It’s like another country

george-south-africaThe words from my daughter as we drove down into George. Nothing I had described to her had as much impact as when she actually saw what we had thrown ourselves into.

It’s more South African and, yet, less South African. Or maybe, less Jozi. ….. Ok, definitely less Jozi!

The landscape is greener, the cows more plump. The mountains make the Magaliesberg look like pimples. The drive from Great Brak River (our temporary home) is filled with “oh my gosh” sights.

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P.A.C.K. is a Four-Letter Word

lionroar

One month to go.

One month before we hit the road and flee my beloved Joziburg™ to settle along the Garden Route.

One month of trying to hang onto my sanity…onto my visions of a tranquil future.

Today I thought it would be an excellent idea to deal with the CD/DVD collection. It was a Confucian blessing.

INTERESTING…

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Six million other trees

garden-route

In August last year, I started this blog. I was in a pensive mood, caught up in my own thoughts about being a Joziburger™. A love/hate relationship that was part of what I had been and what I wanted to be…an editorial graphic designer vs a free-agent-who-will-do-anything-that-makes-life-interesting.

Some 220-plus applications for jobs, only five-or-so interviews, and only two replies………..that hurts. I have a CV that I am proud of, achievements that are singular, places I’ve been and seen, projects that wouldn’t have worked if I hadn’t thrown myself wholeheartedly into them.

That’s when you look in the mirror and wonder if your career was all just smoke….and mirrors.

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Where’s my water?

wheresmywater
Pic: Delwyn Verasamy, M&G

Yup. Daar’s fokol water.

Joziburg™ and surrounds have a heatwave. A drought… The worst since 1992 (yeah, so I remember that one – 38ºC day after day – while pregnant).

Everyone is looking for someone to blame. Naturally, the gravy train is under scrutiny. (The interesting part about making gravy is that you need water.)

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A frog he would a-wooing go, Jozi style.

frogstadpolesThe entry quoted below comes from my Facebook page, written last spring.

Some would call it love and romance, but I’d ascribe it to the primal force that drives all creatures.

About two years ago I dumped a jar full of tadpoles in the small pond of my postage-stamp-sized front garden. They thrived. And then they vanished.

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“…and what does this thing do?”

Mature CoupleThere I am.

Teaching older people to use their smart gadgets while trying to maintain my coolth. Meanwhile, the wi-fi is farked, and I’m faced with three of Microsoft’s worst operating systems (ok, they’re all bad, but I had to choose a number) on different laptops.

Never mind that there’s an iPad, two Android tablet systems, and a couple of smartphones lurking on the flowered tablecloth.

Four of Jozi’s finest pensioners are about to step onto the treadmill that is the Internet. One of Jozi’s finest unemployed graphic artists is about to see her arse.

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Freakish Friday

I DO think I’m mad. Bloody crazy. Nuts. Gaga. Talk about biting off more than I can chew? Tomorrow is the day for doing that.

I am going to embrace my insane Joziburger™ self and Go Big Or Go Home.

First up: my inaugural meeting at the local chapter of BNI. This will be at 7am. Yes. 7am. Yay, for doing the school run at sunrise.    **thud**    I’m hoping I can slot in there, and make myself useful (and make myself some money), while finding out what the other members can do for me.

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“So, it’s like you’ve retired, almost…”

6Mwtf posterWHAT?

Someone, close to me, said this to me shortly after I’d been retrenched.

The air left my lungs (better places to go), my brain tried to crunch the words, my sense-of-self hauled out the giant “WTF?” poster.

NO!

People like me don’t retire. OK, maybe we do, officially, like when Old Mutual says we have to do something with that pension. But, really, like, retire?

NO WAYS!

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