Tannemys (Ilse Salzwedel)

Got this from my pal, a GP, nogal. Very informative (for males and females.) All you wanted to know, but was too shy to ask.

And this is how it works:

Pas gekry van Sophia Kapp. Weet nie wie dit uitgedink het nie, maar dis 100% in die kol. Dit verklaar natuurlik hoekom geleerdes meen ons kom van verskillende planete af. Want kyk hoe verskillend interpreteer mans en vroue die die volgende: 1. WATSENAAMS Vroulik…… Enigiets onder ‘n kar se enjinkap. Manlik….. Die ding waarmee ‘n bra vasgemaak word. 2. KWESBAAR Vroulik…. As jy jouself emosioneel teenoor iemand anders openbaar. Manlik…. As jy krieket speel sonder ‘n boks. 3. KOMMUNIKASIE Vroulik… Om onvoorwaardelik jou gevoelens met jou metgesel te deel. Manlik… ‘n Nota op die yskas voordat jy uitgaan saam met die boys. 4. COMMITMENT Vroulik…. ‘n Behoefte om te trou en ‘n gesin te he. Manlik …… Om nie ander girls te chaaf op ‘n date nie. 5. VERMAAK Vroulik…. ‘n Goeie fliek, konsert, opvoering of boek. Manlik……. Enigiets wat mens kan doen met ‘n blik of ‘n glas in die een hand. 6. FLATULENSIE Vroulik…. ‘n Embarrasserende newe-effek van slegte spysvertering. Manlik…… ‘n Oneindige bron van vermaak, veral tydens male bonding. 7. LIEFDEMAAK Vroulik…… Die toppunt van intimiteit tussen twee mense. Manlik……. Noem dit wat jy wil, solank ons dit net doen. 8. AFSTANDBEHEER Vroulik …. ‘n Toestel om na ‘n ander TV-kanaal te verander. Manlik ….. ‘n Toestel om in 5 minute deur 85 TV-kanale te scan. 9. VOORUITBEPLANNING Vroulik …. Haal die wasgoed af voordat dit begin reen. Manlik ….. Koop twee kaste bier voor die langnaweek begin. 10. ‘N ROMANTIESE AAND Vroulik …. Kersligete, sjampanje, agtergrondmusiek, kaggelvuur, skuimbad. Manlik ….

If you’re anything near normal, you don’t like being at work right now. Hopefully the following cartoons will put you in a good mood for the rest of today.

Taken in the nursery at Na’ankuse Lodge (see my previous post). If I can choose any job in the world, this would be it. I think this little one is called Bakkies, and he is just 3 months old and REALLY curious about humans. Here he is inspecting my lashes – those spidery things surrounding those funny blue-and-white peculiarly human eyes . (Why doesn’t she have dark brown round-as-a-marble baboon eyes, hey Mom?)

My “bestest bestest” favourite would be the Vet-series written by James Herriot. Reading about his days as country vet in Yorkshire when I was about 12 years old, cemented a love for reading AND animals. I have since re-read it a couple of times, and two years ago bought The Complete James Herriot (PAN, ISBN 0-330-44726-2) to ensure that my two little ones can also someday have the pleasure of this man’s unequaled descriptions of animals as man’s best friend.

Of course I read some of Gerald Durrell’s work. But then, I read most of the non-fictional tales (and tails) featured in the various public libraries I’ve visited over the last few years. There was a book about a cat who converted a tough old journalist from cat-hater to cat-adorer that springs to mind. (I think it was The Cat who Travelled). There were books on Emma, the black Labrador who was a guidedog. (Her owner recounted vividly how Emma changed her life.) There were books on delightful Siamese cats and their eccentric owners… 

In Afrikaans I remember reading PJ Schoeman’s “Op die klein spoortjies”. I reckon it would count as a modern day fable, set in the Kalahari. The characters are typical SA-thingies like a meerkat, a “geelstertmuishond”, etc, and a little boy. that. I was about 9 years old when my sister, who was already at varsity, gave me the book. And it FASCINATED me so much that I can still remember some of the drawings.

And how can I forget W.A. Hickey’s “Voetvolk van die Bosveld”? This lively tale of a baboon-family was a radio-story, and my mother bought me the book when I was about 10. Still have it on my bookshelf. And I still LOVE baboons. Recently spent a weekend with the lady from the Golf ad (the one with Lucky the 3-legged leopard), and the most unforgetable part of my weekend was the hour or three we spent with the baby baboons. (I’ll tell you when the article on this lovely place called Na’ankuse appears in print.)

And who can forget Joy Adamson’s Born Free? I actually read all her books, and never saw the films.

I read to escape from the real world, yet I can read endless true stories of animals. No need to wrap it in fancy little fictional disguises – give it to me straight.

Animals have a sense of humour, and they don’t judge. They help if they can, entertain if they want to, and love unconditionally. No wonder people include them in their writing, fictional or otherwise.

(And no wonder I own 6 dogs, 3 cats, a talking African Grey parrot, a budgie and a talking kokketiel. Or shall I say I am owned by 3 cats?)

It seems Blogland is waking up from the Sunday afternoon nap. Just in time to plan your exercise routine for the week ahead. But NOT before you had a look at this very valuable tips regarding exercise… In case you were wondering: yep, I follow my own advice ALL the time!

Here’s some advice

It seems this guy has the same problem…

Come on, be honest for a change! I tend to be a little deur-die-blare, but accepted it as part of being creative and disorganised and extremely busy between Oupa and work and two young children and seven dogs and three cats… (Do I need to spell it out?)

Earlier this year the beloved treated me to a holiday in Ireland, and I rushed around like a headless cockroach to get everything done, sending off articles to editors at the last minute, packing, stocking the cupboards for Oupa and his nurses, etc.

Did some last minute shopping for the kids who outgrew all their warm clothes overnight (I kid you not!)

Saw a thingy from the post office to say that I have a parcel waiting to be collected. Went there, and as our little post office-branch is inside a Spar (a Gauteng thing, or is it the norm elsewhere?) I remembered about a few VERY-last-minute essentials.

When I got into my car, I immediately apologised to the kids for taking longer than expected – just to be greeted by a deafening silence.

“Right, you little buggers, you crawled through to the boot just to scare the daylights out of me, haven’t you. Well, let’s see who will be scared now” I thought as I started the car. “I’ll just drive off as if this happens every day. You’ll be crawling out of there screaming in a second…”

But nothing happened.

“Oh, you are being brave today, aren’t you. Well, let’s see what happens if I open the boot and it flies open above you”, I thought. And then did just that: opened the boot from the inside.

Deafening silence once again. No screaming children. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

“Hmmm, gutsy little things,” I thought. “To play me like this without making a noise!”

I stopped and got out to close the boot.

To be greeted by an empty boot…

My heart almost stopped. I lost my children!! And just a week before that I had an attorney’s letter delivered to the ex to warn him that his not looking after the children well enough when they are with him. (And believe me,  I am not one of those ex-wives who do this regularly or unprovoked.)

But here I am, the model-mum, loosing my children in Spar!! Plus I’ve got a plane to catch!

To get back into Spar’s parking area, I had to go around the block.

And halfway around, it hit me: I never brought the kids with. I dropped them off at home before going to the post office…