Tag: My Lovely Man

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What do you mean it’s discontinued?

Do you have a favourite product that is now discontinued? Do you also sort of feel insulted that you weren’t consulted considering your years of loyalty?

This past year I settled on a lipstick colour. I’m not sure if it’s an age thing and I am always admiring of people who match their lipstick with their outfits, nails and the like. But me, I finally decided that a particular colour was all that I needed.

Maybelline Stayfast 725 since you insist on knowing.

When I was a teenager and experimenting with make up I once put on some bright red lipstick. ‘You shouldn’t wear red lipstick a friend immediately told me, your mouth is too big, you look like a whore’

So, there you go, what are friends for if not their honesty?

It has, however, taken me this long to settle on a colour.

So, getting some more 725s was on my list of purchases to make in SA. (I am a list girl, there is ALWAYS a list). Ask my lovely man, there is always a list for him too.

Finding some 725s proved more difficult than anticipated. Eventually some sweet girl at Clicks told me that it had been discontinued (devastating), but she would look in the old stock and find what she could for me.

I explained my plight and that THIS was my colour and why I couldn’t wear dark colours. She was amazingly empathetic to my story and reinforced it by saying ‘and an OLD whore now, that wouldn’t be good’

Bless her.

She found me 4 725s. I was so grateful. And then she said…

Do you think these will last you your lifetime?

Honestly, employee of the month.

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Can’t be too careful

In Mozambique, well certainly in Beira, they like to steal parts of your car and sell them back to you.

It’s a very efficient system, you can go to the market, enquire about a recently missing part and buy it back for top dollar.

The solution is to engrave (with some sort of identity number), as much as you can, and pop rivet things here and there.

As with most security, you really just want it to be easier that they steal from someone else.

In a panic, we realised my lovely man’s car was not adequately identified and secured. And, before it could be done, I had to use it to go to the parlour for a wee pedicure.

Unfortunately, at the very pleasant parlour, I have, for some years, been nominated the sadist to attend to my pedicure. Not only is there no sign of rough heels after a session, I am usually limping out on bloody stumps.

As it turns out, she is a very thoughtful sadist. She noticed me peering out the window continually to try and ensure nobody lifted a wing mirror off the car.

She indicated that she was in a better position to watch the car. Then she got everyone else in the salon who wasn’t busy, to watch the car in shifts.

Bless them! I managed to return home with the car intact. Not so much my heels.

My lovely man then had the car attended to. I had to get extra money from the company to pay the guy, he announced, I didn’t have enough. Come and look.

Everything is engraved people. And everything else is pop riveted. I think they only stopped pop riveting because they ran out he advised me.

I suspect the car is 50% heavier and the fuel efficiency halved. But hey, its safe.

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Give it to me now

My lovely man is a nervous passenger. At least he is with me. Which is strange, because I’m an excellent driver.

My lovely man would do all the driving if he could. Unfortunately for him, we do regular long trips. He has two issues (excluding me). He doesn’t sleep before any travel. Like for a week. But especially the night before. Probably because he is worrying about the section that he has to let me drive. The second issue is he has this whole pain in the bum thing going on. Once again, over and above me. So, his right cheek goes into a spasm after driving for a few hours and then he, very reluctantly, has to let me take over.

This is not a restful time for him. Much foot pumping, grimacing, imploring the heavens to save us and quite a bit of criticism.

All of this I blissfully ignore. Because I’m an excellent driver. I’ve never had an accident that was my fault. (I’ve always managed to drive away before anyone realised I was the cause).

Relax darling I instruct, let Jesus take the wheel. Unfortunately, he replied, you are at the wheel.

On a recent trip as we were nearing Harare, I asked if he thought Surrey pies would be open.

Are you allowed… he started.. and then thought better of it.

I haven’t eaten carbs for two months. Must be something to this theory, because I have dropped 7kg’s so far. What is alarming is that I have more than 7kg to lose.

But now, I was having a pie fantasy. Wait until you are over 50, your fantasies dramatically change.

So, we got some pies. I was still in the driving seat. Please can I have my pie I asked.

They are really, really hot darling, he tried. And you are driving. Perhaps we should wait until we get home.

GIVE ME THE PIE.

My already nervous back seat driver now had to endure me driving with one hand and nibbling on a molten pie. It was too much.

Before you kill us and this literally be our last meal, he instructed, pull over and let me drive and you eat the pie.

Who’s the hangry one really?

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Somebody save me

We went for a walk on the beach in Beira. You have to plan this around low tide in Beira. The beach is, sadly, not the cleanest, and requires the pulling in of all that rubbish by the backwash. (Yes, Gretha would actually just fall down in a weeping mess if she ever visited here). Secondly, the beach slopes, and unless you have two severely different leg lengths, it’s terribly uncomfortable to walk for any distance.

And then, of course, if low tide occurs during the heat of the day, any idea of going for a stroll should be immediately discarded.

We managed to venture out at the relatively reasonable hour of 8am. (We actually should only have gone at 08h30… but my lovely man likes to be early for everything). Being early for anything in Mozambique is actually not a good idea, because you usually find yourself alone in your punctuality.

I digress…

On a Sunday, there are usually Church services (and soccer games), happening on the beach. In amongst the debris from the Saturday night party of course. Alcohol is not allowed on Mozambique beaches, but this law is not ever evident from the broken bottles to be found at any given time.

I digress…

Oh look, my lovely man announced, they are baptizing someone. And indeed, there was much shouting and singing and what appeared to be the public drowning of some poor woman.

Baptism in the Beira sea shallows is not for sissies. However, it appears that the banishing of any demons is guaranteed. Standing on the beach observing, we too felt cleansed of our sins. The woman being blessed was not, it appeared, given much time to catch a breath of air between her repeated dunks. There was a LOT to be said about the matter it was obvious, and all of it to the rhythm of repeatedly pushing her under, pulling her out, pushing her under.

The crowd sang on encouragingly. She must have been thinking ‘Just as well I’m being baptized, because the end is nigh.’ Like now.

It this what water boarding is like I asked my lovely man.

It looked to be over… but actually.. a close friend was just removing her…. to deeper water…

I think we should leave I suggested, before we are asked to be witnesses to a crime scene.

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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?

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Why did you give up that job?

My lovely man has had an interesting work career. I think he has started many more businesses than he has actually been employed by companies. A real entrepreneur. And he is knowledgeable in many things as a result.

of course the various stories are not only fascinating, but often amusing. Even when they don’t mean to be.

Like the ice business he had at one stage. Which, by all accounts, did very well. But, he closed it in a huff because the government wanted him to pay tax.

It’s just water he argued, frozen water! You can’t tax water, it’s a basic human right. (As should be the ice cubes in your Scotch).

So, in outrage, he closed the business down and did something else. That showed them.

We wish water was free, and that income couldn’t be taxed.

Ask Shakira about adopting that attitude.

Of course, we could all be evangelists. They are tax exempt. Marvelous.

I digress.

By far my lovely man’s favourite job and one he longs to return to, was driving yellow machines and front loaders. At one stage he helped out with loading sand into trucks. Best job ever! I’m not saying he is the one in the picture, but who knows. It didn’t last.

Quite often if we drive past a construction site or men driving TLB’s, forklifts and the like he will whisper…. what I would do for a backhoe.

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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.

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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.

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My Lovely Man – bring on the bees already

Two days ago there was great excitement and my lovely man dragged me out to the bee hive where indeed, there were half a dozen bees buzzing around.

But they went away and so far, have not returned. Clearly not impressed with our hive.  I’m considering putting the price tag on it to assure them of it’s quality.

We need to figure out how to attract them my lovely man stated sadly.

My suggestions of moving the compost heap the hive is near, painting the hive orange (orange is ALWAYS good), maybe thinking about putting in a little jacuzzi, some art work and a comfy bean bag or two have been met with scorn.

This morning my lovely man had found an educational You Tube channel.

Darling he said, the sound is off, please help.

My lovely man is somewhat technically challenged.

I spent 10 minutes trying to unmute it. Checked all the settings, subscribed, generally faffed around.

Eventually I said… Is the volume down?

We probably don’t deserve bees, we are idiots.