I am large, both in character and in person. I have always been and I have always accepted it as a part of me. Another part of me has got to be my ingrained love of all animals. Some more than others but horses have produced the strongest loyality. Much against my parents firm belief that horses will one day be the death of me. I have recently changed jobs which has been a life altering experience and has led to me having to explain that I have always ridden and yes I have always been big! I just have to ride larger horses, which are becoming a much more common sight nowadays.
Enjoying riding has become something of a cherished state even though I work at a huge yard, My job here is to move poo and to teach people! Not much else. Where as in my last job my place was to ride with clients that is someone else's job today! I miss it but it is not the worst thing in the world. I am learning to live with this but I have to look to other means of escape. I am thinking I am going to take up Zumba and see how that goes. It is not the first time I have done it but I have never been particularly successful! So all wish me luck!
Tuesday, 12 August 2014
Saturday, 15 February 2014
Road Tripping and Egg Sandwiches.
Now I have mentioned before that I have forever suffered from carsickness. Not the blindly vomiting over everything as soon as the car starts but rather just the feeling of being unwell and a massive headache. Now I know that this is completely in my head. Proof is in the fact that I can turn green after a 15 minute drive and yet I have only ever once felt carsick while doing a holiday road trip. It is magic, as soon as there is a suitcase in the boot then there is no sign of me going green around the gills. But like every rule there is an exception. And my kryptonite is egg sandwiches.
Dont laugh but they are my ultimate nightmare in the car. In fact whom ever decided to combine egg and mayonaise in a sandwich should be drawn and quartered in my honest opinion. My mothers egg mayo sandwiches are legendary in our family and my younger sister has also developed into another egg mayo 'artiste'. Oh how the Gods can be so cruel to me. I wish I could remember the first time my parents offered me an egg sammie on a road trip because I am sure I was not a pleasant human to be with on that occasion. Many similar families in South Africa also travel across the country for the summer/Christmas holiday break but I am not sure how many do it in the style that we do. Whenever I traveled with other families I was always pleasantly surprised to find they actually visited the restaurant that can be found at the petrol stations throughout the nation's highways. For our family those rest stops are necessary evils, a quick loo break and just enough time to refuel the car and maybe change drivers if my dad was having an off trip. The average stop took less than 10 minutes. Who wants to stop on the road to one of our fabulous family holidays.
In order to accomidate the need to not waste time stopping my family became the masters of creating 'Pad Kos or better known as 'Road Food'. As we grew older of course the vast array had to increase to meet the huge demand of five people. Now the standard was the infamous Egg Mayo Sandwiches. My mother would spend ages the night before we left boiling and mashing eggs to create these daemons. At the very minimum there would have to be at least sandwiches individually wrapped in wax paper and stacked beautifully in the largest of tupperwares you will ever see. All I can say is thank every God for the smell resistance of those boxes. After 3 hours of driving you would never guess that those abominable sandwiches lurked right next to my moms feet, until Dad started to get hungry. Then the cacophony of horrendous Sulphur smells would travel through the car, pushing me ever closer to passing out.
Luckily for me my mother understood my uniqueness and soon there was a new type of sandwich in a seperate, smaller box, Cheese Sandwiches. Precisely what the doctor ordered. With a good helping of butter these door stop sandwiches are the only reason I was ever able to survive the torture of a car full of Egg mayo connoisseurs. It was quite amusing because on some of the longer car journeys my family grew to love the cheese wedges, because even with every cooler box under the sun after 24 hours in refrigeration egg sandwiches often more closely resemble egg mayo mush. While the yellow cheese can sometimes wilt they dont tend to loose shape and therefore are the favourite for the end of a long and arduous road trip.
To Be Continued.
Dont laugh but they are my ultimate nightmare in the car. In fact whom ever decided to combine egg and mayonaise in a sandwich should be drawn and quartered in my honest opinion. My mothers egg mayo sandwiches are legendary in our family and my younger sister has also developed into another egg mayo 'artiste'. Oh how the Gods can be so cruel to me. I wish I could remember the first time my parents offered me an egg sammie on a road trip because I am sure I was not a pleasant human to be with on that occasion. Many similar families in South Africa also travel across the country for the summer/Christmas holiday break but I am not sure how many do it in the style that we do. Whenever I traveled with other families I was always pleasantly surprised to find they actually visited the restaurant that can be found at the petrol stations throughout the nation's highways. For our family those rest stops are necessary evils, a quick loo break and just enough time to refuel the car and maybe change drivers if my dad was having an off trip. The average stop took less than 10 minutes. Who wants to stop on the road to one of our fabulous family holidays.
In order to accomidate the need to not waste time stopping my family became the masters of creating 'Pad Kos or better known as 'Road Food'. As we grew older of course the vast array had to increase to meet the huge demand of five people. Now the standard was the infamous Egg Mayo Sandwiches. My mother would spend ages the night before we left boiling and mashing eggs to create these daemons. At the very minimum there would have to be at least sandwiches individually wrapped in wax paper and stacked beautifully in the largest of tupperwares you will ever see. All I can say is thank every God for the smell resistance of those boxes. After 3 hours of driving you would never guess that those abominable sandwiches lurked right next to my moms feet, until Dad started to get hungry. Then the cacophony of horrendous Sulphur smells would travel through the car, pushing me ever closer to passing out.
Luckily for me my mother understood my uniqueness and soon there was a new type of sandwich in a seperate, smaller box, Cheese Sandwiches. Precisely what the doctor ordered. With a good helping of butter these door stop sandwiches are the only reason I was ever able to survive the torture of a car full of Egg mayo connoisseurs. It was quite amusing because on some of the longer car journeys my family grew to love the cheese wedges, because even with every cooler box under the sun after 24 hours in refrigeration egg sandwiches often more closely resemble egg mayo mush. While the yellow cheese can sometimes wilt they dont tend to loose shape and therefore are the favourite for the end of a long and arduous road trip.
To Be Continued.
Wednesday, 12 February 2014
Oh Africa!
You have to love living in Africa. For anyone who has never been here come and visit it is truly amazing. From City living to Bushveld wilderness there is nothing quite like it! For about 5 years of my life we as a family would head off to the Kruger park and surrounding areas for a short holiday. These holidays would always be highlighted with the inevitable fight that happened with my parents as my mother would lash out at all who dared to question both the slow pace of driving and the endless staring at nothing more than a bird or a flower - never very attention grabbing for 3 young children.
The one year we stayed at a family resort just outside of Kruger called Sanibonani. It was great for 2 simple reasons one it had a private miniature golf club and 2: it had a river that ran right outside our chalet. It was beautiful and I loved it! Everyday we would spend time in the pool - where I lost a tooth in an unfortunate 'headbutting the fountain in the middle of the pool' incident, and time on the golf course - perfecting my swing and my brother would spend time doing a 'sport' that only a man can love. Fishing. One afternoon Ant went down to the river and sat next to an old security guard who had also taken up the opportunity to sample Africa's great rivers. Yes there were notices up about watching for wildlife but they continued regardless. Now Ant was a young 'athletically challenged' boy at that time. I think he must have been around 11 years old then, but this was all about to change. Ant was about to break all land speed records for fastest moving fat kid.
You see after a magnificent cast Ant immediately felt the tell tale signs of a ginormous bite. With reflexs of a cat he proceeded to reel the catch in. Unfortunately Ant had not caught himself any form of fish, or in fact any form of cold blooded animal. No, only Ant could manage to snare himself a brand new hippopotamus calf. This would have been a fantastic catch for anyone looking to get themselves there own pet hippo but unfortunately for Ant: he A; didnt particularly want one and B; the mother of the poor hooked creature was firmly against the illegal capture of her precious baby. And then it all happened.
Momma Hippo burst through the water like only a ton of hippo could, bellowing at the offending intruder. The old security guard (possibly realising how close to near death he was) reinvented himself as a tree surgeon and deftly scaled the nearby tree and Ant broke the land speed record. Til my death I will never forget the look on Ants face as his legs worked overtime to get him into the relative safety of one of our chalets. his legs pumps and his arms flailed as he raced over a series of small walls (not even 2 feet high) without ever looking back. The role of the walls quickly came to the fore as we soon found out while hippos can run at speeds greater than 40km they cannot scale anything over a foot high.
Now what happened to the calf you might ask. Well after the ordeal we were instructed to stay far away from the water but the old security guard bought back the fishing rode - completely intact.
You see after a magnificent cast Ant immediately felt the tell tale signs of a ginormous bite. With reflexs of a cat he proceeded to reel the catch in. Unfortunately Ant had not caught himself any form of fish, or in fact any form of cold blooded animal. No, only Ant could manage to snare himself a brand new hippopotamus calf. This would have been a fantastic catch for anyone looking to get themselves there own pet hippo but unfortunately for Ant: he A; didnt particularly want one and B; the mother of the poor hooked creature was firmly against the illegal capture of her precious baby. And then it all happened.
Momma Hippo burst through the water like only a ton of hippo could, bellowing at the offending intruder. The old security guard (possibly realising how close to near death he was) reinvented himself as a tree surgeon and deftly scaled the nearby tree and Ant broke the land speed record. Til my death I will never forget the look on Ants face as his legs worked overtime to get him into the relative safety of one of our chalets. his legs pumps and his arms flailed as he raced over a series of small walls (not even 2 feet high) without ever looking back. The role of the walls quickly came to the fore as we soon found out while hippos can run at speeds greater than 40km they cannot scale anything over a foot high.
Now what happened to the calf you might ask. Well after the ordeal we were instructed to stay far away from the water but the old security guard bought back the fishing rode - completely intact.
Braces... AND HEADGEAR!
If anyone knew me as a child you would know that I have always had the ugly duckling thing covered and I never grew into a swan but more like a goose. Nice and homely but not the stunning type, I am not and nor will I ever be ashamed of that fact. But I thank god every day that my parents basically bankrupted themselves in order for me to go through TONES of dental treatment. Or else I would have closer resembled a bald headed vulture in the beautiful bird analogy we have going here.
It all started with a small visit to the dentist. One quick visit was all it took for my life to be altered for ever. Looking back now I realise that as a small child I used to leak food when eating. And I know that that sounds a bit odd but with the malformations in my mouth I did used to leak food while eating, often without even realising it. I am serious, after a meal my top and lap would have been home on the walls of a famous abstract art mueseums, what with the multi-tonal hues of food liberally splatted across me. This was due to a gap between my jaws. A rather large gap. When my mouth was closed there was a space about 4 cm wide between the back of my top teeth and the front of my bottom teeth - known as an 'overbite'
After being referred to a new doctor off we went for our consultation meeting with Dr Thomadakis, a brilliant young doctor not too far up the road from me. He welcomed us with open arms and immediately sent me off with a nice nurse to have my entire head x-rayed. after 20 minutes of mouth prodding and asking what felt like a million questions he brought me and my parents into the office to talk. He gave us too options. I was expected to have a new growth spurt any day now and we had to choose. Either have surgery and physically break my jaw and set it where it should be. Or ride the growth spurt until my jaw and teeth were where they should be. Now we chose the second option and I am eternally grateful. Not even 2 years later another girl in my class chose the first option and to my belief they ruined her face.
On went the braces and on the first day I thought everyone had over reacted about the 'pain' people go through. I mean maybe there was a little discomfort as your mouth adapted to the massive metal invasion but it couldn't be that bad. And then the first night happened. Oh yes, the pain was not sharp, but more like pressing on a 2 day old bruise. A dull ache - particularly around my eyes funnily enough - kept me up most of the night. But that wasn't even the start. The worst was the infamous headgear followed closely by the degrading elastics. I was lucky as my doctor was nice and said I only had to wear it at night. I will forever be indebted to that man but one thing about growing up in SA is the amount of camps we had to go on for school at least 2 a year. But still no one but my closest friends found out about the head gears as I became a pro at putting it on in the dark.
There is one night that will forever be scared in my mind. My father was an up and coming Ship Broker and we were all expected to behave ourselves as my father was having a few of the top honchos from the UK over for dinner. We were all nicely dressed, the food was prepared and they whole evening was by in large a grande success as there was at least 20 litres of wine consumed. But alas for me it was to end in fiasco much to every one else's amusement. We had just finished clearing up when I was sent to bed. It was 'Adult time now' aka further drinking time. Me, being the angelic child I was, diligently went off to bed to not only five minutes later come screaming up the passageway in my Eeyore pajamas chasing my beloved dog Star. She had decided that my much abhorred headgear was in the process of becoming a newly fashioned candle stand as Star tried her best at becoming an Artiste. Bolting through the house chasing the infernal pooch I inadvertently disregarded the warning shrieks as I ran head first in the the MD of the whole company. I died. I swear to God I died. The looks I recieved from the entire party was enough to scar me for life. Funnily enough my dog came and assisted me to my feet as well as depositing the now abused headgear in my hand.
My mom says that when she stopped smoking she lost one of her closest friends. I felt the same way when I got my braces off. There was great elation during the day - proudly smiling at even the dodgiest of strangers but at night when I was all alone in bed I reached out to get my comfort blanket and realised that it was no longer there. My headgear was gone. I didnt sleep well for a month.
It all started with a small visit to the dentist. One quick visit was all it took for my life to be altered for ever. Looking back now I realise that as a small child I used to leak food when eating. And I know that that sounds a bit odd but with the malformations in my mouth I did used to leak food while eating, often without even realising it. I am serious, after a meal my top and lap would have been home on the walls of a famous abstract art mueseums, what with the multi-tonal hues of food liberally splatted across me. This was due to a gap between my jaws. A rather large gap. When my mouth was closed there was a space about 4 cm wide between the back of my top teeth and the front of my bottom teeth - known as an 'overbite'
After being referred to a new doctor off we went for our consultation meeting with Dr Thomadakis, a brilliant young doctor not too far up the road from me. He welcomed us with open arms and immediately sent me off with a nice nurse to have my entire head x-rayed. after 20 minutes of mouth prodding and asking what felt like a million questions he brought me and my parents into the office to talk. He gave us too options. I was expected to have a new growth spurt any day now and we had to choose. Either have surgery and physically break my jaw and set it where it should be. Or ride the growth spurt until my jaw and teeth were where they should be. Now we chose the second option and I am eternally grateful. Not even 2 years later another girl in my class chose the first option and to my belief they ruined her face.
On went the braces and on the first day I thought everyone had over reacted about the 'pain' people go through. I mean maybe there was a little discomfort as your mouth adapted to the massive metal invasion but it couldn't be that bad. And then the first night happened. Oh yes, the pain was not sharp, but more like pressing on a 2 day old bruise. A dull ache - particularly around my eyes funnily enough - kept me up most of the night. But that wasn't even the start. The worst was the infamous headgear followed closely by the degrading elastics. I was lucky as my doctor was nice and said I only had to wear it at night. I will forever be indebted to that man but one thing about growing up in SA is the amount of camps we had to go on for school at least 2 a year. But still no one but my closest friends found out about the head gears as I became a pro at putting it on in the dark.
There is one night that will forever be scared in my mind. My father was an up and coming Ship Broker and we were all expected to behave ourselves as my father was having a few of the top honchos from the UK over for dinner. We were all nicely dressed, the food was prepared and they whole evening was by in large a grande success as there was at least 20 litres of wine consumed. But alas for me it was to end in fiasco much to every one else's amusement. We had just finished clearing up when I was sent to bed. It was 'Adult time now' aka further drinking time. Me, being the angelic child I was, diligently went off to bed to not only five minutes later come screaming up the passageway in my Eeyore pajamas chasing my beloved dog Star. She had decided that my much abhorred headgear was in the process of becoming a newly fashioned candle stand as Star tried her best at becoming an Artiste. Bolting through the house chasing the infernal pooch I inadvertently disregarded the warning shrieks as I ran head first in the the MD of the whole company. I died. I swear to God I died. The looks I recieved from the entire party was enough to scar me for life. Funnily enough my dog came and assisted me to my feet as well as depositing the now abused headgear in my hand.
My mom says that when she stopped smoking she lost one of her closest friends. I felt the same way when I got my braces off. There was great elation during the day - proudly smiling at even the dodgiest of strangers but at night when I was all alone in bed I reached out to get my comfort blanket and realised that it was no longer there. My headgear was gone. I didnt sleep well for a month.
Sunday, 27 February 2011
Hoo Hoo - NO SHNOO
Right! I have had enough! ONE incident and now everyone is hooting at me... As in hoo hoo the call of the wild ... OWL.
It is enough to be the out in out WORST horse rider on the yard. It is an accepted fact and I embrace my position in the world with the smile on my face but I have to say that this one takes the cake. God obviously thinks it is time for me to give up horse riding and focus on my other passions - interpretative dance anyone? - I mean this is simply ridiculous.
So on Sunday I fell off Shnoo. It was stupid and yet rather funny but oh well I landed up on the floor... GREAT. But then matters only got worse. I was riding on Wednesday. Well I wouldnt even say that. I would say I had JUST sat on Shnoo and Started walking around the INDOOR arena minding my own business when a bird flew into me. Yes.
A bird flew into me.
INTO.
ME.
While I was riding.
To say I hate birds is an exaggeration but I am not their biggest fan at the best of times. I mean birds are meant to be free and flying in open air - NOT INSIDE AN ARENA. So Shnoo being the simpleton she was got a fright and stopped. And I got a bigger fright and SCREAMED. But My wonderful horse just stood there while that creature beat me with its wings... NOT COOL. Alright maybe Beat me might be a stretch but what the heck I am typing here. Artistic License.
The poor bird was so disorientated that it took off again... STRAIGHT INTO THE MIRRORS. Well this is where the drama ensued. Shnoo - already alarmed - spooked at the almighty crash and I landed up at her feet. With Shnoo looking at me like I was the biggest idiot she had ever seen. GREAT. So after a breather where my vision cleared and I could remember my name, I walked over to the crumpled mass on the floor. It was not just a bird. IT WAS AN OWL. Seriously. An. Owl.
Friends for all weather!
Well we have done it! We have gone to South Africa for Christmas and made it out again in one piece! And they say that Johannesburg is dangerous! HA! I have grown up there and there is nothing that you can do to make me forget about that place. Granted there has been some scary times the worst for me was the xenophobic attacks at university but there is nothing like danger to remind you of all you have in the world.
One of these things is friends. I am not the MOST friendly person in the world but what I have are good solid reliable and hilarious friends. It is one of the great things about being able to choose them - you can ditch the ones that arent worth your while.
But I have learnt something. I have always got the clicke thing happening in my groups. There is always the Ultimate Leader. This person is the one that everyone turns to lead no matter what the occation and they always seem to know precisely what to say to make us smile. Then there is the stylish kid. Usually second in command, with really cool clothing and the one that all people look to. Following that is the Nerd, the Foreigner, the Comic, the Classic, the Blonde and the outsider. I am none of these. I am the one that people look to when there is nothing else to do and I love my position!
I have an issue with being reliable. It is simple really, if I am not required to be there for any particular reason - such as Job or Class - then it is really my choice to be there and most of the time I wont be. Cause I like to sleep to much!
Thursday, 19 August 2010
Open Waters!
Not too long ago my brother met a sweet young girl and they had a typical all or nothing romance that happens when you are young and tender! Unfortunately the romance didnt last be our familys are now fast friends. In fact they emigrated out of South Africa first. When they did this they left us with the oldest hobbi-cat 16 ever! But to my brother and I it was amazing! We had grown up sailing a Layer and Oppi and so this aged boat was the next step in our sailing adventures.
A week later my parents allowed us siblings to go on a holiday to try out our new aquisttion and oh man was it amazing! We headed off to our time share resort property on Sterkfontien Dam. Whilst I spent most of my days working with the young horses I watched my brother and sister zip across the waters infront of me. When I finally tore myself from the horses I raced down to the waters edge and off we went! Qwantani is based on the south side of the dam in a alcove about 1.5 km wide and the dam itself is one of the oldest and deepest banked dams in Africa and when I say that there are hardly ever any boats on the water I am not lying! We have been on the water on one of the most beautiful days and there only being 3 other boats on the water! My family loved water sports. We had Rowing boats, sailing Boats, Wind Surfers, Canoes, Paddle Skis and then a Power Boat with all the toys. We literally would stay on the water all day no matter the weather.
So off my Brother and I went into the open water on the most amazing gift we have ever received. when the wind gusted we would be up on one hull with me hoping that we could may be not flip. The white hulls dragged left and right catching the changing wind and then I saw it! With winds changing it means one thing in the Drakensburg... RAIN! So we Jived and were racing home hoping against all hopes that we could get back before the skys opened and drowned us out! It was one of the most exhilarating feelings leaning out back over the open water and watching a storm draw near!
As we entered the Harbor the heavens decended and we were left cold and wet and with the Biggest Smiles on our faces ever!
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