10 Things I Love

Obviously I love my family and friends, so that’s a given, this is the other stuff I love.

1: Monkeys

Always have, always will. Apparently I peed myself in a toy shop over a monkey teddy as a kid. I am not surprised. Little wees always come out when I see a monkey. Even the terrifying chimp who threw a cooldrink and poo at me a few years ago, though that may have been terror wee, rather than excitement wee. 

2: Wine

I remember grabbing my moms glass of wine off the kitchen counter when was about 11 or 12, I made strong eye contact with her and downed it. She was all “you are going to feel like shit”. Oh how I laughed… And then spent about half an hour firmly wedged in a doorway trying to act cool. 

Now wine is my BFF, I love all wine, cheap or expensive, I do not discriminate. Unless it’s sweet, then it can fuck off.*

3: TV

God, I love TV far too much, my tastes are extensive. Long Island Medium, Shameless (my absolute favorite show ever), Survivor, Vikings (hi Travis), House Hunters International, The Property Brothers and the Walking Dead to name a few. I only ever see the beginning of most episodes because I always fall asleep when I watch tv. But it still awesome.

4: Making Pretty Stuff

I am a Pinterest whore, I want to make it all. I don’t have much time now that I have spawned but I am currently turning a beautiful old antique kist (a small old cupboard thing?) which I bought off the lady who squats in my street, for R50. It’s going to be amazing. 

5: Cheese Platters

I love cheese, like a lot, but I have become allergic to quite a few cheeses and most cured meats. A bloody travesty if you ask me. My throat swells shut and I feel like I am going to die, but God that Gruyere is worth it. You will often see me at a picnic hiding behind a tree trying to choke down some Parma ham without ruining the party. This unfortunately also happens with champagne. I hear you all collectively gasp in sorrow for me. But I stay strong and keep on trying juuuust incase I am magically cured.

6: Reading

I read so much, I never actually sleep, I lie in bed and read entire books overnight. I have given up actual paper books and read on my iPad. I used to have a kindle but I stood on it while I was trying to kill a mosquito.

7: Cats

I want to have 10 cats who love me, but I have 1 cat who is quite frankly, a bit of a dickhead. I got her in 2004 and I love her so so much, but she hates almost everything and everyone. But I love Lola, she is my child. 

I used to have another amazing cat, his name was Henry and I brought him home from a Kibbutz in Israel in 2000. Someone had squished him as a kitten, he was such a mess and I wanted to help him. He ended up being my partner in crime, he used to come to the kibbutz pub with me. I refused to come home without him and my awesome parents flew him back to SA with me. He retired at my parents house and spent a wonderful 10 years riding on their dogs and being the most human cat I have ever encountered. I still miss him 😦

8: Plett- more specifically Keurbooms river (Sanmarino)

We had family caravan holidays there every year from when I was in junior school. It is where I have met some of the best friends I still have today.

It was the most fun ever, someone even once did a poo on the ping pong table and made a smiley face out of BB gun pellets in it. Good times! I want to live there.

9: Blue Things

I am mildly obsessed with the colour blue, from duck egg to navy. I actually can’t tolerate reds and yellows much, especially in my house. Everything I own is neutrals and cool colours. Even my plates and dishcloths. Isla may grow up thinking she is colour blind and then when she goes to school and sees a red lunchbox she will be like “what the fuck is that?”.

10: Pimple Popping Videos

Eeeeeeeeee! I could watch them all. When I used to have a job (please look forward to 10 things I hate) I watched pimple videos for hours on end. So so so bad but I can’t stop myself. Picture our room at 1am, lights off, little grunts of pleasure. It’s not me and Rupert bumping uglies, it’s me watching pimple porn!
*Please note I have been enjoying a delicious bottle of Chenin whilst writing this.

The finest member of the cat species. Lola.



Oh hiiiiii….

God, the second Leigh mentioned my blog on her blog I felt every letter of the alphabet fall out of my brain and now this is pretty much guaranteed to be shit from now on. So I’m sorry, it was good while it lasted.

In the meanwhile, it started walking. Holy moly! I am thrilled, it’s great, she now ignores the cats water and does not have disgusting filthy hands anymore. I love it, I could spend hours watching her. She walks with her shoulders hunched up around her neck and resembles a tiny zombie. And she is super weird so I get to see so many different versions of my tiny baby zombie walk past me throughout the day.

Baby zombie with a bottle of nurofen in her mouth, drool pouring out.

Baby zombie sniffing her clothes which she digs out the wash.

Baby zombie chewing on a 3 day old fishfinger she found under the couch.

Baby zombie “talking to granny” on the tv control.

Baby zombie clutching fists full of cat hair like a little prize.

Baby zombie washing her juice bottle in the toilet 😦

It’s relentless. But at least she sleeps really well now.

She has also discovered food, she can’t go past the yoghurt section at the shop without screaming “Nomy nom noem” and making grabby hands at it. It’s pretty much EXACTLY how I act in the wine aisle.

So this will be short and sweet, I have three other posts on the go, but they all seem like they are not quite there yet. Anything you want to know about me? Just ask below and it may inspire a post. I am considering writing about my 10 days in the Transkei where I stayed with Rastas, lived an arachnophobes worst nightmare and had to bath in a river. (It was amazing and traumatic).

Baby zombie, cleaning shit.

Arts and Crafts and Goth Baby.


I know, let’s paint! This is such an awesome idea, I am the best mother ever!

Woo! This is awesome, why don’t we do this all the time?

I immediately regret this decision. Bright side: she looks like a baby goth and that’s hilarious.

Oh god!

Oh shit!

Fuck it, I give up.


Is it too early for wine? 

Nope, definitely not too early for wine. 

Super excited about stuff…

I think I could possibly be the most irritable person in existence. There are multiple factors contributing to this, enjoy…
The heat:

Ya ya ya, I know you are hot too, but you don’t have two boobs the size of a head (each) attached to your chest all day. These fuckers radiate heat. 

It’s just so grossly hot and has been for weeks, it’s relentless and it makes me smell like I have been spooning a donkey all day (The result of running around after Isla and having a physical job). I actually drove to a bottle store the other day and hung out in the beer freezer for fun.

The flies:

This comes with the heat, I live in some kind of weird fly zone, it’s bad, like really bad. I tell people it’s bad and then they come over and they are like “Oooooh, it really is bad”.

At any given time, there is a fly on or at least 10cm away from me. The fuckers. And they take their job as a pest very seriously. They really enjoy flying really slowly and landing on my face. They adore my kitchen, it’s impossible to cook at the moment. If I had to count, I am pretty sure there is an average of about 8 flies in every room this very second. 

Cue Andre Agassi the fly slayer… My darling husband has one of those electric tennis racket and spends his days electrocuting flies. If you have never seen them, it looks like a tennis racket except instead of the fishing gut looking stuff (I know fuck all about tennis) it has little metal strips. You essentially play tennis with flies, but, instead of sending a ball flying, you get a big blue spark and a popping noise. If you are very lucky, you also get to enjoy the smell of burnt fly.

So my days pretty much consist of seeing Rupert launching himself across the room, pop, blue spark… Roasted fly carcass. It’s delightful.

My hair:

I have briefly mentioned the awfulness that happens roughly 3 months after you have a baby. Half of your hair falls out. It’s gross and it makes you feel sad. I survived it.

What I was not prepared for is the regrowth, I literally have two hairstyles competing for attention right now. One is my normal long pretty blonde hair. The other is the deranged hillbilly cousin of my nice hair. It is curly, some of it is orange, it likes to stand up like I have been shocked (by the fly zapper?) and is now about 12cm long. I look like a dumbass. It’s a halo of shit hair. 

Luckily my awesome Rupert has treated me to a trip to see my friend in Johannesburg for the weekend, first time away from Isla. Penny, I hope you are ready, we are going to down cases of wine and go see strippers! Only kidding, we are both moms, we are going to pass out on the couch after a glass of white waaaan and talk about poo all weekend.

On a side note, Rupert has just come home with his weekend supplies, it’s the manliest shopping bag I have ever seen:

Box of sausagerolls

Pork rashers

Hamburger patties

Basting sauce


Fly candle

Food Glorious Food

Isla had major reflux so we were told to start her on solids when she turned 4 months old, God I was excited, I had these visions of myself as this Pioneer woman, growing my own veggies, lovingly making beautiful healthy food for my darling daughter to eat with much merriment. I was going to blend the shit out of all the healthiest foods I could get my hands on and keep her ever evolving palate happy.

She had other plans for me.

Getting Isla to eat some food is like trying to get toothpaste back in the tube. Her little lips clamp shut and she shouts “no no no” at us. She has “texture issues” I used to roll my eyes so hard I would get whiplash when anyone told me their kid has texture issues. I would laugh to myself… Texture issues my arse, your child is just a shithead.

But no, as penance, my child literally hates most textures when it comes to food. She will projectile if I try to feed her avo. Even after trying a few times over 8 months, fountain vomit. Most moms get to feed their kids noodles, so cheap and easy. Not me, she will rip it out her mouth so fast as if I am feeding her warm cat shit. 

I still have dozens of blocks of lovingly handmade baby food frozen in my freezer that she has just decided to boycott. So now we are bribing her with Squish bags and attempting to get her to eat fruit and veg and bits of meat. We have to actually trick her some days… Ambush her if you will… 

Look at the kitty cartoon Isla! Ninja roll and shove a spoon of butternut and chicken into her mouth. 

Here, look at this amazing book! Sneak up behind her and shove spoon of fish and peas into her mouth.

Both parents prancing about like pterodactyls with spoons taped to our fingers like some grotesque middle aged Edward Spoon Hands…. Sneaking in spoons of whatever the hell we can find into her mouth every time she opens it up in confusion.

I may be to blame, I am so fussy in such stupid ways, I literally can not even touch the outside of a jar of peanut butter. It’s up there with spiders. No mayo except on potato salad (I know, right?), no tomato unless it’s a sauce, gherkins = throw entire plate of food away. My list is long, weird and extensive.

It’s all good though, she likes flings, they are SUPER nutritious and she can eat hundreds of them.