So you've broken your arm...what next?

Saturday night, your child gets brought home, he's tripped over his own feet, fallen and you can see straight away it's broken...

Off to A&E...where is A&E OMFG...

There's a hospital near us, Unitas, Peter went there to the travel clinic, they must have an A&E, it's going to be a long night...oh wait it's not the UK, we've got private medical care which I'm still not sure how to use, but here goes.

Arrive at hospital at 6pm, Peter meets us there, he was out at the driving range.


Straight in, give a few details, Alex is weighed, blood pressure taken. Asked to go out front and set up a file for payment...

After the previous hassles we had with Dan in A&E and making payments, it's decided I will complete all the necessary paperwork as Peter travels so much with his job, it makes sense for me to recieve the bills and deal with it all.

Now bare in mind it's a good job Peter is there or Alex, aged 12 would now be all by himself, already crying, in pain and quite distressed.



Give our med aid details, ask if they have an account with our providers and will all costs be covered, reassured yes, sign forms...hang on a minute, I'm not signing this...told to cross out anything I don't agree with and initial it...the bit I cross out says something along the lines of 'I accept that I will not hold anyone responsible for any negligence caused by our staff during any procedures and will not hold them liable'...er feck off.

By now it's 6.45pm I return to Alex, an xray has been booked, he's been informed his arm is probably broken and he may need surgery, again am grateful Peter is here as he'd had to reassure him it would be ok.



By 7.30pm he's been xrayed, it is broken, he will need surgery and to stay in for the night and at 7.45pm we're on our way to the ward...the adult's ward, he's wheeled into a room with two beds...er can he have his own room...yes, if we pay for it...I explain I'm not happy with my son sharing a room with a male, a grown up, a possible paedophile, No I'm not being over the top I worked in child protection in the UK, I demand admission to Paedeatrics.



Once Alex was settled, head phones plugged in, I went home to wash, pack an over night bag and grab something to eat, leaving Peter watching Alex, watching the TV.


I returned to the hospital at 9.30pm. The hospital had fed and watered Peter and sorted out bedding for me for the night. Peter went home and an hour later as promised, Alex weas wheeled down to theatre. I was dressed like a smurf, Alex counted back from 10...'3....2....1 I'm still awake mummy' then out like a light...


by 11.50pm we were back on the ward, bone realigned, he wakes, sits up and yells 'it's blue, I like it, I want hot chocolate and crisps and chocolate, my sandwiches, where are my sandwiches, yuk they're tuna, the nurse said they were chicken, where's my xray, I want my xray, did they cut my top, where's my socks, mum, mum'

I was dispatched to the vending machines for his order, he ate, fell asleep and I left the hospital at 1am, the hospital is only 7kms away and I ignored the lights and the speed limit and drove home.

Alex was very pleased to see me in the morning, he'd been in pain over night as his cast was too tight, the baby, the drip, the nurses had kept him awake all night, he'd been given more pain meds in the night and the nurses said he was so funny with the stuff he was coming out with....home by 10am.



PS despite telling the Dr his cast was too tight, twice, we were ignored, and had to return on Tuesday evening to have the cast cut to relieve the pressure after he spent the day with his arm elevated and clutching an ice pack...I refused to pay any additional charges and made a follow up appointment for 3 weeks.

The bills started coming in and dribs and drabs, some were to pay myself and claim back, others direct...I informed our med aid company that I wasn't happy with this, had a little strop (I'm getting good at this) and all bills were paid direct by the time we got back off holiday.

On a positive note

What I missed...

What did I miss not being in the UK?

I was missing just going out, parking the car in town or even walking into town...I never used buses as I got travel sick, but I was craving to get on a train with a latte in my hand from what ever outlet was near by and just plain old walking around.

And when I got back to the UK I realised actually just how much I'd missed it...I didn't even mind the rain as I'd not seen any since the 2nd of June.

I realised I'd missed it still being light after 6pm, the smell of the grass, the noise of the traffic, the variety of shops and the range of products and mustn't forget the free wifi.

Who's your support network?

When I had my kids I lived in a small village in the Forest of Dean in Gloucestershire. Ive just turned 40 and my kids are 19, 16 and 12...I also have 2 step kids aged 23 and 22.

At the time I'm talking about I only had two children they were newborn and aged 2, I moved away when they were 10 and 7 and had another child aged 2.

I joined a local playgroup, saw the health visitor at clinics on a regular basis, took turns to have friends round with their kids, went to play groups, met up for picnics in the parks, bike rides etc, the kids went to nursery, preschool and school together, with the same group of people for the 8 years...a few new people moved to the village and joined the same groups and a few moved away.

We all helped out at the school with fundraising and fetes, at church groups, cubs and brownies and the local football team.

Yes there was a clique, there was the one with the foul mouth, the one who let their kids run wild, the one that had an affair and split the village, the one that had a bit more spare cash than the rest of us and the odd falling out about who's child started it.

But on the whole it was good, I'd even been to school with 2 other parents in a different town, there were nights out, tears and endless babysitting.

We were all a similar age, from similar backgrouds and similar experiences. It wasn't idylic but it was fun.

Do you have this? This was 1995-2002, I didn't get a mobile phone or the internet till 2000.

I wish it was still like this, today when you have a baby you reach out to the internet for information and advice, breast feeding, what age to leave your kids alone or let them out in the street...

...but when you get your response from 100's of people and experts does it make you feel good, does it make you feel as if you're doing it all wrong or does it help justify your parenting skills?

Remember when you use the internet, twitter, facebook or google you're reaching a much wider audience, you're recieving advice from people that haven't had kids, people from completly different social and financial backgrounds, different ages, countries, experiences.

It doesn't mean that they're right and you're wrong.

WTF is blogging etiquitte?

Sod off and get a life.....

If someone argues the toss with me...and they have and they will again...over my views and opinions, I'll defend myself alright, It's my take on things, it's from my view point and from my experience...

If you have a different view point or different experiences that's great, share, but don't tell me I'm wrong...I'll argue/debate for so long then I'll walk away...if anyone wants to defend me that's great also, but I won't be pimping for support to back my views up...I'm not bothered with follower numbers, comments or who's list I'm on, most of my blogging is for friends to read that aren't on twitter or facebook and they are also forming in part a diary for us of our lives in South Africa.

If people become abusive, offensive or use foul language I walk away, especially when it happens on other peoples blogs...I don't get involved..it's not my fight...

If it happens to me in real life I don't go phoning a friend, or drag a stranger into the row...I walk away, so why do people think it's different on the internet?

You'd walk away from someone in the street being abusive so do the same on the internet, unfriend, unfollow. Block them if they are abusive and if they threaten you go to the police, don't stay around to be bullied and threatend, don't fight back....just walk away

What I'd do differently

If I was coming to South Africa now, knowing what I do, this is what I'd do differntly.

I'd get my visa sorted and in my hand before I did anything else...mind you I'd still need to choose a school in advance...to get the study visa.

First things first...

1. Visit the country you intend to move to

visit the banks, the mobile phone shops, find out who the car and house insurance companies are

find out what documents and conditions apply to do any of the above

drive around the area, hire a driver if necessary, look at various areas, prices for housing and visit as many schools as you can

get a list of house agents in advance, call them, find out rental prices, deposits

go shopping, especially the supermarkets, check out the cost of things, especailly cars and what requirements are in place to purchase one

talk to people

2. Use companies for the removal of your furniture based in the country you're moving to...they will know the regulations at customs, hidden charges etc..they will use a local agent in your home country that you will be able to communicate with. You need your visa number before they can ship your belongings.

3. If you own a property...do not move until you've either a) completed the sale or b) found tennants....it is cheaper and easier in the long run to rent a place than to leave your home country without having sorted yours out first, the same applies with all final bills associated with the property, the same also goes with a car, try and sell it as quick as possible or if you want to take it with you, get your country of arrival to arrange this.

4. get your post redirected to a busy person...someone that is prepared to open and scan your mail asap so you can sort any final demands quickly...you will also need a UK correspondence address for all mail associated with your bank accounts.

5. Make sure if you have temporary accomodation in your new country that it is in both your names, as you will need proof of residency to open up any and every account. In South Africa make sure you have at least one utility bill at your physical address in South Africa, if you choose to have a PO No.

Differences between UK and SA

It doesn't look like anything has changed in the UK since I left in January, but my trip back last week did highlight the differences and all of them were negative...OK so I arrived back to the riots, seriously nothing to do with me.

I'll start with the media...all doom and gloom, newspapers and the TV describing Broken Britian,almost condoning the riots and the looting, with their explanations and reasons as to why these people were behaving the way they did...they have nothing...yeah so what...come to South Africva and see what NOTHING really looks like and the vast differences between rich and poor..you see here in South Africa if you don't have a job, you don't have money, therefore you don't have a house to sit in and watch SKY TV all day, complaining how the government and education system have failed you and absolutly no benefits...

People...How rude? and as for queing, the English say they're good at it...no they ain't..they're good at moaning about it, complaining if you're taking too long or if someone dares to push in...kids screachingin the supermarkets, parents ignoring them or screeching back, snide looks and heavy tutting, no patience, no waiting...here you have to queue for everything, for hours, only to be told to come back another day...very few tempers flare up.

Everyone in the UK feels they have a right to comment on everything, yet do nothing about it...mutter under their breath, snort and tut heavily but that's it...no offers of help when struggling with 3 cases, 2 hand luggage and a child with his arm in a cast, the bus driver and the passengers tutting as I try to get on the bus...I'm more than capable of lifting and moving the said luggage, just not in one bloody go.

South Africa is aclean place, I didn't realise how clean till I went back to the UK. I even tweeted Tesco with a picture of the mess outside the front of their store in Newport, all the public toilets weren't clean.

Everyone moans about the state of the roads in SA, the pot holes in particular, but the UK was just as bad, if not worse...the major roads in SA are 4-6 lanes, they resurface them regulary, they don't shut the whole road down and take several months, they resurface lane 2, you still drive on lanes 1, 3 and 4.

I don't know who it was but somesome said the 'whites in the UK were behaving like the blacks'..try being Black here...mind you if you're white it's just as hard...yes there are violent crimes, hijacking, armed robbery, but you don't see fights in the streets, drunken behaviour, people don't swear at you if you accidentially bump into them, kids don't hang round street corners scaring people and preventing them from walking past, the streets aren't full of litter, the toilets are always clean.

Racism is still an issue here, but there isn't an obvious class system, you're either black, white, rich or poor.

Taking kids abroad

I've checked the government websites and cannot find any information or guidance about travelling with kids abroad when they have a different surname to you.

In 2008 we drove to France, via the tunnel, me, hubby and my eldest was 16. Peter stayed on in France for a few days and was flying back after some business and Jamie and I drove back.

We arrived at the port to be questioned about why we had booked for 3 but only 2 were returning, I explained to customs that the tunnel booking hadn't allowed us to book 3 out and 2 back and that my husband was flying back at a later date...OK no probs...but what is your relationship to the child in the vehicle...I said he was my son..why the different surnames...I explained I'd re married...did I have any proof he was my son...I had a scan photo in my wallet, just ask him, he's 16 FFS...eventually they let us through and suggested I carried his birth certificate with me when we travelled again....

...and here lies the problem...my son had my maiden name which was changed by deed pole when I married, then I got divorced and remarried...so to prove he was my I'd need to carry his birth certificate and mine to prove my maiden name, then my marriage certificate to show my previous name, then my new marriage certificate to prove my new name and make the connection back to my sons name...

So from then on I carried all this documentation with me when we flew anywhere...but was never asked for it, the US, Tunisia, Turkey.

When we moved to South Africa we had visas, we'd had to have a letter of permission from the children's father to obtain the visas...no problem leaving the UK, but when I tried to take the youngest out of the UK after a visit home last week, I went through the same problems.

FFS do these people not understand a Visa and the process I went through, no one anywhere tells you to carry all the above mentioned documents when travelling abroad with kids. They finally let us through in immigration at Heathrow, but advised I carried his birth certificate on the next visit...which still wouldn't prove he was my son, just that I had his birth certificate.

No wonder I'm ill

After an emotional good bye to my 19 year old in the UK last week and a minor car crash (was stationary at lights with handbrake on and a BMW drove into the back of me, in Mother in Laws car)a long delay in Paris in the middle of the night, I arrive back to South Africa to collect the car which Peter had valet parked for me when he flew out to Cape Town.

I got mugged at the door by Dan for his spoils, slept longer than I wanted in the afternoon and finally got back to sleep past midnight.

On Friday I couldn't find my car keys, Peter had put them somewhere safe. I collected Peter and his colleague from the airport Friday evening, stopped for a meal on the way home and crawled into bed at midnight (again)

Saturday morning Peter goes to golf, I'm not feeling well, tummy ache and feeling sick. I try to start the car to go food shooping, having located the keys, and the battery is dead...great..I call OUTsurance breakdown to be informed I only have 2 free call outs per year. So Dan and I attempt to bump start the car, but we can't get it up the slope in the garage. Peter and colleague get home we try jump starting it, no bloody luck so we give up.

Sunday night I drop Peter off at the airport, I've been able to drink but haven't been able to hold down any food. I have an emotional drive home as I won't see Peter now for two weeks, collapse into bed, but unable to sleep.

Managed some lunch today and was promptly sick. the neighbours came round to offer some help with the car, but I've called the garage and they're sending someone out. I broke down. Told them about the bump last week and they've made me an appointment with the chiropractor and will take me later in the week.

The garage get the car started, I'm low on fuel, go to get fuel discover I've a flat tyre, drive to the tyre place to be told they don't have a valve for my jeep, walk to the garage, they call the tyre place who replace the faulty valve, but I have to go back once they get a valve with a sensor in it.

I'm tired, ill and miserable, I've got tea to cook, washing to bring in and a thumping headache...

...but then Peter calls and suddendly I'm feeling better having off loaded and told him off for abondoning me...lol

Internet Porn

If I want to see your bits, then I'll ask....I'll google, I'll buy a magazine...
but I do not want to see them on here. I'm not a prude...I just don't do porn...I don't even own a vibrator.

If I was walking down the street and someone flashed their bits at me, I'd call the police (once I'd finished laughing), next person down the street could be a child.

I'd be asked for a statement, I'd give a description of the person (not their bits)

Hopefully they'd be arrested, if caught, and charged.

So why is it different if someone flashes me on twitter, posting pictures in their timeline or even with an @ to me?

Go find yourself a forum where people request to see your bits, when they have sought out this type of activity...

...and stop 'shoving'* it down my throat...

*pun intended

UK Riots

Arrived back in the UK to riots and looting....

The dictionary says Looting is valuables pillaged in time of war...

YOU ARE NOT AT WAR YOU STUPID UNEDUCATED PILLOCKS

I have a 19yo and a 22yo both male. The youngest lives in the UK and is training in hotel management and the eldest is in the British Army based in Germany.

The youngest worked really hard in school, managed the 5 GCSEs and has opted for the vocational route rather than Uni. The eldest couldn't be arsed and yet still got the 5 GCSE's and also opted for training rather than furhter education.

They work hard, they have full support from their family, they've caused us concern in the past, mates, trouble, attitude but they know if they want anything they have to work for it.

They are the same generation as the looters, which means by default, we are from the same generation as their parents...so what went wrong?

This country went down hill, in my opinion, when Mary Whitehouse died...Where do I send my application form?

At the airport (part 2)

Had hoped for 'Plane' sailing, but nothing in my life is simple. Checked in with Air France to be told we boarded at 6.30pm. I said 'that's a bit early for a 8.30pm flight, to be informed the flight was 7.30pm. A quick goodbye with hubby (no time for tears) arrived at Passport control and OMFG!!!!!!

My passport was fine, scanned and a few questions about when I arrived, my visa status, was I returning to SA?...I was a bit concerned about leaving the country and being allowed back in, but all was OK...Alex's passport was another matter...it had been date stamped but he hadn't been entered onto the system. Why the different surname, any proof he was my son? I informed the woman that we had all arrived on January the 19th with Peter and my other son, she made the connection on the system, entered his details and off we went at speed to the gate.

Got to our seats, leg room, bliss, plane moves to runway, taxi's and takes off on time. The screens in front of us are activated and the arse hole in front leans round (there's no seat in front of me for the emergency exit) and says 'your son won't be using the touch screen as I don't want disturbing on the flight' I was stunned, in fact so shocked I didn't even swear at him, he proceeded to recline his seat, making sure he rocked it several times. During the flight he lolled over with his arm and head into my floor space and I nudged him gently with my foot, waking him, he glared at me...I said 'touch screen, now please move out of my space that I've paid for' nudged him several more times till he got the message. The sad thing is, he wasn't interfering with 'my space'. Alex was using the remote control for the touch screen and the bloke wasn't actually disturbing us, but point made.

The seats on Air France have a gap between the arm rests and the side of the plane, making leaning against the wall impossible, the arm rests didn't lift up and when Alex slept in the floor space I was unable to lay across his seat and get any sleep. The cabin crew drew the curtain around their little bit and carried on talking throughout the flight and everyone stood to stretch during their flight in front of us, talking and waiting for the toilet, who's door was opened and closed all night.

On arrival in Paris we had to clear security, our bags went straight through, I was tired, uncomfortable, a little smelly and asked for help from the airport staff with 2 laptops, a child with his arm in a cast, the hand luggage, locating passports and told NO. I was furious when they made Alex remove his cardi, over his cast. I found the toilets, the smoking room, an area for Alex to have a little sleep and then headed to the cafe for coffee, fruit juice and croissants, to be informed we only take notes, not coins. So I find a nice English man, explain I only have British coins, the UK banks stopped my cards months ago for irregular activity, despite telling them I'm in SA and he changes my coins into notes for me.

An smooth flight to Heathrow, where Alex's Dad is waiting for us. Alex ran out the door, leapt up into his Dads arms, having last seen him in December and made the woman, stood by the side, cry.

Back to the UK (part one)

Dan was off to Mozambique with his friend and family for a week which involved a visa which actually turned out to be a quick and easy process considering all the hassle we've had doing everything else since arriving in South Africa, one visit to get the info, a trip to the bank to pay the fee, 2nd visit to drop off completed form and proof of payment and the final trip in the afternoon to collect the visa. At the same time we were doing this Peter announced he was off to Denmark in August, then the UK for a week, Alex had tripped and broken his arm, we were recovering from 5 solid weeks of visitors and I was feeling sorry for myself.

It's been non stop, sort this, sort that, change address, cancel accounts and I've had a hissy fit, a strop and booked 2 flights for me and Alex to the UK for a week. I started packing as soon as the flights were booked, located UK Sim card, scraped up £20 in pound coins, loaded the laptop with films, called family and friends and made arrangements, asked MIL to insure her car.

Spent the day before the flight cleaning the house while Peter and Alex went on a 8 hr trip to take Dan and his mate to Nelspruit to meet his mates parents for their 12hr road trip to Mozambique. Monday all the bedding was washed and beds re made and as I've been told off for chavving up the golf estate, I had to use the tumble dryer.

Alex spent the entire day pestering me 'what time are we going?' 'how long now?' and eventually at 4.30pm we left for the airport, cases cling wrapped, I get a touch of the 'I hate flying' and a touch of guilt about all the money (we don't have) I've spent on the flights, upset about leaving Peter, this will be the longest time we've been apart and the fact that this is the first time I've done such a big journey on my own...

...but what could possible go wrong?

If you don't tell me I'm getting it wrong, how am I ever supposed to know?

I go through life disappointed. Disappointed in myself and others but mainly with myself. I've blogged before about givers and takers and lack of post from the UK since moving here.

I aim too high, I set my standards to high and I fall, every bloody time. I won't learn, I can't change, but I am learning not to let it affect me like it used to.

Now I have a little rant, I have a little cry, sometimes I tweet it, but I no longer challenge.

I find if I dare to complain, tell someone that their reaction to my well thought out intentions has hurt me or explain why their actions or words have upset me, it ends up with them verbally attacking me, explaining how my expectations make them feel and why I make them behave the way they do towards me and I end up apologing for making them feel like that. And the issue of how I felt is left, undiscussed. But at least they feel better.

My biggest problem is I offer help/support/guidance when I see or hear them in trouble or when they post a comment or when I'm told by a third party something is wrong and they need help. But I do it in my way, not they way they want apparently. I spend my time looking for the right gift rather than just chucking money their way, I write what I think they want/need to hear and until they say my advice/help/support/guidance/gifts aren't wanted I just carry on blindly.

Since moving to South Africa I've discovered who/what is important to me, I've got rid of some deadwood, hangers on/takers. I've done this as a response from all the lovely letters, emergency PG Tips parcels, phone calls, personal messages, skype calls, emails and mostly but not entirely from people I've never even met. (Isn't twitter a wonderful place)

But what I've noticed and what has upset me the most is while people feel they can have a go at me because I'm not writing enough, I'm not making enough calls. Calls are expensive, the internet doesn't always work. I've sent photo's, gifts and long letters, I ask them questions about their lives, jobs, kids to give them something to reply to. But then they don't write back, evderyone loves to hear from me, everyone loves the photos's, the gifts, the letters. They don't reply, they've got nothing to say, they don't say thanks, they don't post a message to say I got your gift and thank you. I post comments on their face book, I reply to their status updates and the most I get back is a 'like'.

So no more, you reply to me I'll reply to you, you bother with me and I'll bother with you, that's how it works, it doesn't have to be a letter or a call it could just me a message to me, rather than posting your general news in my timeline or public announcements on face book.

So when you don't get a card for your birthday or at christmas and I don't pop in and say Hi when I return to the UK in December, it'll be your turn to be disappointed, your turn to wonder what you've done wrong and I won't be engaging in a conversation with you either so you can feel better.....it'll be your turn to wonder why?

Why is it only me?

I lay in bed this morning with a cup of tea and The World according to Clarkson (seperate story but a bloody good book, had me in stitches)

We have a washing machine that sings when it finishes, a little similar to 'It's a mad, mad world after all' Think theme parks, kiddie rides, Euro Disney, thats the one. Anyway it plays at least three verses, now I heard it singing to signal the end of the cycle, pestering to be hung up.

But it seems the washing machine sound is similar to a dog whistle. Only dogs can hear the whistle only women can hear the washing machine.

So getting out of bed, I open the bedroom door, walk through the dining area, past the lounge where the men folk are watching the Rugby, through the kitchen, open the door to the utility room where I find the washing machine just finishing its little tune and hang the washing up.

I walk back following the same route for hubby to say 'what you doing?' I reply 'I'm hanging the washing up' he says 'Oh I never heard it finish' I was waiting to do that for you'

Men!!!! Pah!!!!

Two things your children should never listen to

Their parents having sex and any discussions that involve planning. So far I think we've avoided both.

Kids we're moving to Malvern, yes, yes new schools, friends, clubs,activities etc. School, clubs and activites named....(obviously I can't name the new friends in advance)

This is the new house and these are the rooms you'll be in.

We're changing your school, you will now be going here...for the following reasons (there is a list)

You will be leaving home at 18 to follow a career, you're welcome to stay living here is you're either in University or can evidence you're saving up a deposit from your job for your own place. You're welcome to come home inbetween jobs, training, education for transistion periods (so far two children sucessfully left home both in training, one in the army in Germany the other in Hotel Management in Reading.)

Kids we're moving to South Africa in 3 months, this is your new school and we'll make the rest up as we go along.

And so far, no major problems, 'his room is bigger than my room' 'yes but you have a better bathroom than he does' 'I hate my new school uniform (shorts and long socks) 'OK so do I actually and I know wearing shorts at 16 is a tad embarrassing, but hey, everyone else is wearing the same silly clothes'

But the one thing as parents we can't manage, the one thing that ends up with sulks, rows 'I'm not going' is planning the family holiday.

We let it slip (OK they pester all year to find out where we're going) we've been to the States, Turkey, Tunisia, Egypt, Gites in France when they were younger. 5 kids in tow is a major operation. One is disabled the other four are boys they all have their preferences, one wants theme parks, the other wants bloody electronic and game shops, one wants to dig a hole in the sand all day and do nothing else and the other just shrugs and says 'don't ask me, I like it when you just plan it and tell us when and where'

And this year is no different, we always leave the planning of holidays till the last minute, something always comes up, I've written the end of terms dates down wrong, their Dads factory fortnight holiday has been changed, Nanna is going away somewhere and we have to juggle everyone to fit it all in. But this year we decided not to have a holiday as we're living in SOuth Africa, but Hubby has to go to Europe with work and is going to tag on a few days to see the kids we left behind. The eldsest is off to Mozambique for a week with his friend and his parents (Must sort out his visa, it's only next weekend) so that leaves me and the 12 year old. I want to return to the UK for a week, hubby says it's too expensive, eldest says it's not fair as he will miss a visit with his dad and the youngest, who is 12, cannot understand why we are speaking in whispers in the kitchen.

Because if we tell him our plans he'll go beserk if we end up not being able to go, blame the eldest for feeling left out, blame hubby for being tight and quite frankly that's why we don't discuss things with our kids.

in your own time Suzanne........

So today I did it, I've been thinking about it and lots of people have suggested it, I just wasn't ready and besides I wanted to find the right place.

I got off my arse and took my CV to an enterprise centre, it's a charity to help and support Africans in using the skills they have and providing the training they need to run their own businessess.

I'm starting off one day a week in a new area, education and training in Customer Care and basic life skills, managing money, budgeting etc.

I have a skill area, these people have a need and hopefully together (it will be a long slow process) we can both achieve something.

*goes to desk to sort out pre entry NVQ teaching material, with a spring in her step*

The grass is always greener

Some of my tweets are replied to with 'stop your moaning, I'd love to be able to give up work and be a SAHM' others with 'I understand things are hard' either way I find myself in a very strange situation.

I'm not allowed to work, but it's through choice.

I chose to come to South Africa with Peter's job, it was a quick move, we hired an agency, I got a two years visitors visa.

Great I can finally sit back and reap the benefits of being a SAHM, I can focus 100% on my OU studies and enjoy the sun.

Ok I'm enjoying the sun and it's winter, I had to give up my studies (there's distance learning and then there's distance learning) and as for being a SAHM I've left it a bit late. My kids are 16 & 12, give them a weekend or school holiday and I'm lucky to see them from dawn till dusk.

I feel isolated, lonely and without purpose. I can revisit my visa situation in December and I've made enquiries with Pretoria uni to finish my degree there, I've considered getting a dog for company and my cooking, baking and making skills are now almost at a professional level, I've refused to hire a maid to give me something to do.

But I still need something to do, something to give me purpose and a focal point, but I haven't a clue where to start.

I made friends in school, college, mother and toddler groups, the kids school, the work place...but how do I make friends now, find things out, get to know what jobs are around, clubs activities? (remember I don't live in the safest of countries)

I'd love to hear from other people in similar situations.

We're not on an ex pat package or even emigrated, but we have moved our entire life over here with no plans to return.

Peter gets a statement to pay for his credit card. Can you pay this for me? Yeah no problem, I took care of the bills in the UK mainly cos I was passing the banks most days and worked in the centre of Worcester. So my role continues here in South Africa especially as I'm not working.
But the problem is because I don't have a job I can't have anything in my own name, but even so how hard is it to pay a credit card bill? Well it goes like this.

Who's the credit card with? Our med aid company *digs out med aid info* sets up online service.

1st problem the med aid company information assumes I've used med aid before.

So I go to our bank. We need to set them up as a beneficiary, ok I can do that. Beneficary is similar to a direct debit but it doesn't automatically take a payment monthly you have to action it.

So I sign in, go to beneficiaries. It asks for a branch and account number. I don't have one. Email med aid company for info, no response. How am I supposed to know the med aid and the credit card departments are separate companies. Silly girl I assumed they'd either a) tell me this or b) pass the email on.

So back to online banking to set up credit card payment. It sends Reference number to the mobile phone, need to call Peter to ask him for the number as it's his phone it's sent to. This is a security measure.
Next they want to know beneficiary bank. How the fuck am I supposed to know that? Oh hang on I remember now, when I changed email address so I get notification of payment due it told me details with the bank (which it named) would not be altered. So I put their name in which then took me to the next step for credit card number, another phone call to Peter, right now to make payment, request proof of payment and wait for Peter to call to say he'd received SMS confirmation payment had been made.

Now going to have to wait to see if we've just paid ourselves or actually paid the bank.

6 months on

6 months ago today we arrived at OR Tambo to start our new lives in South Africa. You can read about how we came to be here on previous blogs.

'So what's it like?'
'Have you settled?'

Well I still find this a strange sight on the school run.



I've got used to the Robots not working and pleasantly surprised how everyone handles it when they become a 4 way stop...see I'm not calling them traffic lights anymore.

I don't notice this anymore either.



but I'm still amazed that more people don't get killed on the roads daily when they cross the motorway whilst I'm driving at 120kilos...ha not even miles per hour anymore either.

I've stopped converting Rand into Pound, but I haven't stopped saying 'how much?' at the price of some things.

I say Dankie automatically and even reply in English to people when they great me in Afrikaans.

I've stopped saying to the locals 'Pah!!!! call this winter?' and I'm now wrapped up like the rest of them even when it's 18c outside.

We've had loads of visitors and I've done the local sights to death, I can take you to the best place to see what ever African animal you want and know their preferred hiding places and best time of day to see them. I know where the best coffee and souviner shops are and have even found a charity shop to buy books and donate stuff visitors leave behind.

...and I've seen enough of these to last me a lifetime.

Actually I was hoping for a pony.

When I was pregnant every person in the world thought it was right to comment on my pregnancy at any time of their choosing.

'Is this your first?'
'What do you want?'
Well I assume they meant boy or girl, but had much more fun with 'well actually I was hoping for a pony'

Automatic touching of my bump, without seeking approval and on one occassion whilst out, my t shirt was lifted prior to the belly rub.

Then the endless 'horror' stories, labour lasting 3 days, how pain relief doesn't work and even critism for saying you'll have pain relief. 'oh well done you for subjecting yourself to unnecessary pain then forcing the whole story upon us'

Stitches? how many? intimate details and shown 'C'section scars without requesting to see them.

Antenatal classes, birthing partners 'so you're a single mum?' you'll never cope' 'you're too young' the look was enough without the additional comments.

Expert advice 'It's a girl, its all round the front and such a neat bump (3 boys all carried the same)

'Wow 8lb 5oz, you must have been ripped to shreds?'

2nd and 3rd pregnancies just got worse.

'You trying for a girl?' 'one of each would complete your family' 'oh a girl this time...the perfect family'

16 years ago I wasn't given the option to know the sex of my baby and anyway to me that would be like having the gifts unwrapped under the tree all year then acting with fake surprise.

'Oh..another boy, you can always try again'

3rd Pregnancy 'do you want to know the sex this time?'

What ever answer I gave I was a goner

'You must want a girl'
and when I replied 'I'm not fussed...I'd rather have a pony' this was met with 'oh dear, she wants a girl'

So I said 'what happens if I ask and they tell me it's a boy? Do I abort? how do I explain to my other 2 boys that they're not really wanted and I'll just keep on trying till I get a girl?'

So now 12 years on and my boys are 19, 16 and 12 I'm still asked if I regret not having a girl...it wasn't actually a choice I could make and no I don't. So if I say 'no I don't regret it' its greated with those looks and comments that say 'it's too painful to talk about' or if I were to reply 'yes I regret not having a girl' I don't want years of pity for something just to shut them up and make them feel better.

Oh and don't forget the second marriage, we chose not to have children together as between us we had 5, the eldest being a daughter but profoundly disabled...see I can't even get that right, but it still didn't stop the comments of 'but it would make your family complete' and 'hubby could have a second chance of a normal daughter and you the daughter you deserve'

So I guess I'm stuck, but hey I've got one thing to look forward to at least...

I can always hope for granddaughters...and yes that's actually been said to me also.

Arh I just want a routine

I get so excited about things, I write lists, get distracted and rarely complete things till the last minute.

My parents were here for 3 weeks and although we had a fab time I know we all ended up getting on one another's nerves. They like their routine and I felt mine was interrupted. Then they went home on Wednesday, I sighed with relief, I get my routine back....then what did I do for two days?...I slept, I read books, I mopped about feeling a little lost.

I woke up full of energy this morning, with a list of all the things I needed/wanted to do before Peter's mother and sister arrive tomorrow morning. I was off...not dressed...but getting on with it.

'muuuuum' screamed Alex 'there's a flood'

Well bugger me, there goes my day. Water was pouring through the ceiling in the back kitchen. Panic followed, we finally located the stock cock, and I called the agent who sent the plumber round. Well half an hour later, the burst water pipe (frost damage) was repaired, I administered 1st aid as the plumber smacked his head on the roof joist and ripped his trousers and we spent the next 3 hrs mopping, cleaning cupboards and drying electrical items. Food shopping, haircut and car cleaned we returned home to put up curtain rails, repair the sofa, move Dan into the downstairs lounge, make beds, wash and dry towels, have tea and then clean.

I'm knackered now and regretting the two wasted days, but I obviously needed them or I don't think I'd have made it through the day.

And tomorrow, my routine changes again for 2 weeks....but I think ive discovered what my routine is...

...the ability to adapt and change.

Welcome to the other side

I'm here, I'm 40 and not even a single hair sprouting on my face, the grey hairs have been with me for at least a decade now, but who cares?...do I?

I can't believe I'm all grown up, an adult, ffs I have an adult child living in another country from me...I don't look old enough, why thank you, I was 20 and probably wasn't old enough.

I have 2 step children and I discoverd about 4 years ago that people stopped saying (with surprise in their voice) 'oh you don't look old enough' and reality kicks in.

Who gave me all this responsibilty, a career, a family, a husband, (2nd one) and a mortgage, let me sit on the PTA and make decisions about other peoples children, or even worse gave me a job with proper responsibilities Safeguarding other peoples children?

I suppose I should thank the midwife when I had my first child 19 years ago when she said....'I'm going off shift now, ring the bell if you need anything'

Ring the effing bell????? Where's my manual for all of this? It's not just changing a nappy or feeding and settling a crying baby, but what next? what happens now? Oh I see I just get on with it.

And I did.

I've made mistakes, wrong decisions, my kids are all growing up now and don't need me as a Mummy like they used to, they sleep through the night. I'm staying up now, not to make sure they've come home but to check they've locked the bloody door after themselves. I act as a taxi driver, a counsellor, a bank, I administer first aid 'nah, you'll be alright, get on with it' and I have a life....

...I'm just not sure I'll ever be ready for it.

Life of a non working Mother

My day

Alarm 5.30am stay in bed till hubby yells ‘where would you like your tea?

Stand in kitchen, drinking tea

Yell instructions to kids while drinking tea

Hand kids lunch boxes after locating football boots, grey socks, homework

Kids to school via hubby on his way to work

Put washing machine/dish washer on

Jog/Walk/Exercise DVD

Shower

Dress

Breakfast

Twiddle thumbs till 4pm school collection (tweet, blog, shop, clean, drink coffee)

And then everything comes at once and I don’t sit down till 9pm

What's a CRB?

Well yes actually I know what a CRB is. I used to work for the local FA as a Welfare Officer, tasked with reaching 100's of 1'000s of people volunteering in Youth football without any police or club checks. 90% were parents giving up their spare time to support their son/daughter's club from coaching to making teas to sitting on the committee. Not all roles require a CRB for example running the line at a match...you're not left unsupervised and the ref has a CRB (assuming he's over 18) and the two team coaches have CRB's and maybe one or two other parents if they help out...anyway it's a complicated process, helped by volunteer Welfare Officers, one for each club, who provide a list of names of all coaches and adults involved in footall within their club and their CRB status is checked online...

So what happens here in South Africa?...

Well I can't find a link on the school web page or SAFA website, there are Mission Statements and Codes of Conduct, but nothing clearly labelled as 'Child Protection/Welfare'

I was able to host two children over night from a visiting school without so much as filling in a form, mind you the school knew I must've cleared a police check to get my visa in the first place.

I was reading a magazine www.people.co.za in the hairdressers when I came across the 'Find a Pen Friend' page....

I was shocked, I was alarmed, seriously..there was a 12 year old boy wanting a penfriend, he listed his interests, name and email address and the other was a 16 year old girl who left her mobile phone number as a contact...

Can you imagine the uproar in the UK, how the media would react to this or do you think possibly that the UK are overdoing it a bit? after all even with all these people out there and CRB's and Police Checks and Multi agency working, there are still horror stories everyday of paedophiles who slipped the net.

It says E-tags and Cash only

I blogged and tweeted how I felt OUTsurance had let me down with an insurance claim and they decided to review my case and pay out (see previous blog) so I decided to redress the balance and tell you about the time, last month, I had a blow out whilst driving home from Pilanensburg late one evening.

I was with a colleague of Peter's and offered to take him on Safari, Pilanensburg is a 2 hour drive from us, a trip I'd done twice before with the family.

At 8pm in the dark, the rear drivers side tyre blew, I was travelling in the outside lane at 120km/per hour and I reacted well, avoiding the traffic as I came to a halt on the hard shoulder...

My mobile had run out of talk time so using my friends phone I called OUTsurance, typical, being a Danish phone it wouldn't dial a free phone number so I rang Peter with our details, he called OUTsurance who rang me back straight away...

'Where are you?'

'I'm at a toll on the N1 north of Pretoria'

'Are you alone?'

'No, I am with a male friend and the toll booth security people have sent someone to wait with us'

'OK I'll get Premier Tow with you within 33 minutes ma'am, can you tell me your exact location?'

'I'm sorry there's no signs'

'OK, what does it say on the toll sign?'

Honestly I was in hysterics with my answer, so was my friend...

'It says E-tags and Cash Only...does that help?'

The poor guy was laughing ' no ma'am that doesn't help...use your GPS to find out where you are'

So Premier Tow arrive within 33 minutes, park behind me, set up 3 cones by the wheel and starts to change the tyre...

OUTsurance ring me to check he has arrived, text me several times to confirm I am still OK, the toll guy drives off after establishing we weren't really having a picnic as my friend told him when he asked why we were sitting on the bank at this time of night in the dark and my friend has made Precision Tow, move his car back on an angle, put up the warning triangle much further dowen the road and moved the cones where they were more effective.

So thank you OUTsurance for making my breakdown a pleasurable experience.

My letter to OUTsurance

I object to your rejection letter for a claim for a camera and GPS stolen from my vehicle.



I acknowledge there was no visable sign of break in to the vehicle, this is because I was stood at the boot of the vehicle loading shopping when someone entered the car via the front door and removed the items from the centre console. I was not threatened either, but I was informed that if I had the items next to me on a cafe table and someone walked past and picked them up I would have been covered as there may be CCTV to evidence this.

To unlock my boot I am required to press the button twice which then unlocks all the doors. How I am supposed to take any other action to protect the contents of my vehicle when I am stood there?

Are you seriously suggesting that I challenge anyone that wants to take any thing from me and risk having a gun drawn to my head? Should I next time ask the peron who is stealing my personal items if they wouldn't mind smashing the glass next time so I can make a claim?

i don't want to recieve a cut and paste terms and conditions of policy as a standard reply. I would like a full explanation as to what you expect me to do in a situation like this or I cannot see the need for having contents insurance with you.

Living in Utopia...Part Two

There’s been a spate of burglaries in the security estate, an inside job, someone renting a property just to ‘case’ the joint or a member of the golf club...They stole the next door neighbours safe...it was concreted into the wall, they must have brought heavy equipment...we never heard a bloody thing...they broke into one house and stole 1,000s of £££’s of designer clothing, handbags and shoes and 7 other houses. The Home Owner Association sent out regular emails in regards to these ‘incidents’ warning us to take extra security measures.
Two days after my parents arrived, I received another email telling me of another ‘incident’...so popping off to the neighbours house at the end of the street, I discover 3 Protea coin security guards stood outside their house, I enter, there’s a birthday party going on, Alex is there playing pool and being fed, as happens every weekend and the owners are drinking wine. I’m offered a drink, I decline...pleasantries are exchanged, I’ve not met them before...phone numbers swopped...questions about why we are in SA and are we liking it...then...
...I’m told how the maid answered the door at 11am, she was pushed down the stairs, she grabbed the phone, she was hit on the head with the butt of a gun, rolled up in a carpet and held at gun point for 90mins till the burglars had emptied the safes...it took them that long to force them out of the concrete walls and break them open...they stole the keys for the Ferrari and Lamborghini, weren’t able to actually steal them as there was a BMW X5 blocking the way out of the garage (I’m serious)..The maid had kept hold of the phone and hit redial, managing to say what had happened, the owner hearing this call, knew something was wrong, drove 15kms home, he called Estate security on his way, but arrived before security bothered to turn up...the gates hadn’t been closed so the armed robbers were able to get away...the maid was treated in hospital at the expense of the owner and is being taken to trauma counselling...the security firm were replaced the following day for their negligence and the number plate of the vehicle was taken and the police caught them two days later and were able to link them to the other ‘incidents’ that took place...he had obtained/found/bought the magnetic swipe for the estate from a golfing member who has since been banned from the estate for their negligence also...
But what alarms me the most...there was no crime tape, and the owners, although very upset about what had happened to the maid, weren’t upset, not in the way you’d expect them to be in the UK...this would be a major news story, there wasn’t a sign of a media van..just the three additional security guards hired for the rest of the owners life at their own expense...
Do you know what my neighbour said when I told him this, when I explained what the reaction would be in the UK?
Suzanne...This is Africa

Living in Utopia...part one

The house is fantastic, ok it’s costing us a fortune in rent, but we ‘need’ the security and as I can’t work, why not live in a beautiful setting on a 18 hole golf course, where I can go for a walk in complete safety. I ‘need’ the pool (more of a big bath really) and the steam room and all this space...we could never afford this standard of living in the UK and why not?...we may be here forever, we may decide to go home, we may move somewhere else in a few years...who knows?



We live a 10 minute drive from Rietvlei, http://www.rietvlei-reserve.co.za/index.php?loc=rietvlei_game a small game reserve by South African standards, more of a park really, but bigger than Longleat and it’s not manmade, it’s the animal’s natural habitat. There are Lions, Rhinos and Zebras as well as the Sneezy things, as my son named them when he came to visit, seems like they’re all allergic to the grass...think they’re called Spring Boks.





45 Minutes further down the road is Krugersdorp Game Reserve and the Lion Park http://www.sa-venues.com/game-reserves/ga_krugersdorp.htm...we go there on Sunday mornings as that’s when they feed the lions. They have Elands and similar animals that have died of natural causes chained to a post to stop the Lions dragging their food away so the tourists can see and take photos. The Lions are docile after feeding but if they do approach your car you need to keep moving as they have a habit of chewing your tyres and you don’t want to be changing a wheel out there.



Pilanesberg Game reserve http://pilanesberggamereserve.com/index.html is a 2 hour drive away north west of Pretoria, that’s where you get to see all the ‘big 5’
The Elephants were amazing, a herd of approximately 20, stood no further away than the length of a football pitch, unfortunately one of them decided it liked the look of our car and started to approach us on the road...there was nothing we could do...we couldn’t go forwards as the elephant was blocking our view, so we indicated to the car behind to reverse, who indicated to the car behind him, who indicated to the car behind him and so on.....it took ages before we were able to reverse away, to discover that the end car about 7 back was in fact actually a car and not a 4x4 like the rest of us and the road was actually a track full of deep holes and they had trouble getting out...a fair amount of panic from parents but I’m quite calm in these types of situations as is Peter...we had no control over the situation.



Two weeks earlier I spotted a Leopard at dusk and despite the warnings, yes, I sort of got out the car to take a photo and get a better look...good job its mate didn’t sneak up behind me...he was less than 20ft away.


The remaining two animals are the Rhino and Buffalo and I’ve seen them many times, in fact in each park on every occasion in the case of the rhino.





I could get used to this...I am used to this... there’s another weekend ahead and the picnic will be made and the camping stove with tea and coffee facilities will be packed and off we go...

Do you know what my neighbour said when I told him that I’d seen the ‘big 5’ in 3 separate visits within 5 months?...
Suzanne...This is Africa

You haven't changed a bit

I’m 40 on Sunday..so what?...life begins at 40...actually I think that depends what side of 40 one is...lol
‘Oh you don’t look a day over......’ ‘why thank you’...liar...I don’t need to feel better....I have no thoughts of being 40...well maybe I feel a bit of a grown up now, but then I’ve had 3 kids leave home...’oh you don’t look old enough’ I’m not actually...lol
I was asked on twitter this evening if I had any nice plans...and as it happens, Yes, I do...however my family have other ideas, I NEED banners and balloons, a big cake with 40 on it, a nice quiet meal at the golf club and I’ve already had my presents....I bought my own (get what I want that way)
So I’m going to let them put the banners up, I’ll laugh at the ‘old age’ cards, I’ll smile, I’ll stuff my face with cake...

The computer says NO

I’m getting things done, but it takes forever. I’m not South African, I don’t understand the culture, I don’t know the procedures and I’ve got no-one to ask for help from.
I’ve met a couple of people that look like they’re going to be good friends, but I’m too scared I’ll frighten them off. I can’t ask them to take contracts out in their names, I don’t know them well enough or them me, plus I’ll never get a credit history that way.
Also everyone tells me, yes everything takes longer here, but trust me as soon as you produce a non south African ID and a 2 year visitor visa..it stops..that’s it nothing...
Twice now we’ve been refused a mobile phone contract with Vodacom and so far no one will tell us why, just not enough paperwork...WTF? tell me what additional paperwork I need and I’ll bloody well go and get it..FFS
Complain, told to call customer Services who promptly tell me the store has the info...
So if anyone has any advice or is a non south African on a 2 year visa and has a mobile phone contract please get in touch and let me know how

Car tax/Vehicle licence disc

‘You need to bring your car in for an AA pre sale safety check’ or something like that...’OK’
In the meantime I’m trying to renew my yearly little disc that goes in the front window of the car, I assume it’s the same as the car tax in the UK but costs far less than the UK and it’s renewed every year.
So I go to the post office, explain, get given form and that’s that....
Return with form complete..VIN number required plus loads of other stuff I don’t understand, ask at the local cafe, ask the garage, ask the neighbour..but I don’t have a form like that, where do I get that info from..return with forms and cash (they don’t take card payments) verified copy of Peters passport, stamped and in triplicate (I’m learning fast)..but the passport number didn’t fit the ID box so turned away...’we need more info’...someone anyone please tell me what info
Contact the garage...we don’t have the paperwork from the bank about the loan we took out for part payment of the car....’oh that’s cos your husband has only just provided us with the paperwork to prove he’s eligible to buy a car’ yeah 3 months after you sold us the bloody thing and no one told us, so garage hand over bank paperwork.
Then there’s something about a safety check certificate..arhhh suddenly making sense now.
So I arrive at the garage on Friday, I ask to speak to the manager, I explain what has happened, how cross I am, that they let me take a vehicle without the correct safety checks and documentation and they take the car to The AA for the checks, the paperwork and the tax thingy and call me today to tell me the disc the paperwork etc etc is waiting for me to collect them first thing in the morning.

Life can be quite boring sometimes

My day
Alarm 5.30am stay in bed till hubby yells ‘where would you like your tea?
Stand in kitchen, drinking tea
Yell instructions to kids while drinking tea
Hand kids lunch boxes after locating football boots, grey socks, homework
Kids to school via hubby on his way to work
Put washing machine/dish washer on
Jog/Walk/Exercise DVD
Shower
Dress
Breakfast
Twiddle thumbs till 4pm school collection (tweet, blog, shop, clean, drink coffee)
And then everything comes at once and I don’t sit down till 9pm

It’s all coming together

Can’t say too much but things here are going to get better.
Company will help with mobiles...won’t pay it or take it out in their name but can act as guarantor to enable us to get contracts. I’ve had a chance to off load which makes me feel better...The word sorry really does help.
But 2 weeks on..nothing has happened....ok I need to find out what Vodacom actually want from us, they’ve had all the documents they’ve requested and I even offered to take a vial of the kids blood in with me. Also all the ‘other stuff’ that we raised was going to be investigated so going to have to chase that up.
SAFA’s local office were refusing to register Dan as he is a foreigner, I asked for an explanation and as some of you know I ‘KNOW’ my stuff when it comes to football and Child Welfare. I was shouted at...I was told ‘I’m not registering him as I don’t like you’ OK mate you’ll like me even less in a minute. I called SAFA, they emailed the info I needed, I gave it to TUK’s, who were very grateful for my intervention and I informed SAFA if I don’t get either a) my son registered to play non league football or b) a full and legal explanation I shall be going to FIFA and both the English and South African Media with my story of discrimination.
2 weeks ago we also finally got a refund for a dining room table we bought that they failed to deliver, it took 4 weeks again of threats of legal action before the money was refunded...but the biggest shock came when I ordered and paid for a table the same day and it was delivered only half hour late 3 days later...what then followed was storms and freezing weather....it was retribution...lol..everyone here I’ve told has said that is ‘unheard of’
The medical aid is now sorted...tah dah...however we’re nearly at our self payment gap as we weren’t told that if we’d kept Dan in hospital overnight, all the scans and xrays wouldn’t have been charged to our account...ffs..I’ve managed the dentists so far but still have to register with a Doctor and it’s not as easy as it sounds.
I’ve been promised a change to my visa, I’ve found a really good charity shop near by, I’ve made friends with a woman from Peters work, I’ve met the daughter of a bloke my father used to work with when he was over here and I’m off for coffee/wine at the neighbours house next week...
...but this will only all get done, if I keep nagging, threatening, making an effort, contacting, getting out there, researching, pushing...but I’m bloody good at stuff like that...I’ve got us this far after all....lol

Why would you do that to me?

I’ve got no problem with anyone looking at any photos I post on the internet. I am aware how it all works, they get retweeted, downloaded, printed out...I lose the ownership of it etc etc and I CBA to put a watermark or a line through them...but I do have a problem and this is it...
...if I don’t like you on twitter I can block you, If I don’t like you on facebook I can unfriend you...others wouldn’t know unless I tell them...but when you know I don’t get on with someone or you are aware there have been some serious difficulties with another person why would you show them my pictures, my tweets, my status updates...why would you do that?

I CBA any more

I’ve moaned and groaned about the post here, or rather the lack of it...I know we chose to leave the UK...but I’ve made more than an effort. I wrote/printed out 52 round robin letters and personalised each and every one of them...and what? Approximately 15 replies.
The internet is wonderful, lots of people are enjoying my photos and updates on facebook, when asked, but they’re not commenting or clicking ‘like’ so how the hell am I supposed to know.....some feedback is...’it’s great hearing what Suzanne is up to, but we're not doing anything of interest to tell her.
That’s not the point.....2 aunts have written a few lines to say...’we lead boring lives and have nothing to tell you’ but it was great to have the letter in the box and was an excellent prompt for me to write back.
I reply to each and every letter I receive...but from now on, unless we chat daily on twitter or you write/email/like on facebook I shan’t be bothering...so don’t be surprised if you don’t hear from me...
...guess what?...I can’t be arsed either.

Soweto

Driving past Soweto (South West Township)...WTF? I blogged before about how weird the school run is when I follow signs home to Johannesburg, still struggling to get my head round it...I used to spend my evenings at Saltleys, Old Sihillians and Wast Hills training ground while Daniel trained with Birmingham City, now I sit in a car park at Pretoria University in the evenings, reading my book, tweeting and using my little stove to brew cups of tea, same shit, different car parks...but this time instead of following the M5 into Worcestershire and off at Junction 7 to Malvern its the N1 south to Jo’burg..Dan and I struggle to get our heads round it.

On Monday Dan is off on a school trip to Soweto, the letter home read and I quote ‘If I did not think this place was safe, I would not be taking your child there. In all the years I have taken students on a history trip to Soweto, there’s has not been a single incident where a child has been harmed’...
I am NOT alarmed, I signed the form.

We drove past Soweto a few weeks ago to go to Heaven on Vaal for a works outing. We were told DO NOT follow the GPS as it takes you through Jo’burg and Soweto itself. So we did as we were told and drove along side Soweto on the N1 south. I was apprehensive, the closer we got the more dangers there were, but these came from dogs sauntering across the road and people, people crossing the 3 lanes of traffic, standing on the white lines of the outside lane waiting for cars at 120km/hr to pass. We narrowly missed a dog and a car that swerved violently to avoid a cow...the N1 is equivalent to a UK motorway.

We’ve passed many townships and even drove through one in Rustenburg on our way back from Sun City, don’t trust the GPS here. But Soweto is huge, it stretches for miles..the iconic landmarks of the World Cup remain the concrete towers highly decorated.

It saddens me to see people live like this and it’s not through choices they’ve made. In the UK a homeless person has the option of help and rehabilitation and are usually homeless through choices they’ve made...good or bad...but here, it’s all so different....the townships look like allotments, patches of lad with a small shed sized building with a tin roof, goats and chickens, rubbish piled up everywhere, some have electricity and sanitation, others nothing.

You see patches of the Highveld mowed and kids barefoot playing football, women carrying bags of food, clothing on their heads and everywhere you look people are busy, doing something, fixing roofs, tending the land, returning from work or from looking for work.

The robots are out in Bryanston

He robots* are out in Bryanston, that’s what we hear nearly every day on the travel news on Highveld 94.7fm, it’s quite often the only piece of travel news, and all is well in the world.....

You see when the robots are out it’s due to a power cut or more likely cable or transformer theft.

Power cuts are often and many and last for days even a week on one occasion. We have a generator at our property, it fires up once a week to check itself and the floors vibrate but it’s proven to be invaluable. You can’t hear the TV over it. After making many requests for operating instructions and how and when to refuel we finally have an answer we’re happy with...the first suggestion was I put my hand in the tank and guessed how much diesel there was as there as there isn’t a gauge, but we’ve since been informed that it transmits a message to the contractor who comes out and refuels when needed.

Enough of the generator, back to the power cuts...2 days before U2 played at the Coca Cola dome in Jo’burg, a team of people climbed down a man hole and stripped the stadium bare of its electricity cables. In March a nearby transformer was stolen and power wasn’t restored for over a week, this was due to the fact that the transformer had to be ordered and made in Cape Town. They prioritised the return of power, most houses had power returned within 24 hours by tapping into another transformer, businesses after that and the robots were the last to be turned on over a week later.

At the moment there are major roadwork’s off the N1 junction with the M18 Botha Ave and workmen have severed the electricity supply, the robots now work as a 4 way stop system and everyone is very good at taking turns.

Can you imagine the horror in the UK, the stories in the media of the plight of the British and individual stories of ‘human suffering’ (tongue in cheek) they just get on with it here; they still complain but most just accept it.

*Robots=Traffic Lights

Recycling

Recycling in the UK is everywhere...black wheelie bins like ornaments on the drive, different coloured bins or bags for paper, plastics, garden waste and glass....recycling bins in supermarket car parks and shopping centres and bins for drinks bottles and paper waste in high streets and festival grounds and heavy fines for disobeying.

Here in South Africa it’s a different story...the security estate we live in has black wheelie bins collected every Tuesday, they don’t mind if the lid is open or bags are piled up by the side and they don’t fine you if you put garden waste in or plastic bottles, it’s a private company and gets taken to landfill. There’s also a paper collection that you put out in orange bags on the 2nd and 4th Friday of the month and that’s about it, although I’ve heard rumours of a plastics collection but I haven’t sussed out what day yet.

Pick ‘n’ Pay hyper markets have a row of coloured wheelie bins inside the main door and a few of the smaller shops collect batteries and ink cartridges but they are hard to find.

I use PLANTLAND, a chain of garden centres; the one in Irene, nr Centurion has a collection of coloured oil drums for items for recycling. It is collected by a local charity and sold with the money raised going to the Mentally Handicapped (yep, still called that here and not Learning Disabled). The other option is to hand any bottles to the men that stand at the robots at the Atterbury Junction near Menlyn off the N1, as they collect rubbish in exchange for a small donation (20p or so) and they sell the plastic on.

How to be the perfect guest

Remember your host is NOT on holiday

Pay your way, buy coffees and insist on taking everyone out for a meal at least once

Don't buy your own goodies and hide them in your room, remember you're eating the food they paid for

Don't take the last, or use the last of anything

If your host offers toast and cereals for breakfast, don't go asking for a bacon sandwich

If you have food preferences or allergies it is YOUR responsibility to inform your host BEFORE you arrive

If you detect tension, take your book to your room, walk their dog (if they have one) or the kids to the park

Allow your hosts a bit of space, remember one or both may still be going to work daily and running around after kids etc, again you're on holiday their not

Tidy up after yourself, your host ISN'T your Mother and even if she is, you've left home now

He holds my hand

I've been depressed...I moved to the other side of the world...so what did you expect to hear?...I felt I had nothing to give and wasn't needed...my husband threw himself into his new job, new people, new opportunities and new places to travel, Cape Town in the 3rd week we were here and Europe and back to the UK within 3 months...the kids started school 48hrs after we arrived and joined all the sports teams and made friends really quickly, especially with their 'English' accents...

...and me?...I should be happy that I raised 2 kids that can cope with anything tha is thrown at them, 2 kids that apart from saying the goodbyes and a few tears for their Dad, family and friends in the UK, 2 kids that took to living in a new country like a duck to water...I am proud, I proud of the way they handled it all, I'm proud of the children, all grown up now that didn't come with us...and I'm proud of my husband for being offered such a wonderful position within his company...

But I've been down, miserable, depressed and when that happens I get angry, I push those nearest and dearest to me away...and it's made me realise how much my husband 'puts up' with me...or his words...'how much he loves me'

It's not just been moving here that's caused the depression, it's happened many a time when life has just been over whelming, this time it was losing my identity, who I was, what I did and how I did things, it wasn't just a move it was a whole new way of living. In the past it was triggered by being a single mum, getting married and then divorced, going through my husbands divorce with him, which just has to be the messiest thing I've ever seen and lasted for 3 years, (we were both seperated when we met)...

...and yet? I've never sought medical intervention, I've never given in to it...I've cried, I've screamed, I've run away, I've contemplated all sorts of things...thought about suicide, not actually doing it, but how it would affect my husband and my children, thought about a new identity...but would that be worse on the kids and my husband? the not knowing?

...it's that moment when you stand on a bridge, car keys in hand, sunglasses on your head and you lean over and at the last second you remember your sunglasses and grab them, but now you have your keys in your hand and you wonder what would happen if you just let go of them?...you know the inconvienence it would cause, you know the trouble you'd be in, you'd know the disapproving looks your partner would give you...so you don't do it...

...but when faced with that moment what do you do?...well i tell my husband, my friend, my confident, I tell him I'm unhappy, I tell him I'm hurting...

...and he takes the car keys from my hand and the sunglasses off the top of my head and he lets me lean over the bridge, holding my hand...and he keeps me safe.

how much more?

Are you a giver or a taker?

I'm a giver...not just of gifts, money or time...but of myself....

I'm a yes person, 'if you want something done ask a busy person' if I want something done, I do it myself.

Sometimes my thoughts and actions hurt people, but I am aware of this and I always do my best to rectify the problem, even when my thoughts and actions come about after reaching the stage of having had enough of the other person or situation...

What am I then?...Well, I always say yes, but then they want it done all on their terms and if I offer a suggestion it's wrong, interferring or worse I'm showing off, showing them up for their inadequecies...WTF? I can't do right for doing wrong...

There comes a time when I have to stop giving...I'm tired, I'm hurting...and if I complain then I'm a selfish, sensitive cow...

Anyone else find themselves hitting their head against a brick wall?

Sorry goes a long way

I've been up since 3am this morning, you know how it is?...your head is spinning...

So I got up...I'm not angry, I'm disappointed, we made so much effort prior to moving to South Africa to ensure that when we got here, the UK side of things would run itself and the bits we'd put into place would ensure a smooth transistion...we were wrong.

The bank let us down, the agent let us down, the removal firm let us down, the electric and gas company let us down, the insurance companies let us down and certain people let us down...

It was difficult to get hold of these people, get them to reply to emails, an automated response was easy enough 'we will reply to your email in the next two working days' in most cases I had to re email them to remind them, spend a fortune on hold or listening to music at a UK call centre (probably cheaper if I'd just called India direct)

I notified ALL the UK companies of our move to South Africa and requested all urgent communication was made via email. I have an acknowledgement letter or email off each and every one...

So what happens?

Threats of Court Orders and bailiffs, (for small sums of money in total no more than £300) lost furniture, cancelled bank cards...you name it we've had it and as a result I now have had to inform EVERYONE of change of address (again)...

And not one person or company has said 'sorry'

More Stress

When was the last time you bought a tyre?
How much did it cost?
Where did you buy it from?

Easy task, you've either answered a) it's a company car and I just booked it in the dealers, b) you can think for a few minutes c) don't have a car or d) my other half sorts those things out.

Last place I bought tyres from was near the fire station in Droitwich, cost £75 ish each.

So you pick up the phone directory, search for tyres or tires, look for the nearest garage to you, call round a few more to get a competitive price, maybe go in same day or they have to order them in for you...still with me...or you ask a colleague at work, a neighbour, your Dad...

What do you do when you don't know anyone?...a quick search on the internet tells me there are places near me, still struggling with accents, so visit in person...it appears there's no such thing as buying power here in South Africa, all tyres are the same price plus or minus R50-R100...

'Yep we can do that for you ma'am' 'how effing much?' 'R2000 if you want one today or R1,500 if you don't mind waiting a day or two'...wish me luck.

I've gone with the R1,500, refused to pay for it until it is fitted and now will wait for the phone to ring, maybe tomorrow, maybe sometime next week, maybe never...

You can't make this up

On Thursday I took a colleague of Peter's on Safari...we invited him to stay at our house while he was here with work. He's a good friend of Peters but I'd only met him the once in 2007.

We set off at 7am for a 2 hour journey to Pilensburg, we passed Sun City and got slightly lost, drove through a township and stopped for a document and vehicle check by the police..I asked 'why' they replied 'because we asked' 'OK' I explained I was English and would like this exp;aining and they were very helpful and polite and after checking our documents they gave us directions for the game reserve.

We had a good day, dfriving round the reserve looking for the elephants...I personally am of a mind that the elephants are either a) not real or b) 2ft tall and hidden in the grass...
but we did see Rhinos, Zebras, Giraffes and the best of all a Leopard.






We saw the majority of animals towards the end of the day as the sun was setting and they made their way towards the watering holes...the Leopard was just standing in the middle of the road, we were craning our necks looking for the elephants, it hung around long enough for us to lean out the car and take photos.

So slightly behind schedule we began our journey home...the gate ws locked we were no more than 10 minutes late..security indicated for us to step out of the car to inform us that they had no key, no radio and no mobile phone and we would just have to sit and wait till someone/anyone arrived...not impressed, there were wild dogs nearby plus you know lions etc...we sat, we waited, we laughed, we called home...'no really, we didn't do it on purpose'

35 mins later we were on our way home, 2 hours in the dark, the first part of the journey I was apprehesive, driving through built up areas on a singletrack road, but then we reached the N4 and I relaxed...N1....27kms to go, Peter is reheating tea..my guest informs me the car sounds a little funny and bang, at 120kms per hour in the outside of 3 lanes, my tyre blows, a controlled stop on the hard shoulder. The car stops we get out and quickly climb the barrier...the traffic is very fast...there's a break in the traffic so we grab food, blanket, personal items. We're near a toll booth, can't get through to OUTsurance so call Peter to explain...he sighs...and a few minutes later they call back.

'where are you Ma,am?'
'ermmmm I don't know,GPS says 27km north of home on N1 just past the 'What does it say on the toll Ma'am?'
I'm not a lot of use at this point and reply 'E Tag and Cash Only'
They finally establish where we are and reply 'a vehicle will be with you in 33 minutes'

We sit on the grass, the toll booth security check on us, OUTsurance call us, the tow truck company call to confirm they are on their way....

...and 17 hours after we set off, we arrive back home....still speaking, thankfully.

Oi...it's my car

It's my car
If I want things hanging from the mirror...what's it got to do with you?
It's not crap filling every compartment...it's my stuff
If I want the radio reprogramming...I'll do it
No I'm not too hot/cold...I've set the temperature like that for a reason
What rattle/noise...it's not interfering with my driving
How many times?...if you push the cigarette lighter in to hard, it will pop out, roll under your seat and I'll have to pull over to find it
Go drive your own car

It's not hot here

When I woke yesterday, there was a ground frost, all the neighbours have wrapped their shrubs, so I guess winter is here.

We've got underfloor heating and the air con has temperature settings up to 30c, but like most families it has to be sub zero for several months before my husband puts the heating on...it's not because he's from 'op north' and hardy, it's because he's from 'op north' and bloody tight.

So the winter duvets are on and the kids have extra blankets, the fluffy socks are out and being worn in bed.

The temperature in the evenings, after sun down are between 4 & 11c, in the day, although its autumn it actually feels like spring to me, there are flowers out and the tepmerature in the day rises into the mid 20c.

Several light layers of clothing are required, which are peeled off as the day goes on. I wear my winter boots in the morning and by the afternoon I change into sandals...

It's too chillyfor the pool now, but I'm still using the steam room.

We left the UK with a covering of snow on the ground. We had a proper white christmas spent in the Cotswolds with 8inches of snow and the temperature hadn't risen above freezing for several weeks.

We arrived in South Africa in the middle of summer with temperatures in the mid 30s.

When the weather starting to get chilly here, I was asked 'aren't you cold?' well no I wasn't, the people asking the question are wrapped up in hats, scarves and gloves, while I was peeling my cardi off...the kids are getting told off in school for not wearing their jumpers in the day as they are both too hot, while their class mates keeps their scarves on, cuddle their hot water bottles and sip hot drinks from their flask.....

I wonder how long it will be before we complain of being cold?

Now, it's cold now, the under floor heating doesn't work, we bought coal and chopped down a tree in the garden

Do you ask people how they met?

Is it a conversation opener?...are they really interested, am I just plain rude when I don't ask them how they met?...or are they just bloody amazed that we are a couple and wondering how the hell those two people could ever meet?

...and then sound surprised that it's been 'that long' and we're actually married...

I'd love to hear your thoughts on it...

BTW Yes he's older than me and I was the baby sitter *exits stage right to leave you pondering on this one*

Is it ever too much???????

We live almost in the middle of the security estate, the permimeter is 7km and we're a 2km drive from the main gate.

The main gate has swipe operated booms, security guards and CCTV. All visitors MUST enter and leave by the main gates...we have to call down to security, give them our name, address and a 5 digit PIN to identify ourselves, inform them eta and name of visitor...the visitor is given a plastic card, which the must hand back in when they leave.

The back gate is for residents only, we have a magnetic swipe key we use to operate the booms, there are armed guards and the back gates are locked every night at 6pm.

The estate has 24hr armed security, patrol cars and dogs...we pay a premium to live her, at least R7,000 (£650) per month extra compared to a similar property outside the estate...but we're safe...

It's quite a big deal to pack your family up and move to the other side of the world...and South Africa isn't exactally the safest of places to live...we're in Centurion approx 25 miles from Johannesburg and 10 miles from the capital Pretoria...you've all heard the stories of murder, car jacking etc...it DOES happen, so while we're adjusting to our new lives, we may as well be as safe as we can...

and yet...there have been several break ins at the security estate where we live. TV's, laptops, mobile phones etc have been taken...4 houses so far in our street, maybe 9 in total in the past 2 weeks...they think it's an inside job...bored, rich teens with a drug habit to feed...who knows?...

all I do know is, I listen to the news on the TV and Radio and I'm grateful for the premium...2 weeks ago a man was held at knife point in his own home, he was skyping with his son in NZ, who immediately called the SA Police...there was a gun fight...yes, the robbers stole a gun from the mans house and were taking pot shots at the police, in broad daylight, near a shopping centre outside the library, where I go twice a week, one robber was shot dead, no one else injured...then there was the cop firing out of a helicopter at a stolen car...

I've tweeted with people in the UK from South Africa who think I'm stir crazy for moving here and then people over here that have blocked me on twitter as they think I'm slagging this beautiful country off...I'm not I'm just telling it as it is...