Last For The Year

This is going to be my last post for the year, I will have to survive without the good old internett untill early in the new jear.

but as concillation I will be spending soem time with my family and quite a bit of time playing the fool in warmbaths.

I promiss to post pictures of the merryment.

I am going to miss all of you so much as you have become such an important part of my life. please be safe and take care of yoursleves.

Have a great Christmas and an excelent new year

ALL MY LOVE

A very merry Christmas to you all

Whats Weird

I have been tagged by Val and I am now charged with sharing my quircks with the world (I call them quircks Stiffla calls them "definate sighnes of a dead hamster and an abandon wheel"). So here it goes 6 weird things about me:

1) I giggle like a little girl: I never grew out of it and when I really open my mouth and laugh you can hear my from miles away. Stiffla and Grem say I sound like a pin ball machine.

2)I cant stand not having an opinion about stuff: You know you get those things that just dont have enough impact on your life to bother having an opinion about... wel I dont have things like that....I need to have an opinion about everything or els it will bother me untill I formulate an opinion.

3)I love salt and lemon juice, I always seem to be drowning my food in one or the other, last night infact, I so craved sour stuff that I mixed lemon and salt and ended up eating it as is!

4) I am an enless source of useless information..... you think you be traveling in the car listening to a song or watching the scenery and suddenly the serenity will be broken by "hey guys did you know" at which point everybody rolls their eyes at me.

5) I've said this before but I think it needs a space in the quirck section. I sing Chritmas carols, and I sing them all year long, while I cook in the shower while I work and I dont care who hears me.

6)I am killer afaid of needels. and when I say this I mean I go all psyco about it. I know in the small bit of my brain that is responsible for logical thought that getting a shot is not painfull, but the thought of being used as a glorified pin cushion freacks me out.

So thats it then. six of the things that make me weirder than you. but it all doesnt end here. I tag Sammy. Sammy write down six thinks thats wierd about you and then pass it on sothat we will have a perpetual chain of wierdos blogging the globe

Discover

This weekend whilst looking for a gift for Stiffla I wandered into a dark little shop that smelt of Sandal wood.

It was a warm little place with warm lighting and pretty things and books lining the wall.

At a low table on a cushion sat a blond woman, she was barefoot and smiled when I entered.

as I browsed the shelved I noticed that the woman didn't breath down my neck as other shop keepers do in this crime torn country of ours. She didnt hound me with sales pitches and was happy to let me wander as long as I pleased.

This little shop sold candles, insence, crystals, pendants and herbs, cards and all sorts of little trinkets that most of society would frown upon.

I started talking to the woman who cals herself dragonfly and after she had explained a few things to me and done my tarrot card reading I made my purchase.

This weekend whilst looking a gift for Stiffla I baught my first tarrot card deck.

The deck is a deck desighned to empower woman and teach them that they are powerfull and important. I think that it is perhaps this view of a womans place in society that drew me to wiccan culture many years ago. They ,unlike the church, dont just talk about gender equality they actully practice it.

I dont claim to be a wiccan (I believe that one must first learn to be at piece with the world and yourslef), and I dont renounce the Lord either, even though my views of my faith differ greatly from that of garden variety Christians, but I do have a few theories, that I intend to elaborate on in the coming weeks.

I also intend to enlighten people on the subject that is very misunderstood.

So here I embark on another journey of discovery enlightenment and perhaps self healing.

What goes around

This is Friday and it is my given write to blog Bullshit all day. I found this story and though everybody may enjoy this.

His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to eke out a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog. There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slowand terrifying death. The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings. An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved."I want to repay you," said the nobleman. "You saved my son's life.""No, I can't accept payment for what I did," the Scottish farmer replied, waving off the offer. At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel."Is that your son?" the nobleman asked. "Yes," the farmer replied proudly."I'll make you a deal. Let me take him and give him a good education.If the lad is anything like his father, he'll grow to a man you can be proud of."And that he did. In time, Farmer Fleming's son graduated from St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin.Years afterward, the nobleman's son was stricken with pneumonia. What saved him? Penicillin.The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill.His son's name? Sir Winston Churchill..

In good times

Thursdays are notoriusly borng days, the only alure they hold is the simple fact thats its the day before friday, so after leaving work yesterday I had little hope for the evening that lay ahead, that was until DW and I took a trip to pleasant little shop that is bursting to the brim with affordable alcahol.

DW needed a beer and by now everybody knows it, so we grabbed a 6pack and just as we were retreating my beady little eyes fell upon an item that caused my wallet to do the highland flip.

At the end of the day we left heavily laden with 6 pack Castel and a 2000 vintage portues red wine.

I knew that DW would not partake in the wine and I knew only one other person who had the culture to enjoy this with me. We enlisted the Gremlin and soon we were in a state of serius merriment. Good Itallion pasta great Portuegeus wine and always faithfull South-african beer.

We lite a fire for no reason what so ever and since dinner had come and gone we ended up putting chees and tomatoe sandwitches on the fire just for good measure.

These are my friends.

We understand one another and yet still like one another.

These are my firends and I love them.

When I finally retired to bed I reflected on how blessed I am. My life is filled only with the good people that I want in my life I have friends in so many walks of life and I have finally been able to rid myself of the bad apples of humanity that seem to cling to me like shit to a woolen blanket.

I dont believe that I would be able to exsist in solitude People need people and I am glad I have all of you

Big love to Stiflla and Grem

Wrap me up for Christmas

I used to love the night befor Christmas, Mom would be drowning finger biscuts in sherry for the triffel, dad would be tanning some meat on a good black wattel fire, and my blister and I would be singing carols and pestering either one or both of our paerents.

Now I know this sounds like another in a row of nonsensical blogs, but in truth this is a subject close to my heart.

I love Christmas, I go all starry eyed and fuzzy, its the only time in the year when I feel there may be a glimmer of hope for mankind.

And while fate has placed some bitter memories uder my tree I remain a loyal crusader for the spirit of Christmas.

I know that growing up tends to take away some of the magic but there are just some traditions and principals that that I will always be true to.

1) Always decorate a tree. In our household the decorations on our Christmas tree are as old as my sister and I. some may have lost the sparkle and glitter but they are tinny little footprints in my families Christmas story.

2) I Put thought into the gifts I give. Christmas has become verry comercial and you should try to champion that by making the gifts you give a reflection of your feelings for the person your giving it to. one of the greatest aspects of a gift is the fact that someone remembered you

3) I always wrap gifts in papper. dragging a present from a bag or a box will never be as fun as it is to unwrap your gifts. we are all children at heart.

4) I always take the time to write in the cards. Each gift has a card and each card has a message. and each card goes with love.

5) Sing carols. why not. The grem and DW will tell you that I sing Christmas carols all year round when I cook.

6) Where a silly hat

7) Say "Merry Christams"

8) Eat, drink and be merry

9) Spend Christmas with those you love. I have never missed a Christmas with my family. I spent every Christmas of my life with my dad and now that hes gone I spare a thought for every Christams we had together. Forget the trials of the year gone by and make amends.

The painted people

I havent posted anything for a while, my absence has not been because I have nothing to say its because I have too much.
My blog is my little bitching outlet, where I reserve the right to rant and rave about politics and society to my hearts content, but lately I have found that my blog has become a bit heavy.
for this reason I have decided that today I will write about something that doesnt matter.
TATTOO's
Do you have any?
Did it hurt?
Do you want one?
Or are you of the believe that its a discusting missuse of your body.
I want one, but I'm chicken shit!
Not so much of the pain involved in getting it done but of how permanent it is. I dont want to wake up one day and realise I dont like having "die dissel boom van potchefstroom" scribbled down my arm. Even worse... I dont want to wake up in 30 years and my "disselboom" tattoo has disintergrated to say juts "oom".
If I had the courage I so despiratly lack the above would be what I would go for.
I'd give myslef wings in a world where society grounds me so.
I have also heard of a new proceedure that assures the tattoo lasts only 5 years.
Perhars I'd do that?
Either way...Let me know what you guys think!