A pointless blog

I was reading some arb tripe about 'Your South African Girl'... or something like that. It was a little wishy washy and while it had some good points like always wanting to be barefoot, it wasn't me...

Anyway, it got me to think. How am I different to the girls I see around me? Am I a South African girl? And I think I am. I think the years I grew up there have made me a different breed.

I do like to be barefoot as much as possible - or in flip flops. I don't know how to do make up and hair in a 'girl' fashion - I actually wish I did know this bit. But make up was never very important growing up. When I became a teenager, I was all about the beach or swimming pool so hair was something that needed to 'wash 'n go' - as long as you knew how to do a plait, you were sorted. Eyeliner and mascara and lip gloss was the most you wore in make up. Oh I know I was the exception - all my friends wore foundation but with freckles, it was a pointless exercise so I didn't bother.

Nope, I was all about a pair of board shorts, a tee, some sandals and a perm that bounced back, lip gloss and a towel. I was ready to go. And that's not changed. Yes, I LOVE sparkle, I love a new dress, I like dressing up. I'm a girl for'shore but I'm also not fussed too much.

So in a way, this South African girl is able to converse well with others, hold down a sporty conversation, be ready in ten minutes (if I know what I'm wearing), rough it but be girly as well.

I think that does make me different to those I see around me. I like being a little different. But it does make me a tad frustrated. If you're cold, put on a jumper... who gives a shit if it doesn't go with your outfit - unless you're going out/out and then of course co-ordinate your stuff.

I like that I'm relaxed about the small stuff but passionate about the things that are important. Hmmmm and as I'm reading this back, I'm thinking I'm a contradiction.

As a SA 'chick', I think you have to be all those things... able to watch/talk about sport, be able to do a braai and yet be a girl too. SA girls are chameleons?

Reading 2015

I've done my first big UK festival. Reading 2015. And it was epic, it rocked and all other superlatives. 

I'll admit to being shit scared before we left. I'm not renowned for my camping skills. And I have cried over a public toilet in my past (Eltham train station). So a person could understand my trepidation. 

But it was brilliant. 

So much goes on that its impossible to see every little bit that you want. But you have to ride with that. And suck it up a bit that not everyone wants to see what you do and majority wins out. 

Yes, I am proud of me. I displayed zero "only child" attributes. I looked at the campsite toilets, gagged a little and then gave myself a pep talk and dived right it. Well no, to dive into those toilets (basic word for cesspool), would be stupid, suicidal and silly. Actually, I used skills, I went to the one the cleaners hung out by. It was always awash with the blue stuff they used. 

The camping side was actually fantastic....I must have had some dire experiences before to have dreaded it. Or maybe I just went with the right bear. Who made it all really enjoyable. Who set up the tent inside so that we were snug as bugs. I also realised that sending CG to scouts was a big plus. Money well worth spent as he was so gung-ho with the carrying of heavies and putting up of tents. Brilliant stuff. 

And then the music. Awesome. Words almost can't do it justice. The buzz and electricity of live music, in a field. To dance like no one was watching, to jump like a kangaroo to tunes you've never heard of. Be stunned by new bands and be inspired by ones you've loved for a while. To indulge and laugh with people you adore. 

Yes this as my first UK festival was an epic induction. I want to go again, I want to go yesterday!! Tomorrow! 

I almost can't believe I saw Metallica. If you had told me as a 14 year old that I would, I would have said "nooit man, there's no way". It's just that they're such an huge band....some little hip hop fan might say they are too polished, but I'd say they were bear perfect. 

Bucket list has been ticked off. 

I do love the vibe of a festival - this being only my second one. The bonhomie of strangers, the dancing in a field, wearing floaty stuff and feeling so good about life in general. It's like most of the rules we live by in "normal" land just disappear for a few days. Almost anything goes. Talking shit by a fire, queuing for fresh water, sleeping in a bag. It's primal but it's fabulous! 

Things I will remember forever 

* Finding the perfect campsite. 

* Listening to teenagers and giggling with TB about it 

* That bowl of fruit from Starbucks which was so juicy and real. 

* Standing with TB behind me during Mumford and friends and dancing slowly

* sunrises and sunsets 

* so much more. 

* lying in the tent, hearing the world outside and just 'being' 
* the music - the 'live'ness

Reading2015 you rocked my funky socks off. 

Rocking with mushiness.

I don't want to be gushy and mushy but I have to get this out. TB rocks. 

And I guess this is a awwww post but it needs to be put down. 

I've written a piece but it's not ready for a blog appearance. However, as I was writing it, a few things occurred to me. 

I could not have gone to Reading with anyone else. It also occurred to me that I am all "me" at this moment in time and TB lets me be that. There are no expectations on me to be anything other than who I want to be. When I'm tired/sad/meh he gets that without me saying a word and moves me to a better place. Either with a song, a giggle or a touch. And all is right in the world. When I'm goofy, jokey, smiley and happy, he goofs along with me. That in essence, is all I need. 

I have itchy feet, sometimes I need to escape here. And he gets that and we do. He's a doer and I'm a dreamer and maybe that's why it is so nice. 

Life can't be roses and skipping through rainbows all the time and I accept that. And I accept that there will be frustrations and not always excitement. But I also accept that this thing we are doing, makes me smile inside. Hearing dreams and aspirations to make them reality, make me want to make it all right in the house and his world. 

I got an infection at Reading, it was painful and frustrating and a pain in the arse. I was frustrated with me, I was so conscious of trying not to moan and ruining everyone's weekend. And if I was annoyed with my body, I was certain  it was a pain for TB. DId he bitch? Did he shout? Hell no. He was quite possibly the most concerned and considerate person he could have been. Grateful? I am. Beyond a doubt. In that moment, I thought, you are lucky....you have a best friend, a lover, who only wants you to be you, who only wants success. 

And isn't that fortune favouring me well? 

I know this blog will be read, and I hope it will gather a smile. 

Less than two

In two weeks time I can go all mystic and predict I shall be raging the shit out of my wellies (thank goodness I'm not writing that in Word!). 

Metallica will be playing, and I will be shuffling my arse off, shaking my thing. 

Excited much? I guess I am. 

The dreams have stopped where I'm lost and everyone is back stage. I think that's because I have a list and I've seen the map. Things that made me happy....a list does that. Clears my head. Puts things in order. 

My first English festival. I know I'll be making awesome memories. 

Bring. It. On. 

Gaslight, Metallica and others - I'm a-coming to appreciate your talent. Bring your best. 

Monkeys.

TB asked me about The World of Birds. As always when I mention the place, I rant on about the stupid squirrel monkeys. And I know everyone loves them and they're so gosh darn cute etc. 

but they aren't. They're horrible little biting creatures. I've been there twice as an "adult" and every time I've gritted my teeth coming near them. Transformed into a child who got bitten. 

And I know it was my fault, I know my finger stuck into their face, seemed to them like a tasty morsel. However, my petulant attitude comes from the fact that I got zero sympathy from my family. Zilch. No, I got, in the way of my family a telling off and much hysterical giggles. I was hoping my Nana with her clean freak ways (This was a lady who washed her dogs paws after a walk and brushed it's teeth) would think of the germs monkeys have and rush me off for medical attention. I didn't even get a tetanus shot. I still have the scar - mental as well as physical clearly. 

Nope the poor monkey got the attention and extra treats. 

I'm still bitter. 

;-) 

Dreaming kuk

Like when tony soprano has his dreams about Pussy being a traitor, I wonder if in real life, my life, my dreams are doing the same. 

Or maybe it's just my own projection on things? 

If I chose I could be that person. I could read into things and feel like a doos. Be like a doos.  I choose the opposite. 

Old Pines

I've blogged about how music transports me. The song below is no exception (and of course now I'm wondering if I've done this before). This came on my spotify earlier and instantly I was back to another place. I had heard this song before but it was playing as CG and I left Knysna nearly two years ago. After we had spent a week in PE. PE is special to me. Ja, it doesn't have the family, the vibe, the history of Cape Town but it has where I was happy. It has a part of me. My heart? It holds something special. And I was able to share that with CG. Two years ago I said my farewell to Nhandi, I showed CG where I began, my memories. So yes the song below is poignant. It doesn't make me sad. It recalls to my mind, the early morning sun hitting the lagoon, the fresh smell of life starting a new day. starting another road trip. Making fresh memories for my son to take into his life. I don't know, it's a song. But it conjures up good times. 

I am a little emotional today but not in a "hark at the past". I'm a little sad that tomorrow everyone gathers at Liz and I don't. But also I'm a little jealous. I'm not emotionally sad, I'm just remembering why we had to gather in that way. I do miss my Nhandi in a way I never envisaged. I don't think that will diminish. 

I'm rather happy though. And that's why I post this song....to show the happy and share the memory. 

Aaah I'm guessing this blog makes no sense....I blame the phone, when you scroll you can't see what you've typed, so it just becomes a ramble of my brain. The very innards of my head. 

"Old Pine"

Hot sand on toes, cold sand in sleeping bags, 

I've come to know that memories

Were the best things you ever had

The summer shone beat down on bony backs

So far from home where the ocean stood 

Down dust and pine cone tracks

We slept like dogs down by the fire side

Awoke to the fog all around us 

The boom of summer time

[Chorus]

We stood

Steady as the stars in the woods

So happy-hearted

And the warmth rang true inside these bones

As the old pine fell we sang

Just to bless the morning.

Hot sand on toes, cold sand in sleeping bags, 

I've come to know the friends around you

Are all you'll always have

Smoke in my lungs, or the echoed stone 

Careless and young, free as the birds that fly

With weightless souls now.

[Chorus x2]

We stood

Steady as the stars in the woods

So happy-hearted

And the warmth rang true inside these bones

We stood

Steady as the stars in the woods

So happy-hearted

And the warmth rang true inside these bones

As the old pine fell we sang

Just to bless the morning.

We grow, grow, steady as the morning

We grow, grow, older still

We grow, grow, happy as a new dawn

We grow, grow, older still

We grow, grow, steady as the flowers

We grow, grow, older still

We grow, grow, happy as a new dawn

We grow, grow, older still