Breaking all the rules

It's been a rollercoaster of a month here in our not so sunny corner of Durbs. Up the hill is def a good few degrees colder than Morningside, and even worse, the peculiar reverse thermo-dynamics of our bunker mean that the house is a good 5 degrees cooler than outside, with our bedroom doing a very good impression of a fridge freezer. Luckily the Tarts gave me an electric blanket for my birthday last year and I have perfected the art of leaving the blanket on full blast for just the right amount of time i.e. one notch down from spontaneous combustion.

There's also been the usual sort of nonsense in the South African news - the type that wants to make you emigrate on the 1st plane out. First we had the whole 'Spear' debacle, which I must admit made me chuckle until I realised how seriously everyone else was taking it. Talk about generating the type of publicity you want to avoid! As usual, the strong arm of the law won and democracy, freedom of speech and a free press were the ultimate victims!

Another high profile politician charged with corruption made it into hospital rather than prison. More politicians face corruption charges in the Manase Report. Carte Blanche literally runs the same story every week, just changing the names and locations. It's no wonder I tune into Sky News. South African news is just too damn depressing.

Next came the Durban taxi bosses dictating the laws of the land to the Durban police force. Again it would be hilarious if it wasn't true. At least it hasn't lasted with someone sensible being put in charge - temporarily at least. And for a short time we will all be treated to traffic law enforcement taxi style. On my way home from a Tarty dinner last Thursday I saw this new traffic policy in action. Umgeni Road had been turned into one big road block with every driver being breathalysed. What was so telling was the 20 to 30 bakkies and cars parked up, drivers waiting to be charged.

And that brings me to what I think is the fundamental problem with society in SA today. No-one thinks the rules of the land (or road) apply to them. Drink driving is rife. People run red lights, speed, talk on their phone while driving. It's not just the taxis! If no one cares about the small stuff, it’s no wonder people don't care about the big stuff!

Rant over - my fingers are too cold to continue. But at least there is one good thing about being in SA - I don't have to put up with the hype surrounding the European football and a certain team making it into the quarter finals. OK, life here isn't too bad after all!

Autumn

Autumn has finally reached Durban, and since we have now moved up the hill to chilly Westville, for the 1st time ever, Anya can actually appreciate what Autumn means. Our garden now has a carpet of golden leaves. Very impressive!

So began a very Euro-centric explanation of Autumn: e.g. why trees lose their leaves; birds migrate to Africa and bears hibernate. I also explained why squirrels stockpile food over Autumn. My next question: what food do squirrels eat? Anya's answer: coconuts!!!

I think my kids are seriously culturally confused.....

Living in a fairytale

Just had to re-tell this conversation with Solveig. After another nocturnal pester session I decided to have a wee chat in the car:

Me: Solveig, why do you wake Mummy up in the middle of the night?

Solveig: I wake up Mummy just like the Prince wakes up Sleeping Beauty!

Me: That's not quite the same thing. Sleeping Beauty only gets woken up the once...

Solveig: Yes! Once upon a dream!

And that's me told!!

Needless to say, the little 'Princess' looked very very pleased with herself all the way to school.

Dirndle-ing Along

This morning was a lot lof fun. I managed to persuade a few fellow parents at the German School to dress up for press photoshoots. To be honest, it took longer to put on the slap and squeeze myself into the Mettwurst-esque dirndle than it did to have the photos taken. And poor Hermann had to sacrifice 3 ice cold beers, which we later poured down the drains... it was only 11am after all. Nevertheless it got me thinking. I will quite literally dress up for anything. Need a sombrero in Durban? I'm your man. Need any sewing. I'll crank up the sewing machine. Fancy a spot of red PVC...best not say anything about that.....

And luckily, once Bierfest is over for another year and I have no excuse to indulge my milk maid fetish, I'll get to start planning my Rambo outift for my 40th!! Whoo hoo!!

To sleep, perchance to dream....

Not bloody likely! Having 2 kids has ruined me. First it was Anya and her year long nocturnal feeding habit (20 a day springs to mind), then I was lulled into a false sense of security with baby number 2 (slept thru the night from day 1) only to get the double whammy as soon as it could get out of bed on its own. Now I am doomed to listen out for the pitter patter of not so tiny feet. The door creaks open and Solveig stands right by my face staring at me until I pretend to wake up. Of course, if I steadfastly refuse to wake up, a good hard poke in the eye is also likely to elicit a response.

Now, in true Supernanny style I pick her up, and pop her straight back to bed, and she normally goes without a peep. So why get up in the first place? It's like she's just checking that we're still there. GET OVER IT!

Obviously the little mini-me goes straight back to sleep and is none the worse for wear next morning, while I have perfected the art of lying in bed silently grieving the thought of a good night's sleep. But not tonight! Oh no! Tonight I got up and made myself a cup of tea. BLOODY HELL! Not doing that again in a hurry! The cockroaches are the size of small rats in that there kitchen! So now I have a double case of the heebie jeebies and have retreated to the relative safety of the office. Better remember to buy a large case of Doom tomorrow.....

Chip off the old block....

Most of the time I am more than happy with my 2 beautiful, fun loving, cheeky little girls, who are wonderfully average in all that they do, and so long as they are happy and healthy, who cares! However, there are times when I wouldn't mind if they were child prodigies and 2 examples immediately spring to mind:.

1) Singing in the car!.

I'm sure I don't even have to begin to explain how, with our collective gene pools, it was just not possible for either Anya or Solveig to have a beautiful singing voice. Hermann sounds like the Terminator and our side of the family is famously tone deaf. Anyone who remembers the Banff Ranger Guides carol singing at Chalmer's Hospital accompanied by an electric organ on a tea trolley, must surely concurr. More recently, Kath & Jonny shared a hire car with us whilst on holiday in the Cape. The mental scars of listening to Solveig belt out 'sing-a-ling-a-ling' are still too fresh. Even more recently (ie. 10 minutes ago, on the way home from the Pav and a Sunday morning game of Putt-Putt) I was subjected to the most excruciating rendition of Sleeping Beauty's 'Once Upon A Dream'. In some countries this level of noise pollution would be illegal..

2) Playing Chess!.

Does anyone out there know how long it takes to actually lose a game of chess to a 4 year old? Working parents out there will be pleased to know that it takes at least 1 hour which, in no way shape or form, can possibly be described as quality time. You are not missing anything..

I'm off to pop a Miprodol.

Time Flies....

Flamin eck! I haven't updated this blog in over 2 years. Was the post World Cup hangover really that long? The answer is obviously YES!!!! It's a well known fact that Durbanites have been mourning the loss of any reason to dress up silly, drink copious amounts of beer and generally stay up past 10pm (and don't get me started on the Durbs nightlife for post twenty-somethings.....). Luckily the 80's Rewind Festival came to our rescue....and I've never seen so much neon clothing in one place at one time! Midge Ure proved he can still belt out a song, Nick Kershaw proved he is still as short as ever and Rick Astley proved that he drinks from the spring of eternal youth! The audience actually screamed when he came on stage. Not because we were so uber excited about the headline act. Not because Durban has a secret Rick Astley appreciation society. No! Everyone screamed because he looks EXACTLY the same as in 1987! And I mean exactly..

Full marks has to go to Jen, for coming with an outfit straight from her senior prom, complete with 3 inch high black stilletoes. I wore my trainers in preparation for 6 hours of non-stop Seafield moves that the Pink Panther would have been proud of. My outift was a homage to Agadoo, Black Lace, the first single I ever bought. Luckily, the young whippersnappers of today appear to be dipping into the 1980's for inspiration, and the shops all contain loads of 80's style clothes. A spot of Sheena Easton inspired makeup (slapped on with a trowel) and my look was complete. All that was needed was a spot of stadium karaoke.

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.....its a Total Eclipse of the Tarts!