The Dassie

I sat on the rooftop watching the night sky without seeing a star. I sat staring out the window of the moving van, missing all the wonders of the world that travelled by me. I sat crumpled on cold boulders waiting for the tears to come and willing the ocean’s power to absolve my aches. I sat and sat and sat.

The day before we left, I had made a phone call across the oceans, that was inspired by dreams of home. That phone call stole my breath away, as my not-forgotten mate had been heavy on my mind. The receiver had burned in my grip, as a picture was painted of my lover in another’s arms. The phone had seemed to jump from my hand and swung loosely, as my feet lead me away into the night. Anger swarmed me from all sides, but I walked out of its grip. Where I walked, I do not know. My lack of excitement at exploring this new land matched the gray horizons that I woke to. I had no heart to move forward and be, so just sat staring at the world around me through glazed eyes. On one hand, I had expected something like this, but on another I was shocked still. The days that had passed had presented me with offers. I had battled away from them, not sure where I was leading my travelling heart. Now it seemed obvious that I had orchestrated this all along, and I wondered what direction I was to move in next. Africa held my heart excitedly in its grip and beckoned me to stay today, tomorrow and forever more. I was numb. I let the world come and present to me what it would. It did not disappoint. A misty morning found some friends to keep me company on my last day in Mossel Bay before heading off down the coast to Jeffery’s Bay.

Dassie

Hello furry friends.

You come to smile at me.

You see a tear

Hang in my eye

“Pray disappear,”

I hear you cry.

But I must leave.

The porridge calls

And tea so cold

Will never go.

But blessed be you

For coming by.

You heard me sob.

You heard me cry.

I needed a friend

And this you knew.

The morning starts.

I say goodbye,

But I’ll hold you dear

For the silent hug of mine.

Go well.

Stay well.

Flat Tuesday

One
flat tire in the rain
with a spare that refuses release
by my hand or tow truck driver's might,
Equals a late dinner
and grumpier face than the one that looked out
on the wet and rainy day that was Tuesday.
Subsequently, means a change in plans
to another wet and rainy day
called Wednesday.
Lame month
So far.



spread your wings award
A lovely thing from Jingle, that I offer you to share.

Honours for me that I show off proudly!

    Princess Award

 Gratitude with Attitude

Butterfly Mom Award

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All of these awards put a huge smile on my face. They are from Jingle, who just received the book I sent her from my contest. I am truly blown away by her constant chipper attitude and the support that she lauds on everyone she meets. I am truly thrilled and honoured to receive these special awards just for me and also take the awards below that are offered to all. Thank you, thank you Jingle for making everyone feel so special and loved. I needed those mental hugs you offered today. Bless you.

Fly away

Cape Town faded into the distance behind us. Mossel Bay was the destination point for us to lay our heads for the night. It seemed dream-like to be sitting in the little baby blue kombi travelling in South Africa. I had not imagined anything as perfect as this when I dreamed up a trip to my Father’s homeland so many months ago. Now I was part-owner of this precious van that we had made ours by going so far as to stitch our own curtains. The van even got a name, as was befitting such a quaint vehicle as this. “Arnie” became ours on January 8^th. He was named after the man we bought it from. He was a right proper Afrikaaner by the name of Arnold. He had taken good care of the kombi and now it was ours to explore in. The country lay in wait for our meandering ways.

We spent our last days in Cape Town amassing implements to aid us on our journey. The local market provided us with such things as a stove, tent, pots and pans, plates, bowls, cutlery and of course food. I had left my uncle’s home shortly after Christmas to house-sit for a friend of my cousin’s. I relaxed into solitude, but not for long. That was followed by a move into a hostel in Cape Town to make the night life more accessible. This I took advantage of. It was there that I met Miki’s friend Brett, who flew in from Australia. We went to a rave New Year’s Eve and became instant inseparable friends. Over many a drink, we concocted the plan of taking South Africa by storm behind the wheel of our own vehicle. It all fell into place perfectly and now the waves of the Atlantic Ocean gave way to the Indian Ocean. Whatever excess baggage I had was left behind at my uncle’s. I was free. Free to be me and go wherever the wind blew me. I had new friends by my side who fuelled my excitement at life’s turn. Sunshine warmed my cheek, as I bent my head to write tales of my voyage thus far in my trusty journal. I had stepped onto a new path and my old history was no more than a whisper in the back of my mind. “Fly away” was all I heard in the cavernous echo of my head, as ripe tomorrows peeked through the windshield in front of us. Brett, Miki, her brother and I were on a date with destiny. In all its corniness, it was infinitely true. The tomorrows to come would hold experiences to fill a jealous bird’s lifetime. Yesterday disappeared in a little puff of smoke out the back of a brilliantly blue kombi. We were set on an unknown path down the N2 highway of South Africa.

 

Circle of Friends

Just going to share a video today. Listened to the song on the way home in the car and it resonated with me. I like Edie. Happy Mothering Day