One of those days....

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!

The return of the soul mate

Chris Roper has always been my favourite news24 columnist and I really missed him since his column ended last year. Well the great man is back and his very first column confirms that great minds think alike (yes, cynics, it may also prove that fools never differ). Anyway it seems that Mr Roper also feels The Rage thanks to VodaCON.

Click here for his column

Neeeiiiighbours, everybody needs good neighbours!

My landlord is a typical European genteel kind of guy. Very polite. Very respectful. All in all he's a great landlord... except for one thing: His uncanny knack to catch me in the most seemingly inappropriate moments.

The band and I live on a smallholding. No one can enter the grounds for a visit without calling us from the gate. Hence we do not have the worry of people dropping by without warning. Plus our little cottage is very private... no one walks past. You have to intend to go there to be there.

For these reasons we are quite relaxed at home. Correction: we were fairly relaxed at home.

It's my landlord

He has the most uncanny knack of coming by to drop of an invoice, fix a tap, tell us stuff when WE ARE LEAST EXPECTING A VISITOR.

Now for the most part it is not even that we are doing anything dodgy... it's generally completely innocent but would APPEAR completely dodgy.

Some examples:
I will put on some clothes.
Notice a missing button or something.
Remove pants
Sit on couch in g-.. sorry guys who know me..overshare... In onnies.
Begin to sew pants (domestic little me)
And... "knock knock knock"
Look up (through glass door directly facing me)
See Edgar.
Jump a mile high.
Do some adrenalin induced unstoppable Zulu war dance movement
Hit the floor
Leopard crawl into the safety of my bedroom and leave the band to deal with it.
(nice caz, reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeal subtle!)

Else he will come midway through our sunday afternoon nap. We'll hear a sound, assume it is the pooches. Stef will go to let them in... in his onnies as well and looking creased and messy haired and dubious in general and Hallooooo Edgar.

Probably the worst one, however, happened yesterday. My man had been changing a tire or something manly and as we walked back to the house I sensibly checked that there was no-one around before quietly making a somewhat lewd suggestion about him ... um ... well .... (*this blogger swallows and wonders who will read this post*) about him removing his...er...dirty clothing and ...er... lying next to me for a bit of a...rest. (Ok, fine, so it was said a whole lot more lewdly than that as is the prerogative of a wife)

naturally, obviously, predictably this is followed by a big smiled "Hi Edgar!" from the band who had spotted the landlord mere steps away lying down fixing something under a door.

Time to buy me some oil of olay

Ok.. the whole midway through my twenties thing is starting to get to me. Yes, I am halfway to 50. I get it. ha ha, right?

Being 25 is not all it's cracked up to be! On my birthday the teller wouldn't let me draw money. I couldn't understand it. Til later when I figured out that they have changed my account type... farewell practically zero bank charges on my student bank account. Good bye to the good life!!

Today I battled to wind up (yes, wind up) my car window... Is this the first sign of a failing body?? And if so, whose?? Mine or the car's???

I was at the Neelsie over lunch today and the noise gave me an awful headache.

Or maybe it wasn't the noise, but the call I got from the dear old lady trying her damndest to sell me FUNERAL COVER!!!