Eating the telly vision.

I started watching Come Dine With Me Abroad as a bit of a joke. Not a fan of the UK one anymore, I saw a few bookface posts about it and thought (as I do with most programmes about South Africa) that this one might have some scenery I could ooh and aaah over. (It has and I do)

So the first programme was like watching a car crash in slow motion. Oh no, actually it was worse than that. It was cringy and stereotypical and just plain horrific. But I looked through the planner and there were a few from Cape Town (which is ALWAYS easier on the eye than Jo'burg :-P) so I downloaded a few.

Fast forward to today.....and I have downloaded ALL available episodes and series linked the rest. I am hooked. It's a shortened version of the UK one so you don't get all the gumph about how the day has gone. You get shots of beautiful places and lots of chat.

Why am I hooked? Because, to put it plainly, I love the South African voice. I love how we have so many different accents. How when the guys say 'My man', I get a giggle. How 'beautiful' in a certain tone can be bitchy or complimentary. And how pretty the houses are. But mainly I just like the chat.

I don't think I ever had a true South African accent. For sure, I chameleon straight into one around 'my people' but "Ja dol, I don't forshore speak lekker laaik them okes".

I also like how I'm a true Capie and immediately dismiss the Jo'burg or Durban episodes as inferior to the Cape Town ones and how disappointed I am when the Cape Town folk aren't as nice as they should be. I'm DYING man, to see the PE episodes.

Weird, how when I was in South Africa (living there) I just thought Europe was so exotic and a place I NEEDED to be. And now, I yearn to have the SA lifestyle of socialising. In all seriousness, I couldn't cope, I would need five livers to be competent.

True Story.

My insides are beautiful - fact

I quite often have this. The urge to write - the need to put words somewhere but not a clue where to start. It's like a yearning for ice cream but not the flavour you want. So you stand in front of the freezer at the supermarket and see all the choices and you end up walking away. Strawberry, Chocolate, Neapolitan (such a favourite), Coffee, sorbet, frozen yoghurt. All so yummy.

That's it, I want to write, I don't know what to write.

If this was my diary (where are you diary? I've lost you for months), I could start with my thoughts and my head but it's not.
If I was feeling all emo - I could whinge a bit about how I'm getting sad about the 2 years passing of Nhandi (but also the whooohooo little A is nearly two). But I don't want to do that. I really really want to stop being sad about her. But I wish she were here today.

If I wanted to share, I could say I had a procedure done today and while I'm teary and a little bit in agony, I was super excited to see my insides. I love that we have the tech to be able to stick a tiny camera and look around our bodies. I guess it's the closest I'll get to Osmosis Jones (google it...was a fab kids programme/movie). And also very impressed that apparently my insides are super youthful - but I guess that's not really the thing you put on your c.v or tell the world. "Hello I'm Ali and my insides are BEAUTIFUL - reference: my doctor - she actually said that." It could get awkward. However, when people go on and on and on (and they do - on Facebook - a lot (it's painful)) about how the most beautiful people are *yawn* are the ones that are pretty on the inside - I can say, most truthfully, that yes, yes I am! HA! That'll stop those inspirational idiot posters in their tracks.

*maybe the painkilling drugs do work*

Where I am

I am here. In Southend. Watching tennis. And therein lies so many things I get and enjoy from TheBear. Road trips which I've always loved to do, and seeing new places, which is always fun. Watching sport which I've always enjoyed. 

It's like a little mini-break. 

I really enjoy driving to new places. Should have  been  a trucker. 

Spider Saga

Feeling absolutely traumatised. Imagine, you’re at your desk and finishing off a call, headset firmly planted into position. You feel a little tickle on your arm. You glance down and there he is – a spider the size of a house (or a 50p coin, it’s all relative) resting on your little wrist. You suddenly inherit the ability to fly backwards and upwards while shrieking – might have been similar to the sound bats make – sonic! 

Spider soars through the air –  destination unknown. 

The desire to strip off to shake off any other spiders is overwhelming. You realise at a crucial moment where you are. (only the cardigan had been removed and one boot)

I now feel itchy – like I have a million baby spiders crawling over every inch of me. 

Icky and itchy.

I need to lie down in my new bed.

(I appreciate this is slightly over dramatic)

Hic

One should never post under the influence. But as the thoughts are in my head, thus they must come out. 

I wish when I went to my bed...that I has a bear to cuddle. Not just any bear but THE bear, my fevrit one. 

Peter

Well, what a weird and surreal day it has been.

Today, we buried my brother. Seems beyond strange to type that. He is gone, really gone. And with things of this nature, you only realise it once you've said goodbye to all that came and you're at home reflecting on the day. My brother is not with us. I thought back to the last funeral (my nana's) and he was at that one.

I was proud of my dad - so proud. That he got through today with so much dignity. I was proud of my mom who sung the last song played when I didn't even know she knew it (she was the only one singing besides the singer. I was proud of my nephews, my son and even myself. I didn't go to pieces on the podium and I really thought I was going to such was the level of my shaking.

My sister in law - unbelievably lovely after so many years passed.

It was low key, it was a quiet do. It was Peter. You couldn't ask for more.

Peter - Go with peace and love and rest well.

Not sure who is going to tease me now.

Blood vs Water - The Battle that never was

They say (them again...who ARE they?) that blood is thicker than water. Well, I think in some cases my water is thicker than my blood.

And I've got some great water. Of course it takes a big event to know who your blood and water is. And some water has been rather tasteless and some blood has been severely diluted.

But back to the positives - the water that I've got is great. I didn't think I had such a great core of people who honestly care for me so much. And from the sources I didn't think possible.

I know when Nhandi died, I got so much support - from people/acquaintances that had gone through it or appreciated the bond Nhands and I had.

But with Peter, it's been a different story. It's been a hard line to take, to realise that people can be so wrapped up in their own bitterness that they can't or won't appreciate that they are not the only ones grieving. No matter, I shall stand up tomorrow and I shall say what my brother meant to me.

Back to the blood/water analogy. There are people in my life who I have known forever - my dad's best friend's girls. I've always seen them as family. They are not water, they never have been. Maybe it's shared history, maybe it's memories of times of immense hilarity that I've not had with other members of my family but whatever, Susan, Heather and Kate are family.

And then I go onto the Book of Face and there's a message on my wall from a woman who I know ever so slightly from an expat group I used to belong to....we aren't friends in the true sense of the word. But this woman, has taken time out of her day (and I know she's going through some tough times of her own) to wish me well and to say I'm in her prayers at this time. Things like that make my heart glow, they really do.

I count the 'water' in my life and realise having the 'blood' not being great, isn't that big a deal. That's just their way, it's not mine. I count the 'water' in my life and realise I want to keep them close.

I'm rubbish at this though... very much like my brother in this respect. I will make more effort. I must.

I'm getting better. I communicate more, although I don't think I'll ever manage to send Christmas cards. I know what I do... what I do is try not to impose. But people think you are offish then. However, I don't ever make a plan, I instead wait for others to include me in theirs. Maybe it's a rejection fear? I would hope it isn't.... I think it's the not wanting to be a pain in the arse. Now that I know this, I should maybe not give a shit as much.

May I come around?
Shall I bring a bottle?
Oh can I join in?

Things I don't say often, but maybe should.

HA! I've done something I've not in a while, started a blog about one thing, ended up on another.

It goes without saying that T_B, as well as making epic road trips bearable, has also become a fabulous pint of water.

I speak Whale

Things I can't wait to do....

Wail at a whale in Wales

Yup, feeling kind of excited at the prospect of a weekend elsewhere than here. It's been a funky old couple of weeks. Real crap with real good thrown in. But this weekend is needed for all. A de-stresser, a long drive with ace music and fabulous company, great food, seeing new things. I just cannot wait. To get away.

BUT I haven't packed. And what do you pack for the country that gets confused around this time of year, weather wise? It's sunny, it's warm, then 5 minutes later HELLO Winter and all it's icy glory!

I know next Wednesday is going to be harsh and hard and teary. So this weekend, I'm going to be silly and sexy and stuff!

Set in words, therefore law 132.4