Just love the ditherers already

I was at the vet the other day with one of our fur babies.

If you are ever in need of a way to deplete your funds, get a fur baby and a caring vet who says things like ‘this is the expensive route, but probably necessary’.

Anyway… While I was sitting there waiting for the final bill and hoping the markets and my savings don’t plummet again because I need every cent to deal with the latest elderly pet challenge, I witnessed the behaviors of two completely different women.

The first was completely in charge. You know the type. The woman who wrestles the wheel from Jesus and mutters ‘Just let me do it’. Looking around, slightly impatient and mildly irritated that not everyone is as efficient and organized as she is. Her pet effectively treated and back in its little box she has a firm grip on. Get a move on, she’s got shit to do. And it’s important.

The second is a ditherer. She emerges from a room with her completely out of control pet who is desperate to exit the vicinity and is dragging her along the floor to the door.

She vaguely realizes she probably needs to do something before she can leave, but is not quite sure what it is.

And then… Kindness.

Mrs Efficient, puts the boxed cat on the chair, controls the hysterical dog, gently leads the lady to the reception… Tells her to go first, she can wait..

And that people, is how it should be. If you can help, help. Choose kindness. Made my day.

If it’s not too much to ask

Sunday lunch was lentils.

Because that’s how my lovely man likes it. He was very excited to have his special lentil dish on the menu.

I had a small bowl and got the side eye. How long is it going to last if other people are eating it I could see him thinking. Can’t you just have a biscuit?

He’s like that with his chocolate cake too. Not everything is to be shared.

A deep sigh of contentment on completion of his meal. Courtesy of his sister.

I think, he pondered, we could try and make this once a month.

It’s the only way I can see myself coping he ended with finality.

The only way…

Thank you, I know

I share my Google location with a few friends and family. This seems a smart thing to do if you drive long distances.

There is something very comforting having people who care for you track your progress.

But I have one friend…. Bless him. Love him. There’s always one…

This friend thoughtfully sends me screen shots of where I am the whole journey. Coz, you know, to make sure I know.

And, of course, using up my limited data the whole journey. Screenshot after screenshot of my location. Where I actually am.

Love him. Grateful for the thoughtfulness.

This same friend travels a bit himself. And when he does, he likes to send me a photograph of his view. Repeatedly. The same view. Day after day.

It’s like I’ve been to all these places. I know them intimately. Well, the view at least.

Yes, I’m Generation X. Y?

I have reached the age of irrelevance. Alarming and somewhat depressing.

I’m in SA. Shopping is necessary. I’m a bit of a gadget lover. Can’t resist a new gadget.

So, pushing my little trolley of already purchased this and that, I entered a gadget shop and asked the fellow if he had stock of what I was looking for.

Is it for your child, or perhaps your grandchild he smirked. Did you bring them?

I looked at this twit… Probably in his mid 40’s…not too long ago I was dating his ilk, probably younger. This one, I would have crushed like a bug.

It’s for me, I announced, I’m more competent than I clearly look. And! I have money to spend.. Which I will be spending elsewhere.

My comment and stalking away may have been more withering if I hadn’t forgotten my trolley behind.

Gotta be love

I am languishing in Beiradise currently while my lovely man holds the fort in Harare.

Darling, he enquired… Alfie is licking his knob a lot and it looks dry and sore. Any ideas on what could help?

Oh no! I cried. My poor little boy pup.

I had many suggestions… None of which would have been appreciated.

I settled on..

Try coconut oil. You may have to apply it a few times a day.

Good grief he moaned. How much longer before you are back?

Oops, I didn’t hear you

My lovely man can’t hear when I let off a quietish fart.

This has been a fairly liberating revalation.

There are few advantages to having a hard of hearing lovely man. This has to be the biggest.

I’m not a fan of farting. You know, us ladies just don’t. Or we don’t admit to it. And I really don’t appreciate it when others fart near me.

But the truth is we all break wind. Apparently 10 to 20 times a day.

And then… You know, he feeds me lentils regularly. It’s not easy people.

So, I’ve become a bit too casual about the whole thing.

As it turns out, my sister-in-law is not hard of hearing.