Migration Diary

2009-07-18T01:23:00.000-07:00

There will be no new posts on this blog. If you would like to follow us on our journey in Norway then please click on the link. Thank you for visiting.

Saying Good Bye

2009-07-06T13:42:00.000-07:00

The boys had a birthday and farewell party at Snowtrax last weekend. It was a brilliant party and I can honestly say it was the best party any of the boys have ever had. Twenty kids were screaming with delight and every kid wants to have a party at Snowtrax now.

Needless to say I was so tired I could barely walk by the time we got home (crashed on the sofa and slept for an hour). During the afternoon I felt tremendously sad about our move. The thought of leaving our current life and all our friends behind had me in tears. I realized that if we are ever to leave the UK it's now or never. Even if I do complain that it is boring living here - it would be heartbreaking to leave further down the line.

Things lightened up considerably when I saw an email offering our little English rose a place in the local day care center close to our new home (in Norway). Fredrikstad has been desperate for more daycares in the center of town. I take it as a sign - we are moving in the right direction!

Finally used the gift voucher hubby got me and went for a facial today. One and a half hours of pure pampering ended with fifteen minutes of extreme torture. I now have hydrated, smooth skin and two thin lines left where my eyebrows used to be. Hubby assured me that I looked great but he had a concerned look on his face and kept asking me if I had waxed anywhere else. I assured him that I had endured enough torture for one day.

Another 20 boxes are arriving tomorrow - it seems that I underestimated how much stuff we have.....

Taking a new direction - a new blog

2009-06-22T04:19:00.000-07:00

The new blog I started has been hanging around cyber space for a couple of months now. Waiting for some attention - pleading for some posts to be made so that it doesn't look so totally apathetic and without soul. Maybe it's time to make the move. I've changed the theme a few hundred times to make it look a little 'fuller' but it's not the theme that needs changing - it's the postings.

Life in the UK is winding down, everything is now about closing our lives here and wrapping it up. Every thought is about the differences between Norway and the UK and how it's going to affect our new life. Everything is about the return to Norway.

So here goes. If you don't find your blog on the blog role don't get offended - I just haven't got to that part yet. I'm taking everybody with me. Click on picture....

Why Norway?

2009-06-20T06:40:00.000-07:00

It seems that our latest news has unleashed a flurry of questions (as much for hubby's email box as it has for mine). So let me put it all into perspective (quickly get that cuppa and put your feet up).

Before we came to the United Kingdom we did consider moving to Norway. However, there were a few complicating issues. At the time we had my (teenage) stepson living with us and he wanted to come with us. As some of you know Norway does not make it easy for non Norwegian children from previous marriages to enter Norway.

The whole process would have proved so lengthy and time consuming that it wasn't actually an option at the time. The United Kingdom was the best viable option for the business and for us as a family unit.

My stepson is now back in South Africa about to become SA's answer to Jamie Oliver and enjoying his independence in the sun. Our circumstances have now changed.

Quite a few people have asked "what's wrong with the UK?". There's nothing wrong with the UK but I feel :"why would I want to live in the UK when I can live in Norway?". Raise my children on a good wholesome diet of boiled potatoes and lutefisk - is there a question!

Besides the allure of 60Mb internet connection (that's how I managed to sell the idea to hubby, with much assistance of my trusted friend Monica who flew over from Norway to complete the salesjob)- we feel that Norway has more to offer our children in terms of future opportunities. Besides can you imagine their delight when we visit the real Santa in Drøbak (at least he won't swap Rudolph the rednose reindeer for Omar the camel just because of a small case of blue tongue!).

I want to return to Norway and we want to raise our children in Norway - it's as simple as that really.

In the greater scheme of things Oslo is only a 2 hour flight from London. It's like moving from Durban to Cape Town really. Cape Town and Norway have a few things in common - mountains and fresh fish!

Undoubtedly there will be some very interesting and challenging moments for hubby but I have no doubt that he will rise to the occasion (he is very reliable when it comes to that kinda stuff). In terms of business we believe that there is a whole new world out there to discover and learn from (I sense many a funny Petesweekly coming up).

So the place is Fredrikstad (my hometown - close to family and friends - if I have any friends left....)
The date is 13th July
The idea has been mulling about for some time but the final decision was made not so very long ago.

On the move again 2

2009-06-19T14:03:00.001-07:00

Wow, what a hectic few weeks! Currently sitting on a pile of flatpacked boxes with my laptop trying to find some semblance of equanimity. The boys are using the flatpacked boxes as diving boards to dive on the sofa and our little English rose is delighting in distributing the roles of bubble wrap all over the lounge. She calls it "pop pop".

The big move will be happening on the 13th July. Hubby is very busy with work and doesn't have time to get involved so I am left to make all the decisions by myself. That's ok - I can do that. Removal company is booked and notices have been given. Essentials done!

Big farewell party for boys friends will be held at Snowtrax - boys are very excited.

Will post link for new blog shortly. Oh right - did I mention that we are moving to Norway.......

Going bananas

2009-06-14T14:17:00.000-07:00

So have you ever done online shopping and thought that you ordered 6 bananas only to have 6 bunches of bananas delivered at your door?

No? Well I did. Anybody got banana recipes? Besides banana shake, banana milkshake, banana bread, banana cake, banana split, banana porridge......

Ok, I'm going to bed now.

Summer fun in the Fords

2009-06-08T05:51:00.000-07:00

We have had some fabulous weather here lately and I finally have a tan to be proud of! The kids and I have been playing in the rivers and fords in the New Forest until late in the afternoon. But alas it had to end. Our little English rose has been sick for the last week now with a very high temp so we are house bound. The weather has changed to reflect her mood.

Paypal reimbursed me the money for the broken keyboard I purchased from ebay so no complaints there. I forgot to book a venue for youngest son's birthday party but he has gracefully allowed me to arrange his party in July. He reckons that the weather will be better by then anyway. How understanding is the little chap!

Exhaustion!

2009-05-28T02:24:00.000-07:00

Last night I passed out at 9pm. Hubby tried to wake me with the promise of a back massage but apparently I threatened to rip his balls off if he didn't leave me alone. Of course I have no recollection of this whatsoever.

The cause of such total and complete exhaustion is my new friend Bissell. What a marvelous job we did cleaning the carpets! Those of you who have little boys practicing their aiming skills in the bathroom will appreciate how distressing it is when the bathrooms are carpeted. My greatest complaint about the English - their obsession with carpeting the bathrooms!

I had my first bad purchase on ebay. We bought 2 used yamaha keyboards for the boys. One works brilliantly but the other one arrived with 21 broken keys (no sound escapes them). The seller is refusing to refund the whole amount so I have registered a claim with paypal. Very disappointing as we now have one son with a keyboard whilst the other has to sit and wait for some unscrupulous seller to refund us so that we can buy another one.

Bissell and I are now off to clean all the loose carpets and mattresses. Not that I'm one of these wives who gets excited about 'house gadgets' (God help my husband if he ever buys me a kitchen appliance for Christmas or my birthday) but this machine is just amazing! One of my all time favourites.

Reply from British Home Office

2009-05-21T13:17:00.000-07:00

We received a response from Home Office today. They informed us that they could not expedite my husband's passport as this would not be fair to all the other EEA2 applicants. So we were basically told in a ever so English way to get lost. Distressing!

Hubby is currently venting his frustration in a letter to the Home Office, copied to our local MP and our well known Home secretary (the one who's husband was caught watching porn movies on the taxpayers expense - wasn't that a laugh and a half!).

I don't have the heart to point out to my darling hubby that nobody actually cares about his passport issues. The MP's and Cabinet Ministers are so busy running for cover that they are dropping balls all over the place. Besides hubby already knows - he just needs to get rid of some steam.

Now for some decisions........

When life gets complicated

2009-05-19T03:33:00.000-07:00

My youngest son was invited to a birthday party last Saturday. We received a bit of a strange invitation as the venue for the party had not been decided on yet. We were asked to drop our boy off at birthday boy's house and then they were going to decide what would be happening. Cool - no problem with that.

When Saturday morning arrived our boy was very excited - with present under his arm he marched down the road to the party. It was a windy and rainy day. Hubby had to use the car to take big brother to tennis so the two little ones and I had to walk in the wind and rain but it wasn't far to walk.

To our surprise nobody was home so we waited a while (in the wind and rain) whilst I desperately tried to phone and sms birthday boys mother but there was no reply. Finally after standing in the wind (did I mention the rain?) for 20 minutes desperately banging on the front door......we received an sms. It turned out that we were at the wrong address. At the wrong address?!!!! I ask you - how can you invite people to a party and write the wrong address!

Mumbling and cursing under my breath I dragged my poor disappointed boy home (he was desperately trying to find reasons for why we should continue standing in the rain until the front door opened and somebody invited us in to the party).

By the time we got home (and several attempted phone calls later) I was ready to kill the b*t$%. How dare she waste my time like this and to top it off - break my little boys heart. I was going to rip her heart out and make her eat it for breakfast.

I received an sms to phone another number if any problems. Problems???!!!! Is this woman for real!

Nobody answered the new number either so I left a message firmly informing said moron individual that we had been standing in the rain at what had clearly turned out to be the wrong address.

A few minutes later birthday boy's dad phoned me. He wasn't sure what was going on but had to appologise as they are currently going through a divorce and things are a little unsettled. His ex-wife had arranged the party but he had instructions to take the boys swimming. She had obviously written the old address on the invite.

I suddenly felt embarrassed. Here I was throwing a little 'hissy fit', getting my knickers into a knot because I had to stand in the rain for 20 minutes while somebody else's life was in emotional turmoil and falling apart. It doesn't matter what the circumstances are - divorce is always painful.

Birthday boy's dad and I sorted everything out and I sat down to have a cup of coffee before we got ready to hit the road again. One little boy had a fabulous birthday party with all his friends, my little boy had a fabulous time with him and I was reminded that everybody has a story to tell.

The event brought flashbacks of my own divorce and I find myself deeply grateful that I don't have these kind of issues to face.

Reminder to self for future - don't sweat the small stuff!

Nothing like a South African curry!

2009-05-16T06:48:00.000-07:00

Cooking is not my forte. I'm generally into very basic foods, that might be due to growing up on traditional Norwegian cod and boiled potatoes or maybe it's just pure laziness. There's not much in the way of traditional South African cuisine that suits my pallet. I mean the whole biltong and potjie thing is ok but I'd rather eat tinned tuna with brown rice. No offense to Afrikaans traditions or anything- it's just not my kinda thing. Put sushi and sashimi in front of me and I turn into a glutton of note - it's not a pretty sight!

However, there are some traditional South African cooking styles that get my mouth watering. Take spatched cooked chicken on the braai for example - now that's how a chicken should be done! Not to mention a good Durban curry! There is nothing in the world like a Durban curry - even hubby who is a curry connoisseur agrees with me.

I never used to eat curry. At the tender age of 5 I tasted my mother's Durban curry and it burned my tastebuds to shreds - it took many years for them to grow back (my tastebuds). People in the village (Norway) used to 'order' curry from my mother because they had never tasted anything like it - mother was famous for her curry and spicy grilled chicken.

It was only when one of my South African Indian friends decided that I hadn't tasted curry until I had tasted her curry that I was persuaded to eat curry again - there was no turning back. I must emphasise that she is Indian because she told me that white people can't make a decent curry to save their lives. Just so that you understand I have tasted a real curry! I dare not tell my mother what my friend said (mother might get offended).

There's a curry restaurant in Ringwood that does come pretty close. This was the restaurant that hubby took me to when I was pregnant (and 2 weeks overdue) because he was adamant that a good curry would send me into labour. I thought that he had lost his marbles completely until I woke up screaming at two in the morning. I don't know what was in that 'Bombay curry' but it was enough to start my contractions. We haven't been back since. I'm petrified it will send me into labour again - pregnant or not!

Hubby loves curry but I simply lack the patience or love for cooking to make him one. Ok, I'll be honest I don't know how to cook a decent curry. So he has found the next best thing. Boil a little rice, if you'r in the mood for some meat then just fry some chicken and throw in.

Voila - a decent South African curry!

Who's your Mama!!

2009-05-15T01:18:00.000-07:00

So yesterday boy number 2's bed arrived and had to be assembled, I was pretty confident as I had assembled one before. Pictures for your entertainment:

Looks chaotic but no worries - I know what's going on.

At least the holes are in the right places this time and I don't need to improvise with the drill!

OK, so I shouldn't have let English rose play with those white plastic 'thingies' because now the drawers won't work - but not a train smash - can sort that out later.

This was the difficult bit as those boards on top are really heavy to lift.

Starting to look like something now!

Voila!!

Ooops - where did those come from?????

Change is uncomfortable

2009-05-14T01:28:00.000-07:00

One of the things that I really love about my husband is his sense of humour and how he formulates his thoughts. This is a man that has us in stitches from morning to evening, I am truly in awe of how he can think up stuff so quickly.

Anyway - this is hubby's take on his 'lost passport debacle'. From Petesweekly

You may recall that my SA passport was stolen in November last year at the V&A Waterfront? (I only have a SA passport.) I thought a follow-up might add some value, and persuade you to graft your own passport to your left buttock when you travel, rather than keep it somewhere less safe like your wallet.

Afer arriving back home in December I sent my SA passport off to the UK Home Office to have my permit reissued to stay in the UK (and close to fast Internet and overnight book delivery).

When I first did it, the process took a month. Not this time. It's May, and still no passport in sight. It's buried on a desk somewhere, and although Home Office rules say it should pop out within six months, Internet scuttlebutt is talking about 12 months.

Unlike South Africa where a simple Form R200 might clear that logjam quickly, this is not allowed here, unless you happen to be a senior member of the House of Commons. (That was a joke, OK? Don't get snooty about it.) Your team may be able to willy-nilly extract money from the public purse for personal gain, but my team gets an "A" for effort. At least until a local newspaper began sharing the details with us unwashed masses.

No passport = No travel. No travel to SA = No seminars. No seminars = one third loss of income. No passport = am allowed to pay taxes, but not allowed to borrow money.

All of which means that one gets awfully creative, because there isn't any other option. And the creativity is never comfortable. At least not for me. The process involves:

some clinical depression,
a few calls from banks,
lots of TV as I revel in how others are indeed worse off than me,
another few calls from banks,
more TV as I see how the government has a plan to keep everyone in a job (except me because I am a Colonial, even worse off than a Gurkha),
a few books as I try to find some direction,
hundreds of hours trolling through the Internet,
with just the occasional pause to pray for clothes for those poor unclothed girls in Russia who want so desperately to iron my clothes,
while I field off another call from a bank...

And then, somewhere in the midst of all this, a seed starts to germinate. A problem that needs solving enough to break through the gloom. All the reading over the past few years, the Internet trolling, the surveys, all begin to fall into place - and up bubbles some answers.

That answer is the most exciting thing I have ever done. I wake up at 5am after a sleepless night which started at midnight, because I cannot wait to get back to work. This is fun. It adds incredible value to my clients, most of whom are people I have known or consulted with since 1995. And, of course, it pays the bills.

I am just a little sad that Nabnitha, the LloydsTSB representative who works from Bangalore, won't be calling me any more. She never sent any pictures either, although I am sure she is happier chasing money than ironing my shorts.

Bottom Line: Change is very uncomfortable. Accept that, don't take it personally, and get creative.

All the best

Peter Carruthers
May 14, 2009

PS I am still working with the Warriors who want this new service. I will share it shortly.

Business Warriors

Swine flu knocking on the door

2009-05-13T10:23:00.000-07:00

The kids have been sick so they have been home from school the last few days. It just so happened that my mother phoned to have a chat and of course she went paranoid on me when she heard the kids were sick- she's convinced the kids have got swine flu and are thus in need of urgent medical attention!

I had to rush the kids to the doctor to prevent my mother from getting on the first plane from Spain to rescue her grandchildren from their ignorant mother(moi). The nurse assured me that besides a mild ear infection and a little exam nerves - my kids are fine. No need for granny to leave Spain.

We received a leaflet about swine flu in the post today. It reads "Important information about swine flu..... symptoms are sudden onset of fever, cough or shortness of breath". No wonder gran is convinced that everybody has got swine flu - that description fits just about every flu virus symptom out there!

My little corner of peace

2009-05-12T06:34:00.001-07:00

This is my little corner where I have been spending 45 minutes every day (or night as it may be). Exercise has always been a fun thing for me - a place and time to get rid of frustrations and find balance - deal with those unpredictable hormones as it were. I find that I'm a better person after a little exercise - everything just seams so much clearer. The ultimate would of course be to get back to gym but that's proving to be a little inconvenient lately with sick kids and extra work load.

The poor old thing was standing in the garage (coz hubby decided that it was ugly and took up too much space) but I decided to rescue my old friend and she is now snug as a bug in the lounge corner. I must confess that my new found inspiration to exercise at home was triggered by one of the blogs I read - Trine Grung.

Trine blogs about her exercise habits (and other stuff) and is generally one of those inspirational individuals with too much energy. She reminds me of some of my friends in SA that I left behind - vivacious and sexy but gets herself into trouble because she wears her heart on her sleeve. If you have a look at her blog and youtube clips you'll see (watch the facial expressions) that you don't need to understand what she is saying in order to understand that she is a live wire.

People like Trine make the world go around, even if they do get themselves into trouble for not being sensitive enough. Besides she's the first Norwegian to ever be on Oprah - you gotta love that!

So back to not so famous me. I have been doing the aerobics and gym thing for years with great success. It's only since moving to the UK and having my third baby that I'm struggling a little (ok, make that a lot) with my routine. I can't quite get into the walking in the forest thing because after so many years in South Africa I have been conditioned to feel that it's dangerous.

Gym works well until 'other stuff' starts happening and then I fall off the ladder. But I feel that the home thing works for me because I'm not restricted to time. Most of the time I end up doing 1 hour exercise at 10pm - guess who has a wonderful sleep. Right now it's the only thing that really works for me in terms of exercise.

Other than that - the weather is 'kak' and there's no promise of relief from wind and clouds. I'm resorting to a bottled tan because the sun - she just ain't happening on this side of the hemisphere!

Sista!

2009-05-11T14:38:00.000-07:00

Gorgeous Kirsty in sunny South Africa very generously gave me the Sisterhood Award. I am chuffed - thank you Kirsty!

The sole purpose of this post is to brag about my award as I never write when I'm not in the mood for writing. Our beautiful children are all sick with temperatures and vomiting. Little English rose spent the night using me for target practice - which reminds me, I haven't washed my hair since last night......

Hubby is on a mission with his newest project - I haven't seen him this inspired since....well, I've never seen him this inspired before. I am convinced that he must be secretly taking drugs because he has more energy than I do at the moment!

We got a huge parcel from mum and dad yesterday. Check out the breathing kitty, it even makes the purring sound. Boys got spoiled with puma T-shirts (not that they know the difference between no name and brand) and yours truly got a bottle of perfume. Hubby got a very expensive bottle of wine but mum reckons he has to come to Spain to collect it.

Off to bed - nite nite people

Response from our local MP

2009-05-02T02:15:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday hubby jumped on the early morning express buss and headed for London. He assured me that it was all about some or other computer expo but I know that secretly he just wanted to get away from his chaotic home and mad wife (moi - in case you missed the cynicism).

Sitting on the buss minding his own business he overheard a man talking to somebody on his mobile. It was a familiar accent so hubby of course jumped out of his seat to seek out his fellow country man (should I mention - somewhere in the back of the buss). Now comes the serendipitous part - it turns out that fellow South African is married to a Norwegian woman and living in Oslo with their children. How small is this world!

And then this morning there was the surprise of all surprises. A letter from our local MP Desmond Swayne informing us that he has written to the border agency to make his own representations to see if our matter can be expedited. I nearly fell over backwards!

Mr Swayne - you have my husband's vote. And if Norwegian citizens were allowed to vote in your country you would have mine as well!

Banking procedure.

2009-04-29T04:31:00.000-07:00

Do you have a good relationship with your bank? I thought I had one - well, an understanding anyway. Things have been going pretty good for the past 3 years. In fact so good that they have given me a ridiculous high credit limit on my credit cards. I even get letters from them informing me of how much they like me.

Yesterday I received a phone call from my bank to inform me that I was £67.50 overdrawn - would I like to come in and discuss the charges? "What?" I yelled into the phone (probably burst poor Troy's eardrum). How could I be overdrawn, I'm never overdrawn! It turns out that the money I had transferred into my account last week did not take 3-5 days as promised but rather 7 days, thus taking me into an 'unplanned overdraft'.

Troy and I arranged a date.

I like to be organized so I did the obvious thing which was to visit the bank and get a detailed statement so that I could have an 'informed' discussion with my date. The statement told me what went wrong. Transfer of monies into my bank account didn't go through on Friday so when I did our online Sainsbury's shopping I went £67.50 into 'unplanned overdraft' over the weekend. Monday morning the transfer was reflected and all was back to normal.

Except not quite. For the pleasure of an 'unplanned overdraft' over the weekend my bank charged me a total of £45. Talk about getting a whipping!

Before I visited my date I received a letter from my bank stating "you asked us to make a number of payments for you on 24th April 2009....blah blah". I did? There's more? On the statement there's only one transaction taking me into 'unplanned overdraft'!

I was under the impression that a debit card is declined when there's insufficient funds, at least this is what all my other banks have done when there's insufficient funds (month end can be a nail biter!).

Calm but a little confused as to the complex ways of the banking world I wondered off to meet my date. I showed Troy my letter and statement and asked my questions. Troy assured me that they don't decline Visa cards - for that I would need to have a 'special order' which will cost me £10 pr month. I'm a little surprised - I have to pay them to decline my debit card before there's insufficient funds? Troy confirms that this is standard procedure for his bank. But not to worry, Troy is going to cancel the £45 'unplanned overdraft' charge because it's the first time this has happened and I'm such a valued customer.

My next question is about the big fuss made about the overdraft. Why do I have to come into the bank to have my 'unplanned overdraft' charge canceled if they intended to cancel it anyway? Surely they could have just told me this on the phone or written a nice letter.

Troy told me that this is his bank's standard procedure. I stared at Troy for a while, trying to make up my mind if I should tell him that I opened a bank account with another bank yesterday and I intend to transfer my account. But I decided against it. Troy looks uncomfortable and I don't know if it's because of me or if there is some other factor in his life that makes him feel so uncomfortable in his own skin.

At the end of the day Troy is just another dude trying to do his job. He is a human being with his own range of issues - some of which might be bigger than mine. It wasn't a personal attack on me, merely an automated process that triggered off a chain of events.

There's a time to fight and there's a time to move on. I feel it's time for me to 'move on'.

I'm not sure if I'm any wiser to the ways of the banking world though - except for that it has to do with banking procedure.

EEA2 and British Home Office despair!

2009-04-28T02:40:00.000-07:00

Today I posted a letter to the local MP Desmond Swayne. Why you ask? Well, let me tell you a story!

Some of you will remember that this (wonderful) blog started with my husband's UK residence application in 2006. Then late last year hubby's passport was stolen by 4 long fingered individuals. Oh the drama that pursued!

When a passport is lost or stolen with an EEA2 permit it means that the passport holder has to start the whole EEA2 application from scratch again, as in blank canvas start all over again. When the Home Office is in complete disarray (as the British one is because they keep reshuffling application centers) - it means that they keep your passport for a very very long time.

If you have a holiday planned within the next 12 months it is vexing because you might have to cancel due to not having a passport. If somebody in your family is ill or dying it means that you have to wait a week or two or three to get your passport back and then your application will be put in the back of the queue again. If you are a speaker (like my husband) and need to run international seminars to boost your business income in this time of global financial crisis - it means stress, stress and more stress.

And to put the cherry on top. Did you know that in the UK - your passport is your primary proof of identity. This means that if you approach the bank for a personal or business overdraft, they will not be able to help you because you don't have a passport as proof of identity and residence permit!

Back to the British Home Office. During the first 6 months of the Home Office sitting with your application including your passport they will not correspond with you. As in not help you on the phone, not reply to letters or email - nada, nix - don't want to hear your story!

In fact it's so bad that even a top notch immigration lawyer has informed us that they can't get through to chase up the EEA2 application processing time.

There is a clause that allows one to take action against the Home Office if they take longer than 6 months to process but I doubt that will be of much value. Who wants to take legal action with today's cost anyway! So the frustration is mounting for us as hubby wants to plan his seminar but can not settle on dates because (you guessed it) he doesn't have a passport!

Apparently we are not the only ones who are getting vexed about this situation. SOLVIT is apparently being overrun with annoyed EEA2 applicants who have waited over 6 months for the return of their passports.

Yesterday Hubby pulled out his magic stick (otherwise referred to as the pen) and wrote another letter to the Home Office but this time we copied it to our local MP. I have no idea if our local MP will even bother to get involved in this case although I'm sure that if we stopped paying our council tax there would be a quick response from the local council.

It reminds me a little of that time in South Africa when I was refused a new Identity book on the basis that I had "too many names". After spending many hours waiting in a very smelly office surrounded by various individuals giving me the hairy eyeball - I was interrogated as to this matter of so many names. In a very English polite way I attempted to explain the reason but nobody seamed to understand English and I don't speak Zulu.

It all got too much for me. I leaned over the counter grabbed the piece of paper and said :"This is my father (pointing to my maiden name), this is the man who left me (pointing to my ex's name) and this is my husband(pointing at my wide-eyed husband who had never seen me lose my temper before)!".

The officer replied :"Oh why didn't you say so".

As it turned out nobody in Home Affairs understood the term "maiden name". Talk about language barrier.

The day when time stands still

2009-04-25T00:23:00.000-07:00

You lay there so peaceful, your cheeks flushed as if you have been outside in the cold. I touch your hand but it's cold as ice. Squeezing your hand I wait for you to open your eyes, I need you to open your eyes. But you are in the deepest sleep.

There's a scream, mum is on her knees rocking back and forth. Pappa is in the corner clutching his chest. The General is in the room, he looks at me with his clear blue eyes and tells me that it's about numbers -some numbers don't come home. My heart is racing, I turn to find you but they have covered you with the flag. There's a scream, this time the scream belongs to me.

Three soldiers stand in front of me, they are staring at the ground. I wonder why they don't look me in the eyes. They hand me your things and then two of them turn and walk away. One soldier stands in front of me, his tears fall to the ground like rain drops. I think he wants to say something but there is only silence.

Loud bangs. My heart is pounding so hard I think it's going to burst out of my chest. I can't breathe the pain is so intense.

The flag is folded into a perfect triangle and handed to us. I want to grab the flag and burn it but I stop myself.

The sound of church bells. People in black surround me, touching and whispering. I watch as they lower you into a deep dark hole and I vow never to return. This is not meant to be your destiny. You are too young - too full of life for this! Voices calling me as I walk away but I don't look back. Time stands still.

The phone rings and I know it's you.

I wake up to find the sun shining on my face. The room is peaceful and I know that you are with me. I breathe a sigh of relief, it's over now. The day is long before the dream comes, maybe that's because I know that it is coming. There is no escaping the dream, it comes to take me back in time.

I close my eyes and smile, I feel the strength within. I will not be idle with despair.

We remember you.

Pass me the drill!

2009-04-22T11:20:00.000-07:00

We are having the most splendid weather at the moment. I have even managed to get some colour in my face. Not that pink is really my colour but right now I'm desperate for anything that resembles a tan!

The boys and I went to watch 'Monster Vs Aliens' at Tower Park in Poole. It's a nice entertainment center, very 'jusj' as I call it. The bathroom is a little too 'jusj' for me, the tiles are black including floor and ceiling. On the way in I found myself overwhelmed by darkness and fighting with two swing doors. I got past the first swing door only to nearly knock myself unconscious on the second one (I swear that door was alive!). Dazed and somewhat confused I managed to complete my mission.

Unfortunately they didn't have 'salted' popcorn so we had to settle for a big packet of M&M's each. The movie was a blast and the boys really enjoyed it.

Both boys have chosen cabin beds for their rooms (a lot smaller than Stompa beds). We found this great dealer on ebay who sells 'seconds' for basically half price. The beds might have a few scratches or marks but they are brand new, just not perfect.

One of the beds arrived last week. Hubby opened the flat packed bed with vigor but somehow lost his enthusiasm very quickly. He assured me that the instructions were wrong, the holes were in the wrong places and it would take a professional to sort this one out. The bed was left in bits and pieces all over the bedroom.

Yesterday I decided to take on the challenge. I must say that I felt very intimidated confronted by the enormity of the situation but my boy was desperate to sleep in his new bed. The boy is now very happy sleeping in his new bed and is a firm believer that women do things better than men. I on the other hand have discovered why men like working with drills - it's a power tool!

Photo from catalog

Ronantic dinner for two

2009-04-18T05:14:00.000-07:00

Marina Botelli is a cozy Italian family owned restaurant in Ringwood. I'm not usually a fan of Italian food but I like this Italian restaurant. They make a Penne casareccia that rocks - especially when it's on it's way out the next day (let's just say that they are very generous with the chillies).

It also has a traditional romantic atmosphere about it which is another thing I really like. Last night was very traditionally romantic until I managed to squirt some lemon juice in my eyes. Blinded and screaming in pain I managed to compose myself enough to make it to the bathroom. Fortunately that was during the starter and the restaurant hadn't filled up yet. A very embarrasing moment. We managed to finish our mains without further drama.

Later on in the evening as we stumbled home through the quiet streets of Ringwood town we passed the local wine store. There were about ten people in the shop and they were clearly having a wine tasting evening.

You should have seen their faces when hubby started knocking on the window indicating that he wanted to participate. The look on their faces clearly showed that there was no way that they were going to let this lunatic in! I managed to drag hubby away when one of the winetasters took out his mobile (I suspect he was going to phone the police).

Today I'm off to find salted popcorn. The English have an obsession with covering everything in sweet shit - even their popcorn! No wonder they have such a problem with obesity. The South African obsession with covering everything in salt is so much more to my taste, although not much healthier! (all tongue and cheek people). The chillies seem to be having an affect on my sense of humour.

It's Friday and I'm chilling!

2009-04-17T05:20:00.000-07:00

Today was meant to be one of those 'visit a museum day' but we changed our minds. The intention was to head out toward Weymouth and visit one of those military museums (educate the boys further on the local war history) but much of the Museum's 'material' is outside (think tanks and trenches). The sky is dark grey and I can honestly think of better ways to die than drown in a trench in order to satisfy hubby's historical fervour.

The boys were relieved that we changed our minds. One wants to head out to play with his mate and the other wants to play some wii. Both boys have spent the past week at the sports club so they are really worn out and feel that they deserve some 'lax' time just chilling. Suits me fine!

I bought hubby the English version of Kristin Lavransdatter written by Sigrid Undset. It is one of my all time favourites but I have only read it in Norwegian. In my ignorance I decided that this is a must for hubby to read. Now he punishes me by reading it to me every night when we go to bed!

I have no idea what inspired somebody to translate it into English -but it's just not the same. Maybe buying him the English translation of 'Hunger' by Knut Hamsun isn't such a good idea after all.

It's Friday and I have booked the local baby sitter so that I can take hubby for dinner tonight. He has been working very hard lately so he deserves a little 'loving'.

Have an excellent weekend.

Hubby on radio

2009-04-16T04:04:00.000-07:00

We had some excitement in our house yesterday afternoon. Hubby was interviewed by Lindsay Williams from classic FM. There's nothing like a radio interview to boost a man's ego - hubby is now geared for the races and ready to conquer the world - bless him. I of course pretended that I knew exactly who Lindsay Williams was and what he/she did for a living before I snuck off to google his/her name - he's a 'makulu' business interviewer.

My life has taken a boring turn. I'm not sure what happened to my gym commitment but it's not happening. So it is time for me to empower myself - take control as it were. I have decided that it's time to join a 'class' at gym, something like karate, kick boxing or yoga. I need a little 'vooma' to get into the swing of things again.

Besides, hubby is so impressed with my success on ebay (I'm earning more money than him at the moment) that he has no objections to me taking an hour or two to myself. The unfortunate thing is that he doesn't have any more Apple Mac equipment left for me to sell. I tried taking some stuff out of his office the other day but he went ballistic and shouted something about "how can I run an internet business without a %&*%$ computer".

Ah well, at least I managed to sell enough stuff to pay for big boy's college fees this year. Children are wonderful but if there's too many of them - you will never retire (think 3 marriages and acquiring 7 children - hubby not me!). Heaven forbid Big boy asks for a car again, I'm not sure what I'll sell on ebay to make that happen - possibly his father.

A little piece of South Africa in my hand

2009-04-14T12:43:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I've shared something about myself. Not that I think that I'm so uniquely interesting that everybody wants to know something about me.......actually yes I do - the fact that I'm writing about myself in the first place is an admission of my vanity so lets not bullshit.

Anyway, as I was saying (in case you are interested). I don't believe that I have mentioned what my hobby is. I collect rocks, big hard rocks. Hubby suspects that I was a geologist in another life because I am so fascinated with big rocks. In particular Quarts Crystals (but big diamonds will do as well).

Now don't you religious people go all wonky on me! Live and let live is a good philosophy in my books (by all means - feel free to pray for me - faith is a wonderful thing).

Over the years my collection has really grown, I mean really grown! And today I had this thought that maybe it's time to get rid of some of them. I confess the idea was sparked off by ebay (some of these rocks fetch a good price). So I chose one of my big ones (+-8kg) which I know is worth a small fortune and rinsed the dust off.

As I bent over the basin using both my hands to hold the heavy Amethyst crystal - I was overwhelmed. The distinct smell of South African red earth hit me like a rock. I know it will take a South African to know what I'm talking about when I say the smell of the red earth - but for the rest of you - it's a very strong distinctive smell unlike any smell in Europe.

It was the strangest feeling! Then I remembered why I packed 6 boxes of rocks and brought them with me to Europe in the first place. Every single rock is unique to South Africa (ok, not the Lapis Lazuli which is from Afghanistan but that's a small one anyway). These rocks carry the smell of Africa on them as the sand is ingrained in them and they will always trigger off my best memories from South Africa.

And every time I hold one of them, I will be holding a little piece of South Africa in my hand. It was such a crystalizing moment for me.