Itchy feet: the suspense of saving, dreaming and planning

Posted on by nyamazela

“Akaky Akakievich was taken away and buried. And St. Petersburg was left without Akaky Akakyevitch as if he had never been there. Vanished and gone was the being, protected by no one, dear to no one, interesting to no one, who had not even attracted the attention of a naturalist – who does not fail to stick a pin through a common fly and examine it under the microscope.” 

The Overcoat by Nikolai Vasilievich Gogol in The Collected Tales

Planning a holidayPoor Akaky Akakievich, I thought, while reading this story. A copy clerk with nothing in life, but the excitement of skimping and saving every possible rouble he could spare in joyous anticipation of having a new overcoat made with chintz lining, small silk double seams and a cat fur collar.

Oh, the happy months spent, in an otherwise dull life,  dreaming of such an overcoat!

I am sitting in my usual coffee shop drinking tea. Continue reading Itchy feet: the suspense of saving, dreaming and planning

Barges and badgers: living your passion and shining your light

Posted on by nyamazela

“There was a teapot, in which Mma Ramotswe — the only lady private detective in Botwana — brewed tea. And three mugs — one for herself, one for her secretary, and one for the client. What else does a detective agency really need?”

The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency by  Alexander McCall Smith 

hobbies interests and passionsAs an Englishman, Alexander McCall Smith obviously understands a nation’s passion for tea (Rooibos tea in the case of Southern Africa). I’m more of an English tea drinker myself (rusk or dipping bikkie, essential). A cuppa, strong builders, Tips, Yorkshire, char, Twinings  – whatever you like to call it, a steaming cup of liquid has a soothing, contemplative quality, which little else so simple and so available can quite replicate. Continue reading Barges and badgers: living your passion and shining your light

Stockholm: a weekend wandering around Water World

Posted on by nyamazela

“But that’s the glory of foreign travel, as far as I am concerned. I don’t want to know what people are talking about. I can’t think of anything that excites a greater sense of childlike wonder than to be in a country where you are ignorant of almost everything. Suddenly you are five years old again. You can’t read anything, you have only the most rudimentary sense of how things work, you can’t even reliably cross a street without endangering your life. Your whole existence becomes a series of interesting guesses.”

Neither Here nor There: Travels in Europe by Bill Bryson

Stockholm waterwaysBill Bryson, I find, is a bit like Marmite. People tend to fall into one of two categories – they either love his writing or hate it. My guess is that those who hate ‘him’ have found themselves, their accent, culture, country or town the object of his comic musings. I have a few personal favourites: A Short History of Nearly Everything, Shakespeare and Made in America. But there are priceless quotes and observations in all of them – in my opinion – but then, I love Marmite too. Continue reading Stockholm: a weekend wandering around Water World

New Seasons and managing change

Posted on by nyamazela

(Referring to the perfect little ‘handbag’ dogs in Boca Raton, Florida) “They were petite, sophisticated and of discriminating taste. Marley was big, clunky and a sniffer of genitalia.”

“Marley had earned his place in our family. Like a quirky but beloved uncle, he was what he was. He would never be Lassie or Benji or Old Yeller. We accepted him for the dog he was, and loved him all the more for it. “You old geezer,” I said to him on the side of the road that late-winter day, scrubbing his neck. Our goal, the cemetery, was still a steep climb ahead. But just as in life, I was figuring out, the destination was less important than the journey.”

Marley and Me by John Grogan

Autumn leaves changingThis book, Marley and Me (and the film,) snuck up on me from behind, and got to me when my guard was down. The film is light hearted, ‘feel good’ and predictable, but when I watched some years ago and again recently, I fell for every line – both my heart and my tear ducts annoyingly reacted exactly on cue.

So why did I read the book this last week as well? Continue reading New Seasons and managing change

Hopes, dreams, prayers and the people you meet on the way

Posted on by nyamazela

“How many of us begin a new record with each day of our lives? To me it seems only yesterday that my whole life ended with my new hope, and that truly I began a new record. So it shall be until the Great Recorder sums me up and closes my ledger account with a balance to profit and loss.”

Dracula by Bram Stoker

Hopes and dreamsI have had many hopes and dreams in my short life, some of which have weighed heavily on me and have haunted me – hopes I’ve shelved, hopes I’ve not dared to voice, hopes I’ve boldly proclaimed – hopes upon hopes.

Hopes are flighty things, like butterflies, they are beautiful and colourful and hard to pin down. Sometimes they flit into our lives in surprising ways and then flit right out again. Sometimes we keep getting a glance at them, that ‘butterfly’ feeling rises up inside, and then it passes out of reach so that we wonder if it was even there at all.

Continue reading Hopes, dreams, prayers and the people you meet on the way

Kisses: a cautionary tale

Posted on by nyamazela

“It had taken me some months to get used to the Provencal delight in physical contact. Like anyone brought up in England, I had absorbed certain social mannerisms. I had learned to keep my distance, to offer a nod instead of a handshake, to ration kissing to female relatives and to confine any public demonstrations of affection to dogs. To be engulfed by a Provençal welcome, as thorough and searching as being frisked by airport security guards, was, at first, a startling experience.”

A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle

kissing protocolYesterday I had a bit of a kissing dilemma. In fact, it may have actually been a faux pas. I had lunch with my mum-in-law and a perfect stranger. The stranger knew about me and I about her, but we had never actually met. The stranger also came with a host of cautionary bumph. Nervousness ensued, but it was a meeting well overdue, necessary and unavoidable. Continue reading Kisses: a cautionary tale

Working freelance from home

Posted on by nyamazela

“A little note about grammar. I know it and I love it, but I haven’t always followed it in this book. I start sentences with ands and buts. I end sentences with prepositions. I use the plural they in contexts that require the singular he or she. I’ve done this for informality and immediacy, and I hope the sticklers will forgive me.”

Mindset: How you can fulfil your potential by Dr Carol S Dweck

Freelance work from homeStill wondering at and unpacking the massive, life-changing concept of Dweck’s Mindset, I’ve decided to tackle one of my serious weaknesses – procrastination and busyness.

The ‘growth mindset’ approach says that:
1. I don’t have to stay the way I am (which in fact echoes beautifully with my theology as well).
2. I can improve, through hard work and practise, in an area that I value.
3. I have no idea what my potential (ceiling) really is. Continue reading Working freelance from home

Memory

Posted on by nyamazela

“We have all some experience of a feeling, that comes over us occasionally, of what we are saying and doing having been said and done before, in a remote time – of our having been surrounded, dim ages ago, by the same faces, objects, and circumstances – of our knowing perfectly what will be said next, as if we suddenly remember it!”

David Copperfield by Charles Dickens

Aiming to improve our memoriesThe mind is a strange and curious thing.

On Friday last, I stepped out of the office on an errand.  Low-lying mist hung over the Thames. London was still. This is a rare and beautiful thing. Putney Bridge was deserted – no hooting or sirens or loud pedestrians. The frenzy and heat of July having past, a large portion of the population on leave, August is an eerie month in the city. London seemed to breathe out a long peaceful breath of relief.

Being bookish, and tending towards melancholy, this mysterious, still, slightly dark, ominous, promise-of-rain weather feeds my imagination. Continue reading Memory

Foodie

Posted on by nyamazela

“We might treat a rabbit as a pet or become emotionally attached to a goose, but we had come from cities and supermarkets, where flesh was hygienically distanced from any resemblance to living creatures. A shrink-wrapped pork chop has a sanitised, abstract appearance that has nothing whatsoever to do with the warm, mucky bulk of a pig. Out here in the country there is no avoiding the direct link between death and dinner…” 

A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle

I am a ‘wannabe’ foodie, but unsurprisingly making little effort to get the esteemed status. There, I’ve said it. Living in a city where you can go out for three meals a day for the rest of your life and never exhaust the options, some will consider my opening admission simply disgraceful. I’m sorry 😦

Continue reading Foodie

Rain, puddles, splashes and rest

Posted on by nyamazela

“The sun did not shine. It was too wet to play. So we sat in the house. All that cold, cold, wet day.”

Dr Seuss, The Cat in the Hat

Brewing beer at homeThis house has been a hive of activity since returning from Wales.

Apart from running around three small girls and sightseeing till we’ve almost dropped, the Secret Seven have been most productive at home. My hubby and brother have trimmed the hedge; got rid of a fox mess; bought seafood at Billingsgate Market; gutted and cooked prawns, scallops and squid and made a delicious paella. They have bought a brew kit and begun brewing; put up a wooden parasol on the terrace and accomplished various other household tasks.

Continue reading Rain, puddles, splashes and rest