On Voting.

When it comes to politics I do not generally appeal to my local friends and my U.S.A friends at the same time. Today must be different

To my South African Friends,

In this coming year we have a general election coming up. I beg of you take a stand and be counted. Vote for someone, anyone. Heaven knows I don’t give a rat’s ass who you vote for. Just please don’t be complacent about it. Take a moment to reflect on how your right to vote was paid for in blood by many. Take a moment to reflect on how if you don’t vote now, in ten years you may not have the right to vote anymore. Reflect for a moment on how grand life might be if Julius Malema gets a cabinet post.

If you have not registered yet , *smack* you naughty person you. Head on over to
https://www.elections.org.za. You can find out where to register or verify that you are still registered and on the Voters Roll. Mark the 8th and 9th of November 2008 in your diary’s now. These are voter registration days, where you will be able to register at your nearest polling station. A South African I.D. Document and proof of residence will be required.

To my American friends,

Your day of reckoning is a lot closer. All I will say here is maybe just maybe if there had been less voter apathy the “Clown Prince of The World”, George Dubbya would not have had a second term in office. Don’t think your vote cannot make a difference. When your top man/woman treads on your civil liberties, they tread on the worlds’. Yes I am a fan of Barack Obama, but no, I won’t be prescriptive of how you should vote. Just please do vote. Maybe you want to reflect on where the republican administration got you and the world in the last two terms of office.

A Conclusion of sorts,

In short people voter apathy for me is appalling. If you are apathetic, don’t complain about your government after the fact. It may well be that your apathetic attitude helped put them there.

Interesting that apathy and pathetic have their origins in the same greek root “pathos”
Apathy – Insensibilty or indifference to suffering
Pathetic – liable to suffer.

Notably I think one leads the other. Your indifference to suffering will make you liable to suffer.

One last time, with feeling. Go and Register, Go and Vote Dammit! :-)

Catharsis he wrote...............

The Exsanguination

My tears like blood
Flowed across your infidelity
cast in stone in a foreign land,
An epitaph to their glorious dead.

My tears like blood
Flowed down the passage
That carried the echoed sound
of your lovers orgasmic bliss

My tears like blood
Flowed across a mount
A pile of pages to declare
Your love many thousand deep

My tears like blood
Flowed from the cloth on his back
It would not staunch the wound
It would not stop the flow

My tears like blood
Flowed across a friendly betrayal
The sound of delight
Upon his meet.

My tears like blood
Flowed across the scribing
A practicing hand
Erasing that of my birth

My tears like blood
Flowed across innocent hearts
Currying favour
Bought Betrayed

My tears like blood
Flowed across a pixilated landscape.
Rendered what was mine
Rendered to naught

My tears like blood
Flowed for the love lost
The countless cost
Yet to pay

My tears like blood
Flowed mostly though
For my life my love
No longer wanted nor needed.

My tears like blood,
Flowed across your infidelity
cast in stone in a foreign land,
An epitaph to that which died within me
Exsanguinated finally

The destruction within.

Sorry folks, it is a ramble and reflects my thought at the moment. I am not looking to make sense , or seek advice. It is in some way just a vent. How you interpret it/ apply it / view it, is up to you.

With the fire from the fireworks up above me
With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain at hand
You run for cover in the temple of love
You run for another but still the same
For the wind will blow my name across this land

It is my observation and experience that often when we have something good, we are willing to bet it away in a game of chance, for something less good, transient, yet more exciting.

In the temple of love you hide together
Believing pain and fear outside
But someone near you rides the weather
And the tears he cried will rain on walls
As wide as lovers eyes

I know I do it, I have fallen victim to it. What in us makes us opt for self destructive behaviour against things that are working and good?

And the devil in a black dress watches over
My guardian angel walks away
Life is short and love is always over in the morning
Black wind come carry me far away

It seems we all live in a "summer of discontent". Are we all just marking time until something better comes along? I can no longer believe in forever. I dont know what I believe, let alone what I actually want.

With the sunlight died and night above me
With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain inside
You run for cover in the temple of love
You run for another it's all the same
For the wind will blow and throw your walls aside

I wander if it is just our nature to fuck things up?

With the fire from the fireworks up above
With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain
You run for cover in the temple of love
Shine like thunder cry like rain
And the temple of love grows old and strong
But the wind blows stronger cold and long
And the temple of love will fall before
This black wind calls my name to you no more

When does something become worth not screwing up?

In the black sky thunder sweeping
Underground and over water
Sounds of crying weeping will not save
Your faith for bricks and dreams for mortar
All your prayers must seem as nothing
Ninety-six below the wave
When stone is dust and only air remains

When do I value myself enough not to screw it up?

In the temple of love
Shine like thunder
In the temple of love
Cry like rain
In the temple of love
Hear the calling
And the temple of love
Is falling down

In the black sky thunder sweeping
Underground and over water
Sounds of crying weeping will not save
Your faith for bricks and dreams for mortar
All your prayers must seem as nothing
Ninety-six below the wave
When stone is dust and air remains
The only haven you can trust

Yes, I am down today. No my world is not at end or anything else in it. I just wonder if a "bad moon" is on the rise. I guess I will keep living in the moment and see if it does.

It's a GUY thing........

Hey good people, my readership of three or maybe a few more.


First off, thank you Marihanda for the suggested title of this post.

This post has been a long time coming. I have a whole lot of thoughts and yet very few words to express them. It may still grow to be a lengthy post though.

Thanks all of you for riding the hills and valleys of my life with me and I guess really for still being there.

"There's a period of life when we swallow a knowledge of ourselves and it becomes either good or sour inside. " ~Pearl Bailey

In short by now you all know I am not the straightest man out there. Sure I probably lived a lifetime in denial.

"God has given you one face, and you make yourself another." ~William Shakespeare

I am a man who likes men. Gay, Queer, Fag. I don't much care for the lables. The reality of coming out of the closet is, it is all too often, reduced to a sex act or a lust driven carnal promiscious lifetstyle.

Very far removed from the truth. It allows no scope for men who bond emotionally with men.

"There's this illusion that homosexuals have sex and heterosexuals fall in love. That's completely untrue. Everybody wants to be loved." ~Boy George

I am not about to justify anything here. I feel no need to. This is more about some of my mental meaderings and thoughts on the topic.

There is a lengthy theological debate that could be had. There is a lengthy philosophical debate that could be had. Morality can be argued in both debates. Pshycology has had a field day on the topic. It is not something I chose, nor is it an illness.

"If homosexuality is a disease, let's all call in queer to work: "Hello. Can't work today, still queer."" ~Robin Tyler

For anyone one who is curious as to what made me gay? Homosexuals are chosen first on talent, then an interview. The swim suit and evening gown competition pretty much gets rid of the rest of the competition. ;-)

Seriously I wondered, is this a choice I am making. Get real, no one would willfully choose to be gay. Why would anyone choose to be something found to be abhorent to a large segment of society. Homophobia of the worst kind is internalised homophobia. I know what it is to hate myself. I am dealing with it. I am out now , but not yet proud. In short I did not choose to be something that inside I felt abhorence towards. Then to still choose something knowing your own family, church and community may reject you. Highly unlikely.

"I like my beers cold and my homosexuals flaming." ~Homer Simpson. :-)

"The orientation is a given, not a matter of choice. It would be crazy for someone to choose to be gay, given the homophobia that is present." ~ Desmond Tutu

Once you can live with yourself, you still have to ask youself the question. Could I actually live with another man in my life? I dislike the one I am as it is. If I sound conflicted it is because I have been. It does not mean I am there now. It does mean I have been there.

Often I thought of what a revelation like this to the world at large could mean. Would it bug me, the conclusions that people could draw. Yes it could, but in the end those that know , know and for the rest, does it matter?

Wenchy and I still share a friendship. We had a good season, have our shared sorrows, regrets and responsibilties , made our apolologies and have moved on. I can only wish Wenchy everything good. I know that Wenchy shares the same sentiment for me. What went before does not matter anymore. We both agree we would have ended up where we are today, regardless of what path we chose.

I oft went cold with fear that I would loose my children. They love me regardless.

In a litany of personal acknowledgement I would like to thank (in no particular order), my brother Kevin, Marihanda, Janine, Stephen, Denise, Elize, Gavin, Erica, Gavin, Erica, (no it is not a typo), Jakes, Sonto, Shaun, Sean , Ray, Steven, Shane, Brett, Scott, Kevin, Tony, Brian, Jamie, Etienne, Mike, Ursula, My Therapist, Deborah, Craig, Francesca, Derek, Derick, Stephen,Kirk, Reid, Mike, Darryn, Rey, Brian, Harvey, Drew,RB, Paul, Timothy, Meryl, Andre (Regrettably, Postumously), Louwtjie, and Jen and a host of other fine men and woman. I still choke up thinking about the impact you all have. Each of you sowed, love , acceptance, a pearl of wisdom or gave unwavering support. THANK YOU.



This brings me to present day. Yes I am involved with a man. Jakes, mentioned above. He has perhaps answered more questions for me at a time I thought I was running out of questions to ask. He is sensitive, caring, patient, funny, affectionate, good to my children, and (dare I say sexy?) I am not looking for another parent for my children, they have quite enough. In Jakes they have a friend and who knows on a good day perhaps a common enemy...Me ;-). Both of us are very aware of the effect an emotional bond has on children, and will be mindful to make sure that come what may my children are not left hurting . He is a good man, of that I can be sure.


Always one to credit the photographer the photography and post editing was done by Christel my Ex spouse.

That aside I am living in the moment, one day at a time.

With Love

Me

About music.....Again

It really is true of me. Music has always been my first love. Perhaps, my first friend, my first comforter, my first seducer and my first and lifelong lover.

I watched The Shawshank Redemption this last weekend. (for the gazzillionth time). There is a scene in the movie where Andy Dufresne (played by Tim Robbins) hijacks the prison warders office and plays a piece of music over the prison intercom system. Perhaps the first music some of the occupants have heard in four decades. The scene is touching and the music is truly arrestingly beautiful. I did shed a tear or two.

To borrow a quote from the movie. : Morgan Freeman narrating as the character Red, "I have no idea to this day what those two Italian ladies were singing about. Truth is, I don't want to know. Some things are best left unsaid. I'd like to think they were singing about something so beautiful, it can't be expressed in words, and makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you, those voices soared higher and farther than anybody in a gray place dares to dream. It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our drab little cage and made those walls dissolve away, and for the briefest of moments, every last man in Shawshank felt free."

For anyone who has the inclination the piece of music played is taken from Mozart's, Marriage of Figaro. It is an Aria titled Duettino - Sull.

To follow shortly, My review of the Eagles new album "A Long Road out of Eden"

It is tough working...............

..........across the road from the stopping point for the Boks victory parade.

I am very proudly patriotically South African.

The Thumb says it.

I hope the sport administrators are paying attention.

This one is for you Katt.


He is the man


Captain, My Captain

One would think I am the jaded cynic.......

.........but I guess not.



I have been toying with a few posts, and this one has jumped the queue. No, I am not walking down aisles or tying in knots. It would take years of therapy for that to happen.

This post is purely an acknowledgement to a friend, a lover, and someone exceptional. I love you now. I always will.

There are two kinds of readers on my blog.

Those I have slept with and those I want ……………… um never mind, that has changed now.

Seriously, I believe I have some new readers on my blog so I want to take a moment to acknowledge them. I spent hours practicing typing this song so my typing should be pitch-perfect.

Sung in my best typing voice………with apologies to Oliver :-)

Consider yourself at home.
Consider yourself one of the family.
We've taken to you so strong.
It's clear we're going to get along.
Consider yourself well in
Consider yourself part to the furniture.
There isn't a lot to spare.
Who cares? Whatever we've going we share!

If it should chance to be
We should see
Some harder days
Empty larder days
Why grouse?
Always a-chance we'll meet
Somebody
To foot the bill
Then the drinks are on the house!
Consider yourself our mate.
We don't want to have no fuss,
For after some consideration, we can state...
Consider yourself
One of us!

All together on the Chorus now

Consider yourself at home.
Consider yourself one of the family.
We've taken to you so strong.
It's clear we're going to get along.
Consider yourself well in
Consider yourself part to the furniture.
There isn't a lot to spare.
Who cares? Whatever we've going we share!

And once more …………………with feeling

Consider yourself at home.
Consider yourself one of the family.
We've taken to you so strong.
It's clear we're going to get along.
Consider yourself well in
Consider yourself part to the furniture.
There isn't a lot to spare.
Who cares? Whatever we've going we share!

Aunty Dot, Uncle Doug, Mom Dad, welcome to my online world. Aunty Dot, know that you have been much in my thoughts. Let it be said again, in all sincerity welcome. It is nice to have you on board.

Gavin, Gloria, it is good to be in touch and welcome. I hope we can get together in real time and not just in Cyberspace

Tjaart, welkom. Die blog kort so ‘n bietjie Afrikaanse cultuur. (My spell checker just had a cadenza on that last sentence)

Sandy, again I say welcome. For you and others out there HNT outtakes are available on request ;-)

HNT, for those who want to know stands for Half Nekkid (sic) Thursdays. It was a web project, started with a basic guideline that you were to post a picture of yourself or someone you know. The picture does not have to include any nudity, and not all of mine do. It started as a bit of a lark, but grew into a popular web phenomenon. Rather eye opening was how many people it helped deal with and assortment of body/image issues. (I include myself there). For anyone who wants to know, the pictures featured on this blog are indeed of me.

To rest of the gang: Butterfly, Jane, Katt, Boet, M and a Pixie and a Troll or two. You are always welcome and thank you for just being there. For the record the Nome De Plumes are not just there to protect the innocent :-) . It’s a virtual world and people can be whomever they want to be. Captain-Equestria, did seem like a more likely superhero to me than Captain-Underpants.

Knowing my readership could now potentially include an older and respected generation, (mom and dad included) left me thinking would I censor what I post going forward. I could not do that. To do that would take away my integrity and leave me wretched.

Content here maybe be raw, risqué or contentious. It is what it is though, I will not change it. Any and all comments are welcome. If I will not censor myself, I will not censor you. This includes the older and respected generation. Anonymous commentary is also welcome.

So in wrapping this up, since I am actually been paid to work, not pander to an audience ;-) I am going to propose a virtual toast to one and all. Giving credit where it is due, I learnt this toast from my Boet. It should appeal to those of us who suffer from Gaelic Enchantment Syndrome.

So if you would please charge your glasses, cups of tea, cups of coffee, hip flask, and the energade bottle in the corner over there.

“Here’s to us
There’s min like us.
And the others are all dead.
SLANJOVA!”

*Insert your clinking sounds here.* I have no idea what “SLANJOVA!” means. It does sound grand to say it though, and the more you drink the grander it sounds.

You all take care of you.

Bits and bobs

First off , for my faithful readership of three , I just wanna shout out about a new read of mine.The Patriot. I would encourage you to go take a look and perhaps even comment. It is a brand new blog and will form part of a research project. I humbly ask that you spread the word please. :)

It seems I am way short of blog fodder these days. I wanted to create a post that was filled with astute wisdom, stunning wit and inspiring reading. However you will have to settle for the mindless ramblings of a mad man.

On Love, I thought after the last two years of my life I may be the ultimate love cynic. Turns out I still believe in love. Maybe not quite as I did before, but it can still leave one breathless and enchanted.

On Life, The salt mine has been keeping me exceedingly busy. I am not complaning though. I do love my job. What more can one ask for.

I cannot believe my eldest turned 14 yesterday. Happy birthday Kevin. I love you my boy. (even if you dont like having you picture taken)
You are a far cry from the four year old tyrant who murdered the garden because the plants were evil;-). I am proud of you.

In a follow on to my last post about riding a new young stallion for the first time, Ruark is an amazing horse to ride. One day I hope he stops trying to kill me :) I have learnt just how a horse can in fact buck and rear. He keeps me in a transitional relationship with my saddle. In laymans terms it means he has me trolling for paramedics. More simply put he has made me bite the dirt, following an airborne equitation display. Basically I fell off at the gallop. It hurt.

In other news, I have taken up playing the piano again, as well as the guitar. I predict my relationship with my neighbours may sour as a result. (except for the old dearie on the first floor, being hard of hearing and all). I like her , she thinks I am HOT. Of course she is around 86 in the shade and her sight is probably failing ;).

Best I get some work done.

You all take care now.

A handsome Beast

I wont say a lot here. He is a handsome beast of proud bearing. Meet Ruark the stallion. Saturday marks my first ride on him . I can't wait :).

Here he is kissing the girls. In this case the delectable Evil. Boys will be boys.

PS. If he looks a little wooly , its because he has his winter coat on.

Not living the unlived life.

It has been a week of contemplation for me. A lot of rambling thoughts. Questions with answers that pose more questions.

Somewhere in my mental meanderings I have come to some conclusions. Hopefully I can express them at least a little coherently here.

On the premise that we are born to die, I can only think of two biblical characters off hand who beat those odds. Assuming that perhaps the bible is perhaps a work of fiction or else completely misunderstood, it does not bode well. I am going to die like everybody else.

I have never been afraid of death until now, not death itself but rather the life I will live until I die. A life lived in fear, a life that becomes banal, uninteresting even to myself. For a few months I know I lost the plot completely and drew into myself. No More.

I will not live an unlived life.
I will not live in fear
of falling or catching fire.
I choose to inhabit my days,
to allow my living to open me,
to make me less afraid,
more accessible;
to loosen my heart
until it becomes a wing,
a torch, a promise.
I choose to risk my significance,
to love
so that which came to me as seed
goes to the next as blossom,
and that which came to me as blossom,
goes on as fruit.

Dawna Markova

To not live an unlived live I realise is to require an absolute freedom, not bound by the shackles of my past, nor the shackles of a grafted on morality.

I would rather live a life guided by that which sits deep within me. An honest life that is true to me and true to those around me.

Accepting a freedom like that is both excitng and terrifying. How much do the points of reference on a moral compass shift, when reliant on purely ones sense of self and who one is?

I may add to this post still. Blogger will not let me save it in draft.

A bit of fun................

Hey bloggy folk. I have a few posts I am toying with but am not ready to post, so in the mean time I figure I will give you something to look at.

Warning humour may get suspect in this blog. My mind warps a little when I am tired.

It's a fun meme. I am tempted to say if you are reading this consider yourself tagged :-)

Go to Wikipedia, and type in the month and day of your birth (no year). Then list 3 events, 2 birthdays and 1 death - I have added some commentry to my results since they seemed pertinent.

The Events
845 - Paris is sacked by Viking raiders, probably under Ragnar Lodbrok, who collects a huge ransom in exchange for leaving.
Whats pertinent here is actually the man who paid the ransom. "Charles the Bald". Looking at my hairline you will understand my affinity for the man.
1979 - British Prime Minister James Callaghan, is defeated by one vote in a Motion of No Confidence. This results in Parliament being dissolved in order to make way for a forthcoming General Election.
This one vote defeat paves the way for the Iron Lady Margaret Thatcher to come to power. Pertinent because in my distant youth I did Maggie Thatcher impersonations for my Grandmother's amusement. Now there is a scary thought ........LOL.

1994 - In South Africa, Zulus and African National Congress supporters battle in central Johannesburg, resulting in 18 deaths.
This particular event has a big impact on me. I was an eyewitness to this event. Seeing a man die being hacked to death with a panga (Farming implement with a large blade) less than ten metres from me has left some scars. The gun fire, the violence, and the terror of the people fleeing for their lives is etched deep within my mind. I was standing on Rissik Street locked out of my place of work, just a short run from Shell House where the massacre started.

Needless to say I did not celebrate my birthday that year. Remarkably just less than two weeks later South Africa turned the corner in its political strife and had it's first truly democratic election. It has been my privlege to have lived through some of this country's most monumental moments. By a twist of fate I was employed by an international news agency at the time and got to experience a lot of the buzz at very close range.

The Births
1613 - Xiaozhuangwen Grand Empress Dowager, Empress in Manchu
This is not pertinent at all. I just think it must suck to have a name like that.

1849 - James Darmesteter, French author and antiquarian
This is pertinent because like me he was well known for his really large uhm uh nevermind.......... Actually that last bit I just made up. This is actually pertinent because I dig old sh!t too ;-)

The Death
1987 - Maria von Trapp, Austrian-born singer
If you are not bursting into some sort of song now, I am bitterly dissapointed. The Sound of Music (1965 Version with Julie Andrews ) is one of my favourite movies. I watched it many times with my grandmother between Maggie Thatcher impersonations. ;-)

In one of those weird and unexplained ways, I have met a man in real life who I speak to frequently now, who was in fact intimately familiar with the Von Trapp family on who the movie was based. One of the first girls he ever dated in life was Gretl Von Trapp. (The little girl in the movie played by Kym Karath.)

By his first hand account Maria Von Trapp was a complete tyrant that in no way resembled the sweet Maria in the movie. Talk about killing my illusion.

In Parting I will offer a deep piece of dialogue from the movie.

Max: Friedrich, Gretl, why don't you sing?

Gretl: I can't, I've got a sore finger.

Maria: Gretl, what happened to your finger?

Gretl: It got caught.

Maria: Caught in what?

Gretl: Friedrich's teeth.

You all take care now peeps.

Oh My Consus - Where did you all come from?

Welcome. Just for the record Consus is according to some mythology the God of Horses. Horses don't buy into blasphemy. When they say, "Oh My Consus" it is really an acknowledgement of an awesome four legged creature. If in doubt ask a horse :-)

Hopefully there are more celebrants than mourners here. I will warn you this post may be dis-jointed at best, and completely non-sensical at worst.

Furzl was good for for the time in which he lived. Furzl was too much part of a Duo that is no more. He will always be a part of me so I wont remove every reference to him.

I opted to be Just Brian since its the one person I can always be sure of being. Hmmmmm, I think I am a potential candidate for treatment for Multiple Personality Disorder. lol.

Credit for Captain-Equestria goes to M. Thank You. Captain Equestria plays right up to the little boy inside me who wants to race around having adventures on a horse. Who knew I would grow up to want to play a cowboy? It's not a mid-life crisis, I promise.

I found time spent with horses to be very therapeutic. Even the ones that dump me on the ground, offer their own comfort. I have kept a journal documenting my time spent on horseback. Perhaps I will place some of that journal here sometime. I have not done so to now because it is kind of personal and deals with some of the demons inside.

Horses offer great therapy. They are very forgiving, make few demands and some will tell you when you full of sh!t. I dont think I have been the best company always for the last several months, but my battery of therapists don't seem to care. Star, Casper, Midnight, Klein Tequila, Buck and my boy Britannica (My Adventure Horse - The Horse I gallop in my dreams). Thanks guys and gal (Midnight is the gal in the crowd).

Here's to new and good things

Lost my coat of many colours and feeling naked

The mantle of a fairytale marriage

I wore a coat of many colours

The colour of a husband,

The father

The provider

The good son in law

The spiritual head

Tatters remain now,

Piece for piece, it had been stripped away.

Neither husband nor son in law

The provision not enough

Spiritually perhaps I will find a different god from the one I knew

I feel naked and tired.

one piece of coloured cloth remains

that of the father

perhaps faded in my childrens eyes

Stitching a new coat together from what remains

adding new colours I hope to find some vibrancy and identity

I know I cannot do it alone

The threads provided by a support system I stand in amazement of

From the East Rand to the Eastern Cape

From the West Rand to the posse who have never read this blog who span across to the Western United states

From the Northern Suburbs to the Netherlands.

To my Boet and M.

To my precious and fragile little ones.

I thank you all. It is good to know I have never walked alone.

Out of Africa

Elephants walking

Along the trails

Are holding hands

By holding tails. - Lenore M. Link

What an awesome way to wile away a Sunday Afternoon. My brother and his wonderful wife treated the little ones and I to a visit to an Elephant Sanctuary in the North West Province.

This pic of them was not taken on the trip but I just love it.

Touching and amazing only begins to describe how awesome these great big gentle giants are.

Having just spent a morning with kids roughing each other up (and getting annoyed by it), it was fun to watch how young elephants behave the same way, Momma Elephant too looked annoyed after a while.

Most amazing for me was to see the Children and how they reacted to the elephants.

Even my little chicken who is afraid of all creatures living fed touched and interacted with these gorgeous creatures, and babbled not stop about it for the hours drive home. She took a liking to a little gentleman named Temba in particular.

Of course feeding the dude was just a grand thing to do.

Liam absolutely loved the experience and even took Pumba for a stroll. It is truly amazing to watch a little man lead a 4 ton giant around. All it took was a cupped hand which the elephant holds on to.

Even my City Slicker Kevin got into the action, and told me what a great time he had. Driving anywhere out of town often has Kevin acting as if the very world will end so I was amazed to say the least. No I wont post his picture here. My boy would rather sacrfice limbs than have his picture taken.

For those who are inclined to tactile experiences touching the elephants was something amazing. The elephant truly is a myriad of textures, bumpy and rough on top, bumpy and soft on its belly, The skin behind its ears velvet like. The hair on its tail like very thick fishing line. Its tongue slick and wet and smoother than glass. Most amazing for me had to be the underside of its feet. Not the rough calloused pad you may imagine, but rather a smooth soft very finely textured sponge.

Intriguing to me are the stories of an elephants legendary memory.

One such tale related on this trip is of an elephant orphaned as a youngster. It was raised by hand and then re - released into the wild. 17 years after this fact it was injured in a fight with a Hippopotomus. The elephant suffered a large open wound on it's leg that required treatment. Elephants because of their size cannot be safely sedated and this one was in pain making it unapproachable to boot. Her original keeper was tracked down and after 17 years of running wild, her keeper approached her with a simple, "Hello, my girl". The elephant allowed the wound to be cleaned and treated by her handler with no resistance whatsoever. She still knew and trusted that person.

Every so often I am struck by being in the presence of some ancient wisdom far greater than I could hope to understand. It’s a feeling I very much associate with being African. If I am totally honest about it, something about these magnificent creatures touched me so intently I stood to the side hoping no one would notice my tears.

Of fun, farewells and seeping black loneliness.......

I had a good weekend if one removes the hours spent working.

My garden has been planted. Something I first grew to love in my bachelor days was rose trees. I started growing them in pots on the balconey of the little pad in which I used live. Well since I am on my own again and have a balconey it stands to reason I would again have a rose tree. Kevin, Marihanda, thank you for a bit of Black Magic.
.

Self indulgently I did go horse riding again on Sunday. Awesome ride on Casper, a horse with a stride that is just awesome. Cantering with Casper is a little like riding a rocking horse with wings.


On the farewell side I feel surprisingly heartsore to say goodbye to my feline friend who adopted me when I moved. It seems Frank has moved on. Every evening I feel a dull ache. I miss the little dude waiting for me when I arrive home with his friendly hello and playful paws. Farewell and Adieu Frank. I hope you found a greener pasture with lots of critters to chase. In your own feline way you made my first uncertain moments of a new life that much easier. I miss you dammit.
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Maybe the loss of Frank combined with having good weekends is making the week nights seem just a little to rough right now. I have found the last few nights to be very lonely. Not just for a lack of companionship but the physical presence of another person. Yes, I have friends and family I could go see, I cannot do that all the time though. Fuel Bills offer a big restraint for me right now. Anyway enough of that blues song pity party.

On the upside, my kiddies are all coming this weekend. I look forward to seeing them. :)

In other news just in I have borrowed a bicycle and hope to start cycling this evening.

Okay thats me in a nutshell

Punch Buggies and Hug Buggies.........

The kids have had a long standing game called Punch Buggy. The rules are simple the first person to spot a Volksie Beetle gets to thump the others with the words Punch Buggy, Nix. The nix been all important, since you don't wanna get thumped in return.

Of course it is not hard to imagine that sometimes the punches are a little too vigourous and the game can rapidly collapse into misery and tears. So after another game collapse a few weeks ago that ended in tears, I implemented a new rule in dad's car. Any child who plays Punch Buggy, would be would be the receipient of all kinds of punishment. No more punch buggies would be tolerated. The kids been resourceful and not wanting to give up on the competitive nature of the game, devised the all new and improved Hug Buggy. Every time a Volksie Beetle is spotted hugs are freely and vigourously dished out. Now that I do not mind been the receipient off.

When I feel like I need some cuddles from my kids I will be taking them past my new favourite car dealership. Victoria had her first trip there this weekend.

On Friday evening I took daddies little chicken (Victoria) to a Halloween bash held at her cousins Erin and Dylan's school. Mayhem and magic ensued for the Cat, the Vampire and the man with the gunshot wounds. Dylan was the perfect gentleman, and escorted Victoria through the cave of terror multiple times, ensuring that Victoria's cup of Hot Chocolate did not run empty. The adults, got to spend time sipping cocktails and smoking a cigar or two. A fine evening.
This is the view of Brixton around nightfall.

Saturday, Victoria and I spent at the swimming pool complete with a picnic lunch. A nice lazy day. Four and a half hours of swimming left at least one of us exhausted. I promised Victoria a nice roast with potatoes , pumpkin, vegetables and rice. I prepared the promised meal, unfortunately chicks was fast asleep long before dinner was served. I figured at least I have a nice lunch already prepared now for the next day An early night for both of us.

Early Sunday morning I was woken by a very hungry chicken. It seemed like a good idea to go and explore the new Argentinian Bakery that had opened up across the road within the last week. So pasteries in hand we took walk around the neighbourhood.
It was nice just walking, talking and listening to the birds and distant churchbells.

After our walk we took drive out to the Rosebank fleamarket. It was nice to walk around eating ice cream and looking at the stalls. Victoria was enchanted by all the esoteric stalls that had either fairies or crystals. Daddy's new age Chicken ;)

Our roasted lunch was yummy even if I do say so myself. The afternoon was spent at my brothers place, afterwhich I took my chicken home.

The hardest part for me about weekends with the kids,(be it one or all of them), is taking them home and saying goodbye on Sunday Evenings.

A few Sundowners at my Brothers place in the evening went down rather well and eased the moment. Thanks Guys

Overall a good weekend.

A weekend review

Sunday eve has arrived. Monday looms.

I can't complain. The weekend was really awesome. Realisng just how pretty the old Jacaranda tree was outside my bedroom window set the tone for the weekend.


I had the pleausure today to be invited to go horse riding on a game farm. Time on a horse is irresitable. Add to that a lot of open space with wild game roaming around and good company. The views from the koppies are astounding. I could not believe I was a mere 30 minute drive from home. Mindblowingly wonderful. Sheeeeeze does my ass hurt now though :)

Meet my closest companion for the Afternoon. A consumate gentleman if ever I met one. Star is one of the sweetest fellows you could meet. Highly adaptable and very accomodating for the inexperienced rider.

Aside from that, I had the pleasure of not one but two dinners in the company of my friend Stephen and his wife Denise. Thanks guys it was awesome. There is so much pleasure to be found in close company spending time listening to good music. A friendship that spans 25 years running to early grade school warrants a special mention. This friendship has been a constant in my life, and I know always will be. I hold that friendship sacred. Stephen, Happy Birthday for Monday Big Guy. I love ya Big Guy.


Just returned from a cup of coffee and some yummy choc chip scones , at my boetie and sussies place. (translates to my brother and his wife) . Kevin, Marihanda, thanks for your love, support and friendship. I am not gonna ramble here to long, coz I get kinda choked up. Just know I love you guys.

As if my weekend was not full enough I still need to mention a house warming I went too. In an effort to widen my social circle I have made some new friends. The evening was spent eating, drinking, chatting, laughing and in the midst of that a completely baffling card game called UNO. Okay you have probably all played the game before , but it was my first time, and my slightly slowed festive mind had some difficulty in grasping the finer nuances of what the hell was actually going on.

Lastly I want to mention a conversation I had that centers on writing. It left me with a lot of food for thought. I am of the belief all of us have a book in us somewhere. Not everyone will write a book and I suspect I am one of those. (Can I mention that I really hope that the other party to this conversation does.) I dont think I have the creative capacity to create fiction, nor the emotional capacity to write from life. It again begs the question for me, Why do you blog? I know for a period of time I did hoping for a few comments. Now I am not sure. I think it has a lot more to do with having a space that enables human contact, albeit in a virtual world. So why do you blog? (yes I have asked this before).

lol, and yes there were a lot of "I" statements in this post. My english teacher would shoot me.

Moving and meeting the neigbhours..............

Well it's been a few weeks now since I moved into my new place (flat or apartment depending where in the world you are from). Befriended my first Neighboour, or rather was adopted as a pet by Frank. Frank has the blue'est eyes I have ever seen on a cat. He declined to show them off for a photograph and who am I to argue. Here he is on my car. Sorry it's blurred but you get the idea.

Moving has taken some adjusment. I miss the ambient noise of the kids at night. Their sleepy little snuffles, mumbles snores and sometimes laughter in their sleep.

I do find I am struggling to find some kind of rythym when it comes to the domestic side of things. Still I figure if my bed is made and the dishes are done before I head out for the day I am doing alright.


The highlight for me since moving was having the kids over for the weekend. I was relieved to see them settle in an sleep well in a new environment. It was great to spend the time with them. We spent a lot of time playing cards. Who knew I could be an old maid so many times? :). I have opted not to have a television since there is nothing about a television that holds any lasting fascination for me. I was astounded to learn kids can fight over who is listening to what radio station though.

I have named their room the dormitory since they all sleep in straight line. There is something reminiscent for me about the story of the three bears here.


Notably Victoria has taken a liking to Frank, in a I enjoy the adrenalin rush when you come near me because I am scared of you kind of way. She often enquires after the health of Frank on the phone.

Anyway thats me in a nutshell for now.

Peace.

To my precious ones...............

Daddy is so sorry, I hope one day you can understand and forgive me.

Precious, penned by Martin Gore - Depeche Mode

Precious and fragile things
Need special handling
My God what have we done to You?

We always try to share
The tenderest of care
Now look what we have put You through...

Things get damaged
Things get broken
I thought we'd manage
But words left unspoken
Left us so brittle
There was so little left to give

Angels with silver wings
Shouldn't know suffering
I wish I could take the pain for you

If God has a master plan
That only He understands
I hope it's your eyes He's seeing through

Things get damaged
Things get broken
I thought we'd manage
But words left unspoken
Left us so brittle
There was so little left to give

I pray you learn to trust
Have faith in both of us
And keep room in your hearts for two

Things get damaged
Things get broken
I thought we'd manage
But words left unspoken
Left us so brittle
There was so little left to give