Jaggy Pokkies

I was lying in bed last night remembering living in Scotland and all our animated family there. I was remembering the feeling of the happiness and humour of being part of a big family. Here’s a recollection which my sister will appreciate:

My Aunt Jan and Uncle Robert got married really young and she wasn’t the most domesticated goddess under the sun, in fact, she was pretty useless in the kitchen and even more hopeless at homemade crafts – but hell, did she try really hard!

When we still lived in Scotland, every Christmas my sister and I used to get showered by gifts by all our family. I mean TOTALLY spoiled. We used to spend half the day opening gifts!

Just to give you a bit of background, we have quite an extensive extended family in Scotland too. My dad is a family of four siblings and my mum is from a family of 6 siblings. Hence, we had 10 aunties and uncles who spoiled us broken at Christmas time (that’s not including grandparents and cousins).

Anyway back to Aunt Jan…because she married my Uncle Robert so young, they really didn’t have much money and so when Christmas time came she spend countless hours making everyone homemade gifts and, bless her, they weren’t really, well lets put it this way…you used it or wore it once and then it accidentally fell into the back of your cupboard and was never seen again.

One year, Aunt Jan decided to knit my sister and me pokkies (you would probably know them as mittens). Well, let’s say she must’ve bought the wool at the local 50p bargain bin store because the wool was a mucky grin blue colour that felt and looked more like steel wool. Aw, her heart was in the right place. She’d even embroidered teeny weeny yellow and white flowers and a leaf on the top side on the pokkies. Not only that, she even used to make her own homemade Christmas wrapping paper and tie it with pretty ribbon. So you understand - a lot of effort went into these gifts.

So, we opened her pokkies on Christmas morning and tried them on. One hand fitted beautifully and the other hand’s thumb was sticking straight up in the air. Och, bless her, Aunt Jan had gotten the pattern wrong and knitted two mittens but they were the same hand! Two right hands. This meant that the pretty embroidery was on the top of the right hand and on the palm side of the left hand (the only way you could wear them to make the thumbs fit). We still wore them.

This wasn’t the only gifts Aunt Jan made us that were crooked or mismatched…one year we got little knitted waist coats which were actually dead cute - however, the buttons didn’t match up with the button holes and one side was longer than the other. Another year we got knitted jumpers (jerseys) with Santa on the front and one sleeve was longer than the other and slipped stitches magically appeared when you put it on.

This moral of the story is…who cares what the gift is or what it looks like or even if its a little lopsided – she spent her time and effort making these wonderful gifts that contained truck loads of love. She thought of us when she made these gifts.

I miss getting gifts like this. I don’t mean gifts that you throw in the cupboard and hopefully never see again. I’m talking about gifts that someone has put their heart and soul into. It is so easy these days to go to the store and buy something last minute and not put any thought whatsoever into it. Its so impersonal. I’d rather receive Aunt Jan’s jaggy pokkies any day.

I only wish I’d kept those pokey pokkies as a treasured possession. They were so unique and so very special. Thanks Aunt Jan!

"Life is too short for materialism, arguments, drama, nonsense things - so kiss slowly, laugh insanely, love truly and forgive quickly.... and for heavens sake, smile, it doesn't cost a cent."

Gran was a Genius!

I read this morning that what we see depends mainly on what we look for.

What do you see?

This made me think about my post yesterday about feeling terribly ugly and old. Am I only looking for the fact that I'm heading towards forty rather rapidly and that when you're forty you're middle-aged and meant to look and feel old and ugly and get sick?

I'm not sure if this theory is completely convincing though. However, it has given me food for thought for the day.

Then I had some more advice this morning (from my boss, nog al) she said :

• Make sure you get your daily dose of fruit and veggies
• Take your vitamins and bump up your vitamin C so you don't get sick
• Get plenty of exercise because exercise builds the immune system
• Walk for at least an hour every day
• Go for a swim
• Take the stairs instead of the lift
• Wash your hands often or buy a tube of hand sanitizer
• Get lots of fresh air - open your windows
• Try to eliminate stress
• Get lots of sleep and rest

or

Take the doctor's approach...

Now think carefully about this...

When you go for a shot, what does the doc do first? They rub your arm with alcohol...

Why ??? Because Alcohol KILLS GERMS..

So...... I will walk to the bottle store (exercise), I will put lemon in my Savannah (fruit), Celery in my Bloody Mary (veggies), Drink it outdoors on the patio (fresh air), Tell jokes, laugh with friends (eliminate stress), Then pass out (rest)

The way I see it...

If you keep your alcohol levels up flu germs and old age can't get you!

Then I remember one of my gran's old sayings: 'A shot in the glass is better than one in the arse!'

Gran was a genius!

Dino Day

Megan went to school this morning with her face painted.
She wanted to put a dinosaur on her face and I came up with this. She was dead chuffed.

Roaring with open mouth.

The inevitable

I am 36.63 years old today.

Thats 440 months old.

or 1910 weeks old

I've been alive 13371 days.

Thats 320 892 hours!

19 253 525 minutes!!!

I have come to the realisation that I'm getting old and wrinkley incredibly quickly. I've studied the reflection in the mirror looking back at me and I've considered botox, liposuction, teeth whitening, cutting my long red hair into style more fitting a woman my age and let me tell you, the bags under my eyes have turned into maxi-suitcases.

Even though I try to get enough sleep at night, drink loads of water and eat balances meals (like Cosmo tells us), I still have the horrid-hate relationship of catching a side-ways glance at my silloette while I pass by a shop window and I don't recognise the woman there.

The decades have flown by and two children later, I'm feeling a little cheated by my inherited genes. Why couldn't I get my mother's "skinny" genes? She's been a size 6 all her life and can still fit into her teeny weeny wedding dress - 45 years later.

I've always had to watch what I eat, battled with my weight, yo-yo dieted and tried to exercise and stay healthy. I could never just EAT what I want and stay thin. My metabolism is my nastiest enemy. Look, I never been skinny at ANY point during my life even when I was eating like a bird and it urks me that my mum has NEVER been on a diet during her entire existence! She doesn't know what an eating plan LOOKS like! Surely a girl should inherite all the good qualities a mother can possibly pass on...

Hell, I've even hidden chocolates in such a secret place that I couldn't even find them (even though I am CLEARLY I am a chocoholic). My friends will positively confirm this.

My weight loss programme doesn't work like it used to and my body is rapidly heading south despite the many hours at the gym and running on the treadmill like a rabid gerbal in her wheel.

I often wonder how my husband notices the changes. What does he REALLY think of how I've changes over the years. Will he still love the old, wrinkled Gillian? Does he see the orange peel arse, flabby saggy tummy and bulging hips. Does he see the increasing deep lines on my face? How do my girls see me? Do they think I'm not as pretty as the other mum's they see at school? Do they see me as fat? Do they consider me an old fart?

I find myself walking sideways like a crab with my arse pointed towards the security of the wall so that my husband doesn't get totally grossed out by my hail damage. I suck in my stomach and angel myself lying on my back in bed so he doesn't feel my fat rolls. I find myself keeping my towel tightly tucked on until the very last second before getting in or out the bath. I don't even own a bikini anymore and board shorts are my best friend.

I detest going into the local departments stores now-a-days as it gives you a completely HONEST angel of every part of your body. I always get depressed when trying something on at the shops and now I'll buy something and take it home and fit it there. 8 times out of 10 I have to take it back at least twice before I find the right fit *sigh*.

Gone are the days where I could pick up a cute fashion item in a size 10, pay for it, get it home and it would fit like a glove. All smiles. Now, I have to hold my breath, suck it in, squeeze and shoe-horn myself into certain brands and labels that used to be old favourites. Hmmmm its depressing...

I don't like to be in front of the camera anymore either. I dread looking at pictures at myself as a scrutinise everything about myself and find so many horrid faults. All I can say is thank goodness for digital and the delete button. I'd hate to spend all my hard earned Rands on developing crappy pictures of me looking decidedly chubby, old and flushed.

Will I ever find peace within my own skin?

Miss and Master Valentine

Megan's school hold an annual event for the Grade R pupils. Miss and Master Valentine.

Children must wear their favourite Valentine outfit and model for the school.

Parents are welcome to join and support their children. The event is at 10h00 in the morning.

I know for sure Megan will NOT wear any pretty dresses or fancy pink bows in her hair, etc. But I'll go along to support her - she wants to wear her "sparkley Spiderman T-shirt". Only my Megan...

Will post pix soon of this upcoming event in my tomboys life...

Some of The History

Legend has it that Valentine was a priest who served during third century Rome. There was an Emperor at that time by the name of Claudius II. Emperor Claudius II decided that single men made better soldiers than those that were married. With this thought in mind he outlawed marriage for young men in hopes of building a stronger military base. Supposedly, Valentine, decided this decree just wasn't fair and chose to marry young couples secretly. When Emperor Claudius II found out about Valentine's actions he had him put to death.

Another legend has it that Valentine was an imprisoned man who fell in love with his jailor's daughter. Before he was put to death he sent the first 'valentine' himself when he wrote her a letter and signed it 'Your Valentine', words still used on cards today.

Perhaps we'll never know the true identity and story behind the man named St. Valentine, but this much is for sure...February has been the month to celebrate love for a long time, dating clear back to the Middle Ages. In fact, Valentines ranks second only to Christmas in number of greeting cards sent.

Another valentine gentleman you may be wondering about is Cupid (Latin cupido, "desire"). In Roman mythology Cupid is the son of Venus, goddess of love. His counterpart in Greek mythology is Eros, god of love. Cupid is often said to be a mischievous boy who goes around wounding both gods and humans with his arrows, causing them to fall in love.