Strange feelings

I'm starting to feel sick in my stomach.

Boarding-school training. Shove the emotions to the back of my mind.

I'm supposed to return home in 10 days time. To pack up the house.
And what.
And sell it?
Rent it?
What? The copper price has crashed. Noone has any money.
And what do we do with the servants and the dog? Seriously.
Just cast them aside?!?!

Last time we were home, we already had to tell dad's oldest employee that we didnt need him any longer. 47 years. I felt like a cad. Phiri stood there, jaw clenching, writhing the sinews in his temples. An old man, steeling the tears. His whole life was working for dad.
And now dad was gone..
I went to the bottom verandah afterwards and cried my eyes out. My soul wrenched from my chest as if I didnt deserve to own one.

Oh god. I feel sick.

This has been our home for over 50 years. Built by dad just 2 years after he started his own civil engineering company.
I'm African..
and yet I'm not. But I dont know why I'm not. And I dont know why I dont feel European. My mother is English, Scottish & Irish - my dad Scottish & Dutch Jewish blood, his mother born in South Africa and him too. What does that make me?

This is the only house I've known. I know every inch of it. I've hidden deep in the garden playing hide and seek, hidden so well that noone found me, until I got bored and came to find them.

Sat on the edge of the pool, no armbands, no minder, no-one about... and defying death, taught myself how to swim. I've surfaced beside a snake and experienced walking on water.
I've pushed my pet chicken around in my dolls pram.
Been through curfews, solar eclipses, one party states and new found democracy.
Been taught how to iron by the houseboy.
Watched him polish the floor, dancing with the brush under one foot and the cloth under the other.
Collected caterpillars for the garden boy
Heard sweet African songs long faded in my memory
Crawled deep inside the bougainvillea hedge,
careered high over the trees on my blue swing, made just for me.
Lips and feet black from mulberries.
Fed dreaded pawpaw to the dogs.
Listened to straw coloured fruit bats squabbling in the fig tree.
Come home to blood all over the house when dad was beaten to an inch of his life by bandits.
And woken by the sound of gunshots or sirens, or scary sounds in the dark night;
or slept solidly as my arm rested against the burglar wire, alarm blaring away.

Heard drums playing deep into the night
laughed at my dog catching flying ants in the kitchen
and laughed again each time I returned from boarding school to find the house had shrunk.
Had power cuts, and phone cuts, and water cuts,
Heard Comrade Mr President on the news
And sat in silence whilst dad listened to the BBC.

I've lived and breathed this house. It was the only place in the world where I felt I belonged.
Before the town she was in became this horrid, polluted, dishevelled place. A place noone wanted to be in. Full of uncouth miners paid disgusting salaries which they squirreled away. We sold the company houses and the office and the horses and the plane and the farm...

and now...?

Am I the only one who's heart is screaming?
The others seem nonchalant.
It makes me sick.

Just bring dad back. Thats the solution. Change time. Change it all.

The hidden side

Oh yes. Its been a long time. Its been a black time. Filled with demons.

Today, I acknowledged to myself that I am in deep grieving for my dad and its ok. Its ok to have pain deep inside my soul. Poor sad soul.

Now I feel better.

I had the most profound meditation during my yoga on Thursday. I was reaching up to heaven. Giving myself to my dad. He was reaching down. Light. The veil parted between reality and the place beyond. And then the moment was shattered by someone beside me snoring and the yoga teacher putting on some music. But the words were amazing - the song was all about little Angels surrounding me. I lay there, silent tears rolling down my cheeks. Man I miss him.

I've been revolting lately. Revolting to everyone. Revolting to my mother, revolting to myself. Looking out on the grey February days. Not winter. Not summer. Just blankness. Like my soul. The trees bare with tiny buds appearing..
But its not that great anticipation ... waiting for the rains.. waiting for the stark grey forests of Mopane to burst to life like magic one special morning, twinkling like tiny jewels. The colour of gold. Just fleetingly gone in a day when the leaves begin to turn green.
Or the harsh suffocating hiss of the cicadas invading your brain, consuming your thoughts. Intense. Unnatural.
Or the first short 2 noted call of the Paradise Flycatcher. You hear him before you see him. But you know he's outside there somewehre in the trees flicking his gorgeous flowing chestnut tail. Mango Madness time.
The rains. The rains.. They're coming!
That intense heat. Numbing. Everybody. Everything. Waits.

The change in the seasons here is so gentle by comparison, so unsurprising. So bloody boring. Where are your balls man!!!!

Its got to change. Me, not the seasons. My aura is affecting my interaction with people at work. Hah - at work - i work from home - but you know what i mean. Emails and phonecalls and meetings and stuff. Crankiness, insecurity doesnt equal success girl! I need to work at 120% not 80%.

But I've been trying hard. My dear poor soul needs tenderness. And since I'm not getting it from a lover it has to be self made.
Friday was blissful lesson number 4.
Made myself known by asking the owner of the Dance School if she worked there! Good one girl! I had got the hell in with my dance shoes and my long hunt to find a pair that fit. I'd even ordered two pairs on the web. Been to the opposing dance school and squeezed my toes into all sorts of shoes rather like the Ugly Sister. Walked out of the shop as the girl was disinterested and unhelpful. So finally - Friday came around, again, and again i had no dance shoes and now I was desperate.
Asking Sue (aka the woman who works there) to help me, I tried on the first pair and it fitted like a glove! Hooraaay! Finnnnnallleeeeee!

Note to self. Take photo of dance shoe. I will, I promise I will - I'm just feeling slack right now.... ok.. done :)

They have suede soles to stop you from slipping.. Ever knew that?! I didnt! Fancy pancy! I cant believe I can do the Jive in something with 2 1/2 inch heels and not break my neck! Having spent most of my life either barefoot or in "sensible" heels. Theres a hidden side to me indeed!

Ah. Time to end this blog before I ramble on too much. Man in Australia has stood me up on Skype or got the time wrong, again. So I'm off to bed. No doubt there will be some excuse ... though I'm tiring of it. He needs a wakeup. I'm sick of my biological clock ticking, telling me to hitch up with a mate asap. Why cant it just bugger off. Why cant I just have more time to choose, to decide. Then I wouldnt give a damn about some Aussie guy standing me up. Destiny. Life's strange and mysterious ways.

Twinkley twinkley dreamland

Oh my word! I am Obsessed... with a ginormous, capital O.

Completely, utterly. From inner core to out. Jump up and down. Giggly. Dreamily. Fantasmically. Over the moooon.

I had it. My first one on one...

And it was the best thing in a hundred years! Oh wow! I cant stop thinking about it. Day, night - three in the morning, five to five... (when my stupid new phone woke me up to tell me that my next lesson was about to start!! Bloody thing!... The phone was only 6 days and 12 hours too early - go figure that one out! But then... guess what...... I was ALREADY awake anyway, thinking about dancing! At that time in the morning! Tossing and turning and trying to sleep... and failing abysmally with just one thing in my mind)

So - as I said in my last blog.. I started group dance classes 3 lessons ago. In a crummy school hall with an odd assortment of english people. The women outnumbering the men. The men rather nerdy looking. But I was absolutely determined. Odd people aside. On a one way mission to achieve my life long dream of learning how to dance. And blissfully free of the shackles of a disinterested boyfriend who refused to join me despite years of begging (perhaps that was just my pathetic excuse for being a scaredy cat).

For years I had been put off ever going to another class after my first experience in the sweaty tropical city of Darwin, Australia. I got some guy who thought I was after a pickup and wouldnt let go of my hand, even long after the music stopped. Eugh. Sis.

So - 3 group classes later, persevering through the line ups - men, "honorary men" (i.e. me as I had to partner with another woman), opposite women; the painfully slow explanation of the footseps; and a female partner who was rather uncoordinated... I then saw an article in the local paper about a couple who had just won some national competition and had trained at a rival dance school.

My cue... :) :)

Hoop-la! Have you ever spent a whole hour beaming from ear to ear? ME me me!! I did! I felt like I was floating in a twinkley dreamland.

My teacher was this ordinary slobby looking kind of guy in an old t-shirt and very sweaty and smelly!! Euuww! so English!! (No wonder - he'd been on the dance floor for the past 8+hours!) But he was gorgeously sweet and wonderful. He waved his magic wand - I shimmied up close to him... body touching right up close! Sweat and all. And we sailed across the floor, backwards and forwards for an hour. Past the 5 or 6 other one-on-ones, the teachers asking us if we needed more room. "My" man mumbling something about, am I SURE i've never done any other lessons before? I promise, never!! Mumbling more about "you do that really naturally"... say what ... am I a natural?! And then... to cap it off I was moaning about my stupid shoes that kept slipping their heel and saying I cant do that properly because of my shoes... He took me into their little store-room... no.. not what you are thinking! .. he took me into their steamy hot storeroom and showed me the rows of shoes for sale but said... these are for Ballroom and these are for Latin... But if you want to Compete, you need these ones, so its best you wait until you decide which you prefer, Latin or Ballroom........ Say what again!? Competing! No way!!! Cool! Never thought about that. What fun!! I want the shoes now!!! Puleeeeez! I want it ALL! Every single dance imaginable - Argentinian Tango, the Waltz, the Salsa, the Quickstep - everything! I want to come to your class tomorrow and the next day and the next... but now I have to wait a whole week! Impossible! I cant!

I feel like my soul is bursting, overflowing. This incredible release of energy. Oh my word. Honey on my wounds. I want to talk about it non-stop. Tell everyone I see. "Do you know what I did on Friday..." the hairdresser, the bank teller... Everyone. :)

:) ... :) ... :) ... :)

Slow to catch on

I realised with a tinge of grimness that I was "daddy's girl"... only... daddy is now on the other side with all the Angels..

Bugger. What a loss to realise such a thing once he is gone. Thanks dad!!! Million times over.

No more paid flights, no more little surprise gifts. Now just one of the other siblings. He spoilt me rotten even though i often shunned his spoiling, feeling guilty about accepting his gifts. Silly me! So English!

Well, one things good out of your death dad - I'm no longer that scared of death anymore.

********

Today we had fleeting moments of blizzard conditions - its dark now and i'm fingers crossing it will be thick snow in the morning as predicted :) Once and always will be a little girl.

*********

Friday I go for my first one on one dance lesson - YESSssss!! Life long dream. Yay yay yay! So what better year to achieve that than my FORTIETHHhhh... (did I mention that word?) Well I've been to two classes already (had to partner with a woman as there werent enough men... and in any case, those that were there werent worth partnering with! Gees some wierrrd people!). but decided I'd take the bull by the horns and launch myself full speed into one on ones.. No messing around here now!

Ballroom/Latin Champion here I come!

See ya

Twinkley toes :)

Amazon Energy

Two weeks today of NOOOO coffeee!!

Impressed?!

I am!

And you know what - I think its making me lose weight? Pleasantly shockingly! What a great surprise reward! Incredible.

Free CD in the newspaper this morning, so I'm sitting listening to Amazon frogs and rain falling... and ... oh dear... its making me homesick :(.

I'm on a journey right now, not quite sure what that journey is yet. I'm just waiting to see where it takes me, but so far it has taken me a very long way from long grass, red earth, mangoes and rain. The buzz of mosquitoes and deafening frog symphonies. Smells and sounds. Heuglins Robin in the evening, Wood Owls at night.. Hmm.

I say to myself "What the....!!!?" InSANE girl? Living a desk job in rural England. But... its part of life's rich tapestry. I'm on a journey of discovery.

***********

ooopsss... I never finished this blog. Was in a wierd space. So what the hell. will post it anyway - finished or not. But now its THREE weeks of no coffee!!! And still getting damned "I'dkillforacoffeeee" symptoms. When will they go away!!! Gees... and they say alcoholism is a tough nut to crack!! I'm so BORED of herbal teas!!! So so bored! How much Rooibos; cranberry this; lemon that; ginger whatsits can I take!!! Might have to try Nettle tea just for something different. Anyway - My hair and my skin and perhaps ... just a teeny perhaps... my moods, are healtheir. And my hips are miraculously youthful... no more constant groaning from them :) Look on the positive side girl and stop wingeing!

Excited, Excited!!!

You know. Its finally starting to creep in. That anticipation of new things to come.

In just 2 teeny little days the world will have a new leader in power.

Gone that awful, dangerous hedonist who was only after his own ignorant, egocentric means. Who did so much long-term harm to this world. I have so often wondered how things would have been had Al Gore got in. Oh so different. Now we are wobbling and spinning out of control on so many axes, not only "The great Axis of Evil". (What a stupid fool whoever coined that phrase... oh,... was it Dubyah??!.. ha.. surprise). Obama has a daunting task ahead of him, kind of like those B grade drama movies where the pilot is pulling back on the levers with all his might to keep the plane from plunging to the earth.

I'm not normally one for US politics and Dubyah certainly turned me off completely. But I am excrutiatingly conscious of how much impact the US has on the earth we all share. So a tiny flame was lit inside me reading this wonderful blog The Gold Puppy by Reya in Washington DC. She sowed the seed for an excitement that is growing, spreading through my veins. It really IS happening. There IS hope. WE CAN DO THIS! We can make the world a better place.

Thought for the day: We share this precious earth with all living beings. We like to think of ourselves as superior - we are not. And we should not be fooled into this concept.

My daily inspiration: Wild Wonders of Europe and especially the blog by Magnus .

Coming "off" it

I'm on self-enforced coffee cold turkey.

Figured that my week(s) of poor-sorry-me depression cant remain blamed on a mega case of PMT; slights by my sister-in-law; or on the grey freezing days; or on my job which is awesome but reeeely scary!; or my mother who is so kind but cant replace my dad; or being overweight cos I'm not or lack of exercise cos there really IS no excuse; or my dad being dead because it was his time to be called; or my split between unavailable French man or far away Aussie man; or just or...

NOPE! Pull yourself together woman! Lilly livered sissy. The coffee has got to go! I dont know where that got decided. Maybe dad's ghost was in the kitchen this morning whilst I was unloading the dishwasher and setting to with an enthusiastic frenzy of making cranberry and apple smoothies (yummo!). Something or someone said "no" to me.

I'm now engulfed in a dreadful headache. Constant, dull, brain crushing. No pain no gain huh! OK - so this must be a good sign then. Perhaps I can make this last longer than a day. Perhaps I can make this last even! No more blackness suffocating my soul, no more sleep depriving achy hips from too much arthritis causing caffeine. No more irritability (wow!). Could this be the dawn of my 2009....

With my new found joie de vivre I walked dad's walk this morning. An hour by the lanes to the little village shop to get the Weekend paper. It was like being in a winter fairyland. Now I understand what on earth they mean when they say "freezing fog". Double Dutch to me until this morning. Im told its called "Rime Frost" and is really rare and only occurs when there is fog and frost. The fog freezes on the trees and on the grass and on the bushes and shrubs and flowers and twigs; twiglets; leaves; berries. Everything everywhere is covered by centimetres of frost that has melted and refrozen in icicles that hang, sparkling in the sunshine. It is COOL! Really really cool. Inspires an instant child-like wonder. Yesterday we had the same, but it was thick thick fog when I obliged myself to do my walk across the fields coocooning me in my own special world. Bouncing sound-waves off at strange angles so that the noise of distant cars sounded bizarre.

But today was better. Much better. I walked behind the house and paused, mesmerised. The neighbours trees bordering the field were entirely covered in glorious sparkling white ice. The little branches hanging over the path making a tunnel through a magical world.

I walked up to the dam, it was almost completely frozen over except for 5 white swans sitting elegantly in one corner. And as I walked on down the frosty lanes slipping on the puddles of ice, more swans flew over honking adding to the other-worldly feeling. My special walk i did with dad so many times as he was dying, ravaged by lung cancer. He would have just loved today. Just loved it. Been on top of the world.

I met a woman with a bundle of salvaged kindling and a newspaper. (She'd obviously been to the shop too). Eager to share in my joy I bubbled my pleasure at her and got a carrot-up-my-arse stuck up English plumbed response. I think she was so caught off guard that I greeted her she didnt know what to say. Or perhaps she was caught off guard that i was so wonderfully enthusiastic by this incredible morning because she expected me to moan about it. Or perhaps she just thought i was a commoner - wrong there girl! Silly woman. If she paused for one moment she would see what she was missing. I felt sorry for her.

"There are none so old as those that have lost enthusiasm"

Scatter brain scatter brain

Ah but I ommitted why Betty is called "Betty of the eggs".

She has chickens. Not ordinary chickens. "Rescue chickens" of course my dear! Bantams that love to fly up and roost in the trees. Anyway - there is another woman in the village called Biddy and I could never for the life of me remember who was Biddy, who was Betty, wasnt there a Batty or a Bitty? So "Betty of the eggs" stuck.

And the golf course... this is no ordinary golf course - its wild and covered mostly in spiky gorse bush and is where very suspicious things go on that are related to our local butcher... but perhaps I will keep that for another blog. Now I'm supposed to be working! Oops! :)

The year of good things

Ah.. 2009. Finally.

A family from the village who are quite mad, adopted us for New Year. Well, the octagenarian mother who I shall name "Betty of the eggs", invited us to gatecrash her son's engagement party! Way to go girl!

Betty of the eggs is a passionate animal lover of note. We had invited her over for pre-New Year's eve drinks and she spoke of nothing else. I'm told every spare inch of her house is dedicated to dogs. Bones are not considered an outdoor thing. Oh but she does have sheets on her sofas! She gets up at 4.45am every morning, makes the dogs their sandwiches and then heads off, in the pitch dark, without a torch to walk the dogs on the golf course! And I'm talking PITCH dark! Winter freezing pitch dark. Cant see your hand in front of your face dark. How on earth she manages it the mind boggles. She can hardly walk without a stick. Has just had a second hip replacement. The first replacement still makes her wobble as the ligaments havnt healed or something or other. Ah but her joie de vivre, her nonchalance, her kindness is so refreshing.

My niece was invited out to see the horses shortly before midnight (they have rescue horses too) and picking her way through Betty of the eggs' half of the house confirmed that indeed, the house is overrun with dogs beds. In fact, quite impossible to get across the sitting room there are so many sleeping spots. Well, eccentric! pah! Her daughter-in-law to be was instantly accepted as she came complete with pet pig! Not an ordinary pig, a huge mother... hairy spotty black and white, squashed in face with tusks thing. A "rescue pig"! Oh my word! And I thought I was open minded. But this thing really was something! They took us out to see it in the freezing winter night. They had constructed a picture perfect pig's dolls house. Whilst they cooed at it and fed it bananas I had a surreal "what on earth am I doing" experience. No wonder the horses were terrified of it!

Anyway - you know what. 2008 was such a horrid time. Just so awful. That it was fitting to end it slightly off the wall.

I'm looking forward to 2009. We all have less money, so many of us had personal tragedies - sickness, deaths, sadness. Quite uncanny the hand that was dealt. But we have new blood amongst many of the world's politicians now - USA, Aus, France. OK some of those are old news. But it just feels like things are going to be better now. We have people to lead us who will do better for humanity. We will be less greedy because we dont have as much money to throw around - so perhaps we will become more generous, more loving, more in balance. We had the Queen's speech and a speech from Iran's president Amna Dinajad (argh! No idea how to spell that, I need to swat up! Dad would be shocked!). It was for me so significant to have these two people sending profound messages of wisdom to the world. Both of them focussing essentially on centering our lives. Being less egocentric. Respect for others. My head was saying Yes! Yes! Its time now. We are ready.

So, I approach 2009 not quite knowing what the point of life on earth is about. Dad's death has made me deeply deeply philosophical. Less scared of my own death. In a way, calmer. And, as if in a dream, I approach the new year, floating, ready. Sad, but just ok and a bit excited too!

Dreams are funny things

I relived dad's funeral last night. But this time, he was alive. Very surreal.

I was at home, in Ndola, the town where I grew up in central Africa. The church was supposed to have organised the drinks and the food, but they let me down. So I had had to do everything myself. Mum and dad arrived at the house at dusk, in the landcruiser, just in time. So with only half an hour to spare I sent dad off to buy drinks and a $100 note to change into Kwacha. I found mum curled up on the bed saying she couldnt come to the funeral as she had atrocious diarhoea. I was getting really anxious as dad hadnt even got ready for his funeral yet.
Finally he returned and we were at the Cathedral. He had a glass fronted office there and people were all milling around. We had some spare time so I invited 3 men to come in and chat with dad. I touched his hands. It was so vivid. So real. Real flesh. Real sensation. They were cold and I realised the ominous sign. He needed to rest immediately or blood would start pouring out of him. He had jet lag and was exhausted. I shovveled the men out including one guy who wanted to leave his suitcase in the office. But then I couldnt get dad to relax. He started wandering through the back warehouses of his old office unlocking great barred doors into the empty workshops with their blackened floors to look around nostalgically. Someone else was there. And then this beautiful singing started. Drifting to us from the Cathedral. He was late for his funeral. Dad... we HAVE to go..

Today its so freezing the water in the bird bath is frozen. Smoke from the houses in the village sitting, grey above us. Everything grey. Days and days of grey. I'm supposed to be doing dad's final tax return and am finding everything under the sun to mess around with, but that.