Shall we Dance??


You know that scene in this movie with Richard Gere and Jennifer Lopez?  The one where they have mental sex whilst dancing to the most sensual music, and you see the sweat beads on the small hairs in his neck, her lips moist and parted most of the time until she closes them after a gasp of air, their hands all over each other’s backs, and her famous derriere doing its talking!  Well, I’ve just watched it for the hundredth time in my life, and it still enchants and mesmerises me……  And I am blessed cause my man still stirs all that chemistry in me.

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Gnawing the skin around your fingers until it bleeds!


We all do it – we bite the skin around our nails and then pull a piece, and then when it bleeds and we know it is going to be sore like hell the next morning, and especially when we put it in water, we want to kick ourselves, wondering why we did it in the first place.

Is life not like that all too often, we push and prod at a problem, or rather a perceived problem, until it bleeds, and then, at that point, it is too late – the hurt afterwards is inevitable!!

So why do we do it?  Cause we get carried away in the heat of the moment – that moment when pulling the piece of skin feels so creepily good, the saltiness of the bit of blood that seeps through tastes divine, and at all costs we want the offending piece of skin that irritated to be gone with forever.  And then the pain afterwards.

So it is with marriage and all too often we do this kind of damage in the heat of the  moment, only to find that irretrievable damage afterwards – a raw wound that takes days, and of course in the real world of damage caused in our lives, months or years to heal.

No, I am not in any danger of losing my man, but it has been a challenging few months, with us in each other’s hair too often, arguing about all and nothing – certainly nothing important enough to lose what we have.  Yet, we pull and tear away, knowing it may be sore afterwards.  We have lived apart for too long now – him on the farm and I on the West Coast.  Lots of plans for our future have been playing themselves off in our life, and as per normal, no matter how well we plan and think that our plans are set in stone, life happens.  So, in our case, influence from outside, i.e. a tenant ruining my rented house down here, which I had to fix first, the pursuit of comfort which unfortunately involves the root of all evil, money, or the lack of it (I am sure many very wealthy people also feel life play with them at times), etc have all made for me having to spend some prolonged time down here, with Kobus up there.  And then, as per normal human hearts / brains, whatever rules us, the devil comes and plays havoc in our minds.  For me, it simply is that I love it here, and I am therefore so sad to even spend a day up there, but there also means I can sleep behind my beloved’s back, wake up seeing his lovely face and love and laugh with him!!

So, it is off I go for a few weeks, and bye-bye to the beautiful Langebaan for a while.  To go and put some ointment on the sore where I tugged and gnawed on a piece of skin, and hope the sore is over soon if I treat it with loving care.

 

 

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Death, you ugly, loathsome beast!


If you read the Bible, you’ll know that death is a beast, a two-headed, ugly beast that is so powerful, that only God has beaten the beast when He resurrected His Son.

My ex-brother in law died a few hours ago. I knew that today was the day when I woke up this morning. My daughter says I scare her, as I know when death is coming to knock on a door close to me. I dreamt that my dad died a week before his death, I knew that an acquaintance was nearing death a few weeks ago, and quite a few more of this has happened in my life. I spent a long time with him, alone, just the two of us, two evenings ago and obviously knew it was not going to be days or weeks anymore. His eyes were misted over, his finger tips cold, where once was a fleshy male body lay a bundle of bones, with thinly stretched skin covering twitching sinews and weakly pulsating veins.

He was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer (a la Patrick Swayze) just more than a year ago, and fought a brave battle. Initially, after the first shock and operation, followed by debilitating chemo, he tried to do the whole green barley, no smoking / drinking routine, but once it was clear that the battle was slowly swinging in imminent death’s favour, he started enjoying his glass of wine and his cigarettes again. And no-one begrudged him as we saw how death was tightening its grip on his life force, by eating away at his flesh, his heart, his soul, leaving despair in his eyes, trembling hands, and weak legs.

He was lucky – his normally sunny disposition enchanted many people to love him during his lifetime, and thus, today, his last day on this earth, his previous wife, my beloved sister, and his last loved girlfriend spent precious time with him, until he was ready to let go of life and he asked them to leave him alone – clearly to die in privacy and peace.

When I drove through to Cape Town on Tuesday, I was startled when an oncoming car veered onto my side of the road, only to realise that the driver was swerving to avoid a wheat squirrel whose mate had just been hit by a previous vehicle. This little animal was dashing in from the side of the road to smell and touch the warm little body of its friend / partner as it lay freshly dead on the tarmac, and my fear was that it too was going to get killed by the next car. And then I wondered – would it not be better for it to die as well? Do they mate for life, and the one left behind is now alone until that monster called death also comes for it? More thoughts were that some people simply disregard the fact that animals have hearts and souls – if so, why was this little bereft animal darting in and out of passing traffic to be by its dead partner’s side?  Why if it did not have a soul according to some people?  And I think of lonely widows / widowers all over this globe – where this monster has come in and wreaked havoc without anyone having a fighting chance to ward it off.

What do these two things have in common? Nothing other than death – no animal, no plant, no person can be spared death. I asked Johan two nights ago if he is ready to face whatever the next part of his journey would bring, and with grey eyes staring at me, he shrugged his shoulders. Cause we have no choice. Death will get us – each one of us, and we better wake up and realise that this life is not to be the death of our souls whilst our hearts are still beating. Let’s live!  Let’s love.  If only I could spread this message into the hearts and souls of those who right at this moment are embroiled in warfare, killing, maiming others.  Let us, the ones that are reading this and who care, pay this message forward.

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I fell off the Banting wagon


I am not going to say much more than I fell off the Banting wagon. All this eating as much as you like, fatty and creamy foods, butter et al, has made me more fat than ever!!

I know the diet is supposed to be 100% strictly no sugar, low (or no) carbs and it comes with a warning that if you still eat these PLUS the banting food, you’ll get fat, and that is exactly where I am. At first I thought this was the next best thing to sliced bread, and that I can do it – loving the fact that I could eat the skin on chicken, and the fat on my braai chops, but then I learned another thing: I am an addict. O dear, my daughter called me an addict a long time ago, and of course, as per all addicts, I denied, and lied.

But, when I sat down on Monday afternoon this week, with the cuppa tea in the one hand and the other hand holding the most delicious chocolate muffin covered in Mint Crisp ganache, I recognized that I am an addict to sugar. One muffin followed another down my throat, until all six were devoured – no, I am not kidding you! The six pack was done – and not a crumb left for my beloved either, and another layer added to hide my long-ago six pack on my tummy.

So I asked my cousin for her advice. She was diagnosed with diabetes a few months ago, to the point where she had to inject herself every day. And she took the challenge, changed her diet, her way of life, and shed more than 20kg’s by now – and looking hot baby! Her advice, believe it or not, is what we all know deep down inside: everything in moderation. Sure, she had to cut out sugar, and she bears testimony that at some point you do not miss it anymore. But she eats more healthy, and 6 small meals a day – low fat, low carb, but balanced.

So its back to the drawing board for me. Anyone want to buy the almost new book – The Real Meal Revolution from me?

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Flies on a windscreen


So here I leave a client at the local retirement village and at the intersection to hit the highway home, I look left and right, right? And I notice two flies mating on my passenger side window. She is large – a real fat mama, and he is small, but happily settled into the act, riding on her back. And of course, being a highway, I need to give gas, and laughed so hard I nearly overturned my car!! She is holding on for dear life, he is still stuck, his wings start to flap uncontrollably, and the next moment his whole body bends over backwards, wings and all flapping upside down now! And he is still stuck! Shame!!!….. I was so relieved for their sake when they finally blew off, still stuck together, hoping they will not just land on the tarmac in front of the oncoming traffic and at least have some time to enjoy and do “conscious uncoupling” — o no wait, that’s Gwynneth Paltrow’s line….. At least they were still alive when they finally flapped off together – the poor guinea fowl that did a death run into my car was worse off yesterday. As I did not see him behind the car after he ran straight into it, I feared he was stuck somewhere in front, and indeed, when I got home – there he was – firmly stuck between bonnet and registration plate, which was hanging onto one screw. My swak hart! At least my garden boy, who had to take care of it for me as I simply could not, had a stunning supper (bad enough already to pick up small dead mice courtesy my cats in the house every morning, or step on a snake in the dark on the way to the loo). Check the wings in the first photo still straight, and the next one he just bent right over!! Poor thing.

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Week two of this low carb, high fat eating plan.


I don’t own a scale, so I cannot tell if I have lost any weight at all, but I do know I have had some of the side effect they talk about!  Bloating, headaches, etc.  BUT!  I do feel more healthy, no doubt, and my clothes feel more comfortable.

For the first time in my life the thought of a diet is really not daunting, and as I’ve mentioned previously, it must be because there are not restriction on how much you may eat.  (Must say, stuffed myself with nice loin chops – fat ‘n all!, and roast chicken the other day and felt positively pigged-out).

For lunch today I made a tuna pie:  fried onion in a dollop of butter, added the tuna and some paprika, herbs and spices and CREAM.  Whipped this into an egg and milk mixture, topped with grated cheese and baked till brown and crispy.  I served it with a lovely side salad with added fresh mint leaves from the garden, and there we had our banting meal.

Tonight I will try and delight hubby with some nice chicken curry in coconut milk, with veggies to match.  Must say, becoming quite the cook these days.  My friends are probably laughing out loud now, as they know this is a newby for me.

I spent some more time poring over the contents of the book – The Real Meal Revolution, and I must say, it really makes sense to me.  Think back on how we older folk grew up:  fatty meat, real butter, cream, full-fat milk, eggs etc.  I can vividly remember my granny’s meat dishes – swimming in the fat!  And then ponder on the cancer stats then and now – a huge increase in cancer cases worldwide since the food pyramid that the USA got us all to believe, with carbs / grains etc making up the biggest chunk of it, was told as gospel since the late 70′s.

I for one, am happy to give this a good try – but as my dear fellow blogger, Dannie Hill said, everything in moderation.  So I had a small glass of sherry last night………

Happy banting to everyone else who is doing it out there – and that, I believe is now almost half of South Africans.  So much so that some potato farmer wants to sue the author of this book, Tim Noakes.

 

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So its off to the shop to buy the right “banting” foods


O dear, no beetroot – how cruel can a diet be?? I really don’t mind the no potato, no rice, no  bread rule, but no beetroot??

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I have to admit the Tim Noakes book looks like a Bible – and no doubt, in some cases are revered on the same level as a Bible. Some of my clients have reported huge weight losses on this diet, and I am green with envy. But as per most diets over the years, it is so difficult to actually fine-tune the brain to accept that I MAY NOT eat this, or that, and that the restriction in itself makes for me to not even start. HOWEVER, this diet is really not a restrictive diet as to how much you may eat – no weighing, no portions (other than fruit per day), and thus it should be easy. But this pea-brain of mine, that knows all too well that I am Slightly Overweight (O K, my view at times – sometimes it is seriously overweight!), just cannot kick itself into gear to start, and I have found every excuse under the sun not to start – best excuse being that the sweet temptations in the house needs to be eaten up first, and then I can start. The “Bible diet book” actually tells you to literally TOSS the offending food items, but hey, how will I ever be able to toss a Yorkie Bar?? And then there is the tiny problem of loving drinking yoghurt, but in South Africa (not sure about the rest of the world), you simply do not find them without sugar added.

I made a huge fish pie for lunch, and even my daughter Belinda, who is an excellent cook, will be proud of my effort. The last of the Weskus fish my husband smuggled to the farm in our deep fridge when he moved some stuff up to the farm again, were dutifully taken out this morning, but when I saw the air temperature in the house is not going to thaw them in time for lunch, I hung them in the plastic packets on the tree outside, which worked charmingly. Then of course, I realized that I would need to scale them. Well, as I am dressed rather smartly today, there was no way in hell I was going to scale some fish and risk me being covered in either scales or water splashes that would result in me smelling like a fish-monger. So, trusted Google helped again, and volia! – I got to Martha Steward’s blog on grilling fish with scales and all, with the promise of simply being able to peel the scaly skin off afterwards. Let me tell you, it worked like a bomb – I was literally able to spoon out the stunning white fish from the hard outer layers, flake it, make sure there were no bones at all in it, and proceed with my pie. The bones and surrounding meats were cooked up for more broth – yes, the “Bible” tells us to cook leftovers for broth!!.

I love the fact that I can use so much butter, so I fried a huge onion and lotsa mushrooms in a dollop of butter, added spice, and mixed it into the flaked fish. This was topped off with an egg and milk mix, just like we use for the traditional South African Bobotie dish, and the piece-de-resistance:  sprinkled cheddar cheese that I grilled to perfection after cooking the pie till firm. So, my first real banting dish made from scratch, and it was delicious.

Now, to get into the eggs, bacon and the fat, o yes, the fat – me, who have never eaten chicken skins, nor the fat on any meat, not even a well barbequed braai chop, must now get used to eating the whole caboodle – fat and all. Ah well, who would have thought that fat erases fat? Or so we are now led to believe, and as they say, the proof is in the pudding – in this case, the number of testimonials about this wonder diet.

So tomorrow, it is off to the shop I go to buy the “right” nuts, the “right” oils, fresh cabbage and then some more, and then to start this new cult in full force! Send me your stories too please, I want to know if you have had any success.

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