To be or Not to be…I suppose that’s the question

I don’t know how many times a married person asks themselves this question and here I confess that I certainly have and not once. There have been times in my relationship that I’ve said to myself (although this is really the first time I say it to anyone else, never mind the hundreds of people who will read this) that marriage is not all it’s cracked up t be. Which is actually exactly the problem? What is it supposed to be cracked up to be and who set that benchmark? I suppose we have Barbie and Ken to blame.

And there have been times that out of frustration I also thought, there has to be more to life than this, and then a day later be thinking I could not love life more than I do right now, right here. I have said to him, I want my life as it was, I can’t go through another day of this and then with all that forgotten I could be caught saying: I can’t imagine life without him, it would be unbearable. More often than not I have felt quite schizophrenic, never knowing who and what I am from one moment to the next or even knowing what I want.

I’m sure you must be wondering by now, what on earth is she on about. Well. I’m going on about being married or single.

I am a thirty something year old female, been married for five of those and raising a family with what I consider to be a very good man (most of the time). I mean I wouldn’t be terribly honest if I said I think him wonderful all the time because one of my girlfriends may pitch up here and remind me off all the times I said he was the last person I want to see before my day of reckoning. But yes mostly I think he is a wonderful man, everything I deserve and more. 

I also find myself observing my single friends who seem to spend half their time staving off paranoia stemming from a paralysing fear and suspicion that they’re never going to find the one to share their dentures with and the other half pretending they don’t need him, possibly out of sheer exhaustion from looking . I was woken to this shocking fact while speaking to a school friend late last year whom I had just reconnected with through skype. We had been in primary together are the same age.  The conversation went something like this: 

Wendy how many kids do you have now?

3 I said.

Oh wow, I wish I could be you.

Me who looks at her life and thinks “is this all there is” said: Why would you want to do that to yourself? Do you know how much hard work this is and what a thankless job it is? At least you have your life. (ok I was very stressed last year, I even had a heart scare as a result of work pressure.

Her retort was: Wendy, I am in my early thirties, there are no marriageable men out here, I am still dating and getting into relationships that fizzle out after a couple of months, how long will I keep going on like this….what example am I setting for my nieces because even my youngest sister is now married. 

I just want someone whom I can love and will love me and work towards something together.

This put a new perspective to my situation ( this is what I had gotten and was now perhaps taking for granted)……so in that 30 seconds after her response I saw my marriage through lenses I hadn’t put on for a long time, maybe a couple of years.

 Just last week I went to lunch with a friend, one of my best friends and inevitably things moved on to the subject of men and children for a moment. Somewhere in the talk I said to her: Can you believe what IT did….and so I go off on a tangent about my domestic irritations whose sole origins are my other half….after my rant I ask, by the way, how’s it going with your boyfriend….I am expecting anything from which one to we got engaged but no, I get: am taking an oath of celibacy. 

At 35!!!!!!!!!!!

That will be like trying to get off a Swiss chocolate addiction but I do not say this. This is gonna be painful. I put on my: Oh no, things will get better don’t give up face, _but I’m not sure I’m pulling this off convincingly. All I want to say is:

What is going on out there?

I don’t actually have an answer or a solution here but am wondering, is this a dilemma that affects others too? Do people ever talk about it? Does everyone walk around looking like they have the recipe for the perfect relationship while inside are haunted by a niggling worry that all is not as it should be in their private little world?
I am really beginning to suspect that there is no ideal state of being outside of the one you are in. Being happy or sad while single or married is a direct result of what you decide to put into either state. I don’t know whether if I was a single thirty something I would be happy being single but neither do I really feel like being married is like having conquered the world. I suppose it feels like the right place to be at the right time for me….a natural progression in my journey of life because I strongly feel that my inner most desire is to love and be loved. So I suppose for better or worse, I’m in it for the long haul.

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Blog Haitus

I’ll be away from blog-ville for about a week or so due to some pressing business. I wonder how I will cope without everyone here. But I take heart in leaving you with the kind of love felt for Uncle John……….. This is the best of all loves. LOL

‘Twas Ever Thus

(In invitation of Thomas Moore)

I never reared a young gazelle, 

(Because you see, I never tried);

But had it known and loved me well, 

No doubt the creature would have died.

My rich and aged Uncle John

Has known me long and loves me well,

But still persists on living on-

I would he were a young gazelle.

I never loved a tree or flower;

But, if I had I beg to say

The blight, the wind, the sun or shower

Would soon have withered it away.

I’ve dearly loved my Uncle John,

From childhood to the present hour,

And yet he will go living on-

I would he were a tree or flower!

Henry Sambrooke Leigh

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Non Blogging Days

Are Sundays!!!!!!!

See you Monday….

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I Love Winter

Friends my I Love Winter post today is so late its now 17:00. Finally blogger has granted me access to my blog….how dependent I’ve become to the gods of technology…… Anyway this is what I wrote last night for this morning.
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I stand very corrected but I think most people on my side of the pole have gone through more than two thirds of their Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness. I’m reminded of this tonight because the chill in the air is seeping through to my bones. I’m thinking of checking in on my gloves right now so I can type without feeling compelled to stop and rub my hands together. But you know what? That’s a very small sacrifice to pay for the wonderful times that winter brings along. Yes I am one of a few I’m sure, the odd South Africans who really relish the cold weather.
In fact I wish SA was one of those snowy places, now that’s divine bliss. All those cozy days and nights all wrapped up with family, bonding and doing fun stuff together. In summer the world seems to go a little off kilter to me and I never know what to wear to look decent enough without suffocating. I dread my upcoming visit to West Africa for that reason. I suppose the off kilter bit stems from my control freak streak, I feel that in summer things are a little unhinged because its easy for everyone to be off in all directions doing their own things. I’m a homebody so the less I have to be out, the better. That’s just one of the reasons I love this season. The other is the food, which explains the lack of identifiable contours on my fabulous anatomy ( I’m an African woman with the inherent African signature in tow so I’m considered luscious at the least _ LOL). Oh I really laughed writing that _ in my own head by the way this is true, I tell myself all this to avoid ill advised self inflicted starvation practices disgused as “diets” (I wonder how bootylicious women from other continents get out of this one). Anyway, my family’s winter favourites are oxtail,  lamb shank, veggies and thick soups with homemade bread. Everyone loves mom in winter because I even venture into baking scones and muffins. I love having a house filled with smells of hearty cooking and baking when you step in from the cold, its just the best welcome.  Yum yum, I’m salivating (i’ll post one of my favorite chef’s/cook’s recipes for Greek Lamb Shank at the end – simple and so scrumptious you hope no uninvited guests will pitch in the middle of a meal). I’m not one for following recipes, I cook best when I wing it but following Graham;s lamb shank was one of my best cooking decisions. A sinful thigh filler, you are guaranteed to provide ample soft landing pads and grip points for your loved one after a couple of these in the winter. So you’ve been warned. Another reason for loving winter stems from my belief that people, myself included just dress better in winter. Most people seem to think summer is a time to loose all dress decorum and let loose of all sorts of unsightly bits best kept for the dark.

 And last of just four things i’ll dare mention as to why I love winter is that I secretly believe in one former life I lived in the Carpathian mountains and was mistress to the most beautiful and powerful vampire warrior to grace Transalvania’s peaks and in the other I was a viking warrior (ess). Yes, it takes all types…….lol

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Greek lamb shanks

Posted by Graham in Lamb, Meat on April 22, 2008 | 80 responses

What you need
4 lamb shanks – approx 1kg each bone in
salt and pepper
1 tablespoon flour
1 large onion, thinly sliced
1 tin chopped peeled tomatoes
3 celery sticks chopped
4 clove garlic, finely chopped
1/3 cup chicken stock/ red wine
1/2 teaspoon salt
a generous pinch of fresh oregano
1/4 teaspoon sugar
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon dry rosemary
1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
chopped parsley a generous pinch
The process
Salt and pepper the shanks, in a large pot brown the shanks in oil on all sides, then remove and set aside.
Soften the garlic and onions on a medium heat, add the meat and then add all the other ingredients, stir and simmer for 10-15 minutes until liquid has reduced by 1/2.
Pour everything into a casserole dish and cook in a 180 degrees celsius oven for one and a half hours, turning the shanks every 20 minutes.
This is good stuff folks, serve with mashed potato or polenta. Try the Lamb Souvlaki recipe if you are a Greek food fan.

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He whispered…….

I am ridden I said
With guilt don’t be he said
But it is life I said
Only a mass of tissue he said
How will I go on I said
There is no condemnation he said
But you’re only a physician I said
And so I should know he said
Go on, take care of yourself he waved
Oh my soul I cannot live I said
Be still, I have not left, He whispered….

Perhaps I should explain the copyright logo on this one. I’m considering using this as one of those passages you find before chapter 1, I’m not sure what the correct term for it is. If you know it please advise, and then tell me what you think?

That’s what it said, who am I to argue. hahaha

I write like
Charles Dickens

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

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I is for Imagination

I is for Imagination. This is something I wrote  awhile back (give or take a few word changes)and I wanted to share it with those who haven’t see it. That was before this morning’s wave of inspiration hit as can be seen in the next post.

An awesome imagination
I think a fantastic, awe-inspiring imagination is one with a proclivity for creating worlds, other worlds, unhampered by endings or limited to the temporal. It is an infinite spiral of thought only subject to the cicerone, in this case the thinker . Where sense and logic are whatchamacallits that hold strands of thought together but are never fetters or  the steer.

Where myth and legend is as absolute as the flesh and blood that summons them. Where the self is so lost that the magician that is him, is found.

An extraordinary imagination is where our banal reality looses substance and your world is……reality.

Quoting Neil Gaiman:

“THERE ARE MYTH-PLACES. They exist, each in their own way, some of them are overlaid on the world, others exist beneath the world as it is, like an underpainting.

My angels was stolen from Ken Paton’s Library

 There are moumtains. They are the rocky places you will reach before you come to the cliffs that border the end off the world, and there are caves in those mountains, deep caves that were inhabited long before the first men walked the earth. 

They are inhabited still“…… Anansie boys

                                                                 

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I cannot breath……

If life were fair, then I would not have seen the bullet wound on my younger brother’s side resembling, Christ’s on that fateful day. Or the ominous tale of a grotesque scar left by a  surgeon’s knife as it trailed from stirnum to pelvis. I would not have seen his emaciated torso, evidence of new found religiosity or self imposed judgement. It was hard to see a mind so ravaged by life’s cruelty that it made me understand how one succumbs to the hypocrisies of the likes of David “Moses” Berg,  W. D. Fard, Charles Taze Russell _at the promise of security and cleansing of a soiled soul. A mind empty of  memories of juvenile mirth but overcrowded with those of teenage deliquincy.
I believe even more now that it is true, having expectations of those to whom we are born is to volunteer for murder most foul. The cruelest kind where time seems to stand still, forever waiting for you to take your last breath saying: “I have had enough”.

My soul is guttered. I cannot breath. 

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An Awesome Imagination.

This is my thought today:

A fantastic, awe-inspiring imagination is one with a proclivity for creating worlds, other worlds, unhampered by endings or limited to the temporal. It is an infinite spiral of thought only subject to the cicerone, in this case the thinker . Where sense and logic are whatchamacallits that hold strands of thought together but are never fetters or  the steer.

Where myth and legend is as absolute as the flesh and blood that summons them. Where the self is so lost that the magician that is him, is found.

An extraordinary imagination is where our banal reality looses substance and your world is birthed as reality.


Quoting Neil Gaiman:

“THERE ARE MYTH-PLACES. They exist, each in their own way, some of them are overlaid on the world, others exist beneath the world as it is, like an underpainting.

My angels was stolen from Ken Paton’s Library

 There are moumtains. They are the rocky places you will reach before you come to the cliffs that border the end off the world, and there are caves in those mountains, deep caves that were inhabited long before the first men walked the earth. 

They are inhabited still“……

by: neil gaiman’ anansie boys 

                                                                  

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The year I grew up (almost)

If there is one thing I shall remember 2010 for (actually 3 things) it is that it was the year I started expanding my (1) literary, (2) musical and (3) artistic vistas. I shall remember it as the year that I took serious note of the pleasures afforded to one through creativity and bold imaginings. I realize now that those moments of serendipity which seemed to by happenstance collide with my 35th birthday were not in anyway fortuitous after all. That at some point we all get to a fork in the road or a defining space where we get to explore who we are.

I have always, always been a late bloomer in everything (yes even for that…) and should not be surprised therefore that in my mid thirties I should happen upon my defining fork 🙂 and discover just how deeply I love and appreciate art in all it’s forms. Just how much I admire the musicians, writers and artists behind it. So much so I dream about how to express this to the world with the little resources I have and my inarticulate meanderings.

December 2010 & January 2011 has also been a time when I discovered just how wonderful cyber space is and what a pity it is that it is so under utilized. But that’s another topic altogether.

However, it is really the internet that has gotten me going on this journey, boredom will have you do strange and wonderful things. As a mother of three, home in the holidays, just about losing my mind (almost about to beg & pay – mind you – straightjacketville for room & board) , the internet became my great escape and bosom buddy……. “I love you internet, I love you windows, I love you Google, I love you star trek…..”(ok i don’t know if star trek has anything to do with any of it) I love anything and everything that has to do with that place called space. The thought of being without the cyber universe is as painful as considering life without a fabulous Chardonnay, Oh God forbid that such a horrors should happen, life as we know it would lose all illusions of meaning.

Ok on a more restrained note, I have pondered and am still pondering the meaning of life on the temporal plane and although I have not yet found the answer I am convinced of the following: that the meaning of life is only found in the pages of a transcendent book, in the rhythm of a song densely saturated with evocative beats, in the configurations of a canvas where ideas modulate as does tonality in a melody………….

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