Super Sunday

After finishing some editing early this morning, taking a brisk walk in blustery but sunny conditions and partaking of a mini breakfast and maxi cappuccino, followed by preparing lunch (hot pudding included), I parked off for the rest of the day to watch the #2 highlight of the tennis year, the men's final at Roland Garros.

My two favourite players, Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic (in that order) were at it again, and I settled down on the couch, surrounded by dogs and cats huddling for warmth as temperatures outside plummeted, hoping for a 5-setter. Needless to say, my viewing was punctuated by frequent jack-in-the-box leaps from the couch to wait on HWCFA, who requires more attention than a three-month-old baby, serving food, beverages and fixing the TV settings after he presses the wrong buttons on the remote.

It was clear that Novak was suffering from some discomfort during the match, and although he recovered and it could so easily have gone to 5 sets, I can only say that certain members of the crowd should have been evicted due to unsporting behaviour, calling out incessantly and definitely putting him off his service. I am sure he won't use that as an excuse, but surely those sitting next to the offender should have gagged him? The umpire could have held a tighter rein.

However, I am very happy that Nadal won and has achieved his record 9 wins at Roland Garros. Perhaps next year for Novak. In the meantime, they continue to provide a spectacular display of skill for tennis lovers. Long may they last!

My garden idyll

It's always interesting to look at old photos to see how your garden has changed over the years. Sometimes it's hard to believe it ever looked so neat and tidy, as you survey the chaotic debris after a run of winter storms and no time spent gardening. I seem to have a comprehensive record of the river that has run through our property for the last 20 or so years - I think a watercourse must have become diverted as the hillside became dotted with more and more houses.

Various parts of the garden have had makeover after makeover, but all eventually became rambling and neglected due to pressure of other interests and obligations, not to mention an incredibly unreliable gardener.
In 2008 we enclosed the front portion of the garden and I built a rockery and relocated most of my shade plants (clivias and bromeliads) to incorporate them in my new private garden with railway sleepers under the milkwood tree.  A small fiddlewood tree, hibiscus and other shrubs had suffered from drought over the last 20 years as I never watered outside the fence, and in the last 5 years I can see what a difference watering would have made to their growth!

 

This is what the area looks like now - a veritable jungle! Soon it will be time to start hacking it back as the recent rains have encouraged new growth of 30cm and more on the fiddlewood, with the milkwood lagging only slightly. I have to confess that I never fed my plants either (hangs head in shame) and they are now receiving regular organic granules - let no one accuse me of neglecting my garden any more! The tranquillity of this little patch of garden under the tree will transport you into another world, with only the songs of the birdlife to interrupt your thoughts.

Our English Adventure #9

There were obviously places too far from Plymouth where the coach tours didn't go, or because they finally gave up in winter when the daylight hours were too few to justify a 'day trip'. Before we got our car, we had to hire one for short holidays and at mid-term, we were set to go up to the Lake District. Dad duly got the car, an Austin 1100, and we all piled in, while he opened the boot to put the luggage in. Needless to say, the car went straight back and an Austin Cambridge, which actually had a boot, replaced it. Comfortably ensconced, we set off on our first long trip.

We meandered through Wales, where we saw snow for the first time in our young lives, and newborn lambs out in the frozen fields - presumably they survived. All very exciting, but it was really only a light sprinkling! We reached the Peak District and saw absolutely nothing due to fog! On we drove, taking in all the new sights, the narrow country lanes, towering hedgerows and England's pastures green (mostly). Everything was new to us, especially the ancient buildings, inns and grand country houses. The Midlands were at that time still the hub of coal-fuelled industrial activity and grimy smog hung in the air. (I went back in about 2003 and was amazed at how clean and bright everything was - proof that our mistakes can be reversed.)

Our first night was spent at a country inn, I think the Spreading Chestnut or some such romanticism. It was not cheap, but absolutely awful. The breakfast table was covered in lino and had old baked beans stuck to it. When we reached the Lake District, we installed ourselves in the best hotel we ever stayed in while we were on our English Adventure - on the lake, snowy linen (with hot water bottles to take the chill off by the chambermaids, who treated my sisters and I like princesses), dinner tables covered in double damask, silver cutlery and gourmet food - all for the same price as the Spreading Baked Beans! We were so enchanted that we stayed for 4 days!

Mom tells me that their room was a kind of bridge between two wings of the hotel, and a river ran between the buildings. The rushing water kept waking her up and she would rush into the bathroom to turn off the taps before realising that it was the river.

Apparently Mom and Dad were congratulated by the hotel staff on the impeccable behaviour of their three children, which I have always attributed to their impeccable manner of bringing us up!

Jumping onto the bandwagon - consumer awareness

Once again I must take issue with a 'special' at Pick n Pay. Last week there was a prominent Save sign on rindless back bacon at R20, which seemed like a bacon lover's dream come true. As I stooped to retrieve a few packs from the bottom shelf - placed to draw your attention from the upper shelves - I scanned all the other bacon pricing to make sure this was in fact the cheapest on shelf.

Imagine my surprise when my eye fell on the same brand of rbb at R28 on a higher shelf. I picked one up and compared the two and fancy that! the one on special was 200g and the normal one 250g. Why the need for two weights for the same product? Did .... order too much of the 200g packaging or were they asked to use it for the special promotion?

Pick n Pay puts up labels to enable you to compare products by weight/Rand, and on comparing the two, the special was in fact cheaper than the normal product. But as always, my gripe with them is the way they advertise their specials. The consumer is led to believe that they normally pay R28 for the product, when in fact if they had bought the lesser weight not on special, it would have been R22. Not quite the bargain basement price that they want us to believe.

I have had issues with them before on their methods of advertising specials and have in fact been successful in having a special offer removed from the shelves while I watched. Retailers are in business to make vast profits for their stakeholders, and shopping should always be done with circumspection. Bulk packaging is very often more expensive than regular sizing and the weight/Rand label should always be examined for comparison. In this respect, I can commend Pick n Pay.

My sometimes anal obsession with price-checking of specials and readiness to confront store managers is based on a desire to ensure that consumers who are not able or willing to do this themselves can still have a voice.

It's your choice

Every moment of every day is an opportunity to change your mind about something. One of the most important decisions you can make is about what you put into your body, as this will have huge repercussions on your health. By making wise choices, the long-term benefit of buying more expensive, select ingredients now will be medical savings in later life.

There is no shortage of advice on the web, and from friends and family on what is good or bad, but all overlook one vital point – one size does not fit all; every body is different.

When I was in my 30s, I was told by two different physicians that my body was at a stage of deterioration of someone 20 years older and that I displayed typical symptoms of hypothyroidism, but no one actually diagnosed it. After years of painful joints, irritable bowel syndrome and extreme tiredness, I consulted a nutritionist who, with the help of some incredible tools, confirmed that years of yo-yo dieting had resulted in an underactive thyroid which wrecked my metabolism and promoted insulin resistance.

She set up an eating regimen which eliminated sugar, wheat and dairy. Sugar means carbohydrates, not the white stuff you sprinkle on cereal. I can eat eggs, chicken, meat, vegetables, nuts, seeds and berries. The results were amazing: within 2 weeks I was pain-free and energized. I lost 15kg over the next few months. I could climb trees, over walls, run short distances and even went horse riding in the Drakensberg. Admittedly that crocked me for a few days, but nevertheless I did it. I was now twenty years younger than my age!

But there are still many pitfalls even on a limited diet. A friend gave me a  raw foods ‘cookbook’, which I read from cover to cover and decided that green juicing was just the thing. For a month I shopped, chopped, juiced and filled my body with a supercharge of vitamins. What was never mentioned in the book was that raw cruciferous vegetables (kale, cabbage, Brussels sprouts and spinach) are the last thing you must eat if you have an underactive thyroid. They must be cooked. The result was that I completely shut down my thyroid function and I am still recovering from that. Years of eating coleslaw didn’t help either.

There is also a group of vegetables called nightshades which ferment inside me and create nothing but acidity which is what disease thrives on. An alkaline body is required for optimum health. The nightshades are: potatoes, tomatoes, aubergines and red peppers. Can you imagine how many of those I have eaten in my life? I have proved that these three food groups are a disaster for me, and I know that when I deviate the pains and tiredness return. It’s hard to swim against the stream, but the choice is mine and I have to take that direction.

There is a growing call to eliminate sugar, wheat and dairy from our diets as our intolerance for these ingredients becomes evident. But our culture and especially big business is so invested in these products that anyone who promotes this point of view is labeled a crank, weirdo or even worse, a conspiracy theorist! Now there’s nothing I like more than a conspiracy theory. It makes you think and question what we have been taught. Imagine if no one ate sugar, wheat and dairy anymore! There would be no high tea at the Mount Nelson, no Charly’s Bakery, no bun for your burger. Pizza would be a thing of the past. Celebrity chefs would be scrambling to rewrite their recipe books; we wouldn’t have cappuccino and cheesecake with the girls; no hot chocolate on a cold winter’s night.

You can see how difficult it’s going to be to change the world, can’t you?

What would be the result if everyone gave up these foods? Improved health, less need for medication, weight loss, increased energy, lack of pain.

You only have one body for this life. You can make it a prison or a temple. The choice is yours.

Just saying again...

I am always amazed, amused, bemused and confused by those who do not subscribe to thinking.

Amazed, because these people usually come from the scientific world, where nothing exists if you can’t prove it or see it, yet apparently everything that they believe in is being disproven daily as technology enables us to discover things in a new way and debunk the old beliefs. Debunk. An interesting word. To expose the falseness of a myth or belief, to ridicule. Some people make it their business to debunk everything they don’t agree with. Yet how can you disprove the existence of something you cannot prove exists. Surely it just means that you haven’t yet acquired the necessary skills to observe it? In a world where Man’s ability to see is limited to a very tiny part of the electromagnetic spectrum, can it ever be said that we have seen all there is to see? Does this not mean that everything else that exists, exists in a format we are unable to see? Most scientific observations remain just that – an observation that because such and such happened, so and so must have been there. Proved by supposition?

Amused, because people have obtained Master’s Degrees and Doctorates based on scientific beliefs that have subsequently been proved false. Do these Degrees get revoked or do you remain a Doctor of Oops, I Was Wrong?

Bemused, because they all believe they are right and there is absolutely no room for anyone else’s opinion. End of conversation.

Confused, because thinkers are open-minded and allow others to have their own beliefs without trying to make them wrong. Because thinkers take joy in believing that any and all things are possible in this universe of which we are an integral part, with our own purpose in the whole and not as separate beings. Because thinkers find no pleasure in the ridicule of others’ beliefs and feel no need to be the judge of true or false.

It is because of fear of ridicule or appearing less ‘normal’ than the rest of society that most of those who have direct knowledge and connection with the realm of the afterlife keep their knowledge to themselves. Many of them are highly respected in their societies; you can be sure that if they made known their experiences, that respect would disappear into the very ether from which we all come. It is only once ego can be separated from who we really are that the truth will be made known. For those who do not wish to know, it will not matter. Nothing can change what is.

Kitties climbing all over!

When Mango Kitty and Mr Bigglesworth are charging around the house, tumbling and grappling, doing those funny arch-backed, sideways jumps that kitties do, and then suddenly shooting off at a 90 degree angle, the phrase "more fun than a barrel of monkeys" springs to mind. I would have thought there would be a similar phrase for kittens, but I have yet to hear it. So for now monkeys will have to do.

They have discovered the curtains. This no doubt is to give my legs a respite. One jumps onto the windowsill, and then the other runs up the curtain to catch him. I can say it's been an unmitigated disaster for my curtains, which are at a very fragile stage of their existence, having spent nearly twenty years in the sun. I'm hoping this playing stage will pass, as none of our previous four cats ever ran up a curtain, or my leg that I can recall. So far I have managed to rearrange the ample pleating (these were not cheap, ready-made curtains!) and hidden the little claw holes from view, but it only needs a little extra weight and enthusiasm for the curtain to rip from top to bottom with a kitty sliding down. Shades of Harpo in A Night at the Opera!

The house has always accommodated animals before people, strangely enough. Perhaps I am just too easygoing and could never smack an animal, but they have had free rein here for 30 years. The leather couch has seen better days, but because it too was a top of the range item in its day, bought because it was so comfortable to lie on when watching TV, some colourful throws and scatter cushions have rejuvenated it. Of course they slide off as the kitties leap from couch to couch but hey, it's good exercise tucking all those bits in!

Here we have them on either side of a window, trying to touch each other! What wonderful toys they make!