The Big Things in Life are Often Inexpensive…

…Yet leave us with a wealth of contentment.

Last week I headed off to the The Mother City to write exams.  My Herbalife-friend, Tina tagged along for the ride.  I was so grateful because she drove most of the way and as a result I had a few extra hours to study.

We stayed in a delightful flat in Mowbray that I found on Airbnb.  Our host, Noel, was absolutely amazing, adding a personal touch by including a small bottle of sparkling wine to the welcome basket in the flat, which we drank on Thursday afternoon after we’d spent the rest of the day at Signal Hill, playing silly buggers and The Company Gardens feeding the pigeons and the squirrels.  A highlight was “The Perfect Cup” which was served at the coffee shop at the latter.

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Other highlights included catching up with my friends, Jakes, and Alijay for quick coffees.  Oh, and I had the best curry of my life the Wednesday night (yes, in Cape Town, not Durban!)

and a smashing Lemon Meringue with “The Perfect Cup”.

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All in all, looking back, I am glad that I didn’t once, set foot in a mall and spend money on stuff that I not only don’t need, but can’t afford – and that will be fleeting pleasures.  These #memories are forever!

 

Aimee’s at It Again…

My blog is a relatively no-holds barred space.  I write about different things, and often from one extreme to the next.  I know that I have different readership, for which I am grateful, but I want to state, again, that I will not tolerate prejudice from those readers who disagree with the content of any of my posts – like the atheists about my religious/faith posts, or the Bible followers that disagree with my view on people like Aimee and her choices.  If you can’t respect that, then I’d rather have you unfollow me.

Thank you.

Now, if you’re still reading:

Read this post first, so that you have the background.

My exams are finally over.  *Happy dance*!  I got back from Cape Town on Friday afternoon, and was surprised to hear that Aimee was in town.  Obviously, we had to get together to catch up on what’s happened since our last visit, a fortnight shy of a year.

Poor woman.  She is totally fucked – in the physical sense of the word, but in the psychological realm too.  She’s not crazy (well, then again, she is in my inner circle, so maybe she is a bit touched), but mind-fucked.

A lot has gone down in the past year, which is the last time I saw her:

Junior got involved with a girl his own age and from what Aims tells me, he seems idyllically happy.  She seems okay about it, telling me that on the odd ocassion he’ll call, just to hear how she’s doing, which she appreciates, although he did tell her the other night that while he was in the shower, he thought to himself that he should phone her.  Hello?!  He’s involved with another chick, yet he thought about Aimee when there was steam surrounding his naked body while hot water was pounding his flesh.  Well, maybe it wasn’t just hot water…   In the back of her mind though, I think she knew even if they had got their groove on, it would have been short-lived.

Mr. Married Willy is also out of the picture.  I say, “Thank God!” even though she is devastated.  While all he initially wanted was the intellectual sex, they decided to meet in person a while ago, but he couldn’t get out of the house, “for fear of making my wife suspicious” and then again recently, but nothing came of it.  I said he got cold feet, she said he got a cold heart, which shriveled his dick and crumbled his spine.  I get her anger, but he is married, although I know better than to bring that up because it’s not what she needs-, nor wants to hear right now.

She tried to be brave when telling me of her disappointment, but I know she’s hurting.  I’m not sure if she was in love him, but she was curious, and with her vivid imagination, I think she had some kind of picture in her head of him getting a divorce, then having rip-roaring, sheet-tearing, chandelier-swinging sex with him, and possibly, some kind of future.  It’s a definite no-go after he made some shitty excuse about not being able to see her.  Snap!  That’s the sound of the little bit of frayed line that held whatever-it-was-they-had together.  I want to phone him and tear a strip off of him, but she’s put a leash on me, so she’s planning her own revenge.  She knows who his wife is, and it’s easy enough to get in touch with her on Facebook.  She has every last text message, and e-mail exchange of the almost two years they’ve been corresponding, and she has no qualms about forwarding them to his unsuspecting wife.  I can only hope she changes her mind because while he deserves to be miserable and alone, his children didn’t ask for this.

There’s no shortage of virile men around Aimee though.  Mr. Freak, now known as Mr. Hot Bunz is still in the picture, which surprises me, especially after her disconnection from the moment the last time and because Friends with Benefits is not her style; being a fuck-buddy, with the right guy is.  For those of you not sure what the difference is:

Friend with Benefits:  Person who is a friend, with whom you enjoy spending time, doing friend-stuff, but it may or may not end up with you doing the horizontal mambo.  When either one is in a relationship, then the benefits are forfeited.

Fuck Buddy: You both fuck each other senseless and then sleep in your respective homes.  There is nothing friend-like about the arrangement.  You’re basically carnal rabbits in a cosmic pheromone-filled warren. Synonym: Booty Call.

So, now that you have the nutshell meanings, Aims is the kind of girl that’ll hook up for the occasional one-night-stand, and if he has her coming like a garden hose, she might even enter into a fuck-buddy arrangement with him, but it will never involve doing ‘relationshippy’ things, like drinks at a fancy bar, walks on the beach or a movie-night, with pizza and wine, nor will it ever involve him/her spending the night.  It will be wanton sex. Nothing more, nothing less.

But it’s different with Mr. Hot Bunz and it’s messing with her head.  He’s become her friend and a confidante.  I’ll chalk the latter off to the fact that I live too far away for her to pop in for a heart-to-heart over a glass of good red.  She hooked up with him the same night Mr. Married Willy stood her up, and it blew her mind, but she feels guilty now.

“Oh. My. God!  Aims, you’re not…”

Yes, she’s in love with him, and she has made the epic mistake of telling him how she feels.  Kudos to him for not getting into his car and riding a million miles in the opposite direction, even more so when she may, or may not have told him in a hazy sleep-awake moment that she loved him, or someone else.  She knows she heard a loud, “What?” from a voice, but she’s not sure if it was his voice, or if she dreamt the whole thing.  If she did say it out loud, I hope it was that she loved him, because she’s already had one strike.  I also hope that if he is an actual knight in shining armour, that he will at least be open to something more, because while Aimee almost never has her shit together, she is a one in a million girl and when she’s in a committed relationship, she’s in it for keeps.  All she needs is a good guy to take a gamble on her.  I know if he does, he will have struck the biggest jackpot imaginable.

To balance things out, Aims finally stopped gushing about herself and Mr. Sexy Ass, just long enough to ask about how things are with my love life.

“Less complicated than yours”, was my response, which is the truth, but some days I wish I had her open mind, smoking hot body and happy-go-lucky (for the most part) attitude towards life and fiery rabbit-love.

I have a feeling too, that another year isn’t going to pass before I give you an update on Aimee’s Escapades, given that she is seeing Mr. Sexy Ass more often now.  So, ‘til next time…adios!

That Peace…

…that Peace that Paul wrote to the Phillipians about…I received it!

Phillipians 4:7 “And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (ESV)

A great deal of things happened this weekend…Roosterkoeks the size of tablets, coffee at Steve’s folks on their farm, a touch of the mysterious at Sulina’s Faerie Sanctuary, an ice-cold something at the Dros in Roberton, a wors-braai on Du Toit’s Kloof Pass, a walk from Three Anchor Bay to Sea Point and back, photos at Signal Hill, a stop at the Lindt shop, a pop in at that Waterfront, rugby in a box at Newlands, watching the lights from Ou Kaapse Weg, a drive over Chapman’s Peak, via Hout Bay and Camp’s Bay, feeding the squirrels and pigeons in the Company Gardens…but that is not what I want to share today… despite all these wonderful memories, one moment, a few fleeting seconds actually, is what I will probably carry closest to my heart for a long while still.

This past Sunday, whilst on a weekend away to Cape Town with Steve and Elizabeth, I experienced a fleeting few moments of that God’s Peace that surpasses all understanding.

On a whim, we jumped in the car at 06:25 to find a good spot to check out the sunrise…knowing that the best sunsets are seen from the southern side of Cape Town, I took the two “tourists” up the scenic Boye’s Drive then into Fishoek where we decided to take a walk on the beach. I was dressed in my skinny jeans and the shirt I’d slept in (we weren’t initially planning to be getting out where people would see us) and no shoes. While Steve and Elizabeth took photos I rolled up my jeans (with no real success) and put my feet in the water. Before I knew it I was thigh deep and after a quick conference with Elizabeth regarding the use of her jersey, I walked right back into the water and it happened…just before I dived under the waves, there was complete silence around me.

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I could have dived under the waves and not resurfaced. It wouldn’t have mattered because…I. was. at. Peace.

I can’t qualify my experience with words, be they spoken or written. All I can say is that in that fleeting five to eight seconds, nothing in my life mattered, except me and my Father in Heaven. He touched me in a supernatural way – I have been teary ever since, but I know that tears bring healing, so I am letting them flow. God is working in me, making changes for the better. So, even as I am not sure what lies ahead, I know that I can walk in faith, because I am filled with peace.

Brain Itch

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Elizabeth invited me to join her, Gabriel and Steve to go and watch a local show, but I am really budget conscious right now, and besides that, God had an appointment with me at church last night.  In actual fact, He’s had appointments with me the entire weekend, but more about that in a minute… Has it ever happened to you that you can listen to a song, regardless of the genre and enjoy it for the piece of magic it is, but out of the blue, that same song will take on an entirely new meaning, and tug at your soul?  If not, then I don’t think you’re normal…

Last night in church we sang “Jesus, Lover of my Soul” and while I’ve sung it countless times, last night I really understood the words.  “You’ve taken me from the miry clay…”  You see, since moving into my own place, things have been hard.  There, I’ve said it.  They’ve been hard.  I haven’t really had disposable income to enjoy the lifestyle I became accustomed to when living with my parents.  Some nights are incredibly lonely.  My friends are around, but for the most part, they don’t really understand just how difficult this transition is for me.  I’ve spent a great deal crying myself to sleep at night, but yet, I have wanted for nothing.  All my needs have been taken care of.  God has kept His promise to supply all my needs according to His Glory in Christ Jesus.  So, as hard as it is, I’m trying to stay focused.  Last night though, when we sang this song, the floodgates opened because Valerie, my colleague, told me that this is a process I have to go through; that God is moulding me for bigger, better things.  He has taken me from the miry clay and He is moulding me into an even more beautiful pearl for His Crown.

I’m reading William Paul Young’s Crossroads and my word, I sometimes feel that the book was written specifically for me.  Sometimes I will read only a small excerpt, but there will be such a powerful message in there that I get goosebumps. I keep telling myself that I must invest in post-it notes so that I can just mark the messages.  I WILL have to make a plan after work today.  

On Saturday I attended an amazing ladies’ tea where the message was about women being the pearls in God’s Crown, and what a timely process it is for a pearl to be formed.  Again, “You’ve taken me from the miry clay…set my feet upon a rock…”  I left that tea feeling… for lack of a more descriptive phrase, specially chosen.  

Not really wanting to go straight to bed after church, I asked Andrea (a friend from Herbalife) if she felt like coffee and within minutes she was at my flat.  We chatted about what happened in the week and I told her about the tea and other happenings.  Normally I wouldn’t really discuss religious/spiritual issues with people whom I am just getting to know, but I feel a strange kinship towards Andrea.  She seems to just “get me”, more than some of my life long friends do.  Her advise was to remember that I am never alone and that nothing ever happens without reason.  Sure, it may not be clear right now, but in hindsight, everything makes sense.

Now, to the title of this post…Brain Itch… for those of you who don’t know what a brain itch is – it is a song that is stuck in your head that no matter how many times you’ve sung the words, you just cannot get it out of your head.  Guess what’s stuck in my head right now?  Your Song by Elton John. I’m not sure why, but I hope it is saved on my netbook so that I can just listen to it to get it out of my head…

Wishing you all an amazing week, filled with blessings, love and hope.

 

 

 

Of All the Things I Never Thought I’d Be…

…Star struck is one of them.  Because, in my mind, I’ve always thought celebrities are people, just like you and me.  Most of them work to earn an income (granted, much for than the regular Joe Bloggs on the street), they need to eat, drink and visit the loo, they need a roof over their heads, and companionship (be it in the form of six kids like Brangelina, or a cute dog, like Carl, the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel owned by South African Celebrity DJ Gareth Cliff.  Love him, or hate him, he is a straight shooter, with strong opinions – something we don’t see much of anymore.  People are too aware of having to be P.C., but not Gareth…he calls a spade a front end loader and takes the consequences in his stride.

Last night Elizabeth, Jesse and I went to a DJ gig Gareth was doing at one of the local hot spots.  Before he started his set, I got him to sign his book, with his trademark “dog drawing” which I bought for myself for Christmas.

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I rushed up to him, pen in hand and asked “Sign my book!”  He extended his hand politely and said, “Sure, what’s your name?”  So I told him.  I was surprised at just how tall he is, because on TV, as an Idols judge, he looks much shorter…but, as Jesse so properly pointed out, “It’s because he’s always sitting down.” And he has the most striking blue eyes.  The book cover doesn’t do him justice.  I wanted to ask if he would take a photo with me, but I thought better, because my legs were shaking like reeds in the wind.

It was awesome, the music was great, the people were dancing and everyone was having a great time, although I will admit, I think I might be getting a bit old to pretend I’m a teenager, even though I have a better body now than I did when I was at school.

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Our trio stuck around until after the witching hour and then we took a drive to McDonald’s, bought coffee and went and sat at the beach.  I can’t remember when last the three of us spent time together.  It was a super night, and hopefully we’ll get the opportunity to spend more time together this year.  The photos aren’t the greatest quality – it was dark and we were all quite tired… for those of you who don’t know, I’m the one in the blue top, and the long boots.

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Wine Tasting in Herold…

It is scary just how quickly time flies, especially at this time of the year.  I have realized, with some dread, that it is a little over six weeks to Christmas!  And, with that said, a little over five weeks until we close for the summer holidays.  Eek!  There is so much still to do.  But, being a little more in control of my internal panic button, I am still taking time out to relax and recharge my batteries, like I did during two weekends in October, with friends, both old and new…

The first was with Elizabeth, Steve (who was no longer in a relationship with Michelle – not sure who broke it off, or why…) and another friend of ours Gerald.  We went wine tasting at Herold Wines, which is about 45 minutes from the town where we live.

We set off on the Saturday afternoon, the pouring rain not dampening our spirits.  We drove in Gerald’s 4 x 4 as we were travelling over the historic Montagu Pass, which is not a tarred road.  It wasn’t really necessary as many day to day cars travel the road, but it was definitely more comfortable.  The 45 minute journey took substantially longer than expected, but only because Elizabeth and I kept screaming “stop”, jumping out and snapping pictures.

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We eventually arrived…

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The range of wines is limited to six, so the tasting went quickly…

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and then we headed off to our digs for the evening, a self-catering cottage on the farm called Flufftail.

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It was quaint, clean and comfortable.  The water was hot, there was a fireplace and best of all…no cell phone reception, so we could really enjoy each other’s company.

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We stayed up quite late, but as is par for the course, Elizabeth was up first, then Gerald and then Steve, and as much as I tried to pretend not to hear the noise, I was up just after five too.

Steve went for a run, and Elizabeth and I decided to take a walk before breakfast.  There is something magical about farm life…

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Returning from our walk, we quickly prepared breakfast, while Gerald and Steve had a serious man-to-man talk at the fence … I love this photo because it looks like they are peeing at the fence, but they aren’t.

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It seems that everywhere we go, someone always ends up with wet feet or shoes…

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But, as with all good things…the visit soon came to an end and we had to head home…taking a few more pics along the way…

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Our journey ended with a quick lunch of leftovers at the beach.

I am so blessed to be able to make memories with the most amazing friends.  Life is good!

I will put up the post about my latest camping trip (the second October outing) either tomorrow or Thursday, so…pop by for another visit!

In the Pursuit of Happiness…I went…well…read it and find out…

First of all, before I continue this post, there are a few things you should know…

1. I don’t camp. If it doesn’t have four solid walls and a roof, I don’t sleep in it. If it’s on wheels, I’m not keen on sleeping in it either.

2. I don’t mind the rain, as longs as I am between four solid walls and a roof.

3. I have a love affair…with my bed. Sure, I sleep in hotels on the odd occasion, but I’m always happy to go home and sleep in my own bed. I have an orthopaedic mattress, you see…

4. Dogs should be taught that barking at night is a disturbance. In fact, I personally think it should be covered by the nuisance by-laws.

5. I like my shoes and socks dry.

6. I love hot, clear running water.

7. I like to be able to get fully dressed after a bath.

8. I am not much of a mariner.

Now that you have a semi-picture of the prima donna I can be, you will enjoy the story that lies ahead. I went camping this past weekend. In a tent. Close to home though, beautiful scenery…

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but still…in a tent. For those of you who are a bit slow on the uptake, a tent doesn’t have four walls and a roof. It is a material structure, which, if not properly erected will either implode on you during your not-so-comfortable-slumber, or simply blow over in a gale.
It’s amazing that whenever I plan something outdoorsy, something will happen. In this case, everything will happen.

Two weeks ago it was my 34th birthday and I decided that in this new life year, I would try everything, retaining the good…so I thought camping would be a good place to start. I sent out invitations to friends asking them to join me this past Saturday for fun, laughter and memory-making in the sun. My invitation was received with quite a substantial amount of enthusiasm and timeous RSVP’s. A good sign…

Saturday arrived somewhat sooner than I’d anticipated, but I got up early and went with my Dad to the campsite. He was going to set up the motorhome for him and Mom and I was going to pitch a tent for Elizabeth and I.

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Steve and his new girlfriend, Michelle joined us later, along with Sarah (another friend from the gym), her boyfriend, David and another mutual friend, Jack. Elizabeth arrived some time later, a little green around the gills with flu, but soldiering on as usual.

Dad was cooking up a pasta storm while we all sat around watching him. He is so incredibly at ease doing the caveman-thing, that none of us wanted to interfere.

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We had wine to focus on.

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Pasta was set aside for us to enjoy after the rugby. The clash of the world’s best…the All Blacks vs the Springboks. We all piled into the cars and headed off to a local haunt to watch the game. Despite all our cheering, the Springboks lost the game, and we pretty much lost our will to live.

Exiting the pub we were greeted by rain… Putting my best game-face on, I drove back to the campsite, thinking that Steve and Michelle were right behind us. Mom was snug under the covers in the motorhome and dad was waiting for us ever so patiently. Sarah, David and Jack decided to have dinner in their tent, but were soon piled into ours as they’d left the flap unzipped and as a result, all their goods and chattels were wet. After about a half hour, Steve and Michelle had still not returned and getting worried, I called. Steve told me they’d got lost. A likely story 😉

Now seven people in a four man tent is not exactly a bright idea, but we had good fun nevertheless. Laughing and joking and regaling tales of our childhood. I took a sip of my wine (which was in a mug because all the glasses were in the now-locked motorhome. I took a big swig and felt something solid go down my throat. I spat the wine out very quickly, but it was already too late. Jiminy Cricket had made is way down my throat. Thankfully he was already disinfected by the alcohol.

The rain had dampened spirits just a touch and soon everyone was ready for bed. Sarah and David decided to rather go home and come back the next morning; Jack did the same (he had to work at six a.m.). Part of me wished I was going home too, but soon the rhythmic pitter-patter of the rain lulled me to sleep. I was quite warm in my fluffy blanket and comforter on my inflatable mattress.

Said mattress did not remain inflated for during the night, so consequently, I had a not-so-comfortable-slumber. But not before first being assaulted by said mattress. Due to the fact that it was deflating, it was somewhat flexible, so every time I tried to turn over, which was often, the stupid thing would wrap around me like a hot dog, or, if I sat up, it would bend at my waist, knocking me on the back of my head, making me wish that it was morning already so that I could hunt down the barking dog that kept waking me up in the first place. I vowed that if that dog emerged I would bark right back at it.

Morning broke very quickly, with Elizabeth waking me up at 05:30 because she needed to go to the loo. Seriously?! “MTM, please come with me. I don’t feel well…” So, being the trusty friend I am, I unzipped the tent only to be confronted by a haze of smoke. Thinking WTF?! I tried to get out the tent only to walk straight into the gauze. That’s right people, I didn’t unzip the door properly. There are two zips. Once the second one was open, the smokiness was gone.

Steve was already up. Given the fact that he has to be at the gym at 5 a.m. every morning, it is understandable that his body-clock couldn’t sleep late. Michelle lay blissfully unaware of everything around her. Poor woman had worked the entire Friday night, and not had any sleep after coming off shift the Saturday.

After trotting off to the loo, Elizabeth and I wanted coffee and found Steve at dad’s magic bucket which warms water, but alas, does not boil it. Desperate for caffeine I asked Steve if he’d go to the gas station and buy us some and he obliged. He’d just finished putting on his shoes when Mom and Dad woke up which meant he didn’t have to anymore and we could make coffee in the motorhome! Parents to the rescue!

Now caffeinated, I was actually ready to face the world. I just couldn’t get warm though. Turns out that my sneakers, fabulous as they are, they are not waterproof, so as long as I kept walking on the wet grass, the water would seep in, wetting my socks, resulting in me staying cold.

After changing socks about five times, I decided that the only way to get warm would be to have a bath or a shower. I couldn’t get the shower taps turned on, so I decided to have a bath. I nearly plutzed when I opened the tap and brown water came out. Elizabeth was in the opposite bathroom and her water too, was brown. I was not amused. Turns out that the park uses the water from the river which is filtered to remove organisms and such, but it can’t remove the colour. I was horrified!

Knowing me better than I know myself, Elizabeth shoved me aside and poured about half a bottle of bath foam in the bath making the brown water invisible under a white blanket of sweet-smelling bubbles. I eventually climbed into the bath and was pleasantly surprised that the water is even hotter than ours at home! I lay and soaked for a while. When I was ready to eventually wash myself, I realized that I had no soap. Crap! I bemoaned my lot to Elizabeth who came to my rescue with body wash, but not after negotiating the use of my sponge because she’d left hers at home. Fair deal…

Out of the bath and ready to get back into dry clothes…only to discover I’d left my underwear in the tent! So I had to go commando…first thing I did when I got back to the tent was put on my bra and panty.

Dad being the awesome man that he is already had a fire going, so Elizabeth and I held our shoes over the flames and got them dry. A flame licked my shoelace and it caught alight, but I slapped it out very quickly.

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I’d rather have wet shoes than no shoes! We soon found out that the fire was for breakfast, not shoe-drying. Sausages, eggs and buns on the menu. Camping was turning out to be real fun.

Mom wasn’t feeling well, so I loaded her, and some of the stuff we wouldn’t be needing, like the bedding and my clothes in the car and quickly dashed her home. Once back at the site, I ended up with wet shoes again, so Dad said I should check in the motorhome. He remembered seeing mom’s wellies in there somewhere…I found them and soon I was happy camper because I was going to have dry feet for the rest of the day. Or so I thought…

Other friends had let me know that while they wouldn’t be able to camp, they’d join us for a barbeque on Sunday. They started arriving and soon we were a happy group of Dad, colleagues, friends and kids. I should mention at this point that I did this exact same barbeque thing, at the exact same venue for my birthday last year, and it was a great success. One of my friends Yasmin, who was there last year and I decided to repeat history and hire a pedal boat.

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We pedalled up river back to the campsite and Steve and some other guy-friends were standing at the fire, close to the riverbank, so when we pedalled in, Steve grabbed the rope and pulled us in. Yasmin and I couldn’t manoeuvre the rudder to come alongside the bank, so we “parked” as best we would with Steve holding the rope tight. We both got up at the same time and balance along the pontoons, but Yasmin stepped off a split second sooner than I did which resulted in the boat tipping and me going arse over kettle, fully clothed, with heavy wellies on, straight into the murky brown water.

Apparently it was like watching something in slow-motion – but it was not slow enough for someone to reach out their hand and grab me without falling in themselves. I emerged from the water like someone who’d been baptized by a madman, hair all matted on my face, clothes clinging to my figure and wellies filled with water and Lord knows what else.

The guys helped me onto the bank but once I was up and I’d realized what had happened, I burst into tears. Tears of embarrassment and shock. The fright was bigger than the embarrassment, because some years ago I dived into the shallow end of a swimming pool, which resulted in my cracking my head open and breaking my nose. The doctor said that it was a miracle that I hadn’t broken my neck. It dawned on me at that moment when I saw everyone that I could very well have fallen back, and hit my head, or broken my neck because I didn’t know how deep the water was.

Michelle and Elizabeth both came running with towels and calmed me down. I was shivering with cold. Elizabeth took me back to the ablution block and ran me another hot bath. At this stage I was so cold I didn’t care what colour the water was. The problem arose when I realized I had no clothes. They were at home, with mom. All Elizabeth had to lend me was her pyjama pants and her top. I put them on, this time forced to go commando, only to realize that the pants were short and the hair on my legs was so long you could pick up a signal from a space satellite. I grabbed another pair of pants out of her bag – mom’s very bright, pink, fluffy pants and pulled them over. Ah…legs covered.

I had to put on one of Dad’s tops over Elizabeth’s one because without it, it was quite obvious that I wasn’t wearing a bra. I really looked glam. Trendsetter, I tell you!

After lunch everyone went home and we packed up camp, with many wonderful memories. I can’t wait to go camping again, but next time I’ll be a tad more prepared. I’ll make sure:

1. To inflate the mattress extra hard and put newspaper underneath it (I heard it keeps the cold away).

2. To have more than one pair of shoes (and to make sure they’re water proof)

3. To have more than two pairs of socks.

4. To have more than one change of clothes, and not to take them home before I’m sure I’m not going to need them.

5. To have soap and all my clothes in the bathroom when I go to clean myself up.

6. To wear my bathing costume if I’m going to be close to the water.

7. To check my cup/glass of wine for bugs before simply taking a swig.

Next camping trip is booked for 25 and 26 October, at a place called Peace of Eden… but this is a different type of camping – the tents have beds in them, and there is a shower off the tent. Carmen and Ewan arranged it quite a while ago. I am looking forward to it!

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