Yes, I can sing too!

Every wedding needs a wedding singer and not necessarily a professional one!  In my heyday, I sang at weddings.  Granted, I wasn’t paid and technically wasn’t ever really formally asked to sing, but I would nevertheless entertain the crowds with what was at the time – firm wedding song favourites.  Naturally I didn’t do this alone, I had a cousin who was always very happy to assist – I won’t mention any names, but you know who you are, Michael Borgstrom. 

Every family wedding needs a family member to add that something special to the festivities – an anecdote that will keep the family grapevine going until the next wedding -  I am happy to provide that service!

My concern right now (other than my brother and his fiancé not being too charmed about my plans to serenade them) is what to sing and what to wear. At my previous gigs I sported the barefoot, sauce down the front of my frock look, basically a slightly dishevelled (drunk??) look.  But that was like 15 yrs. ago – I’ve grown up since then, so I’m thinking I should at least wear shoes this time around!

Song choice is also pretty important – at this stage I’m known for giving a not too perfect rendition of “Boesman Land” and “Ek en my Meisie”.  But I’m thinking that perhaps it’s time I mixed it up a little… I’m not sure.  Maybe a little Lady Gaga? Or stick to what I know, but with a modern twist… “Kaptein span die seile” perhaps?

Let’s face it, weddings are fun! Personally, I have a ball.  I gauge how good a time I’ve had by the state of my dress and feet!  If both are fairly dirty, I know I had a pretty good time.  It’s all good fun though; at least it’s only my shoes I end up taking off and not my dress!  At my sister’s wedding, an uncle and I had such a good time that we tried unsuccessfully for ages to find our car in an almost deserted car park afterwards (this was seriously a case of the blind leading the blind – or perhaps the drunk leading the drunker!!).  But what with my singing and his Chinese dancing, what can you expect! FYI - It’s not a huge co-incidence that my wedding singing partner in crime is the son of my late car-finding uncle (RIP Uncle Dennis). 

Although I didn't sing at THIS particular family wedding, it is very clear I am having a fabulous time!

So not only do I have the stress of making 150 cup cakes, losing about 20 kg (as I’ve said before I’m not going to be the fat sister), I now also have to find shoes that can come off easily AND a sing-along wedding song (or 2) that I can perform….. and people say it’s only the bride that stresses before a wedding!

Hormones, Skinny Jeans and Rosemary's Baby!

It had to happen; there is no longer just 1 hormonal woman in the Beckley household.  The Government Shuffler (like Snow White) has 7 new friends - Irrational, Teary, Moody, Irritable, Cheeky, Volatile and my personal favourite Dik Bek.  Up to now, these 7 visitors socialised almost exclusively with me.  Mind you, thanks to meds, Irrational seems to have become a bit like the jailed uncle everyone loves, but nobody talks about.

As an introduction let me just explain my most recent visit from Irrational and Teary.  A few days ago The Husband found me sitting on the bed with Teary.  He asked what was wrong (has he NOT learnt anything in the last 10 years???).  I said I had nothing to wear (nothing fits) but of course since Irrational was also visiting I added that I was also tired of not having space in my cupboard for my clothes. 

This was a little too technical for the Husband (it was early after all) – he wasn’t sure what the EXACT problem was – did I have clothes or didn’t I?  And if I didn’t have clothes… where did the space problem come in.  WTF???  Was he NOT listening….. I HAVE A CUPBOARD OVERFLOWING WITH CLOTHES THAT DON’T FIT DAMMIT – THEREFORE, I HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR AND NO BLOODY SPACE!!  At this stage I think Volatile and Moody also decided to join the party. 

So having recently had my share of crazy visitors, I was a little unprepared when they started visiting the GS.  She woke up on Saturday and I immediately realised Dik Bek had slept over.  Dik Bek was soon joined by Teary and Irrational.  We were under attack – the Hormone Brigade were all systems go and closing in fast!  By this stage, I decided to invite Gat Vol to join the party (it was inevitable).  I needed to sort this situation out once and for all.  So I sat the psycho 2^nd Grader down and in a calm controlled manner said that there was only one way to solve this problem – Cake and Retail (C & R) Therapy.  DUH!

Ja, ja – I know, Oprah would have had a happy cadenza (and then joined us for cake!) and Dr Phil, would tell me to get real – but hey, they weren’t dealing with the 8yr old version of Rosemary’s baby.  So with Teary and Dik Bek in tow, the GS and I got into the car and did some pretty impressive low flying to the mall.  The only thing worse than dealing with the spawn of satan at home is trying to deal with it in the confines of a moving automobile. There is no easy way to escape! 

Now, granted the handling of this situation won’t put me in the running for “South Africa’s Next Top Model Mother” (Thanks Tyra) but come on girls, a little cake and retail therapy never hurt anyone.  Or did it?  While trying on skinny jeans (GS) and control top underwear (me) – I suddenly realised that maybe C & R Therapy wasn’t such a good idea after all.  Come to think of it, wasn’t that how I ended up with an overflowing cupboard full of clothes that don’t fit??????  Ooops!

But a good time was had by all.  Armed with bags of snazzy clothes (GS), sensible undergarments (me) and tummies full of Wimpy waffles (both of us) and coffee (me) – we headed on home.

Aaaah...life is good again - after cake and shopping!

When we got home, I was a little surprised to find the locks had been changed and we now had an extra security door – but I nevertheless persevered and eventually managed to get in to the house – with a little help from the Cape Town Fire and Rescue Service. Once inside, I had to coax the Husband out from under the bed and eventually managed to talk Josh out of the cupboard.  I convinced them that Chucky’s Bride was in a better mood and that the modelling show was about to begin – featuring the GS at least. 

I, on the other hand, decided not to subject the boys to even more trauma - seeing me in my control top undies and support bra, might just have pushed them over the proverbial edge!

Bring on the Government Shuffler’s teenage years!!



2 birds, 1 Savanna... I mean Stone

Ha!  The Husband was wrong after all.  My-Friend-With-a-life and I made plans to meet at 1pm today for gym and ta da... we kept our appointment !  We met, (at the Keg) and proceeded to work not ONLY our jaw muscles, as the Husband had predicted, BUT our right arm muscles AS WELL - so there!!!!  .... and he said this gym contract was going to be a waste of money!! That'll show him!

Yes boys and girls, I dutifully packed my gym bag and had very (very) good intentions of going to gym at 1pm - that is until I got an sms saying "Running late, shouldn't we meet for a Savanna instead" - now I ask you, what the hell kind of question is that??  Gym? Savanna? Gym? Savanna?

... and the LOSER is........

Now I've taught my children about "peer pressure" and have often used the tired old expression "if your friend jumped into the fire, would you join her?" - well when I was asked that question as a child I knew the right answer was "NO" and I've taught my kids the same thing.  BUT it's a whole other ball game when the question becomes "If your friend decided to drink Savanna instead of going to gym, would you join her?"  I mean, what should I have said, No??

Besides, despite what you may think, a fair amount of exercising was done in the 90mins we were at the Gym(Keg).  I mean, do you know how many times you lift your arm when drinking 2 Savanna's?  That's a whole lot of bicep curls right there!  Then laughing for 90mins gives your abdominals and core one hell of a workout.  Naturally we couldn't drink on empty stomachs, so we had a healthy Salad (with bacon, avo and feta).  Last but not least, my right foot and left hand had to do some serious maneuvering when I went racing off to the school to make sure I fetched my kids on time - I didn't want to be THAT mom (...the one who picks up her kids late because she's stuck at the Pub!)

So all in all it was a good session.  I'd had a kak day and while working out might have relieved some of the stress I was feeling, meeting up with my-friend-with-a-life enabled me to kill 2 birds with 1 ... I'd like to say stone, but we all know I really mean Savanna!! 

Besides the fact that certain muscles (mainly in the jaw) were active for an hour and a half, a good chin wag (moan) is far more rewarding (and cheaper) than therapy!

I was Free...... a Free-Wheeling!

It's been 3 weeks since I lasted posted on my Blog - Saturday the 16th of April to be precise.  I clearly remember wanting to post something on Sunday the 17th and was very chuffed that I was about to blog 2 days in a row... but then "something" happened (life?), combined with a trip to East London, followed by a string of public holidays and here we are 3 weeks later and still no post!  So I'm going to continue (and expand on) the post I planned to write 21 days ago - BUT believe it or not there have been some developments in this arena, which if you know me, is a HUGE achievement. But let's start at the beginning.

3 weeks ago:

I went out for a cycle.  Yes, me, I took my newly acquired bike and went out on the open road.  Granted, the bike had been sitting in our lounge for a few weeks and since I wasn't one to look a gift horse(bike) in the mouth, I decided to take it out and show it who's boss.  So I went out on a quiet road frequented by many many many (serious) cyclists.  

As I set off on the crisp Autumn morning, I felt like a million bucks.  The mountains and vineyards were the perfect backdrop as I cruised at a fairly impressive pace and I found myself thinking I had finally found "my sport" - this is something I could do and potentially do well!  Thoughts of the Cape Argus, Cape Epic and other extreme cycling events were swimming in head - I was on top of the world..... for a while.  Then it suddenly dawned on me that part of the reason my speed had been so impressive was that I was going downhill and that at some point I'd need to get all the way back up if I ever wanted to see my family again. 

Even though at this point I really felt like I could cycle the 17km's to Stellenbosh, I did the sensible thing and pulled into a wine farm (no, not for a tasting) but to turn around.  It was then that I realised just how steep the hill was and that going back up was going to be no picnic - which made me wish I had packed a picnic because the trek home was going to be a long one! 

But I took on the challenge and started digging deep, however, after about 100m, I had to admit defeat and did the only reasonable thing, I hopped off my bike and started to hoof it!  It was at this point that I was exposed to just how friendly the cycling fraternity is.  Every (and I mean every) cyclist that passed me, asked if I was ok.  Now I'm all for friendliness and roadside comeraderie (in fact that's one of the main reasons I ran the 2 Oceans half marathon years ago), but when you are panting like a 60 pack a day, 80 year old asthmatic with 1 functional lung, saying "yes, thank you, I'm ok, just taking a little break"... can come out as  "leave me the $%^# alone, can't you see I'm %^&*ing tired".  But no, everyone needed to make sure I was ok! 

Eventually I decided it was easier to cycle (albeit slowly) up the hill than it was to try and explain why I was walking, bike in hand.  It was no small feat making it up the hill, in fact, I must have provided some comic relief to some early morning commuters.  But I managed to make it home... just.

Nevertheless, I was proud of myself.  I had taken the bike out, had really worked hard (well as hard as one can when freewheeling down a hill) and made it back alive, if a little (alot) out of breathe.  I was keen to see just how far I had cycled, so later that afternoon, when the feeling returned to my ass, I took my car out and measured my route.  I was a little destraught when just around a corner, I suddenly saw my winefarm turning point and realised I hadn't actually gone THAT FAR afterall... WTF??  In fact, it was exactly 1.8km to the bottom of my hill... so my route had been a  GRAND TOTAL of 3.6km - again I say WTF?  Had I known it was so little, I think I might just have gone into the wine farm for some tasting to make the trip worth my while! 

Anyway... the exercise bug has bitten and that combined with the fact that I don't plan on being "The Fat Sister" at my brother's upcoming nuptials (in fact, screw Pippa Middleton, soon there'll be a facebook page dedicated to MY ass), it is all systems go with a new excercise and eaten plan.  Like the  saying goes, I am not just turning over a new leaf, but pretty much an entire forest!

I have subsequently joined the gym where my friend-with-a-life is a member. The sceptic Husband doesn't have much faith in this venture and is convinced the only muscles that will benefit from this 12 month contract will be those in my jaw! 

BUT more about my gym experience tomorrow... as well as why I have a 12 month contract instead of the more economical (if longer) 24 month contract.