Major rant warning!

It's another one of those posts - where I get to vent my spleen about something or someone that I really despise.

Today's fascinating topic is fireworks. I know, they're pretty and make everyone ooohh and aahhh at their magnificence but come on! They're loud and obtrusive and they scare my animals. I hate fireworks! And it's not a new thing either. Even as a child I hated the loud bangs that they produced and even more importantly, I hated the way all of our animals would cower in terror waiting for the next big blast.

This is of course the worst time of year for fireworks and even though November hasn't even arrived yet, the fireworks have. This evening the manor house which is right in the middle of the village decided to host a fireworks display. None of the residents of the village were warned (unless it was only us that didn't receive the memo) and before we knew what was happening, the loud bangs began. Fortunately our cats are still getting used to the new surroundings to they aren't allowed outside yet because they immediately scattered wide eyed and terrified to the darkest spots that they could find.

Even more astonishing is the fact that the boarding kennel for cats shares the same ground as the manor house. All I can say is thank god we had already fetched our two and brought them home because I cannot begin to imagine how horrible that experience would have been for them.

Of course many people believe that fireworks are a celebration and a right that they are entitled too but I wonder how many of them consider all the wild animals that are severely affected by it.

It saddens me that we as a society welcome this kind of intrusion on our environment, but I guess it's hardly surprising given the lack of empathy that we have for each other.

I've already signed all the petitions that I can find and I will continue to do so until someone realises that fireworks really aren't worth the paper they're wrapped in.

VP

I know that there is a lesson in here somewhere (perhaps it is that the title should never be longer than the post)

A wise woman would know that staying up late all week-end reading the archives of a particularly good blog (to be found here) would be very bad for her health and her complexion.

I am not a wise woman and I have the spots to prove it :-(

VP

When is spanking ok?

So I have suddenly started to be a popular choice when people search for anything to do with spanking. I assume that this type of spanking is the kind used on children and not the other kind. If it is the other kind, then sadly I won't have given them much joy (sorry 'bout that folks, perhaps in the future?)

Any hoo, about the spanking thing... Pat left a comment on one of my previous entries in which she mentioned the previous generations attitude to spanking and it got me thinking. The RO got to talking about it yesterday and its clear that our upbringing (which have been vastly different) have definitely shaped our views on the subject.

As I only have my own experience to draw on, I'll only share my opinion, maybe the RO with share his sometime to.

Spanking was a regular occurrence for me when I was growing up. This ranged from the regular 'slap on the thighs' right through to the more hard core 'belt or shoe'. Now let me hasten to add for those who haven't caught up with the story so far, I was a difficult child partly due to circumstance and partly due to genes (but that's a whole other story). The problem with this type of punishment as far as I can see is that it is only affective for as long as the child truly fears it. This is where my dad messed up a little. Spanking was always his first choice of punishment and it was always delivered in anger (I hasten to add that I was not 'beaten' or 'abused' and I have no bruises or scars to show for it). The frequency of the spanking made it lose all it's impact and this only transferred the control over to me.

Imagine for a minute that you receive a hard slap on the leg every day for the next year, sure it will still sting every day but eventually the anticipation for the sting dwindles until it is replaced with resigned acceptance. You know that the sting will fade pretty quickly and so the impact is removed. For me this is a completely illogical and ineffective form of punishment - the only thing this will strengthen is the child's stubborn and resilient traits.

It is a tough call to make for me because I don't want to ever be in the position where I would feel it necessary to give a child of mine a hiding. That's not to say that I will never be in that position however and so I have come up with a strategy that I hope will work for me...

• A hiding will always be my last resort.
• To me the most important method for dealing with disobedience is communication, the child needs to understand what he/she has done and why it is inappropriate.
• The second form or punishment I would use is consequence. Children quickly learn to understand the value of their own property when you threaten to remove it (or you do remove it). This extends to tv and game playing as well as toys etc
• Thirdly - grounding. This was perhaps the most effective form of punishment that my parents used (having overused all the others this was all that was really left) - especially as a young child/early teenager, the idea of not being able to see my friends was a biggie!

Now I'm not a fool, I realise that without actually putting this in to practice I have no way of truly knowing whether this method will work, however I am confident that between us, the RO and I will be able to support one another through all eventualities.

I really wish that my mom and dad had taken the time to think things through. I wish that my father had remembered that children need to be allowed the opportunity to be just children. As all my experiences are now in the past, I can only look to the future and hope that I won't make the same mistakes that they did. That as parents we will show a unified front, that any disagreement that we may have with each other or one another's parenting techniques will be discussed away from our children so as to protect them from the inevitable fallout that occurs when children witness cracks in their parents solidarity.

My parents made plenty of pretty bad decisions and as an adult I had to work through the anxiety and confusion that arose from them, but I came out fine at the other end as I can only hope other children in the same situation will too.

VP

The turning point...

So I drifted around for a few years, learning the true art of 'hardly making ends meet'. Although educational it wasn't the best time and working 2 jobs continuously meant that I didn't have all that much time for fun. Well really that's a lie, in truth I spent every Saturday night out ALL night and my habits were questionable. I had a good day job but a louse of a boyfriend who lived the comfortable existence of a parasite and I was pretty damn miserable.

I only spoke to my mom and dad when I absolutely had too and my father and I had drifted apart (although he still occupied the position of demi god in my eyes). As my 21st birthday approached things became more strained as family expectations rose. I had to attend the family party I was told, I really didn't have much choice in the matter. This of course only served to increase my resistance but eventually I agreed that I would at least put in an appearance. So invitations were sent out (including one to my father) and the day approached.

My party was held at my mom and dads house (previously my home) and it was the first time I had been back in 4 years. It was also the first time that my whole family would be in one place so there was a level of anticipation and excitement. 21st birthdays are really big deals in SA so I expected that all the important people would be there. Boy was I wrong....

As is tradition my father was to do a speech at the party. Some funny rendition of past events that I would find highly embarrassing but secretly would love. The expectation was there, but my father wasn't. Yip that's right, after 21 years of it, I still had faith that he wouldn't fail me but he did. By 9 that evening it was clear that he wasn't going to pitch up at all and the party looked doomed. That was until my dad stepped in. I didn't know this at the time but he had prepared a speech just in case. You see he had been there for every disappointment and had witnessed the damage that it had done.

My dads speech was short and sweet, it mentioned that we had had our differences but that to him I was always his first born. That we'd had our difficulties but that we'd learnt to respect each other. I was overcome with guilt as I began to realise who my hero should have been and was becoming. There were many wet eyes in the guests at my party that night but these soon turned to flowing streams when he signaled the dj to play a song that he had pre-chosen:

Butterfly Kisses - Colin Raye

There's two things I know for sure
She was sent here from heaven and she's Daddy's little girl
As I drop to my knees by her bed at night
She talks to Jesus and I close my eyes
And I thank God for all of the joy in my life
Oh, but most of all for..

Butterfly kisses after bedtime prayer
Stickin' little white flowers all up in her hair
"Walk beside the pony Daddy, it's my first ride
I know the cake looks funny Daddy but I sure tried
"Oh, with all that I've done wrong, I must have done something right
To deserve a hug every morning and butterfly kisses at night

Sweet sixteen today
And she's lookin' like her mamma a little more every day
One part woman, the other part girl
To perfume and make-up, from ribbons and curls
Trying her wings out in a great big world
But I remember...

Butterfly kisses after bedtime prayer
Stickin' little white flowers all up in her hair
You know how much I love you Daddy
But if you don't mind I'm only gonna kiss you on the cheek this time
Oh, with all that I've done wrong, I must have done something right
To deserve her love every morning and butterfly kisses at night

Oh the precious times
Oh, like the wind the years go by
Precious butterfly
Spread your wings and fly

She'll change her name today
and she'll make a promise and I'll give her away
Standing in the bride room just staring at her
She asked me what I'm thinking and I said
"I'm not sure, I just feel like I'm losing my baby girl"
And she leaned over...and gave me...

Butterfly kisses with her mamma there
Stickin' little white flowers all up in her hair
"Walk me down the aisle Daddy, it's just about time
Does my wedding gown look pretty Daddy? Daddy don't cry

"Oh, with all that I've done wrong, I must have done something right
To deserve a her love every morning and butterfly kisses
I couldn't ask God for more Man, this is what love is I know I've gotta let her go,
but I'll always remember
Every hug in the morning and butterfly kisses

I don't think many people have the privilege of knowing the exact moment that they grew up, but that was the moment for me. Suddenly I knew that for all the things that had been tough, for all the hardships and disagreements I had been blessed. I had grown up with such diversity, been exposed to completely different opinions and allowed to shape myself and be shaped by some incredible people. But more importantly, I had a man who had come to terms with fathering a small child when he was hardly a man. A man who, through all his own hardships had always supported me when I needed it most and who provided the solid foundation that a willful child like me needed.

I had been lucky enough to be loved - blood tie or no - by a dad.

VP

The story continues...

So there I was, early adolescence, difficult home life, parents with zero communication skills. Life had become a weird saga wherein I was the only person who acknowledged everyone's presence.

My father had become very successful and was mixing with some very influential people. South Africa at the time was right in the middle of apartheid but he and his friends were already discussion the probability of a 'new' South Africa. I, from the tender age of about 11 started spending time with some very intellectual and very serious adults. People who would consider every opinion that I had and who never found my intense curiosity strange. On the other hand, these same people grew quickly irritated with any glimpse of teenage angst or girly giggles - my father more so than any other. Week-ends at my fathers became a surreal type of grown-up game where I acted and was treated much older than my years.

During the week however things couldn't have been more different. My step dad simply couldn't cope with my precocious nature and instead chose to use punishment as a tool to curb my unruly tongue. He tried hidings, but I refused to cry. He tried grounding, but I enjoyed my own company as much as that of others. Instead of making progress with me, this reaction simply hardened my resolve against him and I used every opportunity available to make life hard for me. From sneaking out, to smoking I had a whole inventory of lies at the ready for any situation that I was caught in. The worst part was that none of my parents thought to seek each others opinions so I got away with it way longer than I should have.

At the age of 17, life at home had become beyond unbearable so I waited until my dad went away on a business trip, packed what little belongings I had and left home. I honestly believed that this was my only alternative. My mother and I had never seen eye to eye and the older I got the more viscous our insults became. My dad had all but given up on trying to 'break' me and instead just acknowledged me as little as possible*. The only path that I could take was to leave and start anew.

VP

* Years later my mother told me how devastated my dad was that I had left when he wasn't there. Unfortunately the veil of teenage misery obscured the fact that he really loved me as if I was his own.

Thursday update...

So the team building thing yesterday went quite well but as per usual the evening quickly slipped into debauchery for some. It's as if free booze brings out the worst in some people and loosens their tongues in a way that is painfully embarrassing for the people involved!

West Wing is going really well - and despite much seeking (on advice from Zinnia) I have failed to find any kind of support group to help with the addiction. We'll just have to stick it out and watch it all the way until the end before going cold turkey.

On other news the house is kind of getting there. Upstairs should be finished (except for decorating and furnishing) by tomorrow afternoon. Windows are half way there and the flooring should (hopefully) get under way next week.

Our cats come home on Saturday (YAY) which will be a very welcome homecoming. I have missed them tremendously and can't wait to have their little purring machines back where they belong.

I promise to continue with the story soon - at least as soon as I can focus away from the tv long enough to reconstruct the memories accurately.

VP

It'll have to be brief...

I'm going to have to take a brief break (not long I promise) from the long story.

Our new bed arrived today and so from tonight we are finally SLEEPING IN THE HOUSE!!! YAY :-)

Also, we bought the West Wing Season 6 box set yesterday and we're already deeply entrenched in the drama's of the oval office.

Bear with us during this difficult time, we are nursing an addiction and normal service will resume Thursday.

hugs & stuff...

VP (and MyMateSid)

A small step back in reflection...

After finishing the last post I started thinking back to my early adolescence and it struck me that I would need to give a little more detail about the circumstances that turned me into the horror child from hell :-) so here is a brief outline of the personalities that molded me in my youth.

Father (real father remember :-))
I've already mentioned that he is the artistic type, complete with brooding good looks and temperament. In addition to all this he is quite posh, came from a fairly well off English family where education was the most important rite of passage. He is also very liberal and surrounds himself with quirky yet incredibly interesting people.

20 years ago*, he had some less desirable character traits. He was a snob, had an intense aversion to Afrikaans and he preferred the company of woman who were a lot younger than him (not illegally young but definitely young). He also had absolutely no concept of discipline both for himself and his daughter. His way of dealing with bad behavior was to turn it into an adult conversation, to be dealt with on adult terms.

Dad (step-father remember :-))
My dad couldn't have been more different from my father. In fact he epitomised everything that my father despised. He was Afrikaans, from a working class family and happy with his lot(and ultimately the lot of his step daughter).

20 years ago** his approach to parenting involved extreme discipline ranging from simple grounding right through to serious spanking. He definitely came from the school of 'children should be seen and not heard' and he took the job of step father very, very seriously. I suspect that there was a bit of overkill involved there but who could blame him huh?

So baring the above in mind, I entered adolescence a little confused. On the one hand I was treated as a young adult who's opinion was seriously considered at all times and who never received any kind of discipline and on the other I was subjected to regular spanking for my 'smart' mouth and opinionated ideals.

I guess the differences in parenting created the ideal opportunity to manipulate things to my best advantage, especially as none of my parents ever spoke to one another.

Things began to get seriously out of control around the age of 13 when life at home with my mom and dad was at its worst. My dad had taken to drinking a fair amount and his relationship with my mom had soured resulting in massive arguments and much name calling. My sister (the first child from my mom and dads marriage) was 6 at the time and I spent a lot of time trying to protect her from their problems. On one occasion I can remember my mother coming home at around 6pm having worked overtime to get some extra money in. My dad was convinced that she had been having an affair and told her so in no uncertain terms. The more she tried to explain where she had been, the worse his anger became and the resulting argument began to spiral out of control. I remembered him saying to my mother that she could take me and leave and that she was no longer welcome in his house and I remember this as being the first time that my lack of fear for confrontation came to the fore. I entered the room and stated very clearly that he was the unwelcome one and that it should be him packing his bags and leaving. His reaction was unprecedented, he unceremoniously picked me up and threw me against a piano in the room. I don't remember the exact words that he said, but I know they were very unsavoury. I also remember that my mom didn't do a thing.

The following day, I phoned my father and told him what had happened. I expected that he would immediately fetch me and claim his right as a father. Unfortunately it quickly became apparent that this idea definitely didn't fit into his plans. Instead he said that he couldn't intervene in my mom and dads problems and that I should just stay out of their troubles. This was the first time that he had directly put his owns needs before mine. This was to be the first of many disappointments...

VP

* I have to clarify that he is a very different man today. Circumstances have changed so much that he is completely unrecognisable as the man that I have described above and I now respect him in many ways.

** Again, to clarify, my dad has since become a wonderful father and is also unrecognisable as the man I have described.

Bringing up baby (continued)

So mom came back with a new man in tow.

I don't remember this although I have other memories of events around this time. Dad2 was 4 years younger than my mom so the instant family thing must have been a real shock to the system.

Dad2 was the eldest son in a very traditional and conservative Afrikaans family however he had rebelled a little in his youth and had met my mom when he was drumming for a small rock band. His family was very conservative but they apparently welcomed my mom with open arms and accepted me as one of theirs.

My grandmother had different opinions on the matter. There were 2 specific issues that she had; the first was my mothers new man (I guess he just didn't compare to my father in her eyes), the second and more difficult issue was that she had become very attached to having me at their home. After a few years of being my mother, she really wasn't enamored with the idea of my mother reinstating herself as my mother.

Despite all the arguing, I moved back to my mother and new step fathers home and for a few years things continued without too much incident.

A couple of months after my 8th birthday, my step-grandfather was murdered and this had a major impact on my dads (you'll notice that I always refer to my step father as 'dad' and my real father as 'father') state of mind. Years later I was to realise that this horrible incident triggered post traumatic stress in my dad that had been lying under the surface as a carry over from his days in the army. Anyway, home life became a bit difficult as my dads depression escalated, resulting in terrible fights between him and my mother.

Up until this point I had had little or no contact with my father. To this day I am not sure where he was or why he chose to ignore his responsibilities, but ignore them he did and my step dad replaced him as my father figure. As life at home had become very strained I chose to get back in touch with him. What ensued was years of broken promises and disappointments from my father. Oddly however, he assumed a kind of god-like status in my eyes and could do no wrong.

I clearly remember the day that I figured out how to use the situation to my advantage and from then on it really wasn't pretty.....

A brief reprieve...

I will continue the story, I promise but have to brag out loud about how wonderful my friends are.

Last night a very good friend and his gorgeous and very sweet boyfriend 'popped' over to visit (after flying in from Cuba, traveling on a bus and taking 2 trains in order to do the popping). They're going back to SA tomorrow and had some things to do in London tonight so it was only a brief visit but it was wonderful.

It also served to remind me that I really am blessed with the most remarkable friends, I am clearly also blessed with impeccable taste and modesty too!

We went out for dinner and last night and I showed them around a bit this morning before they had to rush off but it has left both the RO and I feeling all warm and fussy - and we really like it :-)

VP

Bringing up baby (pilot episode - first draft)

Talking about my mom last night made me think that there might be a bit of a theme developing here that I hadn't considered. My family... For years I have said that really I should write a soap opera, it's that convoluted. As it's clear that there are more than enough of those around, I've decided to do the first draft here, after which I can start considering exactly which gorgeous, nubile young actress will be offered (begged) to play the part of me.

So where to start. I guess the beginning is always a good place so here goes...

I believe that my mom and dad met at high school, although the details of this have always been frustratingly scarce. My father is several years older than my mom but they went to the same school and grew up not far from one another.

My mother was a real looker (still is), 5"9, slender with long flowing hair and green eyes. My dad was uber cool, very artistic and I suspect the dark mysterious type due to his artistic temperament.

Somewhere along the line, they slipped up resulting in a hurried marriage to cover the suspicious little bump that had appeared under my moms tops. I know that it was a slip up and quite hurried because I was born 6 months after they got married.

From what I know it things went pretty well initially (university holidays and a fairly well behaved novelty baby) but after my dad went back to finish his architectural degree, cracks began to show. I believe my father moved out because of something to do with an apple core - obviously that was just a manifestation of other things, but that was the reason cited when I asked. This left my mom in the rather unfortunate position of being young, soon-to-be divorced and baby in tow. She did what I guess many people who like to do if they could and dropped me off with her parents. Little did she know that this decision would be the one that caused her the most pain for years to come.

I believe that mom went off and recaptured her youth (which given her age wasn't hard), leaving me in the excellent care of my grandmother, grandfather and 3 uncles. If my memory serves me correctly, these were the happiest days of my early childhood. I have very fond memories of endless baking episodes and breakfasts on grandads knee. He was the most patient and caring man, and I swear I never heard him raise his voice once.

3 years past and just before my 4th birthday, mom returned with a new fiance in tow....

My family and I aren't the emotional, touchy feely type (not that I'm knocking that kind at all promise) and we don't speak all that often. Sure we have the odd e-mail going back and forth but it's usually a joke or some kind of inspiration religious type thing that I seldom read anyway.

So when I received an e-mail about my mom from my sister yesterday, I knew that it was something that needed my full attention. It seems that my mom is having a bit of a melt down. She had lost her e-mail inbox along with all the wedding related e-mails, her mom (my gran who has been mentioned in previous posts) is giving her a hard time again and her she's been told that her car is going to blow up on her if she doesn't stop driving it. My sister went on to mention that my mom isn't eating properly again and has reverted back to an old trick of eating a bag of popcorn instead of real food in the evening.

This got me thinking, it's been really easy for us to pass the details of the wedding over to my mom, she loves doing it and always seems to cope so well. Maybe though, we've been a little slack in checking that everything is ok with her and maybe things are going on back home that I should pay more attention to.

So I phoned my mom nice and early this morning to have a little chat. She's ok but I can tell that she's getting stressed about having people (the RO's mom, dad and gran) staying at her house in December. You see, life in SA is expensive and my parents have always spent every cent on their kids. When she got the news about her car, I think it was just the last straw and everything became too much to deal with. After a nice long chat, I think that I managed to help her see what is important and what she really doesn't need to expend any energy on, little steps, little baby steps.

It's so frustrating having my parents struggle back home. Don't get me wrong, I love South Africa and I love being South African even more, but life back home is so difficult. Unless you're especially lucky, every month becomes a magic trick of juggling finances and cutting back on the little luxuries. Hopefully things will get better for all of them soon - I can hope can't I?

On a lighter note, the house is really coming along now. The new windows arrived today (hard wood and beautiful!) and the interior doors upstairs have been expertly hung.

Now for floors, final render, central heating and finishing touches....

Oh and the massive tv has arrived but the poor RO can't play with it until the tv room is finished :-)

VP

BSF*!!!!

Aaaargh! For a first world country, our bandwidth currently sucks!!

When the RO and I finally took possession of this house, the very first thing that we arranged was for broadband to be installed. Why?? Well because we're nerds and we both suffer from serious withdrawals if we don't have a serious dose of t'internet every night. Work surfing doesn't count, it has to be access from home.

We were really chuffed when they finally activated our line and we set out, in our usual geeky fashion, to get the modem connected and the wireless network up and running. No problem eh?

Except, except!! the bloody line keeps dropping! Every night for the past 5 weeks we have watched in horror as our posts get lost in the ether. Sometime between 6pm and 8pm every evening, the connection gets all dodgy. So why, I hear you ask, don't we just wait until after 8pm? Well, it's about choice you see, I choose to blog before 8pm and by god I expect to be able to!

So after suffering in relative silence (NOT) I decided to bite the bullet and call BT. The only reason I hadn't done it before was because we currently have a 2mb line (a carry over from the old house) and we've been wary of making them aware of our fortune given that we're now further out in a more rural setting.

For once the person on the other end seemed to know what he was doing but after testing the line he admitted that he couldn't find anything obviously wrong with it. Instead he would have to log the problem with their engineer type people so that they can check what the load is like in the area. This can only be bad news for our poor 2mb, we are definitely going to have to downgrade, and we'll probably find that the area is seriously short of bandwidth.

In an ideal world it would mean that they would have to upgrade the line into our little Village, but in the real world, it probably just means that those of us with more than our fair share will have to become one of the many rather than 'of the select few'.

Very selfish of me, but damn I like my bandwidth as it is!!

VP

p.s. VERY sorry about the use of caps and exclamation, it's been one of those days...

*Bloody Shit Fuck - as in, I am very annoyed *grin*

NOT a day of rest...

Saturday's are quite full for me so I seldom get a chance to get stuck in around the house. The RO enjoys some peace and quiet while I'm out horse riding on Saturday's so he tends to catch up on his gaming which has seriously taken a back seat while the house is being renovated.

In an attempt to speed up the renovation process, the RO and I decided to start stripping wallpaper in what will soon be our bedroom. Thankfully we had previously bought a steamer so the process wasn't as painful as it could have been but it has definitely highlighted our general unfitness (is that a word??). Both of us are now suffering from EDS (excessive decorating strain) and I can only thank my lucky stars that we are able to afford people who can help us.

Hopefully this means that our time in the caravan will soon be coming to an end. With the cold weather starting to set in it really isn't pleasant.

In recognition of the service that the little hovel has provided us, I thought I'd include a picture of it so that you can all send us lots of sympathy :-)

VP

Veering off again...

I know that there is absolutely no fluid transition from entry to entry, perhaps that will come with time. At the moment I am just writing about things that happen as they happen, especially about people/blogs that have a profound affect.

You may come to realise that I am quite broody at the moment (that's an understatement if ever there was one). Ever since the RO and I set a date for the wedding, my clock has been LOUDLY ticking away in my ear. It's so loud I swear that everyone around me can hear it as well.

As I've mentioned previously I have always liked babies/children and am always awe struck by pregnancy and everything that goes with it. Of course I have always taken it for granted that it would just happen if/when I wanted it to. I have had 'scares' (ok one was a little more than a scare but that's for another post, another time) and I still think that I'll be able to fall pregnant fairly easily.

Unfortunately, not everyone is that lucky. Sure I have 'intellectually' known that infertility exists and I have heard/seen programs about people who have gone through IVF, but since I don't personally know anyone who has had to go through it (I don't think), I've never really considered the impact that this must have.

Somewhere along the line, I clicked on a link to a blog written by a woman from back home. As is my habit whenever going somewhere new that is recommended by one of the blog writers that I admire, I immediately clicked on the archives and started at the beginning. I'm pretty anal when it comes to these things as I like to know the story from the beginning.

Reading Tersia's story has had such a profound effect on me that I suddenly felt that I had to try and consider what living with infertility must be like. Tersia and other woman like her are quite incredible. I'm not sure where the strength comes from as the stress and continuous financial/emotional pressure that goes hand-in-hand with IVF seems so incredibly intense that I'm convinced I would buckle at the very first hurdle.

All around me (especially in the UK it seems) I see young woman falling prey to the early pregnancy without any real idea of the implications. For these woman having a child so early in life is probably seen (if only initially) as a burden and yet all around the world their are these wonderful people desperate to experience the joy for themselves.

It is incredibly humbling to read a story like Tersia's, it makes me feel like there must be more that we, as woman, can do to support each other. Tersia seems to have a lovely support group of her own through the magic of t'internet, but what of the thousands of others who must feel so alienated and perhaps alien?? when surrounded by others to whom it all just comes so naturally?

Don't think for one minute that I pity Tersia or any of the other brave woman who follow the same difficult path that she did. I don't pity them at all, I do however pity those who condemn the intervention of science to assist. It saddens me that in a society so open and candid in so many ways, the true story behind infertility is hidden behind glossy documentary's and brief news headlines. Nobody speaks of the darkness following a failed cycle (I hope that's the right term?), or of the horror of pregnancy, followed by miscarriage, stillbirth or infant mortality.

Instead we blissfully go through our lives (if we're of the lucky fertile bunch) believing that everything is simple, that pregnancy comes easily and sometimes we aren't as thankful as we should be.

I know it's quite a sweeping generalisation - there are other wonderful, fertile woman out there who are equally supportive as those 'on the inside', but isn't it a pity that they are the exception rather than the norm?

Tersia is one of the lucky one's in the sense that she now has 2 beautiful babies at the end of her long journey. If only everyone could be that fortunate.

VP

Tradition speaks volumes

I received my first real request today, from a lovely lady named Pat, her comment can be found attached to yesterdays post. It seems Pat is the proud mum of some boys and so has asked for more info about my wedding dress.

Although I would love to relent and post all about it, I'm afraid tradition holds that the groom can't know anything about it and the RO reads my blog, so I'm a little restricted in that department.

I can, however tell you about my second choice, the dress that I very nearly chose - and would have loved had I not seen the other one at the last minute.

The dress was ivory white (just off white but not quite cream) and had a high waist and low scooped Victorian neckline. The dress itself was made out of heavy bridal satin with an overlay of antique lace. It sounds quite busy but it was actually quite understated and very 'Pride & Prejudice-ish', a style that I really love but haven't ever really been able to carry off. Weddings do give you a chance to be all girly though so it was a very difficult decision.

I think the only reason I didn't choose that particular design was because the one I did decide on makes my waist look about this > < big. No really! It's that clever!

I promise to post loads of pictures once the wedding has happened so that you can live vicariously through me Pat :-)

I will happily answer any other questions that you have about the wedding as the RO and I have been partners in all other decisions....

VP

Another ticked item?

There was one part of my wedding attire that I hadn't found.

I am not a small petite person, nor am I especially lady like. Oh sure, I can dress up and play the part but in my heart of hearts I am a tom boy and I like it that way. So when it came to my choice of outfit for my wedding, my immediate reaction was to go against all tradition and choose something that reflected the me that I'm most comfortable with. Imagine my surprise when EVERYONE reeled at the idea of the bride wearing a tuxedo :-)

So after much thought and deliberation, I conceded that perhaps I should at least try and find something more feminine and perhaps more appropriate. And I'm very glad that I did. Thanks to the help of a good friend, I found something that I felt both comfortable and pretty in.

I did, however want to have something that reflected my personality more accurately, and so I reserved the right to choose any shoes that I wanted. I've been searching high and low and have even gone so far as to buy 2 pairs to choose from. So the decision now lies between wedges or knee high boots.. surely one of these will meet my requirements?

Or will they? I'm not sure..... perhaps I should keep looking just in case.....

Another thing to tick off the list...

The decision to have our wedding over in South Africa makes a lot of sense both financially and logically. The weather is a bit more predictable and the pound/rand exchange rate is definitely favourable.

Having said that, planning a wedding from thousands of miles away isn't very straight forward so I am very lucky to be blessed with an awesome mother who absolutely loves planning any kind of social get together.

My mom has been wonderful, we made the funds available and explained what we wanted and she has basically taken care of all the details. One of the things that she was taking care of was sending invitations out to all my friends and family in South Africa. When we went over to see them for her 50th birthday in July, I took the hand pressed paper (very eco paper at that) and envelopes and between us we decided on the bits and pieces that were to be added.

It only occurred to me this week that I was responsible for arranging the invitations for everyone on this side of the sea, and I hadn't done it yet! So last night and today was spent putting the invitations together and finding out addresses for everyone that we wanted to invite. Tomorrow, we will post them!

Now that this item can be ticked off the list, I'm ready to tackle all the other little details that we need to see too. I'm accumulating the flight details for everyone who is flying over to SA and trying to help arrange accommodation where necessary. It's kind of like I imagine arranging a school trip is, except without the help of parents and administrators. I can only hope that I don't get it all wrong and land up with half of the guests stranded in Africa without any idea of what it's like.

Wow, the time is really passing fast, soon we will be jetting off to sunny Johannesburg and when we return (to the middle of winter) we will be Mrs & Mr :-)

VP

It's supposed to be he who forgets but..

I did and now I feel terrible.

The RO and I have several anniversary's and I clean forgot that today is one of them!

Just over 2 years ago today, I started work at what I thought at the time to be a temporary data capturing job. It was intended as a chance for me to take a break from the long hours that I had been putting in for years in South Africa, but instead it became a life changing occurrence.

A few days into the job I was informed that I would be receiving training in the software package that the project centered around. I wasn't too perturbed as I had worked for a software development company prior to that and knew that I could grasp things pretty quickly if I put my mind to it.

On the morning that the training took place I arrived at work expecting a dull and unstimulating experience, instead I was to meet the person that I had been unknowingly been waiting for all my life.

The RO entered the office along with his skanky side kick (another story altogether), looking very suave in a trendy suit with neatly trimmed beard and close cropped hair. He was appealing to look at sure, but it was his conversation that made the first impression last. Admittedly I didn't feel the earth move or see fireworks, but I felt very comfortable around him and looked forward to speaking to him again.

2 years on and I couldn't be happier. All the things that I was sure that I didn't believe in or for that matter want, have happened. We're engaged, in love and (mostly) happily ensconced in our new home.... and about to embark on a whole new chapter in our lives together... watch this space for details on whether we've been successful!

VP

Bloody hell!!

I was all ready to write a nice long rant about the day and everything at occurred. Instead I have spent the last hour trying to salvage my blog!

My connection dropped halfway through some maintenance and everything disappeared!

Now tea is ready (the RO has been slaving away) and there's no time for anything else. It will all have to wait until tomorrow *sigh*

VP

Tree Felling (the last installment)

Pictures 340
Originally uploaded by Sid and the pig.

They're gone, they're really all gone!!!

It's incredible how much difference a day makes! :-)

Yay for us....

VP

Tree Felling (part 5)

Tree Felling 4
Originally uploaded by Sid and the pig.

11:00am (give or take a couple of minutes)

Mr tree felling dude has made quick work of tree number 1....

He is now working his way from the top down.

Tree Felling (part 3)

10:10am

Moving up the tree with alarming speed and agility given the time of the morning.

Tree Felling (part 2)

Tree Felling 3
Originally uploaded by Sid and the pig.

On the ground this guy seemed heavy in foot and lacking in any kind of grace. Give him some foot clips and some weird belt type thing and he shimmies like there is no tomorrow!

Tree Felling (part 1)

Pictures 327
Originally uploaded by Sid and the pig.

At 9:00am this morning, our friends the tree fellers arrived to help us 'deal' with the pesky problem...

This picture was taken at around 09:20.

Tree Felling (part 0)

Tree Felling 0b
Originally uploaded by Sid and the pig.

This is the view from the bottom right corner of our garden. The RO was kind enough to plonk himself under the tree to give you some idea of the sheer size of the pesky conifers that block out all of our light.

The countdown begins...

If you've been reading the blog up until now (if you haven't the archive section is on the left :-)) then you'll know that our poor animals have been subjected to a holiday camp while our house is being renovated.

It wasn't an easy decision to let someone else look after them for us but we had to be practical and think of their welfare as well. Hopefully that time will be coming to an end sometime in the not so distant future so that we can introduce the cats to their new home and re-introduce the dogs to their huge toilet (toilet training is still an issue).

Given that the poor babies have been away from home and us for so much of the year, we've decided to employ the services of an Animal Aunt for the 3 weeks that we are in South Africa in December.

It's a fairly expensive decision but one that we both feel will benefit the animals (giving them more time to get used to their home) and us as I really struggle with the concept of them being put back into kennels.

Our dedicated 'Aunty' called to introduce herself today and she is truly lovely. I felt a lot more confident in our decision after speaking to her and it's a real load off my mind that my babies will be looked after in the manner that they are accustomed to.

The bonus is that there will be someone in the house the whole time that we are away which means that we don't have to worry about security either. The RO is a little worried about whether she'll be able to handle the high tech tv system, but I'm confident that he will be able to leave her very detailed instructions.

Only 61 days to go, aren't we lucky :-)

VP