Tag: My Lovely Man

Posted on

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.

Posted on

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?

Posted on

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.

Posted on

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.

Posted on

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.

Posted on

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.