Mr Fernando is the caretaker (I guess), of the building my little office is in. Very pleasant fellow, carries my bag in for me, helps me open up etc. Up until yesterday when my office door was fixed by a carpenter, it was quite an effort to open it. A solid bashing with my hip if I was in company, and a even more solid rear ending if I was alone. More effective, much less delicate. Anyway, those days are behind me and the door now swings open effortlessly. Mr Fernando does not speak any English and I, we are well aware, am useless. This does not stop Mr Fernando bonding with me. My interjections of ‘Nao falo Portugues’ literally fall on deaf ears. The man has a lot of shit to get off his chest I suspect. I have decided it is just polite to smile and nod. It did occur to me this morning after our monologue that I am be agreeing to things I am oblivious to. A very satisfied smile was bestowed on me before Mr Fernando wandered off to attend to his duties. I suspect we are either 1) betrothed, 2) he is now in my employment or 3) I have agreed to include him in my will.
All frothed up
‘Darling’ , my lovely man advised, ‘I’m not getting much of a froth on your cappacino of late, do you think there is something wrong with the milk?’
I had noticed this deterioration in quality, but I’m not one to complain as you well know.
Maybe, the frother is not being rinsed out properly I suggested. Perhaps there are remnants of sunlight liquid left, which are affecting the milk.
Unlikely he advised, I don’t use sunlight liquid, I just give it a little twirl under the cold tap, it’s only milk. Sometimes I use that little sponge, but it’s become a bit mingy.
Dear God, clearly I’ve got the constitution of a shire horse that I’ve not yet perished.
Anyway, if we invite you around for cappacino, perhaps bring your own.
I can’t hear you
Do you have a lady in your car system that tells you how to get to places and also reads your messages out to you?
Isn’t she marvelous?
Ours is Doris… And either she is Scottish and can’t understand my accent, or she thinks I’m Scottish.
After she’s read out my message to me, she very politely asks me..
‘Do you want to reply?’
Then we start…
If she does hear my ‘yes’ and asks me what the message is.. She likes to put her own spin on things in the response.
As a result, my friends, family and associates all think I’m an illiterate half wit.
She is, unfortunately, incapable of hearing the word ‘No’ which I yell out if I don’t want to reply.
‘Do you want to reply to that’
‘No thank you’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t get that’
‘NO’
‘I’m sorry, do you want to reply to that?’
‘NO‘
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t get that’
‘Oh, stuff off’
OK, it’s sent
Just ring if you need me
My lovely man did himself an injury. He is back home, after a few days in hospital. Where, truth be told, he was wonderfully looked after and.. surprise, the food was fabulous. I was concerned, at some point, that he may opt to stay in hospital because the food standard exceeds what he gets at home.
But, he chose home, or they instructed him to leave… and for that I am grateful.
He now has some weeks/months of recovery ahead of him and will require help for quite a lot of things. Cue Old Flo Nightingale.
He’s a real toughie my lovely man. Not at all a whinger. High pain threshold. I am the complete opposite. Whinger supreme and I skipped the pain threshold handout queue.
Of course, unless it’s me doing the whinging, it’s not allowed.
There has been much banter between us where he is insisting he is not going to need help , he’ll be OK, (he does need help), and me telling him that he must ask and not over do things or he is going to take longer to heal.
So, back from the hospital I helped him to bed (hospitals are not restful places, what’s with that?)
Just as I was about to emphasise again that he must PLEASE not do anything that he needs help with he said…
“You know what you should bring me… that little brass dinner bell.. then I can just ring it if I need you”
Guess he’s getting the hang of this.
A little misunderstanding
We had cause, recently, to spend some time in a hospital emergency area. (All is well).
They were very busy.. We had quite a wait.. I may, or may not have got a bit sassy in my negotiations for assistance.
A nurse popped in and said ‘I’m so sorry that your dad is having to wait so long, we are doing the best we can’
My lovely man didn’t hear her, we left the house in a hurry and his ears were not attached. Not a priority at the time.
I didn’t correct her, yaaay for me and my youthful glow and my lovely man was in pain and not looking his best.
Time passed.. I went looking for help.. Again.
When I came back my lovely man said…. ‘A lady just came in and apologized that she thought you were my doctor, why would she think you were my doctor, must be because you are bossing everyone around’
Love him the most.
Leave me alone, I’m relaxing
What do you do to relax?
When I hear of people tuning into live feeds of wildlife watering holes, or fat bear week, I don’t feel too bad admitting I like to watch ASMR videos.
Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response. It’s a thing, I promise.
My lovely man will ask me what I’m doing and I’ve tried to explain… But he don’t get it… So I just say I’m meditating. I’m sure he thinks I’m addicted to porn.
I’ve written a list of things I’d like to do if I ever get to retire. And watching more ASMR is on the list.
I have my favourites that I subscribe to… As you do of course.
Actually it’s something you can experience in real life. For example…. If you watch people cleaning or dusting… You could experience a very relaxing, tingling sensation.
That’s ASMR.
We have a cleaning lady.. But I am yet to find the courage to ask her if I can sit and stare at her as she’s cleaning the room.
Anyway…. I recently searched for ‘ASMR dusting’ … And came across a gem.
The room that was being cleaned must have been something out of the 1950’s. Filthy and full of bric a brac. If someone had asked me to clean it while they videoed me, I would most likely have thrown a match at it and gone home.
But… It was perfect to watch.
She put her marigolds on and got stuck in.
The wooden furniture was so dry, as she sprayed the polish, you could see it sucking the droplets out of the air.
Lampshades that had obviously never been dusted. Marvelous.
And an enormous array of ceramic cocks. Was this a thing in the 50’s? Must have been a special on. Glorious things to watch being dusted.
I’ve just realised I should have used the word rooster.
Where does it hurt?
I had to see a chiropractor recently.
I’m a great fan of chiropractors, not as husbands, but that could just be me.
This one was a lady. I’m not sure what she identifies as, but as her husband was the office manager, she was unlikely to propose.
If she had… I would have had to decline. You know… Fool me once….
Any hooo… She asked me some questions re pain and I proudly advised that I has an extensive home gym.
Occasionally used…
I expanded on my rebounding WHILE using my punch bag.
She was suitably impressed.
Then I admitted that I has hurt my back doing this (not sure I’m any contender for the UFC).
Oh, she said.. How long do you bounce and box for?
Well… Now I had to lie… Because no matter how much you roll it out, 3 1/2 minutes just doesn’t sound sports injury inducing does it?
I’m not sure I replied, time became a blur. I think the clock ran out.
Of course she said… It’s probably the simultaneous twisting and bouncing that did it. Maybe do them separately.
Pathetic, I realized… She knows I’m pathetic.
I’ve gotta go back next week.
Let’s not do that
Do you belong to chat groups?
Most of us do, surely?
I have a problem leaving chat groups. I feel it’s rude. I agonise over how to explain my exiting. So.. I mute, don’t contribute and regularly clear the chats. And hope I’m never confronted with ‘but we were all advised on the chat group’.
But now I feel I need to pay more attention.
Because, as it turns out, the chances of being included on some ‘War Room’ chat are slim… But not impossible.
So… Stay vigilant peeps… You could influence world events with your input.
Oh, and put spell check on maybe.
I’m as surprised as you are
Apparently there’s some summit happening in Johannesburg in the not too distant future.
With an all you can eat buffet I understand.
So, the SA President decided he’d better mosey along to see if the city of gold is prepared.
He was surprised to find the place is a shambles.
Anybody else could have told him this… Coz you know.. Everyone knows.
So, there were some stern words to get their shit together we read.
As with anything that gets tended to in Africa, it will only be nice and shiny where any of the summit delegates may venture. But hey, shiny is shiny.
Not 5 minutes after reading that the big boss is surprised and disappointed an email lands in my inbox.
The City of Johannesburg writes to little old me, that I owe them R125 for a traffic violation in 2012.
I was surprised. I’ve been in the dark on this matter.
I left the city in 2013 and I think by then, none of the traffic cameras were working in Johannesburg.
This was, most likely, this camera’s last gasp.
But hey…. That R125 is going to make all the difference.
So… There is evidence that they are indeed getting their shit together.
I’m a little sorry they had to start with me.
That sounds worth having
I am, unfortunately for my wallet, a marketer’s dream.
You’ve heard of influencers? I’m not that. I’m easily influenced.
If someone recommends or gushes about something, I’m compelled to fit it into my world.
My lovely man tries to distract me when he can see on my face I am buying into something someone is mentioning. Actually a gush or a recommendation is not required. Just a casual passing remark will do.
I once bought an enormously expensive thing because a lady I sat next to at the departure lounge stated ‘it has changed my mother’s life’.
That statement will do it.
My latest is home gym equipment. We may, in fact, need a bigger house.
So far, my home gym equipment has not made me in any way fit, but I have no regrets.
Everything I order requires assembling. We are no good at this.
Luckily our neighbour is very handy. He is making a tidy living out of assembling my orders.
He has a cctv camera that views the road.
We have reached the point of…
‘I see you have had a delivery, do you need help’
He has also gently requested..
‘perhaps don’t try and assemble it, it takes me longer to take it apart and start again’