Mango Delivery

As I left the hostel behind, I swung my pack onto my back for the last time on the road. Keetmanshoop was a small town and acted only as a short rest stop for me.  Time marched on and so must I. There was now less than two weeks left of my African Adventure, so every moment was precious. I had no time left to play idle tourist, when there was a finite amount of time left to get back to Cape Town and squeeze in a quick final visit with relatives. It was time to move on.

Sadly, when I evaluated the last of my funds, I found that a train trip back to Cape Town, or even Springbok for that matter (where a cousin lived), would be too dear for my pocketbook. My options were limited. So putting trepidation aside, I decided to try my hand at hitchhiking once more. My spiritual renewal in Swakopmund had refueled my faith in the fates again, so I set my mind to the end goal.  I crossed my fingers that I wouldn’t run into any rides reminiscent of my last hitchhiking fiasco. Or worse, for that matter.

So with a prayer to my angel wing-man, I turned from the train station and headed out to the highway. I couldn’t help but pull out the camera to take a quick snap of my beat-up, dusty old pack that had seen thousands of miles pass under it. There wasn't much left of it or in it, besides the thin orange and brown polyester sleeping bag and an assortment of even thinner clothes. It was hard to believe that I would be hanging it up soon. Even harder to think about leaving this beautiful land, that I still felt like I was only just beginning to know. When I thought of the family and friends that I would soon see, I was spurred on to action though. I slid my camera back into my pack, just as a big rig approached. I stuck out my thumb and the truck slowed to a stop. This was it, I thought to myself, as I swung up into the cab. 

And as the truck lumbered back up to speed, I met Mango. 

Saturday's Email of the Week: First Dates

Saturday's Email of the Week

Its Saturday. And I feel like torturing myself today, so am going to share some of what I got up to last night. You see, I went on a date yesterday. Ooooh aaaaah! I know - wow. pffft

Well, I fussed about what to wear. I donned makeup & even let my girls dictate that I wear lipstick. I own the stuff, but have to admit that it doesn't get a lot of "face time". Har, har, bad pun. If you know me though, it just usually doesn't happen. But last night, you better believe it did! Oh, and I even put on a pair of pantyhose. For my dear gentlemen readers, I am pretty sure you designed the crazy things, as they are really quite the uncomfortable item, if you have to wear them for any period of time. Sure they help to aid as a tummy tuck if necessary or hide less than smooth legs, but really! Anyway, thank God I noticed that I had a run in them when I got home. I am sure I could have laughed through that at the time, but once home they were Off & then GONE! But, I must note that I did opt for them for the affair.

So we set a date, picked a location to meet and right off the hop, the location wouldn't work. You see date night has to work around my kids, first and foremost. I had arranged for them to be at a gymnastics outing that was a 3hr affair, therefore I had time constraints. The first restaurant of choice required reservations or a time slot that didn't work with my child are arrangements. Damn, this dating stuff is hard work! But the crux of the story is that this my friends was a first date. In fact, my first date in a good long time. And you know what? It was darn awkward! Lord, I felt weird. Essentially it was a blind date, so we had to try and get through the " Hi, nice to meet you" phase. shake hands here. Then what to order and what to talk about and ...

yeah, it was just weird. But I can now lay claim to a first date. And no, there was no mad passionate kiss that swooped me off my feet at the end of it, in case you were wondering. Suggestions were made to chat again, but I am wondering about that whole spark factor. Bah! I wish there was an easier way. Anyone on here single? Got any single friends in the Canada region? Kind of a big place, being the 2nd biggest country in the world and all, but I have been known to go on a road trip or two. So what have I learned from all this?

The Poet

people

real live people

flesh and blood

sparked with creative juices and 

breath

poetry

draws us in

united as brothers 

to tease meaning and maybes

titillation

poets

one and all

carrying the stylus

set in ancient tongues of

camaraderie

reading

words on page

thoughts in mind

all our own exalted bards

Scribe

in 

london

tonight

~

Fifty five words 

set in 

cinquain style

to describe a poetry reading

attended

by moi

Book!

A Little Promo

I have been doing some looking.

More than just looking at cute strangers too. In fact, I have been looking at me. Scary! Worth a look every now and then though. And what is it that I see, you wonder?

Normally I spend my day writing, often trying to come from other people's voices or perspectives, but as of late I have turned the magnifying glass around to inspect myself. What I am trying to see is a professional writer scraping out a bit of a living. I am trying to envision this business person that works for a living and does the job at hand to the best of my ability. There is attention to detail there and yes, an eye to the clock for timeliness as well. Hey, those are good qualities and worthy of a nod for my chosen profession, right?

This process does not flow so easily though. I am not sure if you noticed or not, but I had a suggestion to polish up my professional image here, so did a little housekeeping. I revamped my pages and tweaked a thing or two. If you get the time, I would love it if you checked it out and let me know what you think. When I was going through the process though, it forced me to take a look at me. Truth be told, it wasn't so bad! If I look at my resume of people that I have worked for, variety of subject matter attacked and timeliness in making it all happen, I am a little impressed. I have written more than an article or two, and some of them are quite good! Looking at them from a potential new employer's eye, the trick is to decide which articles are most worthy to share though. FYI: Much harder than I thought it would be. I am still not sure if I did myself justice either.

That bring me to today. When it comes to the marketing of me, I could use a lot little more practice. I become shy and reticent. To humble to boast, I am unable to sing my praises, despite knowing that I do have a modicum of talent. Again, I feel all gangly here; barely able to spit out a cohesive thought.

You want me to talk about me? Oh geez! What's to say?


The problem is, I have to get over that. I have to put on my biggest smile and sing my praises as loud as I can, because it is only through marketing, in the world of writing and social media, that your voice can be heard louder and in more places. And I do have a book that I would like to see in print in the near future, so I need the practice. And while in my little blog, I have been content to use my own small voice to gently share thoughts, poems and prose, that needs a little dose of confidence thrown in now and again. I have to find my big girl voice.

So in my best Big Girl voice today, I am going to ask of you a favour. Kahemm...

You see, while my first love is to the beauty of words, Mama gets a new pair of boots via selling those words (Winter is coming up fast and I noticed that my old winter boots have a hole in the bottom of them).

Oh geez, I am doing it again! Blathering to the point of LOSING the point. So,

I would appreciate it if you would all visit some of the sites that I work for and comment on whatever you might find interesting. If you do find something interesting, it would be even better if you could SHARE it too, like on Facebook, Twitter, Stumble Upon or Google +. Heck, you could even follow them! My clients are pretty generous folk, but a little more turnaround would be beneficial to keep me working.

Thank you

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Still Looking

My journal entries got longer and more verbose as the days went by. It was to be expected I suppose, as I spent most of my days alone. It left me more time to think and hence write those thoughts down. After travelling with so many people, through so many places, it was kind of nice to be left to my own devices. But in truth, it kind of scared me too. With all those kilometers under my belt, I felt like I should have some kind of hold on the world by now. Instead, I still wondered what I wanted to be when I grew up. More importantly, I wondered what I would do with myself when I returned back home to Canada. The answer seemed no closer than when I had left home over nine months before.

I returned to the best way to avoid thinking about the present moment – through travel. I left Swakopmund behind and took in Windhoek and its sights. I visited the Alte Feste and learned a little more about Namibian history. A Natural History museum provided information about some of the local animals I would see if I were to explore the game parks in the area. Interesting, but I had no time left for game parks.All I had left was the opportunity to read about cheetahs, rhinos and some of the aboriginal cultures that existed in the area. My time was ticking now though and it was more about quantity over quality.

From Windhoek, I boarded a train and blissfully watched the miles pass me by from the safety of its rocking compartment. It was the first time in my African excursion that I had the luxury of train travel, but the eleven hour journey left me a little less than impressed. Thankfully, it was an overnight trip, so at least a few of the hours slipped by unencumbered. Of course it also amounted to more time to ponder my fate, so when I arrived in Keetmanshoop my journal had a few more pages of notes added to it.

At this rate though, there would not be many more pages left to write. I had made it official. With a bittersweet heart, I changed my plane ticket for the last time. In a little over two weeks, I would fly out of Cape Town for Germany, then home. All that was left to do now was to get to Cape Town. Keetmanshoop deserved a cursory exploration, but as I debated what this arid town held to offer, I knew my heart was no longer in it. It was time to go home.