The Variety of Life

The last week has been such a hectic week. It is end of year wrap up of most companies so I had 2 year end functions as well as a Christmas party and a night in the casino being entertained by an international comic. I love the fact that we get such a variety of entertainment in Cape Town.

Tuesday we had our book-club Christmas party. We booked at Kitima as it is in Hout Bay and easy for us all to get to, but mostly because it has amazing food and I think was even awarded the ‘Best Asian Food’ Award. The décor and service is brilliant, even when it is rammed full like is always is. The bartender was a bit full of himself and not great on the customer service, he snapped at me when I complained I had been waiting almost half an hour for my cocktail. But the food was good as was the company, we had a lot of laughs.

Wednesday was the end of year party for the company I contract through. It was booked on a small yacht, where we were told we would ‘cruise round the harbor, drop anchor in Camp’s Bay and have lunch’. Sounds divine doesn’t it? It wasn’t anything like that in actuality. We booked the only rubbish weather day of the week. It was a misty drizzly day and the water was very choppy. The driver took off full belt out of the harbor and we bounced and rocked and it was horrid. They seemed to be trying to just take us somewhere, anywhere, and then get us back as quick as possible. We were drenched with sea water, sea sick and sodden. Not pleasant in the least little bit. Why the driver (pilot?) had to go hell for leather I have no idea. No one could stand without holding on and one guy was so sick he spent the whole trip in the loo.

Thursday was our group of mates all off to see Jimmy Carr live at Grandwest Casino. We were all rushing to get there as our group of 14 could not pre-book a table. Seems insane to me, but there you go. So we had a group go ahead and book as big a table as possible. We all squeezed round a table for 10 and threw the food down our necks to make the venue on time. We didn’t have long to wait until the opening act, he was very funny. Of course Jimmy was, but it was a nice treat to get to hear a new local comedian. After the show some of the group went off for drinks but as I had been out late every night we headed home.

Friday was our end of year function with the company where I am currently contracting. We went to Moyo out at Spier wine farm. We had welcoming cocktails in a tree house, then went down to our tables in the tented area. The food was great, the drinks yummy and we all had a lovely afternoon.

We had Lily’s BF down for the weekend, and I wasn’t up to cooking for us all so we ordered in pizzas for the 6 of us and had a chilled out evening at home.

Saturday we were going to put up our Christmas tree and have a braai, but the weather looked a bit iffy so I decided to do homemade burgers. Lily and I made baked potatoes, a big salad and mealies to accompany it, and we had a feast! Nothing fancy, but plenty of food and lovely to have the family all together other than my son.

This is the last week with our visitor from the USA so I decided to treat us all to dinner at somewhere a bit special. I booked a table by the window at Salt. We had been there during the world cup and were very unimpressed with the food then, so most likely would not have gone back but then I heard they had changed their chef and I thought I would give them another chance.

On the day I got a call from the venue asking me to phone and confirm my booking. I missed the call but phoned back and spoke to someone to confirm both the booking and that we were by the window, yet when I arrived I got a bit of snarky attitude from the hostess who said ‘oh so you are here’. As we were there early for our booking, I wasn’t sure what she meant? I said, ‘yes I phoned to confirm as you requested and spoke to a lady with an Asian accent.’ So I asked if we could just have a cocktail as we were a few minutes early and we popped into the bar.

Once our drinks arrived, we went and asked could we be seated and away we went. We asked the waiter what he recommended and he suggested the fillet steak. It appealed to us all and the entire table ended up ordering it. We all asked for it to be medium rare except for Lily who can’t bear her meat even a bit pink.

We ordered a few bottles of wine and sat back to enjoy the lovely sun set and chat. Our waiter was very attentive, but not annoyingly so.

The steaks arrived and all of them except for Lily’s was overcooked. Not a drop of blood or pink to be seen. I said to the waiter they were overcooked and he just looked devastated. I would always send back an undercooked steak, but the idea of wasting 4 beautiful cuts of meat was too much for me to bear. So we ate them, but we all felt a bit cheated. It meant the meat was dry, there was only a dribble of au jus on the plate so even that didn’t save them. We were very disappointed.

The desserts were very nice, other than Mr K. He ordered some sort of vanilla chocolate panacotta stuff flavoured with wasabi. He said all he tasted was wasabi, he expected it to just have a bit as an accent but it was overwhelming. The girls and I had a chocolate crème brulee which was divine so I think he just made a bad choice. Our total bill was almost R2k bucks so I would have preferred to be able to rave about how brilliant the new chef is, but really I can’t in all honesty do so.

So what do you do if you get overcooked meat? Do you send it back and make them worry about the wastage? Or do you avoid making a fuss and just eat it?

I’m always paranoid I get some nasty chef spitting in my food if I complain…

Astral Travel or Just a Nightmare?

I had an interesting conversation with my friend M on the weekend about sleeping and dreaming.

She said that since she has been on these supplements 'prescribed' by this nutritionist she is remembering her dreams. I said that I seldom remember my dreams unless they are nightmares and wake me. She asked me whether I ever have those moments of your body being asleep but your mind being awake and you are struggling to move. I do have those and I told her of a time recently when I was having a bad dream about spirits and ghosts and I was trying to speak but only a loud keening, wailing sound would come out.

This sound was so eerie and horrid that it woke up Mr. Kitten who then thought I was having some sort of a fit. I was aware of the noise I was making, but my body would not move and I could not speak. It was rather terrifying. The dream was terrifying and maybe my psyche was trying to run from it.

She then proposed an alternative possible solution. Could it be Astral Travel?  I do fully believe that the mind is so much more powerful than we can even possibly imagine, that we as humans have either lost, forgotten or suppressed so many of the things which our ancestors learned centuries ago. But could it be that our conscious self has forgotten it but our unconscious mind can still tap into these mysteries, particularly while we are in a state of deep sleep?

I then joked that maybe this is why my body has so many aches and pains, maybe I do not have arthritis at all but my unconscious self is out kicking ass and raising hell while my physical body is having some down time so when I wake I have all the bruises and bangs from my evil twin’s naughty behavior?

Have you ever experienced that feeling of half wake/half sleep when you are having a nightmare and cannot come out of it? Have you ever woken your partner or kids with disturbing sounds while sleeping?

I do believe I have had this experience before. I had an alternative therapy session in London with this chick that had just learned this new therapy. I cannot for the life of me remember what it was called as it was Japanese. Basically it was like Reiki and Aromatherapy and a few other things combined.

She put some oils on several places, my 3^rd eye included. She then started holding her hands over my body and moving them without actually touching me. I went off into what can only be described as a hallucination, but it was as clear and real as if it was happening right then in the same room.

I was walking along a dirt path, I could hear the sound of drums in the distance and as I moved forward I saw a Native American village, tepees, horses, and women and children. No men, which I found interesting. I walked on and an ancient Native American woman with long white hair, dressed in animal skins and beating a drum was in front of me. I was compelled to walk towards her and when I got to her she put her arms around me and said, ‘Welcome Home’. Then all of the women came up and embraced me. I felt such a feeling of warmth and love and peace. She kept repeating ‘Do you know who you are?’. Obviously I don’t!

I love going to psychics. The strange thing is that I have had several psychics say to me that I am a descendant of White Buffalo Woman, who is also known as Menada. Both of my great grandmothers were full blooded Cherokee. I know very little about my heritage as just a few generations back in my bloodline, my family was illiterate. (No comments about my bad grammar and spelling you cheeky fucks, blame the American education system OK?) So very little exists to tell me about them and most of my relatives who could tell me are dead.

My daughter is now studying with a shaman, I know that she has inherited the power of our ancestors. I am glad she is getting the chance to study our history and how to tap into this power.

None of my night travels have taken me back to this village and none of the women (ancestors?) have appeared to me since. I hope that my daughter can open these paths in her own learnings. And I hope someday to again meet White Buffalo Woman.

Everything from Sushi to Opera

After the week I had last week I am so happy my weekend proved to be relatively stress-free!

Friday Mr K had arranged to meet some colleagues at the Hout Bay Harbour Market. As usual it was rammed with people but we managed to get a table outside on the patio so we settled in to listen to the live music and get stuck into the culinary delights. We had a lovely time and didn’t get home terribly late as they were all due at the airport very early to drop the volunteers who were finishing their projects and heading home.

Lily was also working on Saturday morning, and I heard them all trundle off, then I passed back out waking only when the gardener rung the bell. I was so deep asleep it took ages for me to get to the door.

Lily finished work at 12 and when she got home and changed, off we went to China Town. We went to Sake Sushi for their all you can eat special and munched loads of sushi then hit the shops. I managed to get a few more Christmas presents, but the main one I was looking for was a Secret Santa gift for work. I do not know the person whose name I drew at all. This makes it very hard to choose a gift. We are also limited to R100 and there are not a lot of goodies available for that price. So any suggestions by other boy geeks are welcome!

We left there and headed home where we had to jump straight into the shower to get ready for the Stevie Wonder tribute show. Luckily sushi digests quickly so we stopped by Col’Cacchio for pizza before the show and then off we went to the convention centre.

The only reason we attended the show was because one of Mr K’s work contacts asked us to buy some tickets to support his children’s school but I am so glad we went. The main guy did a brilliant Stevie Wonder impersonation, singing most of the favourites. There were 3 women doing back up who also took their turn performing various songs, everything from Aretha’s 'R-E-S-P-E-C-T’ to Beyonce.

The only part I did not enjoy was the comedian who they kept saying was ‘the funniest man in Cape Town’.

He isn’t, especially if you do not speak Afrikaans or are unfamiliar with some of the local slang words. Unfortunately for us, he came on twice. The rest of the audience were roaring with laughter. We just sat there looking confused.

The only other blight on the evening was the annoying fuckwit sitting behind us. He came in and made a show of introducing himself to all of the people on his row. Then he sang in full voice with every single song. I wanted to stab him in his vocal chords but I couldn’t find a pen. I contemplated a quick garroting with the strap on my handbag but felt it might be frowned upon.

When it was intermission he stood up with his back to our row so that his jacket kept brushing over Lily’s head. I kept glaring at him but he was oblivious. He then decided to take off his coat and sit on the back of Lily’s seat. Yes, you heard me right, he actually sat on the back of her seat in the theatre, so that if she turned her face she had a face full of old man ass. I then started to shake with frustration and mutter in a Tourrette Syndrome type way about people being oblivious to other people’s personal space.

Mr K realized I was about to explode cos no one messes with Momma Bear’s cubs so he tapped the guy on his shoulder and said, ‘please get off of her seat.’ He turned around and looked at Lily like she had just been flown in and dropped by a helicopter while he wasn’t looking. I said ‘your arse is in her face!’ and he then got up and shuffled off.

I thought, well in for a penny in for a pound and then started saying loudly I hoped whoever is singing in that loud off key voice would now shut the fuck up so we could hear the actual people we paid to hear. He didn’t let a peep next half. Haha.

In the 2^nd half they had an opera singer who did a faultless rendition of ‘Nessun Dorma’ which brought tears to my eyes. But I am a bit of an opera freak and nothing can move me like a beautifully sung aria.

On Sunday we had planned to meet friends for lunch, but some couldn’t attend so it was cancelled.

As it had turned out to be an incredibly hot day I was happy enough to sleep late, then lie by the pool all afternoon. I read and swam and relaxed all day. Mr K even offered to cook for us! Score.

I invited my friend Mandi to dinner as we haven’t seen each other in a month. We sat outside until the sun went down, drinking wine and chatting, until Mr K called us to eat.

He had made a fabulous dinner. There was a fresh colourful salad to start, then ostrich fillet, Potato Lyonnais, asparagus and rocket for mains. For dessert he made bread and butter pudding, but as I hate raisins he used dried fruit and it was so nice! I am such a lucky girl.

I have to say on a score out of ten this weekend was top of the charts!

Cacophony of Chaos

It is true what they say about time moving quicker the older you get. I cannot believe that it is December already. However I am glad it means the end of Movember as very few men can successfully carry off facial hair. Porn stars and Village People. If you are neither of these…just don’t. Unless it is a soul patch, they make me go weak at the knees for some reason known only to my libido.

My body however is very aware that it is almost holiday time. I am exhausted! My energy levels are low; I am irritable and easily annoyed. Umm actually those last 2 always apply so let’s just wrap it up as I’m tired.

I’ve had a stress-filled week which probably does not help. Mr K had been away and I had been driving my car instead of car pooling with him and I had noticed my clutch was feeling a bit ‘odd’ and I was struggling with gear changes which normally just glide into place. I had even had a brief brake fail while scooting down to the city via Kloof Nek. Luckily I managed to steer it to the curb rather than into the back of the stupid woman who randomly slammed on brakes.

Anyway, on Monday I got into my car and it emitted a squeal like a tortured pig. I looked in my rear view mirror and smoke was billowing out. We decided it was best to not drive it, went to the garage (not sure why we didn’t just ring them) and asked them to come up to collect the car rather. They said it was just the clutch and it would be OK to drive to the garage, so off they went.

Then the next morning, we get in Mr K’s car and head off to work. Sometime in the middle of the night the main road had collapsed into a sink hole. It was a hole the size of a car, so they had closed one lane and had a stop/go system which seemed more stop than go.

We sit through all of that, then he realises he is out of petrol. There are no garages on our way to town, so I always make sure I have petrol before the morning. If I see I am low, I stop on the way home to avoid having to go out of my way.

Obviously, he doesn’t.

So off we trudge to the petrol station. And they can’t get the petrol cap off. Several men try, but it is not budging. Off we go to the garage where my car is being repaired on the other side of Hout Bay. They can’t open it either and every attempt to get through to the Opel dealer resulted in a hang up. He finally gets someone on the phone and they were unable to help. So off we go BACK home again to get the handbook for his car. By now I am ready to kill him. What use is a car handbook at HOME??

By this time the road has been closed to traffic and we have to drive round the other side of Hout Bay to get to our house. It took ages. We get up to the roadblock to find that the traffic cop is sitting in her fecking car in the shade while chaos reigns. We pull out to turn into the closed section of the road as it is the only way to our house. When we entered the intersection there was a car trying to turn over another car, one coming from the closed section and a bike all in the same square of road while this stupid wench sits in the car, not giving a shit or making any attempt to do her job.

We finally get home and he googles it and manages to find where the override for the petrol lock is and sort it out, then we have to fight back through all of this traffic and make it to a petrol station while sitting on empty. By now the lateness, the traffic and my annoyance levels at the cacophony of chaos which has led to a cluster fuck of a morning. Anything which could go wrong had.

Then I finally get to work at 11am and get a call from the garage to say they have taken apart the car and I need a new gear box. FML. It was estimated at 15k rand for the service and repairs. Luckily when I picked it up yesterday it was just under 13k which is still high – but better than what I was expecting.

I guess I should be happy that the universe is once again looking after me, (despite my grumpiness) as the money from our settlement of the lawsuit was deposited this week so I can pay for the car.

I do know that if I let go and trust, I will be given what I need in life. However, letting go of control is not easy for me. It does not come naturally.

I am trying to focus on a fun weekend. Tonight I think we might hit the LookOut Deck for some live music. Now that my design class is finished I get to have a wee bit of a lie in tomorrow. Then when Lily gets home from work we are going to have lunch at the all-you-can-eat sushi place in Chinatown and do a wee bit of shopping for a few more Christmas pressies.

Saturday night we are booked to go to this tribute night for Stevie Wonder by local artists.

We are supporting a friend who is fund-raising for his child’s school by buying a few tickets.

Sunday we have a lunch planned with friends at the Hout Bay Harbour Market – it’s a lovely venue if you have never been there, you must give it a try. I can personally recommend the strawberry daiquiris J

The past is not always passed

Today I am very proud of my baby girl Lily. My baby girl is turning 21 in a few months – but she will always be my baby girl J

She is studying event management at CPUT and as part of her 1^st year she had to put on an actual event. The class was put into groups and they had no input into choosing who was in their groups. Unlucky for Lily this resulted in her being in a group with a bunch of lazy eejits. They had 60 tickets to sale and Lily sold 26 of those tickets and could have sold more if those eejits had brought in their unsold tickets but they couldn’t even be bothered to do that. They had to get 12 auction items, Lily (with my assistance in some regards) got 11 of these, she also got all of the items in the raffle. She did most of the bookings and organisation. So basically it was Lily’s event in actuality. Lily even got the auctioneer to come for free as he is a friend of mine and Mr Kitten’s.

Last night was the event. I was stressing on her behalf that everything worked out OK, even though it was not my event I wanted her to succeed. The thing that stressed me out the most was the knowledge I had to see my ex-husband. I had not been in the same room with him for years. Now that the girls live with me I do not even have to speak to him on the phone.

The girls keep saying they can’t understand why I cannot just let bygones be bygones. But this is because they have no idea of the things he did to me. I do not want them to know, I do not want to turn them against their father. He is their Dad no matter how he behaved as a husband. I wanted to say to her, what if you were mugged at gunpoint, would you be happy inviting your mugger into your home and being hospitable to him? No, I suspect that like me, when you saw his face you would panic. Holding a gun to my head was only one of the things he did to me. He would choke me to unconsciousness. Once it was so serious that he phoned 911 to get LAPD to come out, telling them he had killed me. When the cops came screaming up in the squad cars to find me walking around the garden in my pajamas it didn’t endear him to them. We had phoned them before when he had beaten me so maybe they were immune to it all, they were the ones who took the gun off of him when he threatened to shoot me in the head. After we moved to South Africa and had eventually split up he would break into my home in the middle of the night and I would wake up to him standing over me, watching me sleep.

I thought I had my emotions sorted out to give me the strength me to encounter him at the event, but then while I was in the shower Cait pops in and shouts, ‘just wanted to let you know that Dad is coming here to get dressed for the event’ and skipped out leaving me hyperventilating in the shower. I am not exaggerating, I could feel my blood pressure instantly shoot up, my heart started pounding and I immediately felt like I could be sick.

After I got out of the shower I went and said to her that she had no right to invite him to my house without discussing it with me first. She said it was too late to tell him not to come as he was on his way. I told her he could stay outside in the granny flat to get ready, I did not want to deal with him. I did not want him in my house, his energy or his face in my space. (That sounds a bit like a Dr Seuss rhyme...I do not want him in my house, I do not want him near my mouse, I do not want him in my space I do not want him in my face lol)

I heard his car arrive and heard him get out of the car and come to the gate, I shouted across the house to Cait to keep him outside. He obviously heard this as he stopped out front and Cait ran out to meet him. He changed and then sat at my outside garden table while Cait got dressed. I did the cowardly move of asking my lift to meet me out front and I scooted out the garage to the road, thereby delaying the inevitable meeting.

I knew I would have to see him, but I wanted it to be on neutral territory. When we did finally meet up, he actually leaned in to try and kiss me. I nearly projectile vomited in his face. If I hadn’t worried about messing up my frock I might have given it is a try.

My friends had never seen him, and they spent the event making jokes about his giant tash (not just there for Movember, it is year round).  He looked like a walrus and the motorcycle cop from the Village People had a fat little baby.

But now it is all over. I survived it. I didn’t freak out or embarrass Lily. I guess I am stronger than I think. I will comfort myself with the fact that now he may know where I live, but he also knows I have a lovely,  home with a stunning view and that gives me a tiny bit of satisfaction because I have seen how he lives…...and I thank the Universe that I have a wonderful man like Mr Kitten and a happy home.

Crazed Kitten

Things are so busy at the moment. Or maybe it just seems that way without Mr K here to help me with things. I take him for granted sometimes and only realize just how much I depend on him when he is not here.

He is away for 3 weeks, 21 days…but who is counting? Me that’s who!

The one good thing about his going is that I refused to put up with his friend ‘J’ while Mr K was not even here and so J has moved off to a B&B. His last night in our home was also Mr K’s last night before his trip and his friend was so obtuse he couldn’t even catch a clue that I wanted some alone time with my hubby before he left. He stuck to Mr K like a feckin limpet until I threw a bit of a wobbly and then he finally went off to bed. (He sleeps in a garden flat so we cannot put the alarm on or go to bed until he does.)

But on his way out he made sure he grabbed the last cold cider out the fridge, he didn’t dispose of any of the 7 bottles he had already drank (which I bought) or restock the fridge for the next person. OMG he annoys me.

Before he went outside he mentioned that he had a date on Sunday! I had gotten wind that he had spent the entire Halloween party asking out my friends. WTF dude?! You are married! So when he told me he had a date on Sunday I asked if his wife knew? He said ‘it is all in innocence nothing to hide.’ So I asked again – does she know? I quickly realized no, she hadn’t a clue.

I am not a jealous person – Mr K travels a lot and has a lot of female colleagues. If I was jealous it would make me crazy wondering what he is up to. But I trust him. However if I heard that he had been in a social environment while overseas and had spent the whole time chatting up women and asking them out for dates, I would snip off his bollocks with my nail scissors.

The really dull ones.

Needless to say I told my friend that J was married and that was the end of his ‘date’. The annoying little feckwit of a scumbag.

What else is going on….oh yes I won a month long design course by retweeting and I asked R to join me. We were not happy about getting up so early on a Saturday as it starts at 9 but once we got there and got into it I was very happy I did. It is 4 half day sessions and the project I have chosen is my kitchen and scullery. It is serviceable but very unattractive and bland. At some stage I want to gut it and redo it. Tonight we have to make mood boards for our project.

But any remodeling will have to wait as Mr K has been told the company that funds his NGO is in a bit of difficulty and may close. It now appears his NGO will be able to carry on solo but it is still a huge level of stress until it is confirmed he will have a job. I have 3 weeks leave booked in Dec-Jan and as a contractor I do not get paid, so if he is out of work I can’t take off or we will have no money coming in.

The girls are in the middle of exams and are highly stressed, Lily has an event which she is putting on for her end of year project, we have another houseguest coming next week and we have tickets for Janet Jackson. I’m also hosting book club, so this month is just chock full of chaos.

But I am blessed to have such a wonderful husband, a fabulous family and friends and a job. Everything else will just have to work itself out.

He said, She said

The last couple of weeks has felt a bit like I am living in one of those jokes with ‘His Story’ and ‘Her Story’ where the 2 people experienced exactly the same things but interpreted it completely different.

I can understand Mr K defending his friend when all of the women in the house are annoyed by him. But when I mentioned that our visitor ‘J’ was ‘taking advantage’ Mr K blew up and started saying this wasn’t true.

This is when we realized that our memories of the previous week were completely misaligned.

His story:

The night we went for a group dinner at the Lookout, ‘J’ didn’t pay for his dinner, but he then paid for the next meal. Every other time ‘J’ has paid his own way, he put in petrol, he bought a crate of beer.

Her story:

The night we went for a group dinner at the Lookout, ‘J’ didn’t pay for his dinner, I did. (full stop) The next time we went out was the following morning when we went for a coffee and ‘J’ treated us to a coffee. The next time we went out for a full dinner, ‘J’ was short and paid half his bill, Mr K even said ‘ok well you owe Lisa x’ but that was the last I heard of that debt.

Despite us taking ‘J’ on sightseeing trips all over Cape Town from Simon’s Town to Hermanus I have NEVER seen him offer petrol money.

Every night ‘J’ drinks at least 6 or 7 beers, so I hope this ‘crate’ of beer is a magical one, never depleting or ‘J’ is now sucking down our booze supply every night.

When we had our Halloween party 'J' did spend some money - he bought a crap load of some of the stinkiest, smelliest, retch making cheeses in the universe which makes me ill every time I go near my fridge.

End story.

I know they say we are blind to the things we do not want to see, but come on!? How could we be so divergent in our understanding of the events under our noses?

What makes me sad is that Mr K goes away on Friday for a month. He is travelling for work and attending conferences and visiting his Mom.

We’ve had hardly any time together in the last few weeks and when we have it has been tense and strained.

I hope he comes back.

Kings & Monsters

What a mad chaotic week this has been. We still have our visitor ‘J’ so Mr K is spending most days driving him round here there and everywhere. (which reminds me I missed out an item in my good houseguest list – here is item 11 – 'Rent a Car so you are independent')

My son’s partner flew off to work on Tuesday (she works on oil rigs and yes she is a girl :D). My son was going to come down to visit us, but then he heard through the grapevine (i.e. his sisters) that his room was occupied, so he decided not to come. I see him so seldom as he works such long hours and I was rather disappointed, but he came down last night so at least I did get to spend a little bit of time with him, but the room being occupied just added another reason for ‘J’ to annoy me.

We were trying to organize a route plan to and from the Kings of Leon concert which would mean less walking for me and my dodgy hip and not having to wait forever for a bus. We decided to go in via drop and ride shuttle and then have ‘J’ leave the car in Mouille Point and we could walk to it. So J dropped us at the shuttle and off we went. It was efficient and organized, no queues, we walked straight into the stadium, no hassles no missions.

We had to split up on arrival as Trevor and Lily had standing tickets and Cait, MrK & I were seated. We sat munching pizza and watching the opening acts. I enjoyed all of them except the last band, possibly because they were singing in Afrikaans and I hadn’t a clue what they were saying. I really loved the BLack Hotels.

I was amazed at the amount of young girls running around nearly naked. I was in a sweater and a rain jacket and was bloody freezing! They must have been fuelled with booze heat.

A group of women arrived just before the Kings came on, already a bit wobbly on their feet and each had 2 pints which they began to suck down as if they had been stranded in a desert. When I was a teenager a concert was seen as the chance to get absolutely wrecked – not sure why but we thought that way but we did. Now that I am old and wizened (yes I deliberately chose that word rather than wise cause it makes me lol) I realize that you will not remember the concert or enjoy it near as much if you are off your face. Add queuing for the loo constantly and I just don't see the point.

The ladies next to us were busy snogging the face off of each other and just proceeded to get more and more wobbly on their feet, returning every few minutes with piles of pints again and again. Inevitably one of them threw her beer – it went flying up on the ‘yeahhhh’ of ‘Sex on Fire’ and came down to soak the 2 wee girls in front of us who were there with their parents.

Their Mom had seen this (and probably got a bit wet herself) and calmly tried to remove the partially filled cup from the drunk lesbian’s hand, then drunk lesbian grabbed it back, SuperMom told drunk lesbian what had happened and so drunk lesbian stood up and started to pour the remainder of her beer over the girl’s heads. SuperMom was not having any of that and then threw it back in drunk lesbian’s face. Then all of drunk lesbian’s friends started just wandering off. One was so drunk she climbed up over the seats to get out when she was only 3 seats away from the aisle. It took 2 men to pull her up one row so fuck knows how she got all the way out, much less home.

So now we are down to the single militant drunken lesbian who turned to my daughter and kept getting right in her face to ask ‘did I throw beer on those kids’? over and over as only a drunk can do. Cait told her to just sit down and shut up which she did. I wonder if any of them remember the concert or if they even managed to find their way home.

The concert ended and we made our way out. We had not made proper meet up plans for Trev and Lily so were trying to communicate via BBM as the noise was unbearable on a phone.

We kept trying to talk them to where we were but I suspect they had been at the beers and were not capable of following orders, so after standing for 5 hours they then managed to walk all the way down the main road, ending up god knows where. They then told us they were back at the bus – so we told them just to get on it and we’d pick them up in Hout Bay.

We got home by midnight but of course we all piled up on my bed, dissecting the concert and our night so only got to sleep after 1.

Tonight I am getting a mani pedi, then Friday we have to put together our party play list. Saturday morning I am having my hair done, hopefully like this:

And then Saturday is the Halloween party. I am so looking forward to it, let’s hope it is a hit.

Sunday I hope to be functional enough to go on the Zombie Walk in town, but I don't want to be too ambitious. Whatever you are doing, I hope you enjoy your weekend too.

House Rules

This blog is my place to vent, my place to analyse my emotions and the only little place which is mine. All mine. So anyone who doesn’t want to know what is in my head should look away now. This means you Mr. Kitten. Because Mr. Kitten if you are reading this I suggest you stop, if you do continue I suspect that we will only fall out.

We currently have a house-guest, who I will call ‘J’. He is a friend of Mr. Kitten from way back. He has known him longer than I have. I only heard he was coming shortly before he arrived and only found out the duration of his stay AFTER he arrived. I know that we live far away from our European friends, and I know that most of the cost of the holiday is in the flight, especially when we provide free accommodation. This means that most people think that since they come ‘all this way’ they should stay as long as they can.

In light of this I have a few guidelines for being a welcome houseguest, these are nothing extreme and the same things I do when I am a houseguest.

1.       Go with when the family does their weekly shop and contribute if you are not in position to pay for a full week.

2.       Take your hosts out for dinner at least once.

3.       As your host is more than likely driving you all over SA, offer to put in for at least one tank of petrol.

4.       If your hosts are driving YOU somewhere on a tourist jaunt, and you go through a toll – pay the effing toll! After all this trip is for your benefit.

5.       If you drink endless cups of tea, rinse and use the same cup.

6.       If you can’t be arsed to adhere to item 5 above, then at least take the dirty cups to the sink and give them a rinse. (we do not have a dishwasher)

7.       Do the dishes if you are home alone and everyone is out at work (again, I have no dishwasher)

8.       If you go out with your hosts for dinner, pay your share. I didn’t adopt you, I didn’t give birth to you and I am not your sugarmama. Deal with it.

9.       If you have a tendency towards alcoholism, go to the bottle store and buy your own booze.

10.   And last and foremost, do not slag off the accommodation you have been given for FREE!

If you do not know me personally you have probably made a judgment that I am not very hospitable or welcoming, but those who do know me know that I am not like that. In the UK my friends always called me  ‘the hostest with the mostest’ and my parties were notorious for lasting several days.

Those close to me know I may not be very domesticated.  My friends laugh that if they want to find anything in my kitchen they either ask my domestic or my husband because I will not have a clue! Suffice it to say I will not hop out of bed to make you a big fry up because you decided to crash on my couch after a dinner party. But if you do decide on an impromptu sleep over I will be happy to send Mr K to the shops to buy us all a box of donuts and croissants. (Just make sure to put your cup in the sink)

Blame it On the Moon

This morning I read a blog which got me thinking about something my daughter C. asked me last night. She asked me whether with all of the bi-polar members in our family, do I ever feel like maybe I am bi-polar? (Can a person ‘be’ bi-polar, or do you ‘suffer from’ bi-polar?) Either way you know what I mean so let’s move on.

My daughter probably has reason for concern, he father suffers badly from depression, I didn’t realize that was what I was dealing with when we were married but that is what it is. If he doesn’t take his meds he can barely get out of bed. I could barely get him IN bed but that is a different show Jerry. *wink*

C. has been unfortunate in that every genetic ‘defect’ in our bloodlines has manifested in her. I can understand her always analyzing her emotions to identify whether they are just ‘normal’ emotions or whether she is off the chart of ‘normality’. She has always been a volatile child. She is just wired that way – personally I do not think she is bipolar.

If I have to come up with a label, it is ‘passionate’. And that she definitely inherits from me. My first reaction to most new things is usually out of proportion to the incident – I tend to get in early with my attack rather than wait and try defense. I know this is a legacy from my 1st marriage – throughout that marriage I was a victim. (I hate that word but nothing else fits) I only reacted to the volatility that was swirling around me. I did not dare to stick my head above the parapet and state my feelings or viewpoints; it may have led to a punch or a heated attack. So I was conditioned into withdrawing into my shell, keeping all of my emotions under wraps.

Perhaps that is why now I really struggle to do that – if I am upset I have to voice it to the person who has upset me. I cannot just swallow it all down and carry on regardless. Unsaid words are like poison seeping into my bloodstream.

Today is a perfect example. Every year our family has a huge Halloween party. It is planned for months in advance, we spend a lot of money and we make a lot of effort. Maybe it is my American blood, maybe it is my ancestor’s witchery coming through, but Halloween is my favorite holiday. There is something about people dressing up in fancy dress which loosens people’s inhibitions and can make for a very festive party.

Anyway, my party has been planned for months. I had told my key group of girls the date months ago. So I was very surprised when they all come back to say they are busy when I post the event invites. They are all invited to another party. I know they have the right to go to whatever takes their fancy, but to me if a good friend invites you to something you go. Period. Even if something ‘better’ comes along.

Maybe that is where I am going wrong, I expect too much, or I am too sensitive. But I treat people the way I want to be treated, I hate to disappoint people. And maybe even that is a bit narcissistic, maybe they wouldn’t even mind whether I show up or not?

I’ve just received my astrology email for the month and it says: ‘Over the next couple days, your emotions will be so up and down, you'll feel like you've jumped on a cosmic see-saw. Don't fret too much though ... it'll all end on a high note!’

So for today, I’ll blame it on the moon.

 

That explains the headaches

Today has not turned out anything like I planned it. I had an appointment with the dental hygienist this morning before work. The dentist really freaks me out. When I was 5 I had a dentist bitch-slap me across the face, then when I was living in LA I had a dental nurse physically jump on me and lie across my face to hold me down for an injection, nearly suffocating me in the process – that pretty much knocked the final nail in the coffin of that phobia. Or is it the other way round, it ripped the nails out?

But I kept reasoning with myself that it was just a cleaning and how bad could it be? Well it started with her telling me I am her only American client who doesn’t floss. I floss OK?! Just not that often lol.
She then chiseled and chopped and sandblasted her way round my mouth, then set me on my way. My GP is in the same complex and I needed to get some forms filled in for my life insurance and my doc had been nagging for a cholesterol check for months, so as I had not eaten I thought I would pop in quick and get these things sorted.

I went into the pathology office first and explained to them that I needed blood work for my insurance company as well as the GP and the receptionist said I needed a form from the GP so off I go to that office, explain it all to them and then they have me wait. They then get another form from the GP and send me off back to the pathology office. I get taken in and tell them I have rubbish veins and she manages after a few attempts to get a vein. I noticed she only took one vial but I didn’t ask any questions.

I then go back to the waiting room and she says, ‘oh no are you supposed to get blood work done for that?’ ‘Errr yes as I spent ages explaining to you, yes.’ She said, ‘well you should have said, now you have to get stuck again’. Well I then said to them, “I explained all of this to your receptionist, do you not speak to each other before you go poking needles in people?”

Then the practice nurse comes in, calls my name and then starts slamming around the room in a huff expecting me to follow. I just stood still and asked what is up? She then flounced off and got the scales and said, you don’t mind weighing in here do you? Let me think, do I want all of reception to know how much I weigh? Hell No! Regardless she then threw the scales on the floor and I obediently hopped on. She then said out loudly and clearly what my weight was. Then she trots off to another room and tells me to follow her, I walked in but there was a patient on the bed! She had me come in and stand against the wall to get my height done. I felt embarrassed for the man lying on the bed, as well as myself.

She was giving me so much attitude and at this point I was being calm. Then she scribbled the info on my form and just walked off. I went back to reception in the surgery and asked what I needed to do next. The receptionist asked what happened to the nurse and said she needed to take my blood pressure and I said fine, she then went looking for the stroppy nurse again who was huffing round the room as if someone had taken a poop in her cornflakes, no idea what her issue was. I told the receptionist I would rather not deal with the nurse, she asked why and I said she was rude and acted as if I was an inconvenience when in fact I am a patient and pay for them to provide me with a service. By the time I finished telling her this I had worked myself into such a state I had the whole waiting room staring at me like I had 2 heads.

As you can imagine this was probably not the best time to get my blood pressure taken.

It was 170/100 which is very very high. The receptionist then said the nurse had to take it as she didn’t think that could be right?! The nurse took me off to another room, lay me down and took it again. It was the same. She said “are you feeling stressed” at which I thought my head might explode. I told her that the chaos in the office and the attitude of the staff had stressed me. She said I was not allowed to drive with such high BP. I told her I was going to work, she said I wasn’t I had to see the doctor. I knew the doctor was out on a house call so I thought I would be waiting ages. But he happened to come back as I sat down and they squeezed me in. I told him what had happened and he looked ready to weep – he asked me please to put it all in writing which led me to think he has had issues with her before.

He kept me there for almost an hour, lying down. He kept taking my BP every few minutes until it dropped sufficiently for me to go home. He then nagged about my not getting my hip down as my meds are known to cause high blood pressure. I made an appointment to go back in a week for him to check it again as he said he cannot send in the forms with that BP on it or they will increase my fees ridiculously.

Feck. I did suspect my BP was up as I have had some lightheadedness and some moments where I can feel my BP pumping when I am stressed. But I hope it goes back down before next week I really do not want to go on long term meds......deep breathing and relaxation is on my agenda this week. Maybe now I am officially old I am just falling apart? I'll just start dropping off bits of me like a leper? Let's hope my saddlebags go first.

A Change in Perspective

I was chatting with a friend who was saying that whenever he gets stressed, he asks himself, 'How Important Is It'? I know that I have a tendency towards hysteria. It is genetic, my Mom is a hysteric, her Mom was a hysteric...you get the idea. My daughters appear to have the same affliction unfortunately.

So I am trying to change my reactions to life in small subtle ways. Like asking myself is it really that important when I get wound up and taking a step back if it isn't. Sometimes making a big deal out of something minor just ends up taking it in a way it would not have naturally gone if we had just let the universe direct it at will.

I also know that I get back what I put out in the world, If I go through life being grumpy and miserable then I will get negativity back. If I greet the world with a smile and a friendly demeanour then the world will respond in the same way. If I am loving to Mr Kitten, I receive this back tenfold.

I see what power I can wield with my emotions, I see this with the way my daughter can create such animosity and chaos in our home just by her moods. She is my mini-me mirror who is helping me to grow myself into what I want to be.

I had a weekend of such relaxation and fun, and last night I had one of my moments of pure bliss. I do not think that people can understand how I feel unless they have walked in my shoes. Most women marry, have kids, raise those kids and then the kids move out. My life was not meant to follow that path. I think I have finally gotten to a place where I no longer beat myself up about my fuck ups in my past.

I am not saying I didn't fuck up - I did. In an extraordinary fashion. But the path my life took is the path the universe and my ancestors intended for me. It took me through a hell of a lot of pain and despair and unhappiness to get here. But that pain was due to being away from my children, and my children turned out so strong and so healthy and fabulous regardless, so any guilt or bad feelings I have towards myself are so unnecessary, they just drag me down.

The universe has given me a chance now to build a strong relationship with my girls, they both live with me full time and I am so grateful about this. Even if they wake me in the middle of the night coming in, if they are grumpy and moody, it doesn't matter. I am living the life I always dreamed of with my daughters living with me, happy with a wonderful husband, a lovely home and a job that supports it all.

Another of my new methods to increase my gratitude is to picture my life without the very thing which I take for granted or which annoys me. So I spent a weekend doing this - the trigger might be getting annoyed at my husband leaving his towel on the floor. But then I think 'would I rather have his towel on my floor, or have him not be in my life?' It puts the small insignificant things in perspective - he is so good to me and my girls.

When I got incredibly annoyed about having to do a weekend's worth of dishes on Sunday morning, I changed my thought pattern to 'these dishes are from my husband cooking a delicious meal for me and the girls on Friday' and I happily washed them. OK maybe not happily....but less grumpily. I didn't turn into Mother Bloody Theresa, there were no genies or lamps. It was still just Miss Kitten doing the dishes.

But I think back to Friday night, the end of a busy week, when Mr Kitten went and did the shopping, came home, cooked us all an amazing dinner, then the girls cleared up, dancing round the kitchen, singing about Mr Kitten being the best step-father in the world, and us all laughing and my heart is near to bursting with happiness.

After all, that is all that matters.

Blessings in abundance

This weekend I turned 50. Ouch. It is one of those cut off ages. I am now officially over the barrier and properly old.
Fuck.
My aching body attests to this. Today I am just so knackered and sore it hurts to get off of the settee.
But it all started so well.....
Friday when I arrived at work I received an email saying that my daughters and I were formally invited to dine at our home with Chef Norman in attendance.
I arrived home and was ushered through to the lounge and told in no uncertain terms to stay out of the kitchen. The girls and I sat watching 'So You Think You Can Dance'. Then Norm brought us a still warm meringue! Oh my god since when did my husband learn how to cook such a moist chewy meringue - or any sort of meringue for that matter?
When we met he could make toast and that was it.
He then proceeded to spend the evening spoiling us - first with a starter of steamed asparagus, wrapped in proscuitto and stuffed with mozzarella cheese inside the ham. It was drizzled with some slightly sweet but acidic sauce, it was just divine. My fave things all wrapped up in one.
For mains we had 'Italian Chicken' which was chicken in a casserole with mushrooms, in a white wine sauce, on a bed of mashed potato topped with steamed tenderstem broccoli.
For dessert he brought out a creme brullee which is my favourite dessert. It was made with white chocolate lindt and was one of the best things I have ever eaten. He just followed the recipe and he did a brilliant job.
I wish I had one now lol. And the meringues are what he did with the leftover egg whites after he made the brullee!

I felt he had surpassed my expectations and thought the next day might just be presents and a family lunch. Josh came down to visit Lily for the weekend and I thougth we would all just go for dinner.

However I was informed I had an agenda. I had to get dressed to go to the waterfront for shopping - he wanted to buy me a dress 'for that evening as I needed to look nice' when we went for dinner. We lucked out and found 2 at Edgars which looked great and bought them both. One of them is 2 sizes smaller than I normally buy, the other is 1 down. That made me pleased as punch.
In high spirits we then went onto Balducci's for lunch. We grabbed a table outside and I ordered some sushi.

We had a lovely lunch and a glass of wine then did a bit more shopping and headed home. I had a little nap then showered and headed out. We arrived at the venue where I assumed we were just joining our usual group of about 5 couples for dinner, but when I walked in the whole room sort of stood up in one long mexican wave type pattern...it was a bit overwhelming! I started tearing up and got a bit freaked out as I had not expected that at alll! The girls had put together a slide show of pics of me from childhood up to now, it was brilliantly done. I just felt so loved and so overwhelmed by it all.

I was given some gorgeous and brilliant presents but I opened them when we got home and I was rather tipsy and I kept thanking the wrong people for the wrong presents! Oops so embarrassing. But hopefully I have been forgiven :)

I went to a women's event I really like this week called Extraordinary Women and it is always loads of women giving talks about how they became who they are and it is very inspirational. Everyone was asking 'Are you where you want to be' for example. I reaalised yes I am. I have the life I have been visialising for decades - living with my kids having a normal life. I have a man who adores me and will do anything for me, I have my girls here at uni so with me for a few years and we are such good friends and so close. It is brilliant.
My son is settled with a woman he loves whom the family also love. She fits right in with us. They've bought a house and are happy.
I have amazing friends. And a beautiful home. If I wanted anything else I would just be greedy. I am so blessed and so grateful for those blessings.

Livin the life

Last night was another one of those nights that makes me feel so blessed to live in Cape Town and especially the Bay of Hout.

It was my friend Dawn's 40th birthday and she was determined not to celebrate it, she was in mourning for the loss of her 30s. She is a stunning woman who looks about 30 but she was getting hung up on that number. We tried to get her to organise something to celebrate but she was not having it. Her husband Gavin spoils her and took it upon himself to organise a drinks evening as a surprise.

One of our friends dragged her there on a pretense of some women's event which she didn't really want to attend, but Gav kept telling her she couldn't cancel on her friend.

She arrived at the venue and we all jumped out in the dark and surprised her. Then we were all piled into 2 vans and driven down this teeny little winding road to the actual beach. We entered what looked like a wooden chalet and were greeted by a room which looked like a cosy lounge in someones tastefully furnished home. There was a roaring fire and all of the windows were open to let in the sea air. We were in the beautiful hotel Tintswalo Atlantic which hangs off the side of Chapman's Peak.

Each room has a view of the entire bay, the decor is just stunning and the service was perfect. Every time you got near the bottom of your glass, a waiter magically appeared and topped you up. (and my thumping head is proof of this). They laid on snacks, and these were served by a personal chef who described each thing to us. There were skewers with salmon or fillet, grilled prawns, fish cakes, potato and feta samosas, spring rolls and other nibbles.

After dinner they have a tradition where each guest is given a stone with their name on it and we all had to chuck them over our shoulders out to sea while making a wish. It created much giggling that all of the girls' rocks just clunked onto the stone beach below the balcony, the men liked to pretend they actually made theirs land in the water. (I doubt they did)

We all sat out by the sea drinking and laughing while candles flickered in the trees above us. When it got chilly we were given soft blankets to wrap round us. It was just divine.

I feel so blessed, amazing friends, a wonderful family and this sort of experience right on our doorstep.

Update: As mentioned above we all made a wish, subsequently I saw a shooting star and made the same wish. The wish was related to a court case I have had going for several years...and this morning I got my 1st ever call from our lawyer to say the people we are suing want to settle....and I am covered in goose bumps. Maybe it is true that if you ask for it, the universe will attend to your needs.

Highs & Lows

I'm thinking again and thinking inevitably leads to blogging. Based on the number of blogs I have posted lately that would lead you to think I don't think very often but you would be wrong. I am an obsessive. I mentally go over things all of the time. I am not a drop and run sorta girl.

We had a hectic night on Thursday. My daughter Lily had started back at Uni and she had 4 friends over as they had a free day on Friday. So I thawed out some chili con carne I had in the freezer, and decided I would make some cheese quesadillas, so stopped on the way home for fromage frais, salsa and jalapenos.

The girls arrived about 7 and they proceeded to drink wine, munch on quesadillas and talk nonsense as a group of 20ish year olds are wont to do.

They were sitting on the upstairs balcony so one of the girls could have a smoke, when the Neighbour From Hell, (henceforth known as NFH) shouted over at 9.30 "it was time for bed and they need to keep it down". They shut up in surprise, held their breath and then started to giggle. He then started ranting, 'oh yes time to keep quiet', 'oh you think it is funny, have you forgotten my watering your garden' (referring to the previous incident when he turned the garden hose on us when we were having a braai. He didn't soak us as we were out of his reach. We just laughed.

Lily came to tell Norm bout it all and he went outside and told NFH to stop harassing the girls. He then told Norm he was going to 'sort him out' and came to ring our bell. Norm went to the gate while NFH shouted vulgarities at him. NFH then whipped out an iron rod and proceeded to hit Norm with it, Norm reached through the gate and pushed him away.

I phoned our friend Gav, ADT & the cops. They all arrived quickly, but NFH had ran home and attempted to drive out to the police station once he saw we had called back up.

They all went to the police station and spent until 2.30 in the morning filling in forms, then came home exhausted.

It had all started so nicely.

It was lovely that Lily came to me the next day and apologised for the noise, I told her it was not her fault, he has a bug up his arse. Then she said it was so nice to have the girls have clean bedding, towels, blankets and yummy food. She said it was all so pleasant, she really appreciated my making them all feel comfortable. I couldn't imagine NOT doing this for them!

When Cait came back from staying with her Dad over holidays she said the same, she missed her comfortable bed, big towels, warm room and all her family. The pets, Norm and I are now the family core.

The kids were raised by their Dad and he lived like a pauper. Trust me, he isn't, he just hated to spend money on comforts or food. I wonder did it do the girls more good living frugally then they appreciate the warm cozy home I offer and appreciate it when others grant them with a nicety?

When they were with me for their holidays we went somewhere different in Europe every July, then to Scotland for a family holiday over Xmas and Hogmannay.

Here we never go anywhere away from home, we have all we ever want or need for summer and a cosy home for winter.

Then we have this tosser who wants to interfere. Norm was supposed to be away in JBG all week on business and now has to come and go to court on Tuesday. NFH has also charged Norm with assault, so they both have to appear. It's ridiculous and Norm never left our yard.

But we have taken this man's intimidation for a year, it is time to deal with it properly and get an interdict to stop him doing it any longer.

But in the meantime we will continue living our lives, building a home which my girls love and I love, keeping my marriage strong. These are the things that really matter, this little noise from next door is just a bump in the road.

Moments of Contentment

Lately I have been thinking a lot. That happens when I read a Paulo Coelho book.

I'm currently reading 'Brida' which is about a young witch starting out on her journey to understand her powers and develop her skills. It talks about the bible being the source of all occult which I found interesting. It also has an interesting take on the concept of soul mates - that the original Adam & Eve had split into multiple souls at death who then split into multiple souls and so on. Apparently you recognise these soul mates when you see them. I do believe that part - I've experienced that feeling when you meet someone that you already know them, they are a part of your past lives, or some deep connection. I once had that when I met a man at a party. I looked across the room and saw him and knew he was going to be my lover, we had been souls in another life together previously. I had just sperated from my husband that day. He had been seperated from his wife for a bit longer. Interestingly his wife told me she felt that way about me, that she and I were involved when she was a warrior and I was a female Native American couple many generations ago. It was a crazy relationship between them. Thank God I didn't move back to the States with him.

Anyway, after that all finally ended I met my husband, he was handsome, intelligent, patient and loving. He still is and he still adores me. We are very well suited in that he puts up with my shite. He stays calm while me and my daughters whirl in a hormonal haze of stress and chaos around him. He is perfect for me. But is he my soul mate? I don't know. He is my life mate. The one I will stay with til the end. I still fancy him, still find him attractive. He looks after all of us, he is the traditional male in our house who does all the manly stuff, but he also does his share of cooking. He is a typical mothering Cancerian. As I am not at all maternal this works out great.

I finally feel like I am where I am meant to be. We have our home which we are slowly chipping away at making our dream home, one little bit at a time. We're in no huge rush as this is the place we want to stay. I love our home. And for the 1st time in 20 yrs I have 2 of my children living with me. My 2 gorgeous clever daughters. I feel very blessed that they are both in Uni, studying hard. Hubby and I have such high pressure jobs, we drive in and out to the city centre most days together so have a bit of time to chat. We drive in my the stunning coast road from Hout Bay. I don't mind my job, obviously I don't love it so much I would do it for free but I don't dislike it.

So maybe it is not surprising that I have such moments of contentment that they make me stop and breathe into it- a wonderful husband, family, home, I have been feeling so pleased and happy that it has all come together finally. So many people take it for granted that they have their family together but as I never had that, for me it is a privilege.

It has all brought such deep contentment.

Do you have moments of pure contentment?