tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54112857640823887752024-03-05T00:32:10.175-08:00kambabe's thoughtskambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.comBlogger126125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-18017777256498395082020-04-07T01:24:00.001-07:002020-09-22T02:20:34.689-07:00The best intentions<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYGEhnq-4Ur9OF4ftH6_Wq1A_wfGjAcRpgPL0TIBslO3Qi00HZ-uiYuhrR3lQX_ISJpBs6NW-lzPmyHlPtms9Fn0Xhervzk-VkbYD85d3loeu4sGaRg_bUlvRsAhe69vhVdAPiFt0A2bMe/s1600/download.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="166" data-original-width="303" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYGEhnq-4Ur9OF4ftH6_Wq1A_wfGjAcRpgPL0TIBslO3Qi00HZ-uiYuhrR3lQX_ISJpBs6NW-lzPmyHlPtms9Fn0Xhervzk-VkbYD85d3loeu4sGaRg_bUlvRsAhe69vhVdAPiFt0A2bMe/s400/download.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Sindi Starr stood on stage looking out at
the crowd, squinting slightly while the spotlights beamed down on her. “Is
everyone doing OK” she bellowed through her microphone. The crowd responded
with a resounding “Yeah” all except for one person sitting alone in the corner
of the auditorium. His delayed response “I’m not okay” echoed in the silence
after and was captured on the roving camera that panned across the crowd. He
caught Sindi’s eye and she stopped, raised her hand and pointed to him. Two men
in army like uniforms walked off the stage and went towards him. As they
approached him, he stood up, apprehensively and froze in place. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">They took him by the arms and led him out
of the auditorium, through the side entrance and up the stairs to the backstage
area. Sindi shouted to her audience “Alright everyone, I’m going to take a
20 minute break, so go get your drinks and snacks and I’ll meet you all back here
in 20 minutes for the second half of the show”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Backstage Sindi walked towards the man with a look of curiosity on her face. Unlike most pop stars, she wasn’t a Diva. She
was a rare breed, hardworking, caring and honest. Her extensive vocal range
had won her many awards and accolades over the past 5 years since she started
singing professionally but her heart was pure and she had a genuine love for
her audience because she knew that without them, she would be nothing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Hi” she said, holding out her hand to him,
he took it with a firm grip. “Hi” he said back. “I’m Sindi” she said. He gave
out a little giggle and said “No shit”. Then he felt bad, hung his head and
pretended to glance at his shoes. She raised one eyebrow and gave him a pursed
look. He looked up and said “My bad, sorry, I’m Dave” She gave one of her body
guards a reassuring look and he stepped back to give them space. “Well Dave,
what seems to be troubling you? Are you not enjoying the show?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">“No, no” he said in an apologetic tone “The
show is great, it’s just that…..I’m all alone. You see I was meant to be
sharing this with my wife, she’s the real fan you know. I bought tickets for
our one year wedding anniversary which was a week ago. We went on a cruise for
5 days and landed back home yesterday, and since it’s Valentine’s Day I thought
this was the perfect ending to a week of love and celebration.” She nodded her
head, “I see” she said. “So where is she tonight?” she asked. “Well, that’s
just it. On the last day of the cruise she started feeling ill. We think she
must have gotten food poisoning or something. When we arrived home yesterday
she started with a fever and took to her bed for the rest of the day”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">“Oh the poor thing” said Sindi “is she
feeling any better today?” He turned away trying hard not to look like he
was fighting back tears. “No, last night she ended up in hospital and is on
a respirator as she couldn’t breathe. The doctors don’t know what is causing it
and I’m not allowed in to see her but she told me in no uncertain terms that I
am not to let the tickets go to waste and that I had to come, for her. So here
I am” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">“Well” said Sindi “Let’s not let her down
shall we” She reached down towards the table next to her and gave him a signed
photo of herself. “Here take this and give it to her with my love.” He took the
photo from her hand and broke down in tears. “Thank you, he said” wiping the
tears as they rolled down his cheeks. “There, there” she said, as she reached
towards him she grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him close towards her for
a hug. He wrapped his arms around her back and they stood there for moment,
hugging. Then she stepped back and said “Come get out your cellphone and let’s
take a photo together for your wife” He reached inside his jacket pocket,
composed himself and the smiled while taking a photo of the two of them, cheek
to cheek. “Thank you for this” he said “My wife will be so thrilled”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">“No problem, Dave” Sindi said, giving him a
broad smile. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a show to finish” and just before
she turned to walk away, she leaned forward and gave him one last squeeze.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Dave walked away feeling elated. He couldn’t
believe what had just happened and he had the proof! When Claire was better and
out of hospital he would try and recreate the concert by playing one of Cindi’s
albums in the background while they enjoyed a candlelit dinner for two. He
didn’t bother going back into the auditorium for the second act, instead he
went home with thoughts of hope swirling around in his head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Sindi went back to her manager and said
“George, I have had a rethink and I want to change things up a little” George,
looking visibly stressed, looked back at her “What did you have in mind?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">“I was thinking, this is Valentine’s day
2020 after all, let’s spread the love a little more” George nodded and said “Go
on..” his voice trailed off as if he was deep in thought. “Well you’re not going
to like it but I’m gonna do it anyway ok and no arguing about it” George nodded
once more and shrugged his shoulders as if to signal his surrender. “What is
the one thing all humans crave? What does everyone want from me?” George looked
puzzled “Love and human contact” she said. “So for the second half of my show,
I’m going to come down from my ivory tower and walk amongst the crowd while
singing” George looked concerned “But Sindi, that’s not a wise move, there are
so many, many things that could go wrong”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">“I know George and that’s why you have the
gestapo over there to protect me. Look I’m going to spread the love and I’m not
backing down on this. I will try and touch each and every person here tonight,
personally and physically. I will shake hands, hug and be there to give them a
little piece of me and then we will end the show with a slow calm song so the
crowd doesn’t get riled up. We could even do a crowd surf and they can all
carry me around the stadium”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">George was pensive but knew better than to
argue with Sindi once her mind was made up. “Alright then” he said. “Almost
time to go on, best you get cracking with your costume change” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">“No” Sindi said “Leave the headgear and
gloves, I want to do this the old fashioned way, skin to skin contact” and she
walked out onto the stage to the sound of fifty thousand cheering voices.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-7018405570021001872016-09-06T05:09:00.003-07:002022-06-10T03:20:17.722-07:00Future...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim8VFzR5TGT600VoruaIJg5Uwoe07OZ8hl6ZMxlO0um8eVDXjvFIJoFI2fsP2WAbEhO-gu6dnnE2FaRQkKW4UXji0twP-AJzkNgMvOGfbSKperbAk6yhFK-3gOjpibXiNHYrqfRxlkXzMU/s1600/1231493_10151516536385378_573375602_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim8VFzR5TGT600VoruaIJg5Uwoe07OZ8hl6ZMxlO0um8eVDXjvFIJoFI2fsP2WAbEhO-gu6dnnE2FaRQkKW4UXji0twP-AJzkNgMvOGfbSKperbAk6yhFK-3gOjpibXiNHYrqfRxlkXzMU/s320/1231493_10151516536385378_573375602_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Future...<br />
<br />
How did we get here?<br />
No one really knows.<br />
Obstacles and trials<br />
a heart that cared<br />
a grandchild smiles.<br />
<br />
How did I get here?<br />
Slipped through your dreams<br />
over mountains and mole hills<br />
and then gentle streams.<br />
<br />
How did you get here?<br />
Out of the mire<br />
riding a Trojan horse<br />
you came to inspire.<br />
<br />
Where are we going?<br />
It's anyone's guess<br />
two steps forward 3 steps back<br />
oh well let's not stress.<br />
<br />
<br />kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-22212219451882107592015-05-20T08:18:00.000-07:002015-05-20T08:18:05.857-07:00You<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIXsqDLTOhk1m9ARR_eIFSdNAXTY0KzdCk2ECqZm5qVbVc-MiLUNtIUkb7-2ogxmXU3mEblu6ceEBaNgYEq7chz903tpGAZB1L-p8HPqGKX_ZiEZARD8_7VCD-3959c99Dt6CT7VzxS_tz/s1600/burning_passion_by_sandymanase-d5o6ejr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIXsqDLTOhk1m9ARR_eIFSdNAXTY0KzdCk2ECqZm5qVbVc-MiLUNtIUkb7-2ogxmXU3mEblu6ceEBaNgYEq7chz903tpGAZB1L-p8HPqGKX_ZiEZARD8_7VCD-3959c99Dt6CT7VzxS_tz/s320/burning_passion_by_sandymanase-d5o6ejr.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i><b>You</b></i><br />
<br />
You obliterated my future.<br />
You destroyed my perceptions of love- they were wrong.<br />
You ruined me for any future relationships- there can be none.<br />
You tore down my walls of self loathing and doubt.<br />
You annihilated my insecurities.<br />
<br />
<i><b>You</b></i><br />
<br />
You shattered my expectations of normal.<br />
You entice my very being with all that you are.<br />
<br />
<i><b>You</b></i><br />
<br />
Not content to simply get under my skin, you seeped into my blood stream and your essence flows through my veins.<br />
<br />
<i><b>You</b></i><br />
<br />
I never came looking for you and yet you found me.<br />
You are a part of me now and forever.<br />
<br />
<b>You</b><br />
<br />
Your scent entices me and lingers when you are not there.<br />
Your touch excites me and I feel alive.<br />
<br />
<i><b>You</b></i><br />
<br />
You challenge me.<br />
You stimulate me.<br />
You intrigue me.<br />
You have changed me.<br />
<br />
<i><b>You</b></i><br />
<br />
I am completely and utterly enamoured by you.<br />
<br />
<i><b>You</b></i><br />
<br />
Sometimes my dreams take me back to a dark world before you and I wonder if you are real but then I wake up and you are beside me and I am content.<br />
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<br />kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-67896292146502071022015-05-18T06:42:00.000-07:002015-05-18T06:46:44.444-07:00Shedding some load....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1JqNg3zG7xplgIeL27nN5gAHtT-xuvjLWgg1LuONqhWU0slHMa96DQ9UEv7idsGKDo-oGSWCiWzFWYWC5A2UfEO9LVKCXOfZpOlh36OAT6YKXzszvWNhocDsksNjMgwWrn3KE2GKd0mES/s1600/Loadshedding1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1JqNg3zG7xplgIeL27nN5gAHtT-xuvjLWgg1LuONqhWU0slHMa96DQ9UEv7idsGKDo-oGSWCiWzFWYWC5A2UfEO9LVKCXOfZpOlh36OAT6YKXzszvWNhocDsksNjMgwWrn3KE2GKd0mES/s320/Loadshedding1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Shedding some load...<br />
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I know that load shedding is a pain in the arse and seems to come at the most inconvenient of times but my ever optimistic brain has learned to see the bright side. (pun intended)</div>
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My husband and I are early risers which also means we are usually in bed pretty early too (yeah we are old) After dinner we chat for a little and then retire to our bedroom to watch series. Last week we had a bout of load shedding during our 'series time' as my laptop was not fully charged we decided we would sit in the lounge and chat fo half of the time and then watch one episode of our current series as my battery would probably only last that long. We started playing 'who am I' A game where one person thinks of someone and the other has to guess who it is by asking only 20 questions. While playing this game the lights came on and we realised that we had been playing for two hours.</div>
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When my step kids came to stay later on in the week, they joined in too and we played some more. Now I know a lot has been said about technology free time and that we should switch off and connect as real human beings every now and then, but how many of us actually do that. These load shedding times have forced us to do just that and instead of moaning about it, I have decided to take this opportunity to spend my time wisely. So we can't change it and we have to endure it, we may as well make it pleasant.</div>
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Today in my classroom a group of girls were playing in the kitchen corner during free play, when one of them them said; "Let's play load shedding". I watched curiously as they made a picnic on the floor with the toy food and pretended to light imaginary candles while chatting to each other.</div>
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I imagine this is what must be happening all around Cape Town during load shedding. Families are connecting, having conversations and getting to know one another. I'll light a candle to that.</div>
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<br />kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-23623189123106047102014-11-19T07:24:00.001-08:002014-11-19T07:24:34.342-08:00Teaching and parenting.....they are the same thing but different.<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Every year around this time when our academic year is drawing to a
close, I stop and reflect on my students. I reflect on their year and what they
have learned. I think about what they were like in January and how little they
were. I compare it to what they have accomplished during the year and where
they are now all the while knowing that I was instrumental in that growth. That
knowledge gives me pleasure and I feel like my life has a purpose. I do get a
little sad knowing that we have to say goodbye. I tend to go all introspection
mode during the last few weeks of school but not today, today I started
thinking about</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><b><i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">all</span></i></b><b><i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></i></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">the children I have taught since 1992! All the parents I have met and
all of their quirks.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-ZA;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Some were fond memories, some were funny and some were sad. I thought
about the ones I really really tried so hard to help (you know the difficult
ones) and what a difference it made when the parents were working together with
me towards a common goal. And then I thought about teaching, academics and the
way we cross over sometimes into being a surrogate parent and vice versa.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Did you know that you can teach a child to read and write from a very
young age but they won't be emotionally ready till much later. You see there is
so much focus on academics these days (and yes I agree our educational
standards are not where they should be in grade school and yes for love of god
we need better literacy and numeracy stats) So for context, I am only talking
about preschool here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Parents if there is a problem with your child academically their teacher
will inform you! Halfway through the first term of school, alarm bells will go
off and we can usually tell if your child needs extra help. So don't worry
about the academic side of things in preschool, unless the teacher says you
must. Rather (and here is a great concept) how about you parent your child
instead and leave the academic teaching to the teachers. I'm not saying don't
be interested in your child's education. I love it when parents are involved
and want to know about their child's school day. But......<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I have had parents placing so much emphasis on rote counting up to 20
(even 100) in perfect sequence because they thought it was an important math
skill. Well it's not, unless your child understands the concept of each number
fully, he has just learned a nice little poem. Numbers are an abstract concept
to little ones and rattling off a bunch of them in an order is not maths, it
shows that your child has memory skills. But you know what its okay, you didn't
know because you didn't spend 4 years studying early childhood development. So
leave the academics to us and concentrate on the real lessons in life. The ones
that you need to be teaching your child. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Here they are (in case you have forgotten) Teach your child to:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><b>Share</b>, especially if he is an only child, he may never have had to share
his toys at home so it will be very difficult for him to grasp this concept
when he goes to school.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><b>Love</b>, not superficially but with his whole heart. You do this by loving
him, unconditionally. This will also help him to love himself and build up
confidence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><b>Responsibility</b>, yes even a preschooler can be responsible. Give him a
pet to look after, his job could be to feed it and love it. As they get older
they can clean out their pet’s living space. Looking after something is a
valuable gift you can give your child.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><b>Manners</b>, being polite and <b>social skill</b>s. Integrating socially is such an
important lesson. Learning to value people and friendships for who they are not
how many toys they have. (I know some grownups who still struggle with this
concept). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><b>Honesty and trust</b>, never betray your child's trust. It will come back to
haunt you when they are teenagers. They see you gossiping about your friends
and take note. They see you telling that little white lie and take note. They
see you! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Most of all teach them to have <b>fun</b>...... the learning will follow naturally.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Children are always learning, everywhere they go, and they take in
everything they see, hear and experience. I love how their minds are like
little sponges, soaking up their surroundings. This is one of the reasons I
love teaching preschoolers, their inquisitive nature and willingness to learn.
I would far rather teach them than teenagers because they already know
everything!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-1018670749707184542014-11-13T05:58:00.001-08:002014-11-13T06:05:56.272-08:00Vintage #Blogvember (late post)Day 9 of #Blogvember: Take a photo of Vintage....<br />
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This is in our kitchen, we have not used it yet but it is an original Dover wood burning stove.<br />
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If we ever run out of electricity we can still cook or bake in this. Such a treasure to have.<br />
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I also like really pretty old tea sets which is really funny since all the pretty vintage things we have in our house comes from the kitchen. (a place I really don't like to spend a lot of time in).</div>
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This stove reminds me of an era without electricity an era of hard labour and very little luxury. I can almost imagine a woman who stayed at home to cook and clean while her husband went out to work in the coal mine. Her sole purpose in life was to bear his children, provide him with meals, a clean home and a sympathetic ear.</div>
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In almost stark contrast to the above picture, the one below reminds me of a different age. One of Marie Antoinette and opulence.</div>
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This tea cup is Royal Albert fine bone china which we found in my husband's parents house. This was part of a series of cups called Flower of the month. It has July written inside it which was his mom's birthday month.</div>
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I love the colours and the elegance of it, the fact that it is feminine, delicate and pretty.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Royal Albert fine bone china<br />
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It quietly tells me of days spent sipping tea and eating sweet cakes while sunbathing in the conservatory. Children playing on the well manicured lawn and men in top hat and tails.<br />
Isn't it amazing how a single item, piece of music or a saying can conjure up such imagery in your mind and transport you to a different place. Long live our imaginations! Modern technology has not been able to kill it yet.<br />
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kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-32746402689324976212014-11-13T05:18:00.002-08:002014-11-13T05:20:49.846-08:00My BrightRock LoveChange competition entryI have blogged extensively on this subject so you are forgiven for thinking you have read this before but since I didn't make it to the finals I thought I would share my entry.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWueka5ZxWIbpVzyAhoVrBgrBBcH89U_zRD80B3q3EoWhhmMfyQlS50mv6-iCUydGJh2vcTsP385sSaNahbyi7CyOJqwUq_F29nGX1TvxWCx2PB_27IQuiWURoDJIyzJwcIMapPbRpkNXq/s1600/love-is-just-a-word-until-someone-special-gives-it-a-meaning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWueka5ZxWIbpVzyAhoVrBgrBBcH89U_zRD80B3q3EoWhhmMfyQlS50mv6-iCUydGJh2vcTsP385sSaNahbyi7CyOJqwUq_F29nGX1TvxWCx2PB_27IQuiWURoDJIyzJwcIMapPbRpkNXq/s400/love-is-just-a-word-until-someone-special-gives-it-a-meaning.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Happy to be in my comfort zone I
was always a little afraid of change. My adult life started when I got married
at 16 and become a mom. I was happy for a while until one day I was not. I
reflected upon my life and started noticing the things I overlooked. I was such
an optimistic person, I kept focusing on the positive and somehow that
overshadowed the negative but there comes a point in your life when you can no
longer gloss over things and you realise that you have to deal with them. I
became depressed and even attempted suicide. What happened to happy me? Until
one day I was 37 years old and asked for a divorce.<br />
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He resisted, my family
resisted and so I gave in…for a little while. </div>
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I tried to make him see that we
were no longer happy and have not been for some time. I listed all the things I
was unhappy about our relationship. His response was “I was like that when you
married me, I haven’t changed.” That was
it right there, I kept thinking, no hoping things would change, that he would
change but he never did. I told him the problem was that I had changed, I grew
up. I wasn’t that little 16 year old girl anymore. I was a grown woman with
wants and needs that were not being fulfilled within our marriage. I saw no way
out other than freedom. I began to join social networks looking for friends who
will be there for me when I leave. I told myself I can be an independent woman.
I lied! I was scared, where would I go? My pride would not allow me to skulk
back to my mom who was violently opposed to me leaving. What about my children?
How will I sustain myself? I had never been on my own, ever. How do you leave
everything that you have ever known your whole adult life? I began to doubt the
fact that I deserved more. The uncertainty of the future was daunting. And then I met <b>HIM</b>!<br />
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The <i><b>him</b></i> that changed everything!!! He encouraged me to be strong, he
offered me shelter with no strings attached but all the while I fell deeper and
deeper in love with him. We could not deny our feelings but tried to fight it
for the sake of others, knowing that neither of us was in any position to start
a new relationship until our current ones were completely in our past. I held
back for a while, hesitated and procrastinated. Not realising that I was
putting my happiness on hold for the sake of others. Until one day with help
and a nudge from new friends and circumstances I jumped, head first into a new
relationship, into an unknown future, into my happiness. I have known more joy, seen more things, been
to more places in the last 5 years with my new partner than I have ever
experienced in my entire adult life.
Comfort zone? What’s that? Something designed to keep you stuck in a rut
forever.<br />
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Don’t be afraid of an unknown
future, sometimes life can surprise you with things you didn’t even know you
were capable of. Talents you never knew you had until someone cared enough to
encourage you to explore new avenues. I have a new job, I met siblings I knew
of but never met until my partner helped me find them. My life is completely
different and I am grateful every day for making that change because without
it, I would still be that sad unhappy person I came to loathe.</div>
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I am once again optimistic about
my future, my life, love and everything else in between. Sure I have bad days
like everyone else but they are manageable with the right person by my side.</div>
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You can view the finalists of the BrightRock LoveChange competition here: <a href="http://changeexchange.brightrock.co.za/community/lovechange-competition/" target="_blank">BrightRock LoveChange finalists</a> my husband is one of them! :)</div>
kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-76597412235262205072014-11-11T08:11:00.001-08:002014-11-11T09:39:03.591-08:00My favourite restaurantDay 8 #Blogvember: What is your favourite restaurant....<br />
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I initially didn't want to do this post as my blog is not for advertisement. I don't do blog giveaways and there is no advertisements on my blog. It is simply an outlet for me to share, regardless of whether anyone reads it or not. I didn't want to have this post seem like a giant advertisement for a particular establishment and so I procrastinated about it and now I am 3 days behind. So here goes...... my favourite restaurant and why.</div>
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So technically it's not really a restaurant, it's a pub. They do have a kitchen and they do serve food, so it's a pub slash restaurant and they serve awesome pizza. I love the Toad on the road because it is 2 minutes drive from home and only a 20 minute walk if for some reason I am unable to drive myself home. Their prices are reasonable, I know most of the waiters names and I love the gorgeous view of the mountain from the courtyard.</div>
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In a nutshell The Toad on the Road has become our home away from home.</div>
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Scott and I have spent many a happy night there people watching. It is our go to place when we have no plans but want to get out for a bit.</div>
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This is where we go to:</div>
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Have a few drinks</div>
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Eat a meal.</div>
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Celebrate a birthday, promotion, good day</div>
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Drown our sorrows when we have had a bad day.</div>
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Meet friends.</div>
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Have a bachelor party.</div>
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Unwind from the week/weekend.</div>
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Make bad decisions.</div>
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This is where our dignity is left some Sunday evenings and why Monday mornings hate The Toad.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The awesome downstairs bar</td></tr>
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<br />kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-80681029467977533422014-11-11T07:29:00.000-08:002014-11-11T07:29:04.129-08:00What I am watching right now....Day 7 #Blogvember: <br />
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Favourite TV series you are currently watching.....<br />
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My husband and I are not big on watching television. We have a TV but no aerial so it can't connect to any signal. It is used exclusively by his children as a monitor for watching DVDS.<br />
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Having said that, we do watch series that I download on my laptop. If we are really enjoying a series we tend to devour a whole season in the space of a few days.<br />
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We have seen most of the latest series out there but at present we are watching .....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhANtRQOiaJVgVLHu-pCAOsqNw5YAHlGq0GaJIt4cbgrd6tCcS7Mm9xf3qg2P0VYBF4PxU-EGw7woGABQRZVRr04K6-5bAfgDP1CxhLxtdm7p9UFmOxDC7SyokN_qu_iy3lH1j_7ZgcmafP/s1600/homeland2_2351041b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhANtRQOiaJVgVLHu-pCAOsqNw5YAHlGq0GaJIt4cbgrd6tCcS7Mm9xf3qg2P0VYBF4PxU-EGw7woGABQRZVRr04K6-5bAfgDP1CxhLxtdm7p9UFmOxDC7SyokN_qu_iy3lH1j_7ZgcmafP/s320/homeland2_2351041b.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Yes, I know we are a little late to this party, we are only on season 1 of Homeland but enjoying it so far.<br />
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Of course a blog post about a TV series would not be complete without a little mention of my favourite TV series of all time...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I just love this picture of Aaron Paul and Brian Cranston</td></tr>
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<br />kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-86307931692229044722014-11-09T02:23:00.001-08:002014-11-09T02:23:06.893-08:00It's all about the shoes.....about the shoes.....no flats...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOOrVBf8a_lpvakDQnvWoAYTnnETI4llLr8AqRuFnrL-9-ILd3-pBiP7Yj7pYd0PVzy5Op-dT60YuzdvNJ-WqEl0d5G9wD-01S886etoaHMxjkc4-gDcaAGn8xYnMmulwX_1S7QBnuczRa/s1600/SAM_1905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOOrVBf8a_lpvakDQnvWoAYTnnETI4llLr8AqRuFnrL-9-ILd3-pBiP7Yj7pYd0PVzy5Op-dT60YuzdvNJ-WqEl0d5G9wD-01S886etoaHMxjkc4-gDcaAGn8xYnMmulwX_1S7QBnuczRa/s1600/SAM_1905.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my standard work shoes</td></tr>
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Day 6 #Blogvemebr.... Take a photo of your shoes...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFzJ-GWyDHkEri268PXIizh86993SnB6JUiHri-dzXLp2FYmtlHAoRWlVjTM5TOU3f0h8hEP4MI33CsHMKXAsc7NQAdOKjijaGlZ1JTPc70KQ92Aeck5euqGaqlOzXZJvdIEusTYam2A6G/s1600/takeawalkinmyshoes1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFzJ-GWyDHkEri268PXIizh86993SnB6JUiHri-dzXLp2FYmtlHAoRWlVjTM5TOU3f0h8hEP4MI33CsHMKXAsc7NQAdOKjijaGlZ1JTPc70KQ92Aeck5euqGaqlOzXZJvdIEusTYam2A6G/s1600/takeawalkinmyshoes1.jpg" height="190" width="400" /></a></div>
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What is it with women and shoes? I have no idea what the fascination is, but I am happy to say I am one of them. I am short, really short but when I have a pair of heels on I feel normal. I don't really like flats, they do nothing for my confidence. After a week of living with Scott back in 2010 I walked into the kitchen bare feet one night and he looked at me and said "Were you always this short?" That was the first time he had ever seen me without heels on. </div>
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Obviously being a preschool teacher wearing heels to work is not really practical and for this reason I do have some flats, so in no particular order of importance here are my feelings on shoes as well as a few pics of the ones I have in my cupboard.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHe_6I-_wzS1JLxjJF6stFCRVRR2TTUQyHPHbAxSQaQP1WHHNyWjFBT0TlhVKcGX0mo21bUVjv-mUIsBuBW4nxWUdNWIxGxzCUdJXIcXIag-MmkHuryqaA4AGr5ZJTmULveYMK9KXQqsJ5/s1600/decd9e2be79d465a5d09bb383ae9686c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHe_6I-_wzS1JLxjJF6stFCRVRR2TTUQyHPHbAxSQaQP1WHHNyWjFBT0TlhVKcGX0mo21bUVjv-mUIsBuBW4nxWUdNWIxGxzCUdJXIcXIag-MmkHuryqaA4AGr5ZJTmULveYMK9KXQqsJ5/s1600/decd9e2be79d465a5d09bb383ae9686c.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
And of course if the shoe fits.....<br />
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And now for mine...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO6pZENIeZSZWBxvJ6UDgr17b9qFc6eUAOuZsYG8nXSNKmoJCYwT-N3yzf9RkpOY7JUZ0wxzHObyVYEEobHnSPP5N7MKuSsyCFn_spfHQFq2ub7bqRcOkJD1hX_jbN5iXr64JvzIT0soXZ/s1600/SAM_1904.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO6pZENIeZSZWBxvJ6UDgr17b9qFc6eUAOuZsYG8nXSNKmoJCYwT-N3yzf9RkpOY7JUZ0wxzHObyVYEEobHnSPP5N7MKuSsyCFn_spfHQFq2ub7bqRcOkJD1hX_jbN5iXr64JvzIT0soXZ/s1600/SAM_1904.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my wellies for rainy school days<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<br /><br />And some of my favourite going out shoes...<br />
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<br />kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-78021853298295486192014-11-06T05:15:00.000-08:002014-11-06T05:31:00.372-08:00My favourite time of yearDay 5 #Blogvember....What is your favourite time of year...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMMlxS2RWrdSDl612XOzsbh0VU77erAR44-s5vr7APM7iJZSArpCD29oeI1iaXjko5kUK9SL6lo9xVf4HgiPPw06eafODURGK4awQ22HXJMoZDlUqBd7prrF2kssIfZej0Y9jQaLHgNCIW/s1600/cape-town-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMMlxS2RWrdSDl612XOzsbh0VU77erAR44-s5vr7APM7iJZSArpCD29oeI1iaXjko5kUK9SL6lo9xVf4HgiPPw06eafODURGK4awQ22HXJMoZDlUqBd7prrF2kssIfZej0Y9jQaLHgNCIW/s1600/cape-town-5.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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December is without a doubt my favourite month for various reasons. The fact that my favourite season is Autumn (simply for the climate, not too warm and not too cold) doesn't taint the fact that December has it all.</div>
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As a teacher I get most of December off for school holidays, this means I get to spend time with my family and other teacher friends. Shopping for Christmas presents is always a good way to spend a day. I simply love shopping and presents. We also get really nice gifts from our students just before school closes which really ends the year on a high note. The weather is usually sunny which means, days at the beach or picnicking in the park. There is just so much more you can do with your family when the weather plays nice.</div>
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Also the best part of this time of year is that I get to see my best friend. She has been living overseas for far too many years now and only comes home for two weeks during December/January. I look forward to seeing her every year and when we get together, it's as if she never left.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">me and Coleen my bff</td></tr>
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kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-62272540149894535302014-11-05T07:40:00.001-08:002014-11-05T07:40:55.494-08:00Top of my bucket list #BlogvemberDay 4 #Blogvember... Top of your bucket list<br />
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The funny thing about my bucket list, is that it keeps getting longer. I know that I'm meant to be ticking off things as I get around to them, but the longer I live the more things I seem to find to add to my list. At this rate I will never complete my bucket list and that's okay I reckon.</div>
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There is just so much life to live and the more I live it, the more I discover things I never even thought of before. I have such an appetite for living these days and I attribute it to my new found happiness, which brings me to the top of my list...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am very happy with my life right now</td></tr>
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Be happy!!! -tick!<br />
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There are some things I would really like to do, places I would love to go and experiences I want to share with my husband. So in no particular order listed below are a few more of my bucket list items:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwAbzfWJYHkQHK9AHPFeobxAB2od-2uo2j-GQaO7iIDRs6VWHJ5znKatAmsfja8953jv0YuKA_SL26fXRT-jpEFPCAsGx5E3cy83K8CsnYLysN8lsknS-up1s2U35Tj7F-x1_qWgtQ0U86/s1600/bucketlist02.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwAbzfWJYHkQHK9AHPFeobxAB2od-2uo2j-GQaO7iIDRs6VWHJ5znKatAmsfja8953jv0YuKA_SL26fXRT-jpEFPCAsGx5E3cy83K8CsnYLysN8lsknS-up1s2U35Tj7F-x1_qWgtQ0U86/s1600/bucketlist02.png" height="204" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Would love to do this</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSrZnYBXAA9moUJv5K1vuMx9JOQJqta4gtCjewSzwJyhUeNguXE1izexpp4ylO2lzufarsl-ligSnBUGbZcHXtOBGAgeIwq4vXhXCK7M9tYYKmLhvFBRWTKX3JkZFn-yG7NXWwDL83YKOy/s1600/bucketlist1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSrZnYBXAA9moUJv5K1vuMx9JOQJqta4gtCjewSzwJyhUeNguXE1izexpp4ylO2lzufarsl-ligSnBUGbZcHXtOBGAgeIwq4vXhXCK7M9tYYKmLhvFBRWTKX3JkZFn-yG7NXWwDL83YKOy/s1600/bucketlist1.jpg" height="204" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We live in Lakeside just 5 min away from Muizenberg...so Tick!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZcbYAj0NglKsisCDXYuCGrZm1e17J6nqysDe4OQxl1D1Wk-v1DgAFskRSGRAyltZWJO1OB0uYBke-qE_vJr6OOhmuHDdM__XeegP6lWkb-TCkC8U5knBdOSsyZZzC5A-cOw_1-FDuC9Kf/s1600/tumblr_lsiutq3qV51r29t5yo1_r1_500.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZcbYAj0NglKsisCDXYuCGrZm1e17J6nqysDe4OQxl1D1Wk-v1DgAFskRSGRAyltZWJO1OB0uYBke-qE_vJr6OOhmuHDdM__XeegP6lWkb-TCkC8U5knBdOSsyZZzC5A-cOw_1-FDuC9Kf/s1600/tumblr_lsiutq3qV51r29t5yo1_r1_500.png" height="204" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love old buildings and art works</td></tr>
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<br />Other items that are on my list are things like;<div>
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<i>Bungee jump</i></div>
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<i>Be completely debt free</i></div>
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<i>Financially stable</i></div>
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<i>Dance at my great great granddaughters wedding....</i></div>
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And a whole lot more......</div>
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kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-299862576457873522014-11-03T09:02:00.001-08:002014-11-03T09:02:42.852-08:00Handwriting....#BlogvemberDay 3 #Blogvember.... Take a photo of handwriting....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgImFuI0gqzghpYKXMJci_qb3Sr4qjt_txAY2oEcUsD0G5ktidEvCyl3TrnU1QjHz2Edyu6iI-y51Yv4BfCQRVxchyspbnVO86qa28gRuAqaC7IBGrAC7adeGLfIQtRJvT9STkchjiYTQDP/s1600/beautiful-fashion-handwriting-illustration-Favim.com-585554.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgImFuI0gqzghpYKXMJci_qb3Sr4qjt_txAY2oEcUsD0G5ktidEvCyl3TrnU1QjHz2Edyu6iI-y51Yv4BfCQRVxchyspbnVO86qa28gRuAqaC7IBGrAC7adeGLfIQtRJvT9STkchjiYTQDP/s1600/beautiful-fashion-handwriting-illustration-Favim.com-585554.jpg" height="260" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHviHK2Gif34SYYw2J9htyXtVzViCKWSdJqP7FoB4Kupqv7DysPimZU0veQI0xGVEoBrHX2g89PAUYG5uRToVlzmrLQz3xdEZRFghbMz0ExXy9sj7cMXNa4S10lyYKf3zikd5LEOQ8hQs0/s1600/SAM_1902.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHviHK2Gif34SYYw2J9htyXtVzViCKWSdJqP7FoB4Kupqv7DysPimZU0veQI0xGVEoBrHX2g89PAUYG5uRToVlzmrLQz3xdEZRFghbMz0ExXy9sj7cMXNa4S10lyYKf3zikd5LEOQ8hQs0/s1600/SAM_1902.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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<i><b>If only I could write like this in real life.... sigh</b></i>kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-4270292850072065642014-11-03T07:00:00.001-08:002014-11-03T07:00:28.906-08:00A woman belongs in the...where? Day 2 of #Blogvember....What is your guilty pleasure....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrXnkxtF_CDrnXPAXgvu3nhPrH_OK2Yfiul3eWiA98Y_2s7pYSTcEX9MzZoY7yI7_gIAxY9QiIpRTAQd2kCRmrdi364JBJ6tsV88rp9ta2KGVwssG9aghR2c3Azk9U_bG5T_jK37TWBfQ/s1600/header.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrXnkxtF_CDrnXPAXgvu3nhPrH_OK2Yfiul3eWiA98Y_2s7pYSTcEX9MzZoY7yI7_gIAxY9QiIpRTAQd2kCRmrdi364JBJ6tsV88rp9ta2KGVwssG9aghR2c3Azk9U_bG5T_jK37TWBfQ/s1600/header.jpg" height="129" width="640" /></a></div>
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And there you have it, I just don't. Not because I can't but because I really don't enjoy it at all.<br />
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My feelings towards cooking go something like this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlEeAVrKnu-r1CcFx6zCSfA09XDbUtGiNYl8_p4k53shHJ8EbCQ4-XD7zMOPhsgjrFhide-SEDGv_KRiTDoXoiVbIFLyHdcWVpOyD5kwbB4zqK6T7f78zYoUFq2tRjea6IoNGcN84JntLY/s1600/6b7043f47bc621875e8febebb9856b50.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlEeAVrKnu-r1CcFx6zCSfA09XDbUtGiNYl8_p4k53shHJ8EbCQ4-XD7zMOPhsgjrFhide-SEDGv_KRiTDoXoiVbIFLyHdcWVpOyD5kwbB4zqK6T7f78zYoUFq2tRjea6IoNGcN84JntLY/s1600/6b7043f47bc621875e8febebb9856b50.jpg" height="320" width="207" /></a></div>
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And this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaUGyc8qP7eAflShY_qmfjGL2JY_84zNbhTVq9RNW5tmUoWy6_awO4Rj8m6rnjOusY6jQoku-BuzMNpttewPVhQb0oEobvVnovLFilvQfy7OcArHtZkDgD4TXQ5CeXYHDu-MpxDvLVmPA-/s1600/6a010536f1bf53970b01347fb2caf5970c-800wi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaUGyc8qP7eAflShY_qmfjGL2JY_84zNbhTVq9RNW5tmUoWy6_awO4Rj8m6rnjOusY6jQoku-BuzMNpttewPVhQb0oEobvVnovLFilvQfy7OcArHtZkDgD4TXQ5CeXYHDu-MpxDvLVmPA-/s1600/6a010536f1bf53970b01347fb2caf5970c-800wi.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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This is what I would be like in the kitchen:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG-pRlwXxGN_rNtGC3r3GPy-sP0vM70651tm6Rw3TlJUdjkg999CIWugENw_mi-UKoplAeLd9MOgj95nbJD0V4R4kpyP-YRZ8zeThkgifTUXtXPuCCp6TS_jYgEvWZFgYu2ZSNH3Zg2Nqb/s1600/stockfresh_2199401_funny-cooking-image_sizeXS-300x200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG-pRlwXxGN_rNtGC3r3GPy-sP0vM70651tm6Rw3TlJUdjkg999CIWugENw_mi-UKoplAeLd9MOgj95nbJD0V4R4kpyP-YRZ8zeThkgifTUXtXPuCCp6TS_jYgEvWZFgYu2ZSNH3Zg2Nqb/s1600/stockfresh_2199401_funny-cooking-image_sizeXS-300x200.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HELP!</td></tr>
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Lucky for me, I have a husband who doesn't mind cooking at all and that is why we work. We compromise and work together. I like to clean and don't mind doing all the household chores as long as I don't ever have to cook. That is my guilty pleasure......that I can sit on the sofa and chat to him while he cooks. Also there is just something so sexy about a man in the kitchen, whipping up a delicious meal for you while you sit on the sofa and sip wine.</div>
kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-45547729470845403632014-11-03T05:38:00.000-08:002014-11-03T05:41:57.249-08:00Boxes full of boxes.......#BlogvemberDay 1 of #Blogvember.... What do you collect...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3DOTYTkzwoDWCA4emUrXvw63s6t_qLelg-rs92Z8MUjT_r30uJHcjgKWAemEVrQVxgsI8B1lLPCb94DkwjLyExPu0gB6XOgpm6vd74Nz1xAAg-KHhpmI6bZDu3jBgCm_W_CCJg5UZ2mpU/s1600/Plastic-storage-boxes-house-of-bath.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3DOTYTkzwoDWCA4emUrXvw63s6t_qLelg-rs92Z8MUjT_r30uJHcjgKWAemEVrQVxgsI8B1lLPCb94DkwjLyExPu0gB6XOgpm6vd74Nz1xAAg-KHhpmI6bZDu3jBgCm_W_CCJg5UZ2mpU/s1600/Plastic-storage-boxes-house-of-bath.jpg" height="187" width="320" /></a></div>
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I have a confession.......I am a hoarder! I love to keep silly little things like....ribbon from a gift, wrapping paper, containers, stationary and various other items that usually end up sitting around the house and collecting dust. Some years ago I decided I was going to be super organised and de-clutter by using storage containers, much like the ones pictured above. I have over the years collected more boxes, baskets and containers for storage than I have things to store in them. In short I have boxes full of boxes.</div>
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My thought on this is: <i>rather have it and not need it, than need it and not have it</i>. The problem of course, is that I have many things that I haven't needed for a long time and although I try (at least twice a year ) to throw out things I haven't used for a while, I still have waaaaaaaaay too much stuff.</div>
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I attribute my hoarding to the fact that I have an addictive personality and that I am a preschool teacher. Preschool teachers can find creative uses for almost anything that the average person would call waste. We can turn almost any old item into a work of art. I also think that the recent trend to upcycle things has added to my need to keep (hoard) things. I am not even going to mention Pinterest!!!! OK I just did but you know what, one day, maybe one day I will get around to filling all those boxes, I may even label them with colour coded stickers (the ones I have been storing in a drawer somewhere for that very reason).</div>
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<br />kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-26690660127867786892014-11-03T05:12:00.000-08:002014-11-03T05:12:06.536-08:00#Blogvember challengeI love a challenge and I very often want to blog but have no idea what to say. I have very many opinions on oodles of stuff but just never sure how to articulate them. So I decided to join the #Blogvember challenge.... it goes like this..........<br />
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So watch this space!</div>
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<br />kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-38424437353136118612014-09-19T07:47:00.001-07:002014-09-19T07:49:57.779-07:00Our crazy, big, complicated, blended family.....<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Since getting married recently I have
gained three stepchildren, two brother in-laws, a sister in-law and a father
in-law. As well as some uncles, aunts and cousins but they are all in the UK
and we will probably never ever meet. My
husband on the other hand has gained a nation. To say that my family is
complicated (I know I know almost everyone’s family is complicated) is an
understatement. They are a cross between
The Brady bunch meets Little house on the prairie with the Osbournes. And that’s
just on my mother’s side! Some of them are quite religious and choose to
worship God in many ways while others are less outspoken about their religious
beliefs and choose to worship at the local pub. The latter seem to be just as devoted to their cause, if not more.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi89RqvS0lERNYsB66_eMaiD6746WNEAAF5e3Mmhi7esttB3pATs8IadRW5MShSlM58vPvi0P3zlbplk1drTnD9YqxHNhVJHRS3aXLS5SF2gw4R-KPapnd7n8WLDPyX6cCXbpddKYfcmNI2/s1600/IMG_0374.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi89RqvS0lERNYsB66_eMaiD6746WNEAAF5e3Mmhi7esttB3pATs8IadRW5MShSlM58vPvi0P3zlbplk1drTnD9YqxHNhVJHRS3aXLS5SF2gw4R-KPapnd7n8WLDPyX6cCXbpddKYfcmNI2/s1600/IMG_0374.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scott and I with our 6 kids, 2 grand kids and my mom and step dad</td></tr>
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Then there is my step dad and his
family, who I knew growing up but we have grown apart since I started a family of my
own. My own children who now have children and partners and their partner’s
family dramas and my biological dad and his family who I have only recently re-connected with.</div>
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This can at times be a little too
much for my stepson Jonah who is the youngest of our collective 6 children. He
is only 8 and is always asking questions. The other day he asked if MY step dad
will be his double step granddad or as he put it, his dub step granddad. Then
there is the question of my siblings. I have never had a full sibling (meaning
the same mom and dad). I have two sisters from the same father and a brother
from the same mother. Jonah wanted to
know what they are to him, I tried explaining that they are his half step uncle
and half step aunts or is it step half uncle…..</div>
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You see my dilemma?</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq7zxrAHkPgKEest83ttsghb9L4-2RSJk0RPPrR7mpa_biZcmA3ec8-8h6JqTIeMOt5dwXzjpy705eD4pZ4O8bUCwf_JHN9WWcfAvpf06_L4YYceyVh7SSqaeh1xjmCf3_myipYwxInwlm/s1600/IMG_0444.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq7zxrAHkPgKEest83ttsghb9L4-2RSJk0RPPrR7mpa_biZcmA3ec8-8h6JqTIeMOt5dwXzjpy705eD4pZ4O8bUCwf_JHN9WWcfAvpf06_L4YYceyVh7SSqaeh1xjmCf3_myipYwxInwlm/s1600/IMG_0444.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first photo ever taken of my sisters and I</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
All in all we are a very
complicated bunch, and as complicated as we are we all love each other to some
degree. My mom’s side of the family are also a very noisy lot and if you want
to be heard when we all get together the trick is to speak as loud as possible.
The person with the loudest voice is often the only one who is heard. My maternal grandmother turned 80 this year
and still has all her faculties intact. This makes her a great great grandmother
to my granddaughters. That’s 5 generations in a row. A lot of my cousins are in
their mid twenties to mid thirties now and have started having babies. One of them to started off this trend and now everyone seems to be joining in.
So the family is just growing and growing. I think by the time Jonah is old
enough to start a family of his own he may just have it all figured out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf_MybQeMlQaIop2Iltu77Gt9NAIo-BGXp4DdScCxwJRAgYIYvT3mWkb2jS1apUNDdUmAJs4oLVrBpc69iPTrKQDCSEpva_xheyQ_DXacUIAGZ4PdbjKelFAJdqRNTVIFoerQBEn3Jl9iu/s1600/IMG_0403.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf_MybQeMlQaIop2Iltu77Gt9NAIo-BGXp4DdScCxwJRAgYIYvT3mWkb2jS1apUNDdUmAJs4oLVrBpc69iPTrKQDCSEpva_xheyQ_DXacUIAGZ4PdbjKelFAJdqRNTVIFoerQBEn3Jl9iu/s1600/IMG_0403.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With my dad and step mom</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-35472648419983323902014-09-15T09:26:00.002-07:002014-09-15T09:26:58.842-07:00A weighty issue<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
When I was younger I was always a
skinny little girl even after I had 3 kids I managed somehow to lose the weight
fairly quickly and my body bounced back.
I was only 21 after the birth of my third child so it made sense that I
could keep my slim youthful figure. My average weight was around 52 kilograms
and I was a size 32. When I turned 30 I noticed that my clothes were getting a
little tighter and that my figure was changing. I put on a few kilograms,
nothing too drastic but my body was expanding. At age 34 I had put on an extra
10 kilograms and gone up a dress size. This was a little worrying as I had only
put on 15 kilograms with my two younger children during my whole pregnancy and
19 with my eldest. By now I was a size 34 with an average weight of
65kilograms.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I read somewhere about weight
gain and how an underactive thyroid could be the cause. Because of course self
diagnosing is often the most reliable. So with my new found information I went
off to my doctor to have my thyroid gland checked out. Guess what, it turns out
there was nothing wrong with my thyroid. The doctor asked me if I had changed
anything in my diet. Suggesting that I may be responsible for my now overweight
state sounded ludicrous to me and so I responded with a rather cocky: “No, not
a thing” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Well that’s just it” said my doc
“You see as we get older our metabolism slows down and we have to start exercising
and watching what we eat. You can’t go around eating like you did as a teenager
anymore” I left his office feeling quite downhearted that there was no medical
explanation I could blame for my weight gain. And so the downward spiral of
battling with my body began. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
By June 2010 at the age of 38 and
going through a divorce, I was a size 36 boarding on 38 and my weight was 74
kilograms.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCRr63bPheeQ6ll0oSEAlC1I6f-NvO7d1ctAVXGtYLtSO0MPTovTA53MuLWL8BiDu4hyphenhyphen9JaUcNhRZiFpGLjIUI5VymJo93LEYbBLjH8GfyqcbuAJXSJYWvbtd5u8ePOZXM53SuWtEvxp5i/s1600/100_1762.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCRr63bPheeQ6ll0oSEAlC1I6f-NvO7d1ctAVXGtYLtSO0MPTovTA53MuLWL8BiDu4hyphenhyphen9JaUcNhRZiFpGLjIUI5VymJo93LEYbBLjH8GfyqcbuAJXSJYWvbtd5u8ePOZXM53SuWtEvxp5i/s1600/100_1762.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">4 years ago</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I have looked back on my life in
the past 15 years and realised that there is a direct correlation between my
being unhappy or depressed and overweight. My weight did not determine my
happiness but my happiness or lack thereof determined my weight. Last year I
bought a wedding dress for my wedding. The dress did not fit, I mean it looked
so beautiful but the zip would not go up all the way. I bought it anyway in the
hope that it may fit by the time I needed it or I would have holes put in the
back and thread ribbon through it and leave the zip down. I was assured by a
dressmaker that this would work.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA6MCt7UT26Y1U_GwDKHkbzswRFMCXrEia_lJuIGTp1SzdD9CBXFobfF6dIHQ3pYV5RUiG8Eiwb1BsThvSDPkvdWfpqdHpLLrMBkIk9NOGemjdiifMeceaby9RuKNjpOKFZicUtiEllqY5/s1600/100_1181.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA6MCt7UT26Y1U_GwDKHkbzswRFMCXrEia_lJuIGTp1SzdD9CBXFobfF6dIHQ3pYV5RUiG8Eiwb1BsThvSDPkvdWfpqdHpLLrMBkIk9NOGemjdiifMeceaby9RuKNjpOKFZicUtiEllqY5/s1600/100_1181.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2012</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I decided that I was going to
only eat when I am hungry, not overeat (not that I ever did) and I would try
and exercise in order to fit into that dress. Needless to say I have not
exercised one bit (still as lazy and unfit as ever) but somehow by some miracle
I managed to lose 17 kilograms and the zip on my dress went up all the way on
my special day. Today I weigh 58 kilograms and can fit into a large size 32 or
a small 34. I am not looking for a ‘well done’ as I didn’t work for it. If I
had spent hours at the gym and was on a strict diet then I would welcome
accolades for all my hard work. NO I simply stopped eating unnecessary. Scott
and I eat mostly home cooked meals with normal but healthy type ingredients. I
have not been on a diet; I still eat chocolate and cake every now and
then. I did also go off the injection
about 2 years ago, but have only lost the weight in the last year so I am not
sure if that had something to do with it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohIZgv2I4xGZK5ShKQoVXtZ72WN2gXs-s66s5e_sZlDU_r6RnN716OowEL8IOuFTVcKxPu3TD6X8c5RE0xIsvr0Gz0eEqKT9R3FHyKfkLZH-9dKVZNQ_Mcnyp9Yv9fQlrEu7_veHOB_2D/s1600/10696217_10152740035064052_8855481287422294102_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohIZgv2I4xGZK5ShKQoVXtZ72WN2gXs-s66s5e_sZlDU_r6RnN716OowEL8IOuFTVcKxPu3TD6X8c5RE0xIsvr0Gz0eEqKT9R3FHyKfkLZH-9dKVZNQ_Mcnyp9Yv9fQlrEu7_veHOB_2D/s1600/10696217_10152740035064052_8855481287422294102_n.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2014</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Today I am happy, not because of
my weight. I am just happy, with life, love and everything else. I am almost
certain that this is the reason my body is now back to the way it was meant to
be.</div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-ZA; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">When I look back at the photos of me in the last
5 years I cringe at the thought of how huge I was. I told Scott the other day
that it was a pity he met me when I was at my biggest. He simply said “I didn’t
see you as a shape; I simply fell in love with you!” Awe how could I not be
happy</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-ZA; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-ZA; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyKywrNvYCHbezvhQdGueCgr3gpJO1qIikV5z_eOMNrvf9UwFL5skaZWlxcdC5l7mkGRuWYwNbw_MScUg2W9AmukNUOH7IP0D9454IqXNMyeNBsssGkKGYiyl1dTeSD3pHs1X_jA-1APxD/s1600/IMG_0079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyKywrNvYCHbezvhQdGueCgr3gpJO1qIikV5z_eOMNrvf9UwFL5skaZWlxcdC5l7mkGRuWYwNbw_MScUg2W9AmukNUOH7IP0D9454IqXNMyeNBsssGkKGYiyl1dTeSD3pHs1X_jA-1APxD/s1600/IMG_0079.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2014</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-ZA; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-49679589430410422702014-09-11T08:59:00.001-07:002014-09-11T08:59:18.838-07:00Marriage, divorce and feelings<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5BxAcnFyuTWGlqdRAu8-vRV7OV6wdofXd-VNo60XpgrkyOgu5A6sB3DaW5P4VkrxnFb0VYMZDTYu8gAnvKn0jzxOeA1mPtQNBO7sD6ro_Kf0nt9XfV6dKFhjYCcdgExNO76bWVRogGgKg/s1600/541800_282379245176208_179680302112770_654500_1798676815_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5BxAcnFyuTWGlqdRAu8-vRV7OV6wdofXd-VNo60XpgrkyOgu5A6sB3DaW5P4VkrxnFb0VYMZDTYu8gAnvKn0jzxOeA1mPtQNBO7sD6ro_Kf0nt9XfV6dKFhjYCcdgExNO76bWVRogGgKg/s1600/541800_282379245176208_179680302112770_654500_1798676815_n.jpg" height="243" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This has been doing the rounds on social media for a while and every time I saw it I felt a little judged by others because I was divorced. This was one of those conspiracy type feelings, I know no one is really judging me (I think) but it stems from my christian upbringing. You know the one that says Christians don't get divorced.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I mean I tried, my marriage was not a fly by night thing it lasted for 22 years after all. Yes 22 years people that's like 154 dog years!!! okay unfair comparison, apples and oranges. The problem is, it ended. The first year after my divorce I felt like a failure, like people were secretly whispering about me..."There goes the divorcee, she didn't even try, she just gave up" Well I am here to tell you, that's not the case, I tried but you know what...some things are just not meant to be. It could not be fixed because it wasn't right. From the start it was never right.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I truly believe that I should not have gotten married in the first place. I was 16 for goodness sake, what the heck did I know about life. I <b>fell</b> (love that word...as if I slipped) pregnant and so we got married. He never even asked me, it was the thing you did when you got pregnant, and so we did.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now I am not saying it was all bad or that it was a huge mistake, after all my first marriage brought me 3 children and for that reason alone I would do it all over again, but I know that in my heart it never felt right. Why am I bringing up the past now? Well I got married again on August 30th!!!!! and I can honestly tell you without a shadow of doubt, this time it is right. It feels right and it feels wonderful.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I <b>fell</b> (there is that word again) head over heels in love (not lust) with the right man that is just the right fit for me. He asked me, wow you have no idea how amazing that feels. He wanted to marry me so much that he actually asked me!!! not because I was pregnant, not because it was the thing we had to do but because he wanted to. He is the most amazing husband in the world and I feel like the luckiest woman ever. </div>
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kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-52697201416150091302014-08-20T10:11:00.001-07:002014-08-20T10:57:29.812-07:00Going to the chapel and...oh wait!<div style="text-align: justify;">
You know that old song: Going to the chapel and we're gonna get married? Well we are....sort of.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwB7QI3JTT8CXEWRd_J1vTaTMFucsUdKOfficqvfluFapRD72x7QyQpknnIJbEKm731cwGs4ZIR153Il-PQ9XzXLAZXD6I9cOede-G9sAuK-Cj8t5GqkNdaOCMGYXq2q-3EJFPgyuu4meU/s1600/Getaway-Car-Engagement-wedding-getaway-car-wedding-ideas-wedding-party-blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwB7QI3JTT8CXEWRd_J1vTaTMFucsUdKOfficqvfluFapRD72x7QyQpknnIJbEKm731cwGs4ZIR153Il-PQ9XzXLAZXD6I9cOede-G9sAuK-Cj8t5GqkNdaOCMGYXq2q-3EJFPgyuu4meU/s1600/Getaway-Car-Engagement-wedding-getaway-car-wedding-ideas-wedding-party-blog.jpg" height="208" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A year and two months ago I had just sold 5 houses in a row, life was good, money was flowing and my boyfriend had just proposed! And so the wedding planning started. I found a dress I really loved and so I bought it!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We knew that we didn't want a huge wedding as we would much rather spend money on our actual day to day lives than on one occasion, but however small it was going to be, it would still cost a bit of money. We started looking at venues as this seemed to be the biggest expense and chose a lovely little chapel we both felt would be perfect. We chose Rhodes memorial chapel which had recently been renovated after a fire destroyed it some years ago. We would have even had it there had they not rebuilt it, we quite liked the rustic half broken building effect, but since it had been redone, we took it as a sign.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A few months went by and we both realised we needed to move as the one bedroom house we were living in was just too small, especially when our collective 6 kids were visiting. So we embarked on a house hunting expedition. With the help of friends we moved in March this year to a bigger home that is just perfect except that it comes with a much bigger price tag. We hit a financial snag and the burden of bigger rent along with day to day bills became too much and we decided that a *wedding* was just an expense we could not afford. We could either wait another year or just go to court and get married. We chose not to wait and so we went down to the home affairs office and booked our date. A little sad that we wouldn't get to have an actual wedding celebration with friends and family but determined none the less to go ahead and make that commitment to each other. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I mentioned to my awesome boss at school that we are just going to court as I would need the day off work and she said asked me if I was going to wear my beautiful dress to court. I don't know about you but the thought of wearing a stunning white wedding gown to Wynberg home affairs just doesn't appeal to me. I told her I would probably just sell it. She came to me a few days later and told me that I HAVE to have a wedding and that she will plan it for me. Everything! we could use our school (where I teach) as a venue and she would love to do all the event planning! I was gobsmacked. Fast forward two months and we are having a wedding!!!!!!! I think it's actually quite quirky, a teacher getting married at school. The planning, and the countdown and all the excitement has begun. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And on the 30th of August we will have our wedding!!!! a budget one, but one with family and friends and lots of love. Due to the constraints of the amount of people we can actually squeeze into two classrooms we have had to be brutal about the guest list but I am excited dammit.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjisNXz-M2tr38NCbHm6ybPw1Iy2G4p7PlcFpTolwCU7HsHKun1OuMvEVlMSI3QPl1ShG_yAlYLpZlTImyIpN2Okez6WMLyni4uRHedG9tkhvVpZuq5pZN16uP9AES0vRPhM0e5-rnisj44/s1600/bird-wedding-cake-toppers1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjisNXz-M2tr38NCbHm6ybPw1Iy2G4p7PlcFpTolwCU7HsHKun1OuMvEVlMSI3QPl1ShG_yAlYLpZlTImyIpN2Okez6WMLyni4uRHedG9tkhvVpZuq5pZN16uP9AES0vRPhM0e5-rnisj44/s1600/bird-wedding-cake-toppers1.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-31593694395910110412014-07-29T09:25:00.003-07:002014-07-29T09:26:00.853-07:00FriendsWriters Bootcamp challenge, day 26 topic: Friends...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtN-_FblZElUJo2bkq2arSiRlXOK7BUEIXrvHOnVNym0wyGVp4io99nwsTsUthk9rtoNtXf8de7yrwqYTKSZVHrdQFFdWDAI4Pz9kn0Kpgm-7KG32aI6j_kREDi6If70n3gYoytVYyqglo/s1600/friendship_quote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtN-_FblZElUJo2bkq2arSiRlXOK7BUEIXrvHOnVNym0wyGVp4io99nwsTsUthk9rtoNtXf8de7yrwqYTKSZVHrdQFFdWDAI4Pz9kn0Kpgm-7KG32aI6j_kREDi6If70n3gYoytVYyqglo/s1600/friendship_quote.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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I read a tweet once that goes like this: Of course I have friends, I have the whole box set.</div>
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This pretty much sums up my life with friends. I have not had much luck with cultivating friendships. Pretty much every weekend is spent with my partner. He is my best friend. That is not to say we don't have any at all. We have friends that we see on birthdays and at special events, but none that we hang out with on a regular basis.</div>
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my only true best friend lives in another country and I only really get to see her once a year but when we get together it's as if she never left.</div>
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I have found over the years that friendship is hard work. We had tons of friends at one stage and the invitations were flowing but we have commitments and a family and well after saying sorry we can't make it because we have the children or sorry we can't meet you at said restaurant this evening as we just don't have the funds, the invitations started to dry up.</div>
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It's okay though as our family commitments keep us quite busy and we are very happy just being in each other's company. Having friends in your life is important but so is family and sometimes as a grown up you have to make tough decisions about the priorities in your life.</div>
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<br />kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-48375949069226757262014-07-28T06:50:00.001-07:002014-07-28T06:50:40.116-07:00Wrong time, wrong place.WritersBootcamp challenge, day 25 topic: Write about whatever you want....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb7pgBGPRkYzP_6is4YjIvQeOMFvvjv6n1kJH_Rax1UcxaOWaFDGz4JdjBAXYmYyGtSseBNbI9XKPl_JUyrpn68Py_TY1n5grJ8puWyr-meaHLI6oj1A957nxq0LoTND67UBxyJihXWtD5/s1600/Breakin_6814452_v2-800x533.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb7pgBGPRkYzP_6is4YjIvQeOMFvvjv6n1kJH_Rax1UcxaOWaFDGz4JdjBAXYmYyGtSseBNbI9XKPl_JUyrpn68Py_TY1n5grJ8puWyr-meaHLI6oj1A957nxq0LoTND67UBxyJihXWtD5/s1600/Breakin_6814452_v2-800x533.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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It started out as a perfectly normal day. Monday morning rituals in the Roberts household was hardly anything to write home about. Chris was in the bathroom while Sarah banged on the door yelling at him to hurry up, as she needed to shower and didn't want to be late for school. Mom was in the kitchen packing lunch boxes and dad was eating breakfast while watching the financial indicators on the morning news.</div>
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I was sick and mom said I could stay home to recover. The doctor had said I should get plenty of rest and drink lots of liquids. "It's just the flu you know" Chris had told me earlier, "You could suck it up and go to school." I ignored his retorts and reminded him that he was neither my mom nor my dad and certainly not the boss of me. I know it was a juvenile remark but he deserved it! He just brings out the worst in me sometimes. Besides he is only 16 years old which is only 2 years older than me.</div>
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After everyone had left, the house was peaceful once again and I drifted back to sleep.</div>
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I eventually got up around 12:30 as my stomach dictated that I have something to eat. As I stepped out of bed, I slipped on some marbles, fell backwards and landed on the hard tiled floor with a loud thump. My back began to ache and I realised that I could not move. What do I do now? should I try moving slowly? Should I call for help? That's ridiculous no one will hear me, everyone is out at work or at school. I could hear the sound of the neighbours domestic worker cleaning next door. Maybe if I shouted loud enough she might come and check up on me. No that's not gonna work, I would still need to get to the front door to let her in.</div>
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I lay there for what seemed like an eternity before I mustered up enough energy to get back into bed. Now I had a sore back, I was hungry and I had flu. I was feeling very sorry for myself indeed.I reached for my cell phone and called mom. She didn't answer. All this movement had made me feel a little weak. I closed my eyes and fell fast asleep. </div>
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I woke up to find three men wearing ski masks hovering over me. I was about to scream when one of the intruders put his hand on my mouth and said "Hush little man, don't strain yourself. We not here for you". I found myself frozen with fear, I didn't move or make a sound. The second, much taller man looked over to his friend and said "He must be the cripple Peg told us about. leave him be, he can't identify us anyway". They left my room and started grabbing things from around the house and stuffing them into bags. I heard one of them say " He's not a cripple, he's a deaf mute so we won't have to worry about him". They moved around the house going from room to room looking for anything that was on their list of items to steal. I could hear them getting frustrated as the items in our house didn't match the ones on their list. And within half and hour they had managed to relieve us of anything that was of value. And then they were gone.</div>
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When mom came home that evening I was a mess. I told her everything that happened in great detail. I was still shaking and quite weak by now. Mom gently stroked my forehead and told me everything was going to be okay. Then I heard her phone the police station.</div>
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Two days later we out that our neighbour across the road has a 17 year old daughter named Peg and a wheelchair bound son who is severely handicapped. Peg had been missing for 3 months.</div>
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<br />kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-57426519623232601402014-07-27T03:40:00.001-07:002014-07-27T03:49:20.837-07:00What's in a handbag...WritersBootcamp challenge Day 24 topic: What's on my desk/in my handbag/my pocket/my car....<br />
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A couple of weeks ago myself and two work colleagues went to The Toad on the road for lunch. During our time there we had a few glasses of wine. At some point my one colleague Tracey reached into her handbag to get something and pulled out a pair of tiny socks, to which she pronounced "You know you're a mom when you have toddler socks in your handbag". We all chuckled for a moment and then my other colleague Heather proceeded to empty the contents of her handbag onto the table while saying "Check what's in mine".</div>
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My reaction to all this (while giggling and sipping wine) was to feed my social media addiction by whipping out my smartphone and taking a photo of said contents. This was either to Tweet, Instagram (latergram) or blog about at a later stage, I was undecided at the time). So today's post was meant to be, as I blog the contents of my friend and colleagues handbag.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQGzDRfpHK4M5lp7kiM26nEZOtgFmY_oU8YrJzr4C5_0Mj8x3YQLCFI1QuVSP9h4dU44tx2OmvwRA8QV23EhFm1s0fleE-dV8nK0DnV7GdKF0pBLqRulBPDCUH6tF5Smx2opxccDFhJ-xs/s1600/20140702_154613.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQGzDRfpHK4M5lp7kiM26nEZOtgFmY_oU8YrJzr4C5_0Mj8x3YQLCFI1QuVSP9h4dU44tx2OmvwRA8QV23EhFm1s0fleE-dV8nK0DnV7GdKF0pBLqRulBPDCUH6tF5Smx2opxccDFhJ-xs/s1600/20140702_154613.jpg" height="192" width="320" /></a></div>
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1 Wallet with the usual wallet type contents.</div>
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1 Identity book in a lovely sunflower cover.</div>
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1 Plastic medicine spoon. (she is also a mom).</div>
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1 Car key with remote.</div>
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1 Pink plastic container, minus the lid which was mysteriously missing.</div>
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1 Tube of hand cream.</div>
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1 Packet of tissues.</div>
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1 Breath freshener spray bottle.</div>
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1 Cellphone.</div>
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1 Lighter.</div>
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2 Packets of cigarettes.</div>
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Various till slips.</div>
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1 packet/box of Tic Tacs.</div>
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An old R 2 and R5 note (haven't seen those in years).</div>
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A pink highlighter (she is a teacher after all).</div>
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And a thing that I don't quite recall the name of, but it's apparently a device to measure running distance. This was particularly strange and Heather is neither a runner nor a jogger type of person and the device had no batteries in it.</div>
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My own handbag is quite standard: Wallet (usually on the empty side)..</div>
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Lip gloss.</div>
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Deodorant.</div>
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Sunglasses.</div>
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Tissues.</div>
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3 pens.</div>
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4 USB sticks.</div>
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Hand cream</div>
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Hairbands x 3</div>
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Cigarettes.</div>
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Miscellaneous papers, among them old till slips.</div>
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So, what's in yours?</div>
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kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-81455570330926020732014-07-26T11:19:00.001-07:002014-07-26T11:24:14.419-07:00Music<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJVqHggZH-0BSatwzvx6F3Eb0HULW4lmdH0yjdSRO7zIdtaHhxLjoqm1SAbJ20ulOOIqjXm6wTeJuitmiL0REyhH64vriw2kdS50fU0pbEArQ-DV7q6VvEAJO1UEVO6sFUnSLKyQLITjIz/s1600/CUS231MusicVoiceOfSoul.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJVqHggZH-0BSatwzvx6F3Eb0HULW4lmdH0yjdSRO7zIdtaHhxLjoqm1SAbJ20ulOOIqjXm6wTeJuitmiL0REyhH64vriw2kdS50fU0pbEArQ-DV7q6VvEAJO1UEVO6sFUnSLKyQLITjIz/s1600/CUS231MusicVoiceOfSoul.jpg" height="117" width="320" /></a></div>
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WritersBootcamp day 23 topic: Music...<br />
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Music the universal language....<br />
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It can feed your soul, create a mood and set a scene.<br />
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It can help you relive a memory, good or bad.<br />
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It can uplift and encourage you to dance like a fool in your own living room.<br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;">It can make you weep like a little baby when the chords have touched your heart. </span><br />
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You can be moved by gentle lyrics that speak of unrequited love.</div>
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Music is everywhere and in everything.</div>
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Very often while listening to a piece of music that is soft and gentle I would imagine the scene from a movie that it would accompany. A lover saying goodbye as he goes off to war or a mother holding onto the corpse of her only child. These are the emotions that music can stir up inside us.</div>
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Music evokes emotion in us and can intensify a feeling.</div>
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I have a very eclectic taste in music, my mood often dictates what I will be listening to at any given time.</div>
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My emotional set list:</div>
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My happy song: <a href="http://youtu.be/hMc8naeeSS8" target="_blank">Dancing in the moonlight by Freeloader</a> when I hear this song, I can't help but get up and dance.</div>
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My most emotional love song: <a href="http://youtu.be/JzisVBFMMdE" target="_blank">The Rose by Bette Midler</a> This song has the most beautiful lyrics and whenever I hear it, it make me feel quite tender.</div>
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Some say love, it is a river<br />
That drowns the tender reed.<br />
Some say love, it is a razor<br />
That leaves your soul to bleed.<br />
Some say love, it is a hunger,<br />
An endless aching need.<br />
I say love, it is a flower,<br />
And you its only seed.<br />
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It's the heart afraid of breaking<br />
That never learns to dance.<br />
It's the dream afraid of waking<br />
That never takes the chance.<br />
It's the one who won't be taken,<br />
Who cannot seem to give,<br />
And the soul afraid of dyin'<br />
That never learns to live.<br />
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When the night has been too lonely<br />
And the road has been too long,<br />
And you think that love is only<br />
For the lucky and the strong,<br />
Just remember in the winter<br />
Far beneath the bitter snows<br />
Lies the seed that with the sun's love<br />
In the spring becomes the rose.</div>
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My thinking music and probably the most beautiful piece of music ever written <a href="http://youtu.be/E2j-frfK-yg" target="_blank">Air on a G string- Bach</a></div>
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My 'I'm feeling gangster' song: <a href="http://youtu.be/14PgWitIbSk" target="_blank">Akon- Locked up</a></div>
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And finally a very well written song with a sad story: <a href="http://youtu.be/gOMhN-hfMtY" target="_blank">Stan- Eminem</a></div>
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<br />kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5411285764082388775.post-83343613561518458802014-07-23T05:15:00.002-07:002014-07-23T05:16:22.576-07:00Someone who’s made a big impact on me recentlyWritersBootcamp challenge day 20 topic: Someone who's made a big impact on me recently...<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm6ZJVKn52mjlLDFX1XamOSrEOU6quLHe3wFd9JQTsvwdYO9jO_bSiGMp00Opw8AgLdrngMl78v8hymnxkDdvpxWKuMrDLW2O8aunRAtlz9TLi7TUjMVLKhIhQCnFh-dL8pdHWndwfzqAf/s1600/100_3667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm6ZJVKn52mjlLDFX1XamOSrEOU6quLHe3wFd9JQTsvwdYO9jO_bSiGMp00Opw8AgLdrngMl78v8hymnxkDdvpxWKuMrDLW2O8aunRAtlz9TLi7TUjMVLKhIhQCnFh-dL8pdHWndwfzqAf/s1600/100_3667.JPG" height="149" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my gran, my mom, me and my daughters with their daughters. 5 generations in all.</td></tr>
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I had to think long and hard about this one, I can't really say that anyone has made a huge impact on my life recently, but there is one person who has made the biggest impact on my life from day one and continues to do so...my gran.</div>
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My Ma as I like to call her has been the moral compass in my life. She was my first parental figure and her influence has and continues to steer the course of my daily life.</div>
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She is a woman of high morals and virtues, she has a loving soul and is the epitome of compassion.</div>
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The way she reaches out to others in need has been something I have always admired and hope to simulate in a small way.</div>
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When making decisions regarding community and dealing with others I always stop and reflect on the way she does it and this has definitely influenced the way I do things.</div>
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She celebrated her 80th birthday in May this year, we had big party for her with all her family and friends.</div>
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As I looked around the room, her 5 children, her grandchildren, her great grandchildren and even her great great grandchildren, I realised that none of them would be here if it were not for her.</div>
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Her life has touched so many lives through the years and I only hope one day to have half the legacy she will leave behind some day.</div>
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<br />kambabes bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05203343789622400710noreply@blogger.com0