Busy-ness

Madness at work. Last working day before camp begins. Have the jitters. And the irritations and the complete confucious chaos's. Who knows when I'll have time to pick my nose relax and blog again! So, here's wishing you guys a great weekend. Think of us, with ninety-odd kids descending on us in less than 48 hours time! Heaven help us! I feel a hernia coming on.

Kit-Kat

It turns out our new kitty is not a SHE but a HE! You could call it a case of mistaken identity. But the vet says he is a very sturdy 4-5 week old little fella. So, you know what that means? Feeds through the night, with a special little baby bottle and formula, wiping his butt so that he'll know it's time to go do his business, and all those other fun fun jobs. What a cutie pie he is! Now it's just naming the little guy... We have a few ideas. What do you think?

What should we name our new kitty?
	Jonah - as in Lomu (because he's an All Black!)
	Peanut Butter - Peanut for short (because Black Cat Peanut Butter is the best peanut butter on the planet)
	Shadow
	Uswot (it means "black" in Old Egyptian / Persian language)
	Boytjie
View Results

Or give us some suggestions ok?

Newbie

My heart is pumping thick lumpy custard! Siggghhhh... Guess what is sitting on my lap right now? Our brand new little kitty, which Robin rescued from a tyre dump in town today! Just look at this cutie pie! Awwwww, hello kitty...

She's been purring on my lap all day. Apart from the times she almost suckled my finger nails off that is. Isn't she just the most beautiful little thing? So, we're brainstorming names. Any ideas?

Freshly ground

It. Is. Crazy. At. Work. Right. Now.
We have a group of kids arriving for their kiddies camps on Sunday, so it is total frenzy here this week. Fax machine spewing forth garbled faxes; telephone and cellphone ringing simultaneously; a barrage of helpers in and out of my madhouse office firingamillionandonequestionsandneedinganswersimmediately... and of course blogger's website not working all day today... Think total frustration. After yesterday's madness, I brought in some much needed artillary caffeine this morning. To control the jitters and all. I know, I know - so much for my resolution to avoid all things of an addictive nature, e.g. cyber-heaven, caffeine, etc. Not forgetting my daily dose of Oprah, of course. Oh, did I tell you about that resolution? Maybe I didn't. Not surprising, considering the whirlwind of activity total craziness here right now. So, aaaaaannnnnyway... Caffeine. I came to work armed this morning. With the good stuff. Mocha Java, baby. Perched precariously on my very overladen desk today is my cappuccino maker, complete with frother, coffee grounds, milk and the water fountain standing at attention. A really lekker bonus I hadn't really factored into the equation was what a powerful bargaining chip it would be here at work. It's all about bribery and corruption. I've had an endless stream of beggars colleagues coming to me with all manner of favours for bartering in exchange for a cuppa. Shucks! If I'd known the magical power of this sweet-smelling brew, I'd have brought it to work ages ago. Because I'm lazy like that. Why should I slave away, when there are dozens of others to do the work, I always say. Which probably accounts for a few of my fatrolls and my new fave theme song... (and they just happen to be named Freshly Ground - like, as in coffee! It's fate, I tell you!)

spam!

I would love to be able to say I had a valid excuse for not blogging the last few days, but really I was just totally uninspired to say anything. And you all know how rare that is for me. It's been WONDERFUL being back home at my hillbilly dump, doing nothing convalescing. Me and my ladies are feeling so much better now. This time last week was agony. So, life's looking decidedly perkier for me now. Maybe one of the boring reasons why I haven't blogged or even gone online once since I'm home (until now) was because I was really just so sick and tired of being sore all day long, and feeling like there was no end to the pain in sight. But, today things are really looking up. And bouncy. Sorry - I just couldn't resist.

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But, it was also a mini-experiment for myself too. I had become a bit hooked on cyber-space lately (my addictive personality thingy), and wanted to see how long I could last without even plugging in my 3G doodab. Three days. And then my fingers started twitching I couldn't resist just checking if I had emails waiting. Listen to this disappointing total for three days worth of waiting... grand total: sixty six unread emails. Woop dee doo. And of those sixty six emails, guess how many were NOT forwards? Three. So, sorry folks, if any of your mails to me had a "fw" at the start of the subject, it was just deleted by moi. Because, really, how many "happy friends day" or "good morning" emails can you read before they become meaningless? Here's to taking my emails by the horns! Power to the people! Viva! (Some of my South African roots showing there. Ja nee.)

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Thanks for the suggestions for a gift for my tjommie, guys. As much as I'd love to buy her a spa treatment, that would involve babysitters for her son while she's gone warra warra fish paste... so me thinks a barney (or some other similar equally annoying) dvd - with matching earplugs set - is the way to go. Maybe it's a good thing I never got to be a mom! Shucks... that Mommy Business is some serious stuff! Staying up all night, changing some nappies akin to nuclear waste, listening to "mama, mama, mama, mama" over and over and over and over and over and over and over again... That's some tough stuff, that's for sure. Trying on the nerves. And the wallet. And the sleep. Gawsh, I really don't know if I'd have had the metal for that kind of lifelong responsibility. Especially considering my propensity for doing fickle things like sleeping late, eating when I feel like eating, staying clean all day, smelling nice, dashing off to visit friends at a moment's notice, et cetera. It would really mean your life is TOTALLY different once you're a parent. And I'm begining to enjoy my life as it is now, thank you very much. I like having a nice, neat, quiet home.

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Who am I kidding? I would have LOVED to have been a mom! But, I'm beginning to see, too, that I can also be happy as a non-mom. Thank goodness for that! A year or so ago, there was no reasoning with this silly billy. I did not even want to consider the possibility that mommydom might not be in the cards for me. I refused to accept that eventuality. But moving forward and letting it go has been the best thing I've ever done. A childless life for me, now, isn't so scary anymore.

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So anyway, basically, life = v groovy for me right now.

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My parents, sister, nephew and bro-in-law arrive tonight for the weekend. Should be loads of fun! They say they're missing us and life on the farm but I think they're just curious dying to see my new additions. Hee hee! I'll probably post some pics for you to see on Sunday. (Of my family etc., not the gals yet. They're still really swollen and not looking the way they will in a few weeks time. More realistic expectations of outcome only around Christmas time... so, if you're good, I might post some before and after pics only then.)

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OK, I'm going to log off now. I have bunches of other people's blogs to catch up on from the last few days. Toodledoo!

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PS if your housekeeping's not quite up to date and your need to have your monitor cleaned, click here!

Going home

We are travelling home today. I am so excited! But I know it's going to be a very painful journey. Five hours in a vehicle, hugging a cushion to my chest to minimize bounce. I've already popped some big bomb painkillers. Just in case. Can't wait to be in my home though. In my bed. With my couch. My kitties. With my remote control. et Cetera. Yay! It's been a really cushy stay here at my tjommie's house. But for a non-mom, it's been hard too. I can quite happily say that I never want to hear another Cedarmont Kids song ever again. Ever. As in, till I die one day. But other than that - I can only gush about how wonderful my tjommie's been. (She doesn't read my blog, so this isn't for her benefit, ok?) Talk about looking after an invalid. I owe her big time. I know what a pain in the oo-all I can be when I'm feeling rotten. Any ideas what a really grateful big-boobed person can buy as a thank you for someone special who went beyond the call of duty to make a miserable invalid feel comfy?

The novelty died *updated*

OK, I'm suffering from sense of humour failure now. I really thought by now my boobs, or more specifically, my right boob, would be less sore by now. On Monday on the drive home to my friend's house from the hospital, we hit a couple of potholes that left my right boob really sore afterwards. I thought it would die down, but this right boob of mine is just plain friggin sore. All. The. Time. The best way I can describe it is like a toothache, that is a dull achey pain all the time, but throbs every now and again, and twinges when I use my arm too quickly. So I am popping painkillers all the time and hoping it's nothing too serious. I have my follow up appointment with the surgeon on Monday morning (sort of for an alignment, tee hee!) but when I phoned his practise the receptionist said it sounded like "phantom pain". Phantom pain my oo-all! I'm just sick and tired of it now. Sore. Sore. Sore. I wasn't actually going to tell you about it, seeing as this is self-inflicted pain and I volunteered for it and and and... I didn't want a bunch of "well you deserve it" comments... but we all know how good I am at keeping things from you guys.

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Other than that, all is well in the land of deep cleavage.
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My hubby arrived last night and it's absolutely heavenly having here with me. He is, um, impressed with my new additions! hee hee.

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Hope you guys have a wonderful weekend.
Me? I'm going to be topping up on some good painkillers.

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I just got back from the surgeon. He took one look, had a fiddle here and a fiddle there, opened the drains, pulled one long clot out one of them, and it was like INSTANT pain relief. I am totally painfree now, people. No pain whatsoever! Can't even begin to tell you what a huge relief it is! HOORAY!!!

Mammie

I've been trying to blog all day, but just couldn't seem to find something to blog about. Mmm... I've come to the conclusion that big-breasted women totally lack brains apparently my brains were vacuumed out during surgery, rendering me incapable of anything requiring imagination. It's hard to blog about anything but the boozies right now. Sorry folks. And I was trying so hard to "resume my blog's normal programming" too. Oh well. The stuck record is, well, truly stuck.

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Before I go though, I must tell you about my friend Riana's little boy, Jean. He calls his mommy "Mama". Apparently I am now officially mommy number two, because he's taken to calling me "Mammie". It was a bit heartsore for me the first couple of times he called me Mammie - I never thought I'd ever hear someone calling me that - but I must say, I am growing to love the sound of it. I get a wonderfully warm, squishy feeling when I hear him calling me that name, usually reserved for mothers. I could quite get used to it!

Boozie update

You think you guys can't believe I actually went through with it. I woke up three times last night just to check that I actually had boobs, because it felt like an awesome dream that I just didn't want to wake up from! Needless to say, I am totally smitten. EVERYBODY should get boobs! Yay for boobs!

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OK, so I was a little sore last night. Sore enough to wish I could take more than two painkillers at a time. And down a few bottles of vodka. And I don't even drink, people! So, yes, the pain has arrived. But still not as bad as what I expected, from reading Tertia's experience with her new girlies.

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Speaking of arrivals, tomorrow my hubby arrives for the weekend. So, excitement abounds. He can't wait to meet Pammy and Dolly. I can't wait to have someone to tie my shoelaces. And have someone else around to ooh and aah over my gals. Yes, I'm not afraid to admit that I am indeed just a wee bit of a braggart right now. Who could blame me when, OH MY WORD, I have boobs!

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This morning I had my first bath since the op. Took me about three hundred years to climb into the bath, even with my tjommie holding me up. And then about fifty two years to climb back out again afterwards. But at least now I smell as fresh as a daisy and feel absolutely wonderful.

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Anyway, just wanted to update you and thank you for all the comments! I love getting comments. Opium of the bloggers and all of that. I'm sure you must be sick and tired of hearing about my boobs all the time. I'm a bit of a stuck record right now. This blog will return to it's usual programming soon. Promise.

No Booboo's for me!

I am home, with my new 400cc's of boobs and a big bag of pills! I am soooooo excited! I can't tell you how awesome it is to have cleavage, baby! There is actually a valley between my boobs, people. A VALLEY! I was anticipating total agony, but this isn't even really really sore. A bit uncomfortable, but otherwise totally manageable. With pills. And coffee.

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My shattered nerves, I must tell you about my experience in the ward! I was in the geriatric ward, with six beds, so there were five other grannies ladies in the ward with me. It was obvious they weren't there for plastic surgery. If you know what I mean. They were all sixty and older. With really chronic cases of flatulence. If you want to know why I didn't get much sleep, then there's your reason. The one lady was even grossing herself out with the stench. Seriously! At one stage I thought I should ask for a gas mask. And they don't even try to fart quietly. Well, let's put it this way - if they were trying to do so silently, then pursuit of excellence surely isn't their strongsuit. And I mean that as kindly as is humanly possible, while holding your nose shut.

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Needless to say, me and my nose are both ecstatic to be at my tjommie's home again. As for my two new gals, they are gaaaaaawjus, doll. I've named them Dolly and Pammy. I luvvem luvvem luvvem. I can't believe I actually did it. So many years of bemoaning my bee stings. And now it's all over. I have bazookas now, baby. Really round boozies. I can't believe it. Granted, they are still really swollen and a bit really sore right now, but man oh man. Words fail me. I. Have. Boobs.

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And that's all I have to say about that.

Me and my boob-do

Yay! I get my boobs in three hours time! Am beyond excited now. Not nervous anymore. I get booked in at 12h00, surgery at 14h00, sleep the night and book out tomorrow morning about eightish nineish. Woot woot! Yay for boobs! Am going to a private hospital for the sugery so, it should be groovy. Not that I'm really going to have an appreciation for my environment once I have my boobs and all... my eyes might be a bit more prone towards my new, um, additions. You know. Very verrrryyy excited now.

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The doctor is awesome too, just so by the way. Not an old toppie or hoity-toity or anything. Very relaxed, but comes highly recommended. I honestly have NO reservations about the procedure or about anything. I even said to the doctor that the only thing more he could do that would make me extra happy would be to put a hot water bottle in my bed after the surgery! Tee hee... he said he'd do even better than that and put a "bear hug" on me or something like that. Apparently it's a really fluffy blankie that blows out hot air! Awesome. No cold feet for me!

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Just wish my hubby was also here... Otherwise, this is one happy chappy.

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So guys, I'll be chatting again maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day ok?

Here I go.

It's TODAY!

It's today! It's today!
Oh my word!
I am so nervous I could just pop.
Am about to leave for the consult with doc.
Oh my word!
EEEEEK!

One more sleep *updated*

So, today is my last day as sponge-stuffing Char! Woo hoooo! This afternoon I drive up to Johannesburg with friends who spent the weekend here in Dundee on the farm, and I'll be gone for two weeks. Tomorrow it's surgery, and then recuperation afterwards. I am still not nervous. At all. Just really excited. But I'm going to miss my hubby something terrible! He can't go with me, seeing as we have two major kiddies camps in December to prepare for, and my boss (honey that he is!) said I could go no matter how busy things are at work right now. How do I thank him for being such a groovy boss? He actually said Robin could go too, but we refused. We are a three-man-team, and if two of us disappear just weeks before two major camps, then what's going to happen with the preparations? So, these next two weeks are going to be hard for me, not seeing my gorgeous man every day...

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I will try my best to blog and to get emails and things, but I don't know if my 3G thingy will work at my friend's house... It should work, being Johannesburg and all! The biggest city in South Africa. If it's going to work anywhere, then it should work there! If it doesn't, sjoe!, I don't know what I'm going to do without being able to blog!

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So, peoples, here's wishing you a wonderful two weeks, just in case. Wooot woot! Sooooo exciting!

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OK, so it's two hours since I wrote this post, and now my bags are packed and I am ready to go. All of a sardine I am SOOOOO nervous I am actually shaking. My shattered nerves! Might need a few sedatives. And a couple hundred pots of coffee. It's not that I'm second-guessing my decision to have the op... I'm just scared of waking up afterwards and being really sore! Which is totally unavoidable, but still hectically scary! Like as in scared out of my flipping wits! EEK!

Blog-a-phobic!

Wowee, talk about stirring up a hornet's nest! In retrospect I was definitely WRONG WRONG WRONG to post so hastily yesterday. I get one comment that doesn't go "Yay!" about my boozie issues and I'm instantly rattled. And didn't take long enough to think about what I was going to post. So, o-blog-a-holic-reading-peoples-out-in-cyber space, here's my sincere and humble apology for posting before giving some thought to what I wanted to say, and for not being gracious and kind and my usual frivolous self. I am most definitely a little bit volatile. Might very well be hormonal. Then again, I might just be a little more nervous about going ahead with the op than I actually realized. Nah... I totally DO WANT TO have the op. So it must be the former. Which wouldn't be totally unheard of, what with my hormones being the way they are. All helter skelter and all of that. But I'm not making excuses. I totally deserve to be eating humble pie.

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But, even though I'm apologizing, some of what I wrote yesterday still stands. This is my blog after all. Yes, it is a public place for anyone to come and look-see, comment, and so forth. But if you're going to comment on my bloggy, then comment nicely. And please leave your name! Anonymous immediately makes me feel nervous now, so if you want me to really enjoy your comment, or take it to heart, then here's a tip for you: leave your name. Or make up a name for yourself. Anonymous right now = me not too happy.

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Also, I want to apologize for saying "Yankees" or "Yankeeland" etc. I had NO IDEA that that was derogatory to anyone out there. I am one hundred percent totally-otally South African. I can say without reservation that I did not mean to offend anyone. I honestly meant it in an endearing manner, with lots of lovey-dovey feelings attached. Many of my closest friends are of the American persuasion, and seeing as none of them ever took offense at being called a Yankee, I had no reason to believe I was belittling anyone out there. Please accept my apologies for being totally toe-trodding! Truely, I thought it was like saying "honey" or "tjommie" or "pal" or something like that, but meaning American people in general. I always try to make my posts user-friendly to everyone who might be reading, and seeing as I'd noticed that my little map thingy in my right-hand column had many dots in America, I always tried to explain coloquialisms that might pop up in my blog every so often.
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So, here's to easy-reading again. Here's to a fun blog, where you get to share in my life and where I get to share freely without fear of judgement or blame.

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P.S. Thanks for all the comments, guys, and especially those who commented for the very first time ever, to say your say and to put my mind at ease. I love blogging and would hate to feel so intimidated by my readers that I would retract my blog from cyberspace.

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And now onto other topics. I got zapped by a spider last night. Wanna see the evidence? Ugghhh... this is what I get for living in the bush:-

So, this morning it was off to the doc again for more jobbas. And lots of mooti. And creams. Now you know why I detest spiders!!!

Dear Anonymous Lurker

I find it very interesting that almost all the comments that come up "anonymous" on my blog are usually derogatory or contradictory in nature. Very interesting. Makes me think the lurker is either scurrilous or just looking to annoy. Which makes them scurrilous anyway. Be gone, you lurker. Or identify yourself. One of the two. Otherwise I might need to close this blog to readers I do not know. Which would be sad for me indeed.

P.S. I don't mind having a good discussion, especially when we disagree a bit. Makes for interesting conversations. But this anonymous business is just plain annoying. Cowardly, really.

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P.S (2) I don't expect us always to agree. I respect that your opinion differs from mine. But at least own your opinion by putting your name on your comments.

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Now I'm going to make myself a cuppa coffee and hope you actually return to my blog to read my little post. Or not.

Extreme Make*ver, Bakkie Edition

Thought you might like to see what we've been getting up to at work the last few days... These are pics of the Bush Camp's bakkie (that's "pick-up" for Yankeeland-inhabitants) that we decided to renovate as an advert for two kids camps we're hosting in December. You should see the reaction when we're driving down the road in our new rig!

BEFORE:

and AFTER:

Arr arrr ye maties! Ahoy! Ye be invited to join us as we seek ferrrr treasurrrreee... (Going to be loads of fun. Can't wait!)

Going bust

Apparently the recovery for The Boobies is going to be hell on earth quite sore. I am generally such a ninny, but even excruciating agony will not keep me from going for this op! No pain, no gain and all of that! (Zara, you rock!) Oh, and apparently I will not be allowed to fall pregnant for at least six months afterwards. Haha! Very funny. I will also not be allowed to go fufi-sliding or bungee-jumping or horse-back riding for at least six weeks. Haha! Also very funny. Because, clearly I am the very active type who loves doing all manner of adrenalin-inducing sport. Haha! Soooo funny.
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So anyway, last night I had a rummage through my closet to look at my blouses and figure out which would be worth keeping and which would become a bit snug with the improved décolletage. Sadly, not many of them are discard-able... (And I was so looking forward to buying a whole new wardrobe too!)… seeing as I’ve pretty much always stuffed my bra with all manner of thingies to give me some shape… from wads of tissue when I was too young and shy to buy padded bras, to the awesome new very padded boozie-hangers at my fave stores lately. So the way I look now with all the sponge in my bra is pretty much how I will look after the surgery. Minus all the stuffing in my bra of course. Well, maybe a little more roundness too, and less ski-slopey-ness. More all-round squishiness et cetera. Yay!
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Five more sleeps till The Boozie Bonanza!

Keeping you abreast of the situation

I am sooooooo excited! I have big news, people. As in BEEEEEG. Kind of like how my boozies will be in a week's time. Yes, oh yes, o-blog-reading-ones, I have my boob-date set!!! Monday is the big day. Goodbye bee stings, hello boozies. Hello bikinis. And string vests. Adios padded bras. Bring on the bounce.

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This time next week I will already be recovering from my breast augmentation surgery grinning from ear to ear! And resting at my friend's house in Krugersdorp, which is where the surgeon and the private hospital are. Woot woot! Dream come true. A bra-burning session may well be necessary after my surgery, once I'm back in Dundee with my boozies in hand attached.

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Watch this space. I might just post a few before and after pics. If you're very good. And don't leave nasty comments.

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And now, an ode to my humps my humps boozies...

Travelling Wilburies

Just a quickie to tell you that Robin and I are in Durban today - dashed down this morning for a meeting and to do some retail therapy and then we're shooting back home to the Hillbilly dump tonight. Should be home by about 22h30... Makes me wonder if six hours in a car is worth two hours of shopping?!?!? Maybe not. BUT definitely worth it to see our folks again! Woot woot! Chat tomorrow again. Adios amigos!

Funny Friday

This post is 100% totally plagiarised from Especially Heather. I had SUCH a good laugh at it, I just had to steal it from her blog and share it with you. Happy Friday everyone.

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After every flight, UPS pilots fill out a form, called a “gripe sheet,” which tells mechanics about problems with the aircraft. The mechanics correct the problems; document their repairs on the form, and then pilots review the gripe sheets before the next flight.

Never let it be said that ground crews lack a sense of humor. Here are some actual maintenance complaints submitted by UPS ‘ pilots (marked with a P) and the solutions recorded (marked with an S) by maintenance engineers. By the way, UPS is the only major airline that has never, ever, had an accident.

P: Left inside main tire almost needs replacement.

S: Almost replaced left inside main tire.

P: Test flight OK, except auto-land very rough.

S: Auto-land not installed on this aircraft.

P: Something loose in cockpit

S: Something tightened in cockpit

P: Dead bugs on windshield.

S: Live bugs on back-order.

P: Autopilot in altitude-hold mode produces a 200 feet per minute descent

S: Cannot reproduce problem on ground.

P: Evidence of leak on right main landing gear.

S: Evidence removed.

P: DME volume unbelievably loud.

S: DME volume set to more believable level.

P: Friction locks cause throttle levers to stick.

S: That’s what friction locks are for.

P: IFF inoperative in OFF mode.

S: IFF always inoperative in OFF mode.

P: Suspected crack in windshield.

S: Suspect you’re right

P: Number 3 engine missing.

S: Engine found on right wing after brief search.

P: Aircraft handles funny.

S: Aircraft warned to: straighten up, fly right, and be serious.

P: Target radar hums.

S: Reprogrammed target radar with lyrics.

P: Mouse in cockpit.

S: Cat installed.

P: Noise coming from under instrument panel. Sounds like a midget pounding on something with a hammer.

S: Took hammer away from midget.

Eager Birthday Beaver

I am renown notorious for forgetting my friends' birthdays. Especially my BEST friends, for some strange reason. In fact, I have such a reputation for it that my friends are actually SURPRISED when I wish them happy birthday ON the day. And not, say, three weeks later when they mention what great gifts they received. I know I am bad at remembering birthdays, so I've taken appropriate measures to ensure I remember. I set a reminder on my computer. And on my cellphone. And I am registered on BlueMountain's registry-thingy-ma-jiggy so they email me a week in advance and send me ecards to forward on to my soon-to-be-a-year-older tjommie. Which I always forget to send. I am so bad. Luckily for me, I am totally lovable and irresistable, so my friends can't stay cross with me for too long. Fortunate trait that. c",) Usually they've forgiven me in time for my own birthday. Thank goodness!

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So anyway, one of my New Year's resolutions this year was to make sure I remembered my friends' birthdays. I'm not really a New-Years-Resolutions kinda gal, seeing as I've had the worst luck with a few of my resolutions; like these:-

• Will lose weight - at least 24 kg's (2002, 2003, 2004, etc.)
• Will drink less coffee (1942 to date)
• Will have baby (2002 to date)
• Will write a book (1993 to date)
• Will find old school friends who I've lost contact with (thanks to Facebook I can tick this one off the list for next year!)
• Will achieve worldwide fame
• Will be more patient with self
• (And hubby)
• Will befriend the neighbours (Our neighbours don't speak English. We don't speak Zulu. Might provice difficult, this one.)
• Will not smoke (I added this one because I have to succeed at at least one, and I've never smoked, so that's an easy peasy one to do!)

So, anyway, back to the birthday saga. There's one person who's birthday I NEVER forget. Maybe because he was my first love and all of that. But we are still tjommies*, and have *marginal* contact with eachother, so as not to ruffle anyone's feathers. Because people can't seem to understand that you can still be friends with someone (a few years) after you've broken up. But I digress.

Where was I? Oh birthday thingies. So, yesterday, Feeling-So-Good-About-Remembering-The-Birthday Char sends text message to MFL (my first love):-

Happy birthday you old fossil! Hope u're gonna chow some chocolate cake today. Pity u're not here with us on the plaas** going quading... Luv us 2 xxx

Get text message back from MFL within seconds:-

Howzit. Thx for the message. The big day is TOMORROW. The plaas jollers*** are still using the 1983 calendar! Some people... Jokes. Love to everyone. Take care. Thx again.

Char:-

Haha! What? Isn't today the first? Are you sure??? Haha! And I was just sending you a sticky note on facebook too.

(Facebook = new Best Friend Forever!)

MFL replies:-

You droll****! Jokes. Haha. Life is, ja, slow that side...

Clearly. c",) BUT, score major extra points for being Overeager Beaver and sending birthday greetings ONE WHOLE DAY in advance, for sure. Much better than forgetting, not so? Now, if only I can remember where I put my coffee mug...

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Glossary of South African slang:-

* Tjommies (pronounced "chaw-mees") = friends

** Plaas (pronounced like "cars" but with a "pl" instead of the "c") = farm

*** Jollers (pronounced "jaw-liz") = people having fun

**** Droll (pronounced "drawl", but with a short "aw" sound) = a term of endearment for poo