to see again.

Only we weren’t told what! Isn’t that awfully infuriating yet delectably interesting? We spent the rest of the week wondering and happy didn’t guess it or come even close! (For which I was most glad as some of our ideas where starting to get a bit out there… No I’m not telling you!)

So Saturday dawned and off the lot of us went. (5 in total, our pairing, their paring, and one Dad added for seasoning!).

We finally got to the place we were going which didn’t give away a single sign as to what was going on! We entered a gate and drove. And drove and drove and drove, down long windy, narrow roads, looking out for buck but seeing only burnt ground and listening to stories of what happens around the area, which helped us guess what was going on about 10 minutes before we’d have found out anyway. (It still counts damn it!)

[[Our main view on the way to parking. Don't these things fry your brain or something? Well it didn't effect me cause I am....*drool*]]

So what were we up to? We were going to watch Explosions!!!

See they make bombs and explosive goodies around there, and any that are old and fastly approaching their expiry dates are taken out back and blown up! (Aren’t you glad we don’t do the same with people? Mind funeral expenses would be cut in half….)

[[It's really a humongous crater! Tells you of some fun times with Explosions Past!]]

We stood in a crowd of mostly male specimens and got told what bomb was going off where and when to cover our ears.

[[Bits of leftover bomb bits by Ursh's feet. A bit nerve twitching as you can't help but wonder how they managed to get where we are standing and if, today, there would be a repeat performance?]]

We got to see how fast the buggers burn, how hot and how LOUDLY they go off! We even got to see a tree get blown up!
And appreciate my photos hey! The explosions were not only fast but I had to makeshift-cover my ears as well as try timing when to photo! (I put tissue paper in my ears, surprisingly effective!)

[[Perdy! And HOT!]]

[[The fact I got the smoke at all is an achievement, praise me! The explosives that ran along the fence went so fast you barely saw anything and suddenly smoke! Spooky]]

[[And some of the bombs were even set to go off in a musical pattern! Bom-a-bombom-BOM! It was better then half the stuff on the radio at the moment!]]

[[No one under 18 allowed in? Sort of makes it sound like if you're over 18 come on in and get vapourized, and if you're an employee, well that's just a bonus!]]

The explosions themselves don’t look nearly as flashy as ones on TV, but then again you don’t get to feel the shockwaves slam into your chest from the movie ones either! Or the wash of heat as flames fly up into the sky and you are bathed in a bunch of super heated, toasty molecules!

IT was all over too quickly! Sadly they won’t be blasting in that area any more, but I’m hoping they’re still going to do it somewhere open to the public! Want to come with next time? Bring ear plugs!!

Below is a video of the BLASTING! The squeaky, over-enthusiastic person in the background would be me! ^_^

Bunny Parking

So what do two girls, low on funds but not up to a bout of Cabin Fever, do on Sunday?
Why go to the Bunny Park of course!
(Why does not one ever guess that? ) :P

The Bunny Park is a grand place to go to stretch your legs, chase small furry things, smell smells you wouldn’t think possible and pay not a cent to get in! It’s not extremely huge but enough to get the wiggles out your legs and trick you into thinking you actually did some exercise!

Here is my photo blog of the Bunny Park in Winter!!


Actually they're just running away from us, but this way it's not such a slap in the face! ^_^



What can I say my main Bun, they're killer! And no, I still don't have any goodies to give you!



The bridges at the bunny park are pretty wobbly and some have collapsed. Take a look at the water you can see, who wants to fall into that? (You'd probably float, like the dead sea, there's enough...chunks... in there to keep you up!)



Ducks, swans, geese, plovers and seagulls, the bunny park has them all... pooping in the water! And you wonder why it ends up all icky looking!



I always want a peacock feather when I see them. No idea why. Maybe just the urge to rugby tackle them?



Butting into our business. The goats and sheep also approve heartily of some fine tasty carrot!



I want to live in the magical castle of fruit, veg and small squeaking things! (Course it means living in a small, dark, dank cage like a wild animal...tough choice!)



Look at the pigs, the water, the mud! Hard to wrap your mind around that being your next bacon breakfast!



I can't really say anything more...



You give sticky kids with wet pants rides all day and see how you feel!



Cause one day I will hunt you down!! :P