Those Comrades are Crazy

They are running the Comrades Marathon between Pietermaritzburg and Durban today. For the first time since the start of Covid. So, I think they have missed two years.

Which is a pity really because I was ready to compete last year.

Only kidding. If I run for any length of time my rubbing thighs are likely to set my fanny on fire.

Many years ago I attended a motivational talk by an accomplished woman comrades runner. She was extraordinary. I was, however dismayed to see that she had cellulite.

It seems terribly unfair that you are capable of running 90 km and are STILL cursed with cellulite.

I blame that for putting my running career to an end before it even started really.

We have braved our little porta pool this Sunday. Cellulite and all. In between oohing and aaahing at those extraordinary runners. Yes, we are not wealthy enough to put in a real pool, but I do love bobbing around in my porta pool.

The weather is lovely, but the (green) water is only 16 degrees Celsius. However, I insisted it is warm enough and we MUST get in. We are in autumn here, for what it’s worth.

To balance things out, my lovely man is serving us lentils for lunch.

It’s all falling apart really – My Lovely Man

Good health.  It seems to be the luck of the draw really.  Or can we all expect to fall apart when we get on a bit.

We are on the phone to the dentist again pleading for an appointment because my lovely man flicked off half a tooth with a toothpick. Again.

It’s not fair that he should have any tooth problems, because he’s always looked after his teeth, he tells me. Although when he went with his siblings to the dentist it was always him needing a filling or two and his siblings, he assures me, were not deserving of good teeth.

See, luck of the draw these things.

My lovely man is very uncomplaining about any ailments.  Stoic.  I am not at all stoic if anything goes wrong.  Winger I could be labelled.

It is just as well I am healthy because I am not brave.  I would rather be dead than ill.  If I ever get ill, I am likely to be shot in the eye in frustration by my loved ones. They will certainly advocate a mercy killing, and their justification would be that it would be a mercy on them to be rid of me.

But you read these days that children now can expect to live to exceed 100 years in age. 

We can presume though, that they will be completely re-built.  Replacement knees, spine, hips, teeth, organs.  Because really, that’s what happens already doesn’t it?  By the time you are in your 60’s, all kinds of things start giving you hell.

Almost eight billion of us already, and everyone looks to exceed 100 years in age in the very near future. 

It’s not for sissies.

Keeping it Tidy – My Lovely Man

I have taken to giving my little pups their weekly bath with me in the shower.

This is easier than doing it over the bath.  Our wonderful house helper usually takes on the back breaking task of washing them with a hand shower in the bath, so she is very grateful at this new turn of events.

I have not yet suggested that perhaps she get in the shower with them, not sure her work contract stretches to that.

My lovely man takes on the drying role and the passing of a new pup for a lathering.

We should video this for your blog he suggested. 

You will be relieved to know that it was a hard no from me.  If he even appears in the bathroom with his phone, I’ll drown him.

On another note….

We have a lady come to the house both in Mozambique and Zimbabwe, to cut our hair.  (Not the same lady).

Very efficient really.

It was haircut day the other day, and we were both closely shorn.

Also, very efficient really.

I have been complimenting my lovely man on how handsome he looks.

He, in turn, has been calling me “mhanza”.  Which I was less than delighted to learn means baldy in Shona.

Compliments, who needs them hey?

Let’s play Golf, it’ll be fun – My Lovely Man

My lovely man plays a bit of golf with friends quite regularly. 

I’m not yet convinced anyone ENJOYS golf. 

A friend advertised her husband’s clubs for a ridiculously low price after listening to one too many rants as to how he was sick of the game and was going to sell his clubs. He fielded offers for days.

Another friend glanced at her phone once and said ‘Oh no, it’s my husband, he’s been playing Golf, he’s going to go on again’

Then she listed to his whining and whispered soothingly ‘No darling, you are not completely useless…’

Anyway… before my lovely man headed off to his afternoon golf game he made me a little plate of cold meats and salad for lunch (coz he is lovely), and then he staggered off to play 18 holes, and I went back to my desk. 

After their analysis at the 19th hole… no doubt as to how useless everyone was and what do they even play this game for, he comes home.

Are you alright darling he asks, did you have any supper? You didn’t eat a big lunch.  (Love him).

I’m alright thanks darling I assure him, I’m fine, I’m not hungry. I’m having a quick shower. 

OK, he says, but the chips you never ate are falling out your bra again.

Leave me alone, I have a headache – Topical

I am fascinated by the attraction to sex dolls, sex robots and the like.  And there is, I believe, a demand.

I don’t want to judge.  Some people are very judgemental, you can tell just by looking at them.

That’s not me.

But I am fascinated.  There was a recent story about a couple who decided to get a sex doll made up in the spitting image of the wife.  For, you know, when she’d had enough argy bargy.  The doll could step in.  This was their story.

Except the doll was not the spitting image of the wife.  She was enhanced quite a bit.  That’s gonna become a problem isn’t it.  And the doll is not going to age, get sick or get fat.

So many questions.  So many pros and cons really. And, one of the things I wonder about is ‘is this really a joint decision?’  Why didn’t the wife get her own improved sex doll husband?  Just to even things out.  Is there such a thing? 

But that’s just it, isn’t it, relationships ARE hard.  For me personally, it’s possibly time to get happy with being single if your partner needs to bring a doll into things.

Zambuk, it’ll last you forever – Daily Life, My Lovely Man

My lovely man has had a cold for over a month.  The poor bugger.  We have self-mediated, of course, but yesterday actually went to see a doctor and got him some anti-biotics.  This is his second dose of antibiotics, but the first lot didn’t do the trick it seems.  Possibly because it was just some stuff I had lying around to treat a cat bite.

Have I mentioned that you can pretty much buy any drug in Mozambique?  We are not as regulated.  No time for that shit, no money in it really. 

I had, being Flo Nightingale, been giving him some meds and arranging a steam bowl a couple of times a day.  And a little towel of course.

The doctor applauded my efforts and said that the steaming was good and needed to be continued.  He said that it’s the steam that does the good, not really what you put in the hot water.

I scoffed at this, I believe it’s the Vicks I put in the hot water.  The first time I gave it to my lovely man I had maybe put too much Vicks in the hot water and he nearly passed out.  Are you sure this is good for me he wept through streaming eyes.  Get under that towel already…. Course it’s good for you.

So, when we stopped at the chemist to get the antibiotics, I suggested he get more Vicks (yes, he went in on his own to get his meds, I had this blog to write).

The lady said that Zambuk to rub on my chest or steam with will also do the trick he announced on his return.  We have Zambuk don’t we?

Yes, of course we have Zambuk, we’ve had it for years.  Why for years, because you can’t get the lid off a Zambuk tin can you?  That stuff lasts forever.

It’s all a big hustle – Life in Africa

Most of the adult population in Southern Africa are not formally employed.  To survive, the people hustle. 

And it works.  Everything is available.  Everything is a negotiation.  I think, therefore, people from Southern Africa struggle in places that work normally.  We are not used to efficiency. It is exhausting here, it is frustrating, but we hustle and when we can’t hustle and there are RULES, we are bewildered.

Also, we get lots of additional services here. Useful.

I was always amused driving down a suburban street in Bryanston, Johannesburg, that advertised haircuts.  (Haircuts, styles, wigs, weaves etc are big money in Africa).  Quite a common thing to have snatched.  No worries about your jewellery or wallet being snatched by a mugger, they are likely to rip your expensive weave off your head. That’s when you have a real bad hair day.

But, I digress…

Along with the sign to advertise that you can get your hair cut on the side of road in Bryanston, the stylist doubled up as a traditional healer and could cast any number of spells to cure you of any ailment or curse your enemies as required.

I’m lucky if I get a cup of coffee at my hairdresser.

People don’t advertise their (informal) wares on websites really. But, they do so with Facebook pages and the like.

So, the FB page starts off with a clear description of what is being sold.  Zim Cars for example. But, diversification happens almost immediately. 

Here’s a handy service you can take advantage of at the same time you browse for a used vehicle.

•DO YOU DOUBT IF THE CHILD YOU ARE RAISING IS NOT YOURS?

•ARE YOU SUSPECTING IF YOUR WIFE HAD SOME AFFAIRS?

•DO YOU WANT TO KNOW YOUR PATERNAL OR MATERNAL RELATIVES?

•DO YOU WANT TO KNOW THE PERCENTAGE OF YOUR RACE?

•DO YOU WANT TO KNOW IF ITS POSSIBLE TO CONDUCT A DNA TEST WHEN ALLEGED FATHER IS DECEASED?

CONNECTS YOU TO THE TRUTH THROUGH THE APPLICATION OF GENETICS. DO A DNA TEST TODAY AND LIVE WITH THE BEST KNOWLEDGE FOREVER!!!!

Offers a wide range of DNA tests which best suit your condition and YES!!! , we have the SCIENTIFIC SOLUTION TO YOUR SOCIAL PROBLEM.

That’s what we need people, a scientific solution to our social problem. Don’t knock it until you try it.

Life in Africa – We’re OK, we drink plenty

Japan is issuing stern instructions to their youth to drink more.  They need the sin tax for economic growth it appears.

I have long pondered how the Zimbabwe economy staggers on, and I think I finally understand. 

I read quite a lot of opinion pieces (propaganda), where the government assures everyone that everything is under control and Zimbabwe is booming because of this or that and that it is absolutely fine for them to replace their entire fleet of cars with new Mercedes as a result.

Even when I diligently read the critics and their take on the Zimbabwe economy, I can’t make any sense of it.

We asked one of the banks here recently if, in fact, the seemingly popular purchasing of the Zimbabwe “Mosi-oa-Tunya” gold coin is stabilising things as is being claimed, and they answered ‘No comment’

And therefore we drink.  Because we are confused as to HOW Zimbabwe staggers on.  Well, really, a Zimbabwean has never needed an excuse to drink.

And here is the answer people!  The Japanese know.

When South Africa banned booze (and cigarettes and open toed shoes of course) because some bright spark decided this would help eliminate Covid 19, the Zimbabweans nodded knowingly. That isn’t ever going to happen in Zimbabwe.

Politics is quite harsh in Zimbabwe, but they know better than to take away a Zimbabwean’s beer.

Topical – Full Disclosure

Did you hear about the Russian cosmonaut that was outside of the space ship doing some job or the other when he was advised to return to base immediately because his battery pack was likely to malfunction and leave him in all kinds of poo?

He must have bought his power pack from the same little streets of Beira shop I did. I also didn’t give them a rave review on line.

First, what is the difference between a cosmonaut and an astronaut?  Apparently nothing except Cosmonauts are trained and certified by the Russian Space Agency, and Astronauts are trained and certified by NASA and others.  There you go hey, no love lost….

Secondly, this wardrobe malfunction probably has more serious implications, although not as widely watched or repeated on mainstream media, as Janet Jackson’s nipple gate.  And various others. 

There is immediate suspicion of course, when there is a wardrobe malfunction that ends up exposing some intimate bit in public that it was intentional, you know, for the publicity.

I have had the odd wardrobe malfunction, but I can assure you I was not coerced into the behavior and I don’t believe any publicity did me any favors.

Once I went to the office loo and tucked the bottom of my skirt into my panties.  I wandered around the open plan area for a while with my bum cheek hanging out. 

I was telling a friend about the incident and that I was contemplating killing myself, or at least resigning, and she said that she had gone to the lav and also tucked her skirt hem and the toilet paper she’d been using into her panties. She trailed a long stream of less than pristine loo paper from her panty elastic for some time.

I think she won.

This, unfortunately, has not been the worst incident I, (but mostly those witnessing), have suffered.  Our Mandova was diligently cleaning out the lounge very early in the morning once and glanced out the lounge French doors, across the stretch of the verandah and straight into the bedroom French doors where I was leisurely clothing myself. Sadly, only in the very beginning stages of this dressing process.

We have never spoken of this, but it is not something he can unsee I suspect.  He is no longer as diligent about cleaning so early and if he does, he keeps all the drapes closed and his head down.  I suspect he has also started drinking.  I know I have.