Dear Love...this is where I live.

Dear Love


I wanted to take this time to write to you because I  feel perhaps you may need a little assistance locating me.  It seems to me, dear Love, that you have forgotten where I live. Wait! As a matter of fact it appears  you've never know.  I understand that there are over seven billion of us in the world  and that you have a great deal of work to do but I would  really like for you to come my way.  Its just ; I've been waiting for  years now and I keep hearing people talk about you so I have become rather anxious to meet you.

I know you may be a little perplexed thinking that you have revealed yourself to me in several forms.  That you  have manifested through family and friends.  That you live with me making sure that I want for nothing.  That you even shine through me so people see you when they look at me. Well, dear Love, that is not the version of you that I am talking about.  I need to see the version of you that manifests through a man. I know you exist in that form because human folks talk about  you a lot.

I am told that you are able to fill a man's heart so that  he has  genuine care and appreciation for a woman.  That in your presence a man is able to lead and protect.  That he can become a really great friend, companion, provider, teacher, lover and even light bulb changer? Is this true? Is it true that when you fill a man 's heart he can take a woman' car to the wash? He can hold her hand and walk with her?  Can you really do this? I am afraid I've only read and heard about you in this form.  I know no such !

I live in that place, dear Love, where even you fear to tread .  I live in that place where its okay for a man who has been in my life to wake up one day and stop talking to me forever.  You know that place, where after receiving  a Valentine's  gift  I am given a lecture about being a gold digger? And yes I had a gift for him too just in case you were wondering. I live in  that place where my thoughts are 'too much'  and my independence 'too threatening'.  Yes, that is where I live. Where even you are frowned  upon. Where  the  mere mention of your name is considered a weakness.  If I am to believe you exist I will need to meet you soon.

Do you think it may be okay if you took  a trip my way? As you take your trip around the world pairing the girls and boys please take a moment to consider me.   I'll be the one waiting ,patiently as I always have. But still...I can't wait to meet you.  I really hope you will come.

I smile always...hoping, that soon you will come my way!

Sincerely Yours
Mashadi

I got nothing but the rocks in my bed...

Winter was hard this year.  Oh what a schlep it was to get out of bed, run the shower and get on with the theater on the day.  I felt like an old Weeping Willow, tired and grey  with limbs  slouched , hanging and sobbing at the unrelenting cold.  Its not so much that the temperatures we too low but I fell into a  deep inconsolable melancholy that stayed one month too long.  I quite like winter ( see My Winter , my lover posted 26/06/15) and I understand that I wont  flourish  between June and August as as I do in the warmer months.  However,  this year, took me to that place that is most familiar to a Blue's singer who has lost in the battlefield of love.  That place where you have nothing left to give and no room to receive.  I lived Duke Elington's "Nothing but the blues"  and Ella Fitzgerald followed me everywhere singing:

"Aint got the change of a nickel
Aint got no bounce in my shoe
Aint got no fancy to tickle
Aint got nothing but the blues"

I  was miserable, morose and melancholic.  Nonetheless, amid all of that  I still fell upon events that would take the of bluest singers into a joyful calypso.


At the end of July we hid behind masks and let our  alter egos party the night away.  It was a masquarade.

Then we took a quick trip to the city and had lunch with our friends.  Lest we forget what else is out there.

Then we did the happiest five kilometers in the world.  The Color Run is the only thing is that better than it is sold to be.  We chose to be happy.

Quick hairdo change.  Merry under the Cubana lights.

Lunching with the Peacocks!

On August 29, we paid tribute to Michael Jackson, on his birthday and honoured him for being the soundtrack to our lives.#helpmesingit

Nothing beats a selfie on the escalator.

Sharing pearls of friendship wisdom on the radio.

Its okay to have the blues  just make sure that somewhere in between there you find some light and drops of joy. I insist on it.

Polokwane is becoming a rainbow # The Color Run

I love it when Polokwane participates in global initiatives  and this weekend we are getting our share of  The Color Run! The Color is  the happiest 5km on the planet.  It promotes healthiness ,happiness and individuality .  The Color Run also raises funds for local charities.

Date: 15 August 2015
Time: 09:00 for 10:00
Venue: Mitchell House Prep

Tickets are available at the Mitchell House Theatre  7 to 10 pm  today and tomorrow (Friday).

Visit  the website :  thecolorrun.co.za
#thecolorun


LET'S BE HAPPY!

Chronicles of a formerly slim girl ( Oh,great now I am a monkey at the zoo)

The gym is a giant zoo.

So, I went and joined the gym and got myself a trainer in a bid  to restore  this  body.  I have accepted that  I can't do it on my own so I have employed the service of one Danny from BodyLife gym in my neighbourhood.  I really  wish someone had given me some orientation or at least a briefing of what happens when you walk into this place.  I didn't know what was coming. I was never ready. Nothing in my life had ever prepared me for this.  

The first ordeal is called the assessment.  Oh, Mary mother of God!Why? Why me? There  I was in nothing but black sweats and  black socks looking like a classic before picture and there was Danny , looking like an advert for Nike, with only 6% body fat.  He stood there with what looked to me like an industrial scale, a tape measure and some gadget to measure body fat.  Oh the agony...Why didn't anybody warn me about these weapons of  esteem destruction?

Height: 1.6m

Weight: 90kg

Abdomen: 107 cm

Verdict: Obese

I want to run.  (But remember I don't know how to  and that is how I got here  hahahaha) I want  run and eat. I  need comfort.  I need warm homemade fried chicken with creamy mash and some apple cider .  I need comfort.  I need a bed , with an electric blanket and fluffy pillows.  I need comfort.  I want to chew and swallow until my  heart no longer feels hollow. 

But instead I stay. I stay and I face myself.   I acquaint myself with the eliptical and the treadmill, the kettle bells and the free weights.  I am  self -conscious  and  I feel exposed.  Oh the awkwardness of it all!  Danny is positive and encouraging.  Everybody is starring at me, cringing at my uncoordinated attempts to get this body going. The huffing, the puffing, the sweat, the screams the signs...great, now I am a monkey at the zoo!

Fake it till you make it!

All geared up and ready to go. I showed up...

Chronicles of a formerly slim girl (I wear black because...)

I have been dressed in black  for the past four weeks. Yes, only black. It really is quite easy as the general rule is : wear any color you like as long as its black.  You'd be surprised at how colourful  black is .  I have black black, blue black, charcoal black, metallic black ,matte black...its like a friggin rainbow.    The greatest  thing about wearing black  is that no one notices what you are wearing because they only notice the colour.The textures, design and fit go out the window.  Until of course...they ask you what is wrong. Thus far very few  buy my story when I tell them how happy a color black is.   They want  more... Sigh

Four weeks ago I went to Woolworths to  get a few warm things for this season.  After picking up a few items I went into the fitting room to try them on.   This was a big mistake and the single worst thing I have done to myself this year.  In the unforgiving fluorescent lights and wall to wall mirrors of the department store fitting room I saw myself.  There was no where to run and no where to hide. I had to look and  I saw myself.

There it was this grotesque figure , a curios shade of yellow, bumpy , flabby, heavy...fat!

This was the truth. Starring at me.  I couldn't run and  I couldn't hide. I had to see.

I know and accept that at 32 I will not have the body I had at 22.  I know and accept that I am beautiful. I know and accept that I love myself. I  know and  accept that  I have not  taken good care of myself in the last five years. I know and accept that I have had  meals to  drown my feelings.  I know and accept that I saw it happening and I looked away.  I know and accept that I am fat.  I  know  and accept that I am frustrated.  I know and accept that I must do something about it.

I have a personal trainer now and a living will to  bring sexy back!

Its no fun looking in the mirror and not recognizing yourself.  I wear black because I am fat.  It  gives me the illusion of hiding.  I feel safe here.  And tears don't leave stains on a black sleeve...

Hiding behind several shades of black

It is never too late to have a happy childhood...

I grew up in a township.  My childhood was just as  good or perhaps even a little more privileged  than others.  But growing up in the Apartheid construct that was Mankweng Township or Turfloop as it it affectionately known to the locals ,  I had very little public amenities to play around with.  See in the eyes of the Apartheid system, a black child was never to be stimulated.  I had a swing, but it was made my my dad, who spent several days with a welding machine in a bid to bring joy to my world.  The government on the other hand saw it fit that my friends and I should play in the dusty streets  and use use bricks as cars and rocks as dolls.  It's okay I suppose as it fueled our imaginations. We have good memories.

Two weeks ago I went to Turfloop where my parents still live and visited the Post-Apartheid library run by the Polokwane Municipality.  I walked through the all the sections ( there really aren't that many) but what captured my attention was the children's section and what  I found was  there. I found 'The wonderful world of Pooh'. Oh how I would have loved this as a child.  But still at the tender age of 32, it was the only book I took out. And  what I found inside the book , which was obviously donated, was an inscription that said, To Laura, Happy Birthday, From Steve, 1977.  I wonder what Laura's childhood was like...

ay,bee,zee

A B C
I cant see
D E
Where you be
F G
Oh gee
H I J
Thought we could roll a ...
K L M
mmmm
N O P Q
You left me with question
 R S T
You sped like
U V W X Y
Where are you
Z?

Imagine

I was never a Beatles fan until my cousin Tshegofatso showed me how awesome they were/are.  Once I listened to them and read their story I realized they were the embodiment of popular music and popular culture.  I love The Beatles  but this song by John Lennon , which he did on his own, is the universal anthem that just might be the code for world peace.

I dedicate this blog to Ledi and her wonderful husband Nate Bell. Thank you for all the great times . Imagine. I miss you guys.

Think about this:

Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

Winter doing the Gypsey

Winter
is here
I am alone
I hear the wind.
I feel feel the cold.
Frozen toes.
Sleepless night .
He has a message
I see you he says
I have many things
To say to you
But because
I can
Envelop you
Over power you
I will not say them today
I will tease you
Make you yearn for me
Search
Wonder
Long for me
Because
I can envelop you
Over power you
I am winter
Live with me...

Dear Winter:  sometimes I need a warm hug without conditions

What are the cool kids doing...

All the cool the cool kids in Polokwane are up and about. I  must be one of them . I just got home  from a flee market/poetry night/empowered drink session at the Masana Lodge.  My friend Mulayo arranges these evenings once a month, where she and all her creator friends come together to display their creations . Mulayo is a beader, she invites her  friends who design clothing and bags and other accessories to sell to us ordinary folks and this they do among the musicians and story tellers be it poetry or prose.  It’s an altogether beautiful Friday night.

Tomorrow myself and all the other cool kids are going to start our day at Polokwane Parkrun.  That is the global movement that has communities around the world getting together on a Saturday morning to do five km runs .  We do to this to improve our health and to promote community activities for fun and for social cohesion. 

After the Parkrun we are going to  Mikes Kitchen and the Farmyard to shop a little at the Pop Up shop and there after we will be entertained  by Primary School children who are little actors and actresses who have worked hard all year to put on plays for us. I can't wait to see the plays titled: The bank robbery, The new girl and The new teacher. These little stars are coached by Ntiski Raphesu who is not only a drama teacher but a particularly good jazz musicians from Polokwane. Little Marothi, who is not only as cute as pie but as sharp as a machete will be performing . I cant wait. Her mom will be watching her while sipping on her black coffee and I on a drink with a little more ambition.Yes all the cool people are my friends. 

We ought to be done by lunch time.  And after this I will be left to my own devises .  I will play my weekend by the ear..and then I will tell you what happened...once I've recovered.   Ooh my phone is ringing...its 23:30  the Polokwane winter has nothing on us.

My Winter, my lover...

Winter in Polokwane is like having a Gypsy lover.  You can never be sure when he arrived or when he will leave.  He rolls on to your doorstep without prior notice. You hear a chilling knock one day, and you  open the door and there he is; dressed in shades of brown and orange  expecting to be embraced.  Although you wish you had some kind of warning you let him  in, after all  he is your lover and a Gypsy and this is the natural order of things. The relationship is seasonal.  You welcome him into your space with a little reluctance and hidden excitement.

 Oh the things that winter brings!

In the first couple of weeks neither one of you know whether you are coming or going. It's hot and it's cold. You are not quite sure how to behave so while you are figuring that out ,; you put up a line of resistance.  You know he is there but you ignore him, pretend that it is still Autumn while he just lingers there waiting for the day to drop the temperature.  He knows that its only a matter of time until you face the truth and accept that  Winter is here.  Four weeks  into the dance you drop your guard , embrace him and flow into the warmth that comes with Winter. 

The fires come up!

You start to nest with him  creating an ambiance that bring out the best in him.  You make sure the windows are shut tightly; you  bring out old recipes of soup and chocolate treats.  Board games , films and double thick  blankets come down from last year's  theatrics.  It pleases you that the days are short and the nights are long.  Starting the day is difficult because you want to stay in;  listening to stories of Spring, Summer and Autumn.  So instead of hopping out of bed, you linger there taking it in for all that its worth.

As a  Gypsy,  with little else to do in Polokwane,  of course he follows you around all day.  Making sure that your  lunch of salad and fish is replaced with a heavy starch and a hearty stew.  He brews your coffee, fluffs your scarf and watches the clock tick till knock off time.  Together you drive to the store  to buy lamb shanks that you will cook slowly in rosemary and red wine.  He reminds  you to get wood as you will need a roaring fire to compliment the dark k/night . With Billie Holiday's blues and Satchmo's laughter in the background you sink into Winter's love.  The whole night is just delicious. So delicious that you forget that there is a whole world out there.

And so for  the next two months this becomes your story.  You and your lover.  You  and your Winter. Its a cozy love affair.  Warm, safe, loving and endless...

But  just as he came , he leaves.  You don't know when, you don't know how but one day you wake up and he is no longer there.   No warming,  no goodbye no sentiment about the last months.  Just as he came he leaves.

As the first buds of spring start to peep, you hold no resentment that he has left.   Maybe you even feel a little relief because you really just cannot deal with that kind of intensity for too long.  So you de-nest, and smile to yourself, knowing very well that he is a Gypsy and that he must be on his way. He always leaves but he always comes back.

With the same knowledge you smile knowing that soon enough  Lady Spring will be on your doorstep.

Lady sings the blues

Either way, keep me warm

A roaring fire to compliment the dark night

Easy soup for those with too much on their plate

Making soup is a labour of love.  It can be a full day affair. You must  give it your full attention, coax it and sometimes even make the same one a couple of times before its just right.   Usually there is a long list of ingredients followed by a long method. I always  crack up when I read the portion of the recipe  that says  "For the stock"".   I love soup but  I just don't  have that kind of time nor inclination.  But I really do love soup.  So what I do is the following;

For the stock  ( Haha I couldn't resist)

I buy one of those  ready made stock pots because  I was not  blessed with the patience to boil bones and herbs for  a homemade stock. All you need to do is read the instructions and in a few minutes you have yourself a pot full of stock.  That's the first part done.

I continue to cheat by roasting a packet of  prepacked frozen vegetables which I season with salt, pepper and herbs.  To redeem myself a little I add fresh garlic and onion  because they add life to any dish.  While that is in the oven  I usually faff around the house but today I will take the time to report on my weekend.

Thursday Evening:

19:00  Polokwane Show with Vuyisani and Justice. Most vendors are selling merchandise from China City. Not very cool.   Pizza and drinks for supper.  Mini doughnuts for snack.  Vuyisani loves shows for the food.  Quick trip to the rides.  No one gets on.  Sweet memories of childhood resurfacing.

A trio of drinks

Carousel 

Friday Evening:

19:00 Fish and chips supper with Barry.  Very delicious.  I am introduced to Van Morrison.


21:30   Got sidetracked on the way home.  Find myself out on the town with old friends. Polokwane is literally sleepless.  Everyone is awake. Seeking to be entertained without the provocation of boredom.  Note to self: there is only one woman in the Justice League.  

Hours later:  I am not home.  I need a Batman type superhero. No special powers.  Just brains and a few gadgets to help me escape. 

The rest of the weekend:

Recovering


Now back to the soup.

Once the vegetables are roasted  I add them to the stock and wait for them to cool .  Once they are cool I use a hand blender to turn them into  a soup like consistency.  Done ! Serve with your favourite side or topping.

Freshly roasted frozen vegetables. 

It looks like an  original, it smells like an  original, it tastes like an original, it must be an original. 

With a belly full of warm soup I hope to get  a lot of sleep tonight.

Let's do it in the morning.

I love new  beginnings .  I love the first of the month,  a new year, my birthday and I must admit ;  I even love Mondays.  What more when  the first of  the month falls on a Monday ? See,I am a do over type of person.  One of my favourite things to say are "Lets,  try again tomorrow" and "Lets give this day a fighting chance".  I like the idea that  no matter how badly the day before turned out a  new day gives all of an opportunity to start afresh. I love the way that the morning light filters through my curtains... as if to day "Come on, let's do it again."

I am tempted to fill this post with beautiful quotes about starting over, walking away from people who don't serve a purpose in your life  and not being home when  the past knocks on your door. I will not do that though.  I  will however state the obvious  which is that the only  living moment in now.  Yesterday is no  longer relevant because we can't revisit it and tomorrow is an assumption based on a legitimate expectation that the sun will come up , even if we don't see it.  So the best we can do really, is to live today well. Make now  your best now ever.

My plan was to wake up early this morning, do a little hip hop dancing, take a power shower, down some java and drive to work  listening to  FourFiveSeconds by Kanye West, Rihanna and Paul McCartney.  None of these things happened.  I rolled out of bed into the shower,  picked the first appropriate outfit I saw and dashed out the door  into my car where Sting was singing "English man in New York" while I was adjusting my wig .    But I didn't give up on making today spectacular  just because I had started it off like  Bridget Jones.

I went to work. I had a cup of   green tea,  made some calls and planned my week.  Then I called a friend to meet me for a young Mugg and Bean  breakfast so we could have some coffee in over sized mugs ,  do a postmortem  of the weekend and celebrate this glorious day that is the first of June.

Happy Mid  Year!  May the remaining 6 months  bring us  closer to our dreams.

Laugh it off and move on.

Sleepless in Polokwane Observer

Sleepless in Polokwane Observer

I am p-p-p-paralyzed with happiness.   Sleeplessinpolokwane has made  to the Polokwane Observer.  Yolande Dah-ling! You are the sunshine of my life.  This is the original version of  the article.  Enjoy!

A sleepless blogger in the city

>> She hit the “enter” button on the keyboard for the first time towards the end of March

>> Being able to write, is like the oxygen she breathes

Yolande Nel

Mashadi Mathosa is sleepless in Polokwane. And has a blog title to the same effect.

Her scribbles on sleeplessinpolokwane.blogspot.com are normally done at night, when the city is literally asleep. Then she makes a cup of tea and positions herself in front of a device she specifically acquired for the purpose of putting pen to paper or, in modern day terms, posting to the web.

She explains that she has been a true insomniac since the age of 16, a condition she doesn’t necessarily regard as anything bad. Mathosa brushes it off as her maybe not requiring as much sleep as others. Therefore the chosen title for her blog is a major highlight, as she finds it very befitting. The insomnia theme regularly emerges in her posts, “because counting sheep doesn’t help”.

She hit the “enter” button on the keyboard for the first time towards the end of March this year, after a longstanding yearning to give rise to her passion for creative writing. Being connected to a facebook page, her blog is ever growing in popularity, Mathosa happily points out.

Aptly starting with “But What Do You Do There” about activities in the place she calls home, she refutes the notion that Polokwane has nothing to offer. She describes her hometown as politely vibrant and “not exhausting”. The buzz is a low “zzzz”, she reckons. Still she regards the residents of the city connected to the world and whatever is not available can be found online. Forever participating in a variety of things to do, from the local chapter of national awareness drives to yoga and belly dancing all happening within less than 17 minutes away from where she stays, Mathosa is living proof of the vibey Polokwane she sketches in her writing.

She keeps her pieces reasonably short, simple, quirky and non-repetitive. In a fuss-free way she shares her insight into a host of everyday occurrences with her followers. Load shedding is given a go, also getting her index finger slammed in the car door and sharing trade secrets about where to get the best “slap chips” in town.

Mathosa’s blog is not intended to find the answer to world peace or attempting to reverse the fluctuating petrol price, but was created with the fun factor in mind; to her own benefit and that of her readers. She says she decided upon it for reasons of having done a lot of serious writing in the news industry all her life and wanting to give an honesty to her creative voice. “I’m like Riaan Cruywagen,” she quips, with reference to her erstwhile role in the media. She regards herself more of a creative writer than a factual storyteller. In wanting to use the word “I” in her writing, she considers the blog as a mirror of her life. She grew up reading “chick lit” and always liked the conversational style she applies to her own writing. “If you know me, you hear my voice (when reading the blog).”

An avid reader who intends shunning her television during the winter spell ahead in exchange for books, and on top of that being a perfectionist, she surprisingly finds writing for her blog very liberating. There is no stress about getting it perfect, but simply having fun, she remarks. She is quick to point out that she long realised she knew she could write, but struggled to find the kind of writing she would like to do. And now even bigger things await, like posting for South African Bloggers once a month.

“Creativity is about self-expression”. Being able to write, is like the oxygen she breathes, she concedes in conclusion.

If Mashadi Mathosa continues in this fashion, she might inspire more residents of this buzzing capital to want to be sleepless too.

A single girl's guide to loadshedding

When a country experiences a rough patch such as war or famine the government comes up with  contingency plans for the survival of its citizens. They ration out resources such as food and citizens themselves learn that they have to make some compromises so that they can all make it through the day. Things that were regarded as standard become  luxuries.  Initially the  people rant and rave, they moan and groan until it becomes the norm . Though they may not like it they learn to live with it until it is sorted out. This is the case with electricity in South Africa right now.  Our grid cannot meet the demand for electricity so as  a result electricity is rationed through a process called load shedding.

I weep.

All right so there are too many of us  with too many households and we can all have electricity but not all at the same time.  The load shedding story makes headlines every day because we are all trying to be on top of it. Load shedding  has become an icebreaker much like the weather used to be.  It has brought on a new dynamic to how we spend our time especially if it happens in the evening.  What do you  in the dark ?  I figure people who live in pairs or  groups will find ways to entertain each other but what about the singletons? Especially the girls; what are we to do in the dark?

Again, I weep.

Having been caught off guard a number of times and living through  hours of no food, no drinks, no warmth , complete silence and darkness I realised that if  I am to make it I will need a  fool proof plan. So here it goes:

Know when darkness will strike

Don't ever, allow load shedding to catch you off guard. Ever. You must get the load shedding schedule. If  you are going  get screwed you better know when it's going to happen.  Ask your friends, ask your enemies, visit the Eskom website, check your municipality , find out who your neighbours are and ask them . Just make sure you know when its going to be lights out.

Battery power

Make sure that all your battery operated apparatus are fully charged, especially the torch  as this will help you to locate the other things. Your phone ,  Wi-fi  router,laptop and tablet should be fully charged as they will provide not only entertainment and a connection to the outside world but also a beam to pierce through the dark.  

Sparking flames

Candles are probably the nicest thing about load shedding.  Have as many or as little as you like and don't forget matches and lighters.  We love candles because they give us  both light and a great opportunity to have a candlelit dinner by our bad selves. 

Workout your supper time

Look its either you prepare a cold meal like a salad or sandwich or you need to make sure that your supper is warm when you want to eat it.    If load shedding starts at six, but you eat at seven, and it ends at eight. I suggest you find a  good pasta salad recipe or one those granny dishes that keep things warm for a while.  You can now have a delicious supper while you listen to music from your fully charged laptop by candlelight by your bad self.

I've had dinner,now what?

So suppose you are thrown in the dark between eight and ten.   This is a great time for that home-spa bath.  All those oils and salts that you buy and never use can come in handy now.  Run your bath and surround it with an army of candles.  Soak and soak until you turn into a prune.  Relax and let your mind wonder.If you want to take it up a notch you can listen to your music or a guided meditation.  I love the latter.  Stay in there as long as you like and realise what a gift this is.

If  like me, you have a fireplace ...make a fire, pop a bottle of wine, listen to Billie Holiday and Nina Simone   but forget about the blues.

Surf the net, skype, play candy crush , retweed, follow, share, post, chat if you are so inclined. Or better yet, read  an  ebook or your favourite blog ( ahem). 

Go to bed early

What?  Go the bed before ten? Yes, the early to bed story is not a myth.  Maximise on the length of the winter night and get your beauty sleep.  It will be wise of course to prepare your hot water bottles, well in advance as the alternative is too sad to bare.  You've had supper, taken a bath, sat by the fire with a glass of wine, listened to good music, read a book and now you really should be ready of bed.  Unless of course like me, you  suffer from insomnia then you may just be happy being sleepless in Polokwane or your own town and write a blog post or two. Let the dark  be your inspiration.

Or you could do that

40 kilos on my pointing finger

It is after eleven on a Sunday night. Ordinarily I would be in bed after grooming myself for the week. Nails clipped and polished, hair in neat square blocks, lunch packed for Monday, clothes laid out...you know the works.  However, I spent my entire  Sunday working on a paper that I pledged to do seven days before the deadline.  Not only did I have limited academic resources but I also only had nine fingers to work with.  See last week after I surrendered my car to the panel beater and after he reversed into causing a third crash in 14 days my mother was gracious enough to loan me hers for the week cause dare I be sleepless and car-less.  I love my parents , who are able to this day to put my needs ahead of theirs.

Now, my mother's car is a debonair Volvo S40 . On Wedensday last week , as I went home to change for my yoga class I slammed the car door on my left index finger. Great balls of fire, I went hot and cold at the same time. What pain. Its like a hundred bolts of thunder landing on your head at the same time.  I saw my sanity flashing before my tear stricken eyes.

As a  person who always looks for meaning in things I tried for hours to figure out why my index finger had to be crushed by a Swedish made automobile with doors  weighing  half my weight... they are very heavy. I couldn't find the answer as I spent most of that evening with my hand in ice in an attempt to deal with the pain.  That didn't work it just made me cold.

On Saturday as  I drove to Haenertsburg  to fetch my custom made meditation chair (this time driving my fathers awesome Ford Ranger)  I finally got the answer to my  injured finger conundrum.  The universe said to me "Shadi you have your finger in too many pies, you need to cut down." I'm quite sure, as the universe is not cruel, that she had tried to tell me in other ways and as an -I can do it all type of person- I did not listen.  So here I am with a blue finger and a dead nail.

The universe speaks to us in many ways, first she sends a whisper, then a slight nudge and then perhaps a  shove in  the back and when you don't listen...she sends a  heavy door crushing on your  finger. Ouch...now I hear you.

You can do it all but not all at the same time

After work , before dinner.

Its Friday night  I am tired and feeling a little down so I've decided to indulge in a mood  lifter that has stood the test of time.  Generation after generation this little piece of magic has captured the imagination of children and grownups alike. I can’t help but smile.  I am watching Mary Poppins. Perfectly perfect  in every way. 

I love all things Disney and when you put Julie Andrews in the picture well...supercalifragilisticexpialidocious,

Lets get back to why I am so tired,  See, I have day job which is a little haphazard so there's no energy saving there.  Then I take on things like writing papers for journals and weekday dinner parties and I also have 'after school activities'.  I clearly have issues with idle time.  This is my schedule:

Pilates : On Monday I take Pilates from my good friends and physiotherapists  Matt and Liz.  They run classes  from Monday to Thursday  and you can contact them on 015 297 2911.

Yoga:  Theresa takes me for yoga on Tuesdays the effects of which I feel for the rest of the week. She is available on 083 558 5572.

Yoga:  Then I go to Shakeera for a different type of Yoga on Wednesdays . We breathe and breathe and breathe some more. She is in Nirvana and is available on 083 566 9496.

Belly Dancing: Yes in Polokwane, I shimmy my Thursdays away with Alta who is on  0848500420.

I used to take guitar on Friday  but my tutor left me to join a band. The show must go on I guess.

Thus I do get exhausted and I too could use a Mary Poppins type figure in my life. I could use a little magic.

Contemplating

Oh where , oh where did our blogger go ? (Part 2)

Some years ago I read Maya Angelou's  'The heart of a woman'  and  many years later Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's 'Half of a yellow of sun'.  Though the books are very different I  have the same fantasy about a particular subtext. Both books give descriptive accounts of parties held by dynamic African  intellectuals, attached to institutions of higher learning,  some spotting  afros, some spotting  stone washed jeans and dashikis, some accompanied by strong opinions, some seeking to establish life long relationships and   all participating in the play befitting such a scene .  I always imagined myself at one of these parties , wearing a calabash print maxi dress with  thick braids swaying on  my back , a satchel full of books and virgin  ideas.  I didn't have the dress nor the braids and my bag was full of uncharged electronics but...I got the party.

My friend Reneilwe hosted one such party at her house which is on the premises of  The University of Limpopo in Turfloop. Which of course was the perfect location for my fantasy.  She had a friend visiting from Uganda and had invited us for a polite dinner on a weekday evening.  The guest fiber consisted of a writer, a geologists, two scientists,a civil servant, a sanitation guru, a film specialist, an energy expert, a lawyer or two and one very happy blogger. 

Graciously, our new friend from Uganda laboured  in the kitchen creating a marvel of a three course dinner complete with paired wine. It has to be a good meal when honey,pear and coconut are going into the savoury dishes.  In between the eating  and drinking and general merry making I watched my fantasy unfold .    We debated, we danced, we dug up old songs, we spilled drinks , we made speeches, we found answers to questions nobody asks and made proposals to change the world. I lived my fantasy. 

This post is dedicated to Reneilwe Malatji and Ron Sessanga.

and living my fantasies

Just for fun

THESE ARE A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS

Oh where , oh where did our blogger go? (Part1)

Ever had  one those weeks where the days roll by, flowing into each other with no definite beginning and no definite end?  Where you are so busy with nothing and  yet  you are exhausted from it?  My week was like that I was  a hamster on  a wheel...moving but going nowhere.

It all started with the insomnia.  Perhaps sleeplessinpolokwane is manifesting  literally in my body.  I have not been able to sleep. I  tried all the remedies I know; from the old wives tales to guided meditations. The consequence of course is that I am tired and grumpy during the day meaning I couldn't go about my business with the usual enthusiasm.  I couldn't update the blog because I was being the blog...sleeplessinpolokwane.

Then I hit my car. Twice.  On Tuesday  I reversed into a wall and cracked the bumper.  I got over it pretty quickly and decided to fix it as soon as possible.  On Friday morning I went to the autobody shop where they removed the bumper and told me they'd give me a call once it was complete.  So I went on my merry way and proceeded to scratch the side of my car at the garage at work.  I didn't  get over this one as  quickly.

Between all of these things I had to return my brand new phone to the store because it could do everything but make calls.  I made the mistake of washing my wanna-be-dreadlocks and now  my hair has gone back to being an afro only with  locked ends.I missed the Parkrun and the monthly Flea marketa and book launches  and youth seminars.  I even missed Empire.

However, I had some great moments during this series of unfortunate events. Which I will write about next time provided of course that I get some sleep tonight.

I NEED A SUPERHERO

Dream of an insomniac...

Time: 00:15

I  can't fall asleep 

So  I'll just lie here

I will not count sheep

That never helps

Instead

I'll make a list

Of the things I love.

Hot air balloons

Windmills

Ladybirds

Sunflowers

Volkswagen Beetles

Cartoons

Tea sets

Sunglasses

Guitars

Books

Giraffes

Jazz

Red 

Fleece 

Herbs

Lipstick

Essential oils

Glass

Dresses

Jewelry boxes
Pink

Wooden Chests

Coconut oil

Slippers

Antiques

Films
Words

This blog...

Sleepless in Polokwane

All dressed up and somewhere to go

Looking for something to do this weekend?

Friday Night

Saturday Morning.

Pakrun was launched  in Polokwane last week.  Please visit www.parkrun/polokwane/  to join this golabal sensation.  Park runs  starts at 08:00  every Saturday opposite the park at  the corner of Landros Mare and Potgieter Avenue.  But please visit the website before you go as there may be some admin issues to get through.

Sunday

The Annual Mayoral  Road Cycle  Race is  on Sunday.   I reckon all committed cyclist already know however registration will still be open on the day from 05:30 .  The home base is the Peter Mokaba Rugby Stadium.  The event  promises to be great fun for the whole family. Errr...I used to ride bikes when I was a child but it turns out that riding a bike is not like riding a bike.

The Saturday number line...

08:00
Location: Bendor
 Get out of  bed. Missing the launch of Polokwane parkruns.  You can check them out  at      www.parkrun.co.za

08:30
Location: Flora Park Spar
Enter hair salon . Continuing with attempt to grow dreadlocks. Not very successful. Spotting a morning market. Purchase items: Boerewors rolls. Look out for this  market on the first Saturday of every month.

10:00
Location : Somewhere in town
Stop to buy roses for my bedroom. Very pretty. R40.

12:00
Location: China City Polokwane
Shopping with my aunt.  Very Colourful. Amazing merchandise.  Note to self: must make shopping list  for the next trip.

15:00
Location: Ancherlene Cafe
Buying the best slap chips in Polokwane ( or perhaps the world) . Still with my aunt. Will serve chips with salt and vinegar. She insists on having tea...just for control

18:00
Location: Bendor Polokwane
Dinner at a friend's  family home, I'm serving as a buffer, She is introducing  someone  to her parents. Talking about this here blog.


21:00
Location: Home
Thoughts of hot bath, essential oils, light   music. But actually...zzzzzzz in polokwane

But Friday night,yes I know...

I love Fridays but more than Fridays I love Friday nights.    There are many reasons  for this sentiment; it being the launch of the weekend and all. Then there's the  junk food, the grown up people's drinks, the going to bed without an alarm clock but most importantly for me  there's  Noot vir Noot.

Pinch me twice and smack me silly but man I love this show. Noot  vir Noot is an Afrikaans  music game show which has been running since 1991( when I was nine year old).  The show is hosted in Afrikaans but the contestants are quizzed  on all genres of music. There's  a live band, neon lights and a real life studio audience. Dit is  fantasties.  My peers  usually  give me the crooked eye when I tell  them  about  my soft spot for this show, you know, on account of it being seemingly boring and definitely corny . But, would it have lasted this long if it was not  brilliant?

Now  this last  Friday night  was a particular hit because I attended a little Noot vit Noot  party  at my friend Yolande's house.  Yolande  isn't  into this sort of thing so she  had bought a design magazine to drown in or perhaps to hide from the general corniness of the show.  However;  she  indulged her mom and I  .  Her mom is a fellow enthusiast.  I adore her. .  We both love potatoes and we both love Noot vir Noot.  Yolande and Finie, being gracious hosts prepared a delicious dinner of  potato soup for the starter, beef stew and jasmine rice as  the main, and Finie's  homemade triple layer chocolate cake for desert.  I was in comfort food heaven.

We laughed, we ate, we sang, we  drank,we gossiped , we teased the contestants and we played  the game  note for  note.  Finie was not my weekend special. I plan on having many  Friday nights with her, in  our little  corner of Polokwane, sleepless and enjoying the theatrics of one Mr Johan Stemmet, sans the three dimensional waistcoats of the nineties of course.

NEED I SAY MORE?

Easter lives here.

Polokwane owns Easter.  Its the same every year really.   Over a million people from Sub-Saharan Africa meet at the ZCC headquarters  in Moria for the Easter Pilgrimage. This annual event has several spin offs for Polokwane, the most important  being the  48 hour economic boom.  Local businesses from filling stations, super markets,  take-away outlets and  fruit vendors  service these millions leaving them with empty shelves and  heavy pockets.  Everybody loves to break their profit margin.

And in other news...

My friend Lethabo and I attended  the 'Live it,Jazz it"  concert  last night at the Fusion Boutique Hotel   for an evening of good food and good music.   After matured steaks and mashed potato we  followed the music.  On the line up : 5th Element, Yukio, Tlale Makhene, Blog, Erik Paliani and Judith Sephuma as the headliner.  The musicians were  great and Judith of course was fantastic. 

However, what I'd like to bring your attention to is the the following:

There is a man. His name is Erik Paliani. He plays the guitar .  I had never seen or heard anything quite like this before. Erik Paliani has a love connection with his guitar.  His  performance is a  conversation between  the man and his instrument.  It  is alive,  it is intense and  it is heavy and light at the same time,.  It sends shivers down  your spine then caresses  you back into ease. Mind blowing.  Took my breath away.

So so so sleepless in Polokwane.

Who's the fool?

JUST LIKE MARILYN

It would appear that the fool would be me...or would it?

When  I drove to work this morning  I changed my radio dial to Energy Fm-the pulse of the city. This station is Polokwane's first and only community radio station  and is growing steadily every day. So the breakfast team announced that I would be co-hosting  the show with them. Being oblivious to today's date I called my boss and he  said  I needed to rush to the station as he was waiting for me there  because we were both  going to present with team on AshifaBreakfast.   Clearly, they had  all planned this and had me as their target.

Why me you ask? I work as a communicator for the government and it  is common course to visit radio stations for interviews and such.    I really should have picked it up but  I hadn't had my morning coffee and I come from the "is there life before coffee?" school of thought.

So, as  it were  I went to the station and relived my radio days. And oh  what fun I had. Before I joined the government as a  communicator   I had worked on radio with these very people on a different station.  It was a great blast from the past laced with  fun music, jokes and good information.

Most importantly though , I got to speak about this here blog.  Free Publicity!  I laughed all the way back to my office.

He who laughs last...

But what do you do there?

I live in a small town; a very small town.  A town in which you only need one of everything except maybe fast food chains and mobile phone stores.  When  I meet people they ask me  " But what do you  do there?"   I usually answer by saying that I could find things to  do  in  a cave or  that smart people never get bored. However, I am alive to the fact that  very little is known about Polokwane.  Even though Polokwane is also featured on the weather forecast on the national news a lot of people like to claim that  they don't  know where it is. I take it though  that they plead ignorance to reinforce my town's insignificance in their eyes because the alternative really is pathetic.

Nonetheless, this last weekend was a rather busy one that awakened me to the possibility of blogging about  my town.  On the 28th of  March  I woke up to an extraordinary Saturday in Polokwane full of options.  There was lots to do.  It looked something like this:

06:00   Mall of the North Marathon  OR Endometriosis Awareness Walk

11:00    Civic Centre Flea Market  OR PopUp shop at the Farmyard  (followed by long lazy lunch)

18:00   Jazz at Ambiance Restaurant OR Belly Dancing Hafla

 And later:  Mafikizolo   OR out on the town and staying up really late 

And even later  : going home OR reliving university nights

I chose all the second options. All  this was available to me to do on Saturday  which was a  treat because  I don't usually have  this many options. On a day that I usually spend on naps I was quite literally sleepless in Polokwane.

ENDO WARRIORS DOING IT IN POLOKWANE