The written word

Writing is a strange sport!

There are times when nothing comes to my mind. When I sit in my chair and stare at the screen until the words blur into unintelligible script. I type a few hesitant lines. I delete them all. I edit some text and realise that my edits are worse than the stuff that was there all along. Any distraction is enough to make me leave my spot. Anything has to be better than writing! The tank seems empty, there is nothing more to give!

I should know by now that on days like this, it is better to go surfing and try to write again later.

There are also times when words seem to flow out of my very being, down through my arms and out of my fingers. Which then blur as they touch type the thoughts and emotions that pour out of my soul. Word upon word, paragraph upon paragraph, page upon page, they stream past my eyes.

Sometimes writing just happens. It flows without stopping until it suddenly does. In those times, writing is a pleasure, a joyous exhalation of my spirit! And the stuff I write at these times is nothing short of brilliant.

So good that the few good times are more than enough to inspire me to carry on through the many bad ones!

Stork Party Pictures

Keen for a run?


Donna in her element!


Even I was impressed with the cup cakes!!

Party in Pink

Saturday saw us up and shining at about 10h00 in the morning. Most unusual as both boys managed to get themselves breakfast and keep quiet since they awoke. Donna and I needed the extra time as we were both utterly exhausted; Donna because of being 10 days away from giving birth and myself with reasons unknown!

Then the doorbell rang, forcing me to put down my book just pages from its conclusion. At my front door, a lady presented me with a bunch of flowers. The attached note told my wife to enjoy her special morning and sorry that the sender could not make it. I asked my wife what was happening this morning. She said she had no idea. We left it at that!

Donna had invited some people over for a late afternoon braai, and so we spent time cleaning the house and getting ready. I made potato salad, just rescuing the potatoes seconds before they boiled to mash and we put the bread maker to work. The doorbell ringing again signalled that our never early visitors were early; who then proceeded to have an amazing argument about who had left the bag containing the meat at home. The clear winner seemed to be his wife; although he nonchalantly popped open a beer and then his wife took my wife to go back to their place to fetch it.

Then chaos erupted! Operation ‘Donna’s stork party’ was underway! With the unsuspecting mother to be again out of the way, and reinforcements in the form of neighbours and friends, it was time to turn my house into a pink sanctuary of fun for women. Just under 30 minutes later and all signs of braai preparation had been replaced by cupcakes, cheese platters, pink champagne, and enough pink presents to make my eyes water.

Soon 28 women crowded into my lounge and I found myself alone and rather disturbingly in my element! My wife arrived and was visibly surprised. Having gone with her friend to collect the missing ‘bag of meat’, she suspected that she was being taken to her stork party. Only to find the missing ‘bag of meat’ as promised at her friend’s house, which as you can imagine was a little disappointing. After much dilly dallying, including wasting a desperate couple of minutes by returning a DVD she had only just rented, friend and Donna arrived home to all of her friends whipped into a frenzy by yours truly. Or perhaps I was imagining things, too much pink champagne!

Somehow despite a number of people RSVP’ing to my wife about her surprise stork party, we still managed to keep it a surprise. She had a wonderful afternoon and our new daughter has been spoilt pink!

I cannot help but thinking back to when our second son matured into toddlerhood. At that time we gave away every bit of baby paraphernalia that we owned. Now, we have been given absolutely everything we need for this baby and more! Most of it better than the stuff we had for both our children! Makes me believe that there is something to the principle of giving to receive!

My family certainly has been blessed. Not because of stuff, but because of the incredible family and friends that surround, care for, and love us. I am not sure how we will ever thank you all!

Hacking Horribly in the Helderberg

Yesterday I played golf. Trust me, I am no golfer. When I retrieved my clubs from a cupboard in the garage I removed an SAA baggage tag dated 2006. That was apparently when I last used my clubs. I subsequently removed a couple of hotel brownies and a large chocolate biscuit from my golf shoes. From careful calculations of the amount of mould, my suspicions were confirmed that it had been a long time!

The golf day was a fundraiser, as they all are, for our church and a local charity concern that looks after disabled children. The big event was held at Erinvale Golf Course, a beautiful and challenging course on the side of the Helderberg.

Golf courses frighten me as it seems to be an outward expression of one’s obscene wealth. Unable to do compete, I parked at the far end of the parking lot so as not to cause a stir in the ‘cool’ car section. I then walked around the pro shop, eventually settling on a purchase of a second hand golf ball for R8. The assistant and I were both under no illusions that I did not fit in!

On the first tee, a friend and I met up with the rest of our four ball. Two Scottish chaps in their 70’s! Watching them tee off released plenty of pressure in us as it was clear that our golf was not about to win any competitions. Instead the plan was to have some fun. The sun was hot, the wind whipped my short pants around my legs and I drove a beautiful shot down the fairway. It was the last time I would play off that manicured grass, the longer stuff on the sides seemed so much nicer to my ball!

We laughed and joked, and occasionally even played a decent shot. Two good shots in a row were rare and three unheard of! I discovered that if I put my back into my swing I could almost smack the casing off the ball; sending it straight as an arrow as far as I could see. Unfortunately these sweet shots cost me five balls in rapid succession as they went straight in a direction I had not intended; into a wine farm across a road, into the gardens of houses that probably did not know they lived on a golf estate, and into water hazards that were picnic spots and well off the beaten golf track! Lesson learned – tone down the power swing! My soft shots were still beautiful examples of golfing technique, except that the compass in my R8 golf ball seemed to be on the blink, hence my zigzag up to every green.

The last hole saw me provide a demonstration of my ‘Happy Gilmore’ swing. Tee the ball up high, stand well behind it, start the swing, step to the ball, and hit it hard, hockey style! Much to the delight of the Scotts, the ball took off landing just short of the green. Ironic that whilst trying to control my swing all day I had no direction and with the most uncontrolled swing, I got the direction perfect!

Prize giving saw our 4 ball take last place – 24th to be specific! The rest of the field seemed to have had as much fun as us but used their clubs far less in the process. It still makes little sense to me that you want to spend more on equipment so that you can use it less. Our four ball certainly got its money’s worth!

Lots of money was raised through an auction, at least R100,000 ($12,000). Everyone was only to keen to open their wallets and give generously which is exactly what was needed. My wallet was very shy and so I was glad to slink off to the far end of the parking lot and climb unnoticed into my car.

Suffice to say, golf is not my game and I am an uncomfortable man around people of serious wealth. I just do not relate!

Insight from an 11 year old

Last night was Judo night again and I was not looking forward to it. My body is still recovering from last weeks exercise festival. I am sure me bod requires a bit of rest, but I find resting more than a little difficult.

Thankfully I had a meeting at the same time as Judo and arrived at the end of the session. Sensei still got me involved in the last few exercises even though I was in my normal clothes. After the session, a boy of about 11 came up to me. He said, and I quote, ’It is really cool that you do Judo with your sons’. I said something completely inappropriate like I wish you would tell my sons the same thing.

He ignored that and went on to say, “my dad is too busy!”

Ouch!

I have certainly wondered over the last almost two years about whether I have done the right thing to embark on this path of finding a better way. If ever there was a sign post along the way saying keep on going, this kid was certainly it! I am not sure that my boys have the same level of appreciation as expressed by this child, but then again the value is in being there not in my boy’s knowledge that I am there.

This child, less than a third of my age, made me feel exhilarated and horribly sad. My boys get the benefit of a full time dad but what about all of those other boys just longing for time and attention in their lives. How do I make a difference in their lives? How do I make them feel special too? How do I get men to realise that the business of making money is but a single element of all that life has to offer? How do I get men to realise that depth is measured by love and not wallet size?

Funny that a comment made by a young kid can be so insightful and mean so much to me!

Love and Marriage

Today, I have been married for 12 years. I remember spending the morning of that big day in our swimming pool, scrubbing off algae with a hard brush. That is until I was rescued by my well meaning good men and whisked off to breakfast. A breakfast I was far too nervous to eat!

I am still amazed that despite the nerves, I still found myself saying ‘I do’ a couple of hours later. Today I congratulate my dumb luck in making a decision that in retrospect was brilliant, as it sparked forth the longest and greatest adventure of my life.

And yet marriage is not a popular institution. In a time when anything is possible at a price, and iron clad contracts just require pricier lawyers than the ones who put it together to take it apart, and where divorce is a commodity, I take much joy in my own marriage. On Friday we had drinks with our neighbours; two of whom have been married for 48 years. They don’t spend much time with the skateboarding crew but they are feisty and full of fun.

They are also people I look up to in terms of making a marriage work, as a lifelong commitment is no longer the norm! Today it seems that when the going gets tough, the tough get going out of the front door to the lawyers. Needless to say Donna and I made a couple of vows and we mean to keep them!

When I got married, I thought that I was deeply in love, but now I know that I really had no clue. As the years have gone by, I have found that our love for each other has grown and matured. It is different to when we first met and so much better. Our lives have become more and more one life, whereby both of us are halves of some different whole. A whole that is simpler and yet more complicated and thrilling than either of us on our own.

One day when we hold each other’s thin bony hands and squint through our bifocals at each other’s lined faces and reminisce about the incredible adventures of our lives, we will know that it was as good as it was, because we did it together!

I would not have it any other way. I love you honey!

Falling Apart

My life over the last couple of days has seen me play the role of bumbling idiot in place of my usual graceful self.

Saturday started with a four kilometre run on the beach with Luke as part of his school fun run. He did well and came in seventh in the school, not bad for a grade two. I then ran two kilometres with Matt and came in sixteenth, absolutely brilliant for the tiny tot! Luke and I then went surfing until he was frozen. All well to his point!

Sunday was the day that I had been looking forward to slipping on my running shoes and hitting the road. Instead I spent some time on the half pipe with my youngest. I lost control at the top of the ramp on my last turn, twisted my ankle and dived hip and elbow first into the floor. It was not as funny as Matt thought it was! By now I am so used to twisting my ankle that it was in the pool seconds later and then tightly wrapped in a well used figure eight bandage. Sadly, the run was put on hold!

I hobbled around on Monday trying to practise my throws for my Judo grading that would take place in the evening. I was allowed to skip the exercise section of the session but then it was on to my grading. It went smoothly but in a little light practise fight I sprained one of my toes and wrenched my wrist. Hello, and I was taking it easy?

Tuesday night was the indoor hockey challenge; a parents team against the teachers. I love indoor hockey and could not turn this down. I bandaged my foot so tightly that there was practically no blood flow to my toes, but at least my ankle was safe. One game somehow morphed into four games on the trot. At which point I was the stain on a pool of sweat and barely able to move a muscle. I only picked up a minor injury which was a grazed knuckle and a bruised hand. Of course I could show no pain in front of the rest of the parents. You can be certain that if parents and teachers did not know me, they know me now!

Wednesday night was the toughest Judo session of my short new Judo career. I limped into the dojo and had my children drag me out afterwards. A mental note was made to always ensure short fingernails as I had managed to split most of them down the sides. I said a prayer of thanks for power steering. At home, I shooed the kids out of the car and then summoned a vast amount of mental strength to do the same. I slowly shuffled into the house in about the time that it took my kids to shower and go to bed, normally a process that takes hours! I grabbed a very unlucky Coke which was dispatched in record time. That provided me with sufficient energy to get to the shower. Showering was a painful exercise as by now my body parts had ceased. Cleaning the soles of my feet involved a special contortion that involved the wall and a lot of will, and I barely avoided taking the rest of my shower sitting on the floor. I thought that the hard part was over, but drying myself was next to impossible. Halfway through I accidentally dropped my towel on the floor, which was great as it solved the problem of how to dry my feet. I then spread my jocks on the floor and wiggled my feet into the holes. After bending for about 15 seconds I managed to get a hold of them and pull them up, impressing myself immensely with my innovative dressing techniques. At that point I decided I had put enough clothes on.

Today, I feel like a metal robot that somebody forgot to oil! I am tired, very damaged, and absolutely refuse to let anyone tell me that it is all because I am getting older!!

Lost 2

After giving my last post on ‘lost’ some lateral thought, I decided that I was not happy with it all. If you have not read it, read it and then come back to this post.

There is one other thing that I can do for my children. Ensure that they know and feel Gods love for them. With it, at least they can expect heaven when they die, and as a parent, I will know that this is where they will be. Without it, they are gone without a trace, and as a parent, I will be left with a tragic loss!

You may be thinking that you won’t be reading this blog again because I have brought up the God factor? The thing is, I would rather be an idiot and believe in God, and be wrong, than clever, not believe, and be wrong! This comment though, tries to reduce faith to a tenet of logic which obviously cannot be done, so please forgive me.

As a Christian, I believe that God gave up his son to die for me. There is no way I would ever be able to sacrifice my children for any reason, no matter how good. I am far too small a man for that. To think that God did exactly that for me; means that his love for me is humanly unfathomable. Truly, I want my children to experience that love.

So the things I can do for my children, regardless if they die young or old, is to give them a home filled with love and a life filled with God!