Monday, December 27, 2010

WEDDING PICS

We're off to Botswana in the morning, but if you want to see a sneak preview of some great wedding pics by Danielle Pretorius, go to Wedding Angel Photography on Facebook and look for "Rob & Glen".

Sunday, December 26, 2010

WE DID IT!


At about 5pm, on Dec 21st, we did it! Glen and I were married!!

Like all weddings, it was not without its drama. My sister, who was also my witness, was due to arrive at 6am the day prior to the wedding. But because Heathrow was closed due to severe weather and other complications too numerous to mention, her trip took four days!! She arrived at 2pm on the day of the wedding-- just in time to shower and change for the 5pm service!

Twenty-six hours prior to the wedding, we still were not sure my sister would arrive in time and if she did would her luggage-- which contained my wedding dress and shoes-- arrive with her. So at 3pm on the eve of the wedding, cousin Alida from Chicago and I, set out to find a new wedding dress (unaware that stores were closing at 6pm!). As you can see from the pic, we were successful! Shoes were purchased in a department store as the lights were flickering to mark closing time. Cousins Alida and Bob were life-savers, stepping to to do all that was necessary as I had stopped sleeping fretting about my sister's whereabouts!

Just as I stepped out the door to be transported to the wedding, the skies opened: lightning, thunder and a downpour. Fortunately, we had a arranged with the restaurant, Roots at Forum Homini, where we were being married, to move the ceremony inside if the weather turned inclement. It certainly made for a dramatic ceremony, but I hardly noticed. My pal, Heather Graham, had kindly reminded me to try to be in the moment and enjoy this life-changing ceremony-- so I simply stayed focused on my beloved.

The Rev, Chris Page, who could not have prepared a more perfect ceremony for us, mentioned that not only was it the Summer Solstice, but it was a full moon and a lunar eclipse-- a most auspicious day for a wedding!

It all turned out beautifully-- dinner, fire at the cabins where we spent two nights and a post-wedding breakfast with the gang. We are off to our honeymoon in Botswana on the 28th! WOO HOO!

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

WHAT A YEAR IT'S BEEN!


PREVIEW OF OUR WEDDING LOCATION AT THE CRADLE OF HUMANKIND


I woke up at 5am this morning and thought, "Next week at this time, I will wake up married for the first time in 28 years!!!!" If that isn't enough to make one's heart stop, I don't know what is!

But it is exactly the right way to end this jam-packed year. One year ago I was packing to return to South Africa to be re-united with Glen after months of separation.

We didn't return to our familiar apartment at Brookwood, but were instead camped out in a tiny bedroom at Craig's, our friend and former landlord's place. Glen's things were stacked in Craig's garage and, as we were only to discover later, becoming a cozy home to the local mice colony.

Then time began to move faster and hasn't stopped! Before we left on our Christmas holidays last year, Glen showed me the Emmarentia house where we were to move in the new year.

In January, we moved and began the process of turning the Emmarentia house into an inhabitable place.
In February, Glen finally got divorced and we began working on the stacks of paperwork required for his Canadian residency.
In March, I returned to Canada to do another tv series and we submitted Glen's application for Canadian residency.
In April, Glen proposed via skype-- appropriate for a romance that began and was kept alive via the internet.
In May, Glen sold the Emmarentia house, left his job of 13 years at the NBI, went freelance as a consultant and I was approved as his Sponsor by Canadian Immigration. I commuted to and from Kitchener, Ontario, for 6 weeks to shoot a tv series.
In June, we planned and booked a South African wedding via internet while I was working in Kitchener.
In July, we booked a honeymoon to Botswana.
In August, Glen arrived in Canada. We were feted at a party given by Gail, Bill & Leslie: attended the Herman Family Reunion; and spent time in the UK with Jonathan, Hayley and Mike.
In September, we found a new place to move and packed up all our belongings while I assembled a mass of paper for my South African Residency. I telecommuted and did some work for a Canadian production company.
In October, we moved and Home Affairs accepted my South African Visa paperwork.
In November, Glen worked like a demon and I got to kick back and join a gym, start pottery classes and write for an e-zine, while keeping wedding plans moving along.
And now, in December, we take care of all the last minute wedding details while awaiting the arrival of our guests from South Africa, the UK and the US.
December 21st we do the deed! December 28th, we head to Botswana and exhale!

Thursday, November 18, 2010

A TALE OF TWO LITTLE GIRLS


This is a tale of two little South African girls, both aged 4. One is African, the other is Indian.

Last week, Grace, our domestic worker, told me about her little girl, Karabo. She has a tooth that was so badly infected that it was bleeding. Her cheek was swollen and the infection had travelled to her ear. The child was in so much pain that she couldn’t eat or sleep. Fortunately, Grace was able to take her to a clinic and get her on antibiotics. Today, Grace told me that Karabo is doing better, but her cheek is still purple and she is still in pain. They are waiting for the antibiotics to clear up the infection and then will pull the tooth, one of her permanent ones.

Yesterday, I returned home and pulled into the garage. There is a “street” in our small complex where the many children who live here, of all sizes and colours, play. Two little ones, aged 4, Sabi and Alex, are my favourites. If our front door is open they will often pop in for a quick visit and they have proclaimed our place “very nice”. When I got out of my very basic and serviceable Fiat Palio, they were there to greet me. Sabi, the little girl of the pair, informed me has she has a much nicer car than I do. She proudly added that it is an Audi. I was quite astonished that a 4 year old even knew what an Audi was! I tried to explain that my car was a blue and that colour was very nice, making mine a very good car too. She would have none of it and returned to play with Alex.

The South Africa that these two little girls live in are worlds apart. Sabi’s mom is our next door neighbour and couldn’t be a more a more friendly charming person. She is a stay-at-home mom with two small children, age 4 and 9. She also has a domestic helper 7 days a week who does the housework and will look after the kids if she has to go out. Recently, when I mentioned I had joined a gym and would she like to come along sometime, she mentioned she had no free time for such things—it would be impossible as she is just too busy.

Grace is a single mom who works as a domestic for various families 5 days a week. She lives in a township called Diepsloot and I have always feared of asking her what her living conditions are like, but I can imagine as the townships are known to be notoriously unsafe.

I cannot help but wonder about these two little girls, Karabo and Sabi, whose lives could not be more different. What will growing up be like for each of them? Where will each of them end up? I would love to be able to see each of them fifteen or twenty years hence as I can not imagine what their lives will be like.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

SO THIS IS WHAT LOVE IS........



While at the gym yesterday, I kept thinking of love and how it has changed not only my life, but how it has changed me. If you’re not in the mood for love, I suggest skipping this one.

Maybe what got me thinking was the fact that I looked at the calendar and realized that we are getting married in six weeks! Eish! Better start writing those vows.

Seriously, now that we are settled into our new place, life has taken on an interesting rhythm. We spend most of our time together and after so many months apart, it feels wonderful just to have Glen around. We truly appreciate the time together even when doing the mundane and let’s face it, there is a fair amount of that in daily life.

There is something relaxing in me and there is a closeness with Glen that I have never experienced in quite the same way with another person. Life is calmer and life is good. Problems can be discussed and sorted together. There is an ear and there is a shared life. After all those years on my own, I’m not sure I have ever felt this supported before.

It all feels so right and six weeks from today we seal the deal.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

LIFE IN A COZY COCOON WITH CRACKS


This is the view from our bedroom window. I am proud of this photo.

Despite both of us working hard—Glen at consulting and me at getting us settled in—we have made a cozy life here in Hyde Park. The house is comfy, we have a small yard and now with pots of herbs and flowers growing. The swanky mall complete with restaurants and cinema is just up the street. We attended to his daughter’s youth orchestra concert on Sunday, are off to a national park for the weekend and have tickets for a play the following weekend. Anyone with money can cocoon here and live the good life.

Then there are the cracks. The political ones.

Glen has been consulting with the Ministry of Higher Education. He is on a Task Team to provide desperately needed reorganization of the South African colleges. This is not the first time this has been attempted, but this time, it looked as if it could really succeed, partly due to the leadership provided by the Director General of the Department with whom he’s been working closely. Let’s call her Mary. Mary is the highest ranking civil servant in the Department and answers directly to the Minister. Let’s call him Blade. Mary works HARD. Calls and emails from her on evenings and weekends are not unusual. Glen responds happily because he holds Mary in such high regard. Not only does she work hard, but she understands the issue to its core and provides great leadership. Glen speaks of her with the greatest respect and admiration.

Sunday morning, Glen received a text saying there was a rumour Mary had been let go by Blade. Today it has been confirmed. Politics are always nasty business, but this is completely disheartening. Glen has been deeply affected and is discouraged.
There was progress. There was hope for finally getting the colleges on track.

Today’s paper says, “The administration has to align itself to the political direction of the government.” It only begs the question of, “Isn’t the political direction of this government education, jobs and prosperity for it’s grossly undereducated and unemployed populace?” Glen’s not a political insider and can only speculate as to the real reason. Does Blade, an ANC and Communist Party stalwart, feel threatened by this brilliant white woman? Or are there simply backroom politics of which we have no idea?

In a country where the President’s theme song is the macho aggressive, Awlethu Mshini Wam, or “Bring Me My Machine Gun”, there is a long way to go before the democratic ideals on which this baby democracy was founded can be achieved.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Lightning, Thunder and a Happy Home


The rainy season has been threatening us in the most aggressive way the past few nights—thunder, lightning and howling winds. The junk trees in the vacant lot next door move with the litheness of agitated dancers. Weather here in Johannesburg is never dainty but echoes the city—violent, aggressive, angry. Despite all the flash and drama, only a few drops of rain have fallen. The city is dry and dusty. Our potted plants devour water daily.

Meanwhile, Glen and I are settling in to our new place in Hyde Park. The last boxes are disappearing, art is going up on the walls and order ensues. Everything is clean and white—the walls, the cupboards, and the doors. As someone who prides herself on having a place full of colour, the cleanness and neutrality is satisfying. We add colour and life in other ways. Each day we comment about something we hadn't noticed previously that we like about thisplace. What is most satisfying is that everything works, the roof doesn’t leak and all the toilets flush! We are easy to please. Each day, it feels more like home.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

FAREWELL EMMARENTIA

October 1st, 8:15 am. Moving Day.

Every single item we own was boxed and ready to go. We were ready. Grace, our domestic helper, was busy wiping down counters so that we left the place in the best shape possible. Flowers and chocolates were in place for the new owners.

So where was Sean the Mover who had been booked and triple-confirmed for 8am???

I called, “Stuck in traffic, “ was his reply. I thought, “Ok, it’s the one day of the month he makes all his money, so he squeezed in another job before ours.” No problem. 9:30 am. Still no mover. When he stopped answering calls, I sent him a text. “Delayed until noon, but could possibly arrive at 11:30.” I believed him. Glen and Grace were moving delicate items in the Landy while I waited……. By early afternoon, he was not answering his phone, stopped returning text messages and his voicemail was full. That cursed house was not going to let us exit gracefully!

The new owners were coming by to pick up keys at 2pm. Panic rising, I resolved to call every mover in town until I could find someone who could get us moved that afternoon. As I walked onto the porch, laptop under my arm to start the task, there was my Beloved going through the Yellow Pages doing exactly the same thing! If we are anything, we are in sync.

After only a few calls, an angelic man named Heinrich said he had a truck finishing a job and could be at our place by 5pm. By 8:30pm, they had us completely moved into our new place. May blessings reign down on him and his crew!

Before heading to the new place to hang curtains in our very exposed bedroom windows (while Glen stayed to supervise the move), I walked through the Emmarentia house one last time. The only phrase going through my head, was “Fuck you, Eileen!” She had left us a disaster but Glen had triumphed though a great real estate deal. It was just payback for the nearly five years of unnecessary divorce agony she had put him through. Surely this was the final page of that chapter.

By the way, that wretched Sean Naidoo never did show up. May his tires always be flat.

Monday, September 20, 2010

NOT OUR PROBLEM

So much of this blog has been taken up with the never-ending calamities around the Emmarentia house: roof leaks, cable theft, rats, and clearing the jungle of a garden that we were left.

When I returned after a six month absence, I was struck by the increased deterioration of this place. But, the house had been sold “as is”. Buyer beware! So as frustrating as it is to have deal with the dozens of things that don’t work in this house, my new mantra has become “It’s not our problem anymore.”

We drank good South African bubbly last night to celebrate the fact that the real estate deal, brokered in May, has finally closed! We’re now living in someone else’s house and it’s really not our problem anymore! It is pure joy to utter those words!

The timing was perfect. We gambled that the deal would close this month and rented a place for October 1st. In less than two weeks, we are gone! Boxes are being filled, artwork being taken down, and the exodus begins nine months after having moved in!

What will I miss about this house? As a Northerner, I will miss the lemon tree. I have never gotten over the thrill walking out the kitchen door and picking freshly grown lemons whenever I need some. There are only a few left on the tree and it is just about to bloom. I hope it pops while we are still here as I expect it will be gorgeous. Also, I will miss having a gas stove and having a large office with French doors opening to the deck overlooking the pool. But are any of those things enough to hold me here? Never! Let the move begin!

I drafted this blog yesterday morning just before we were heading out for lunch (which turned out to be DIVINE!) at ROOTS restaurant where our wedding will take place. About an hour before departure, the power went out. Until we were ready to leave, it hadn’t dawned on either of us that without power, our gate won’t open. We were trapped! So there we were, nicely dressed, unsuccessfully taking apart the gate to escape our own home! All I kept thinking is, “This is no way to live!” Defeated by the gate, Glen was reassembling it while I went it in to call the restaurant to cancel our reservation. Then there was a shout from Glen, “The power’s on. Let’s get out before it goes out again!” Soon, very soon, this will not be our problem!!

Sunday, September 19, 2010

SIGNS OF THE NEIGHBOURHOOD


The sign that brings happiness in front of the Emmarentia house.


Emmarentia is an old Jewish neighbourhoood.....



...that has a new mosque. No one seems to mind.... :0)

Sunday, September 12, 2010

RETURN TO SOUTH AFRICA


Three weeks ago tomorrow, we arrived back in South Africa. It was my birthday, my 56th—the year that I will marry Glen and commit to him and to our relationship for the rest of my life. To be under the same roof again, albeit a leaky one, brings me great pleasure,

The first thing that struck me upon our return, aside from the distinct chill in the air, was that so many of the trees are bare. It’s the end of winter here and about 75% of the trees are bare. The others retain their leaves—the flora of South Africa remains a mystery to me! Our lush overgrown yard at the Emmarentia house is filled with light. And it is a quality of light that takes me back to 2006, the only time I spent winter here. How can one describe something as fleeting and ethereal as a quality of light? Yet, it is a remarkably distinctive light—clear crisp and outlining every tiny sprout as the leaves just come peeping out on these bare trees. It is a dry light—if there can be such a thing. Fortunately, after the chilly long nights, the sun warms the afternoon to a mild 20C. The front of the house faces north so we open doors and windows to let the warmth flood into this damp old house. Our bedroom, located on the south side (we’re in the southern hemisphere here where all seems reversed to us northerners) never seems to warm up and I insist on using our sole heater there to take the chill off before bed.

The day after our return, Grace, our friendly hard-working cleaner arrived. We greeted each other warmly as we caught up on news. She told me of Constance, a friend who had worked with her here when the house was in too rough shape for one person to clean. They worked together happily chatting away but never stopping working. Grace told me Constance died a few weeks ago—a woman likely in her early to mid-30s—she gave birth a few weeks ago and while making a bottle for her two week old son, she collapsed without warning. An ambulance was called and she died en route to hospital, reason unknown. Her two children will now be raised by her parents in Venda. When I told Glen, his response was. “Was it AIDS?” but it doesn’t appear to have been so as Grace said she had not been ill. I would guess it had something to do with the aftermath of her giving birth and the lack of post-natal care here. Life is incredibly harsh if you’re poor in this country.

Grace also told me she was no longer working for Glen’s daughter and son-in-law. I was surprised because Grace, a single mom of one, can’t afford to be without work. She told me how they needed a domestic for an additional day per week and Grace was booked elsewhere, so they hired a woman from Zimbabwe. Grace proceeded to tell me how all Zimbabweans are illegal and will steal from you. I was taken aback by her xenophobia. I decided to tread lightly but couldn’t let her comments go unaddressed. I said, “Well, Oliver, our gardener, is from Zim and he’s nothing but honest and hardworking and is also legal in SA.” To which she replied. “Sometimes it takes a long time for before they steal from you……” These comments, from Grace, a normally bright calm woman were unnerving—one can see how the riots in the townships of only two years ago happened in which those perceived as foreigners were attacked and their houses burned. Take it a step further and it’s Rwanda all over again. Is this country where so much is based on black vs white, there are many scary shades of black in between. So much for Pan-Africanism………..

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

The Change of Tomorrow

Is it fair to include one's partner's blog in one's own? I hope so. I have just returned home from having the knots and tension massaged and manipulated out of my neck & shoulders. While I was lying there enjoying the touch, the comfort and the release of the massage, I couldn't help but think of my beloved Glen sitting upright in economy trying to sleep while hurtling over the darkened African continent in the first leg of his journey to me. What he wrote so beautifully earlier today kept returning to me:

"Tomorrow morning, Paris; tomorrow evening, Toronto.
From the moment I touch down at Lester Pearson, at 3.45pm local time, and step out onto Canadian soil, everything changes.
Rob will be there, waiting for me. We will see and touch and hold each other, for the first time since March, for the first time after our decision, on April 11, to get married.
At that moment, this single life ends, and Rob and I will walk out of the airport side by side, beginning a much longer journey that will take us the rest of our lives, as a couple.
National identities will blur and converge, geography will dissolve, our sense of place will be permanently altered.
When I lift off tonight, from O.R. Tambo, it is the future I am travelling to."

Nothing could be more true, Glen. Tomorrow when I plan to squeeze the breath out of you once you emerge from the labyrinth of customs and baggage claim and leave the airport, side by side, as you say, and begin the new book of my life- not just a new chapter-- but a whole new book with the words "Glen, love and South Africa" in the sub-title.

Monday, July 26, 2010

On the move!

Some madness overcame me recently and I decided the living room had to be painted this summer. I’ve spent hours taking down artwork, polyfilling walls, and emptying the living room of everything except large furniture. Thank goodness I had the remaining sanity to hire Keith to do the actual painting!

When I was leaving for work the other day, I glanced around at the half-empty room and thought, “It feels like I’m moving.” And then it struck me—I am. I am moving on in my life in a big way. Change is coming fast!

When Glen steps off the plane at Pearson in less than two weeks, my life will change forever. I will marry for the second and final time in my life. We are having a small intimate wedding with a few chosen family members attending. It is exactly what we want. We will hold a big family bash in the new year for North American family and friends—but that is the least of my worries now!

It has been a summer of counting down the days: on the summer solstice, I thought. “I will marry six months from today” and then it has been the countdown to Glen’s arrival. Five months is far too long to be parted from one’s beloved. But now as his arrival draws closer, all I can think is “How am I going to get everything done before I leave for at least 6 months????” Regular doses of Bach Elm remedy will be needed to keep me balanced!

Bring in on! Thankfully Friday was my last day of work!

Sunday, May 16, 2010

BEAUTY IS EVERYTHING

I have been slogging away for 12-14 hours a day on location in Kitchener Ontario working on a reality tv series. Our production office is in an unfinished part of the building: dusty, bare studs on the walls with thick black cable snaking through to power us up. I am beyond wondering what I am doing making reality tv: I took the job knowing it was a good paycheque. This doesn’t mean I don’t give it my all during those long days and my shortened weekends filled with emergency work calls and emails. I do and I am exhausted with four more weeks of shooting to go.

This Friday, after a week of frigid temperatures and regular downpours, we went on location to the Elora Gorge, about 30 minutes from Kitchener. Obsessive weather checks told us that the day would be cloudy, but likely not rain. It was foggy when we arrived before 8am, but that soon burned off and we were in glorious sunshine! From the moment I got out of my car, the smell of damp cedars filled my every breath and I knew I had done the right thing to come on location. The leaves were the pale delicate green of spring that lasts only a very short time until the sun and chlorophyll deepens them into rich tones. The water was high in the gorge and came gushing through. It is a glorious place and I thought, “I must bring Glen here in August.” Beauty is everything.

Layers of warm clothes were peeled off and our day of having seven women, who had never rappelled, scared out of their wits, ease themselves over the edge of a 60’ cliff went smoothly and I was glad I left our grungy office behind.

Rather than hire a film caterer, I insisted we book lunch at the Elora Mill—the choice was eating food trucked from Toronto and served on utilitarian tables and chairs in the hockey arena or eat in a 150 year old restored stone mill overlooking the rushing waters of the gorge. There was no choice. Hearing the oohs and ahhs of the crew as they entered this gorgeous space made me proud of the decision I’d made. Beauty is everything.

Nights in Kitchener are spent in a faded old downtown hotel that has gone through various half-hearted attempts to spruce it up. Although I’ve stayed in $2/night hotels when backpacking through Asia, I have never found a place so depressing. I prefer to stay late at work and head back to the hotel with as little time before bed as possible. When I get home on Friday night, my bed wearing its cheerful set of pink and green polka dotted sheets feels like heaven. Beauty is everything.

As if Glen and I are not busy enough with our marriage plans, me working silly hours and he having become an independent consultant two weeks ago, the house sold this week! We agree that after the log jam of hopes and plans put on the back burner by his never ending divorce, the Universe is working in overdrive for us to catch up. Glen wrote a very touching blog about my sweat equity invested in the Emmarentia house. It talked about my attempts to bring it closer to a sense of beauty having paid off, but what it really was about was the beauty of the shared love we have created. Beauty is everything.

Monday, April 12, 2010

APRIL 11TH & SIX LITTLE WORDS

Well, If this isn't a day of note, I don't know what possibly could be. While talking on skype today, Glen apologized for not being about to bring this up in person, but explaining that he couldn't possibly wait until we see each other again in August, he simply said, "I think we should get married." I promptly burst into sobs, heartily agreed and melted into those six little words that have changed my life forever. When he said, "I love you, Baby" no words have ever rung more true in my heart. Every day of 2010 has been exciting and looks like that's not gonna change! WOO HOOO!!!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

THIS ONE'S FOR GLEN

I’ve been back in Canada one month. Why does it seem so much longer? I have been happy since my return which causes me to question my relationship. Why should I be so happy when facing a five (now four) month separation from my dear wonderful Glen. Yet, I know I am exactly where I need to be right now. Something fundamental in me has shifted—I am calmer than I have ever been doing a production job and I am facing the future full of excitement rather than fear. I need time on my own before I move into my final commitment to Glen. This is my transition time from living alone in Toronto to living in a long term committed relationship with Glen somewhere in the world. After all these years of being single, I no longer have to face life alone. I have started reading Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert and there could not be a more perfect book for me right now! Sometimes the parallels of her relationship with a foreigner cut very close to the bone.

I drove to Michigan over the Easter weekend. That long boring drive down the 401 Highway always gives me great thinking time. Without being able to tune into CBC radio along the way—when Toronto reception gets bad, it’s on to the London station and then to Windsor—the drive would be unbearable. Yet, there are also times when I turn it off and simply think. I heard a woman on the radio quote her late husband as having said. “You can say ‘I can’ or ‘I can’t’. Either is true.” Talk about words to carry me into the future!

My thoughts are scattered—little snippets of thoughts about the future—love, work, and returning to life in South Africa.. How does one reinvent oneself at age 55??? Yet, the stepping stones are falling into place: Glen is divorced (a fact that continues to sink in); we submitted Glen’s application for Canadian residency; I can get my life partner visa when I return to Joburg; the Emmarentia house is up for sale. All this upheaval makes me look forward with great happiness and expectation to CHANGE. What an exciting time!!!

Friday, March 19, 2010

EUPHORIA!

On Wednesday, deep asleep in the early morning post-daylight-savings-time darkness, I was startled awake by the phone. My first thought was, “Oh no, something’s happened to Dad.” Then, I realized that Dad’s gone—but for so long, I’d been expecting that call that it’s still programmed in me three years later.

Fortunately, this was good news. There was a sweet South African accent on the end of the line calling to say that the real estate agent, who’d just been round, is fully confident that she could sell the Emmarentia house quickly at the right price! I could hear the joy in Glen’s voice as he said, “She gets my price and I’m outta here!” EUPHORIA!! After two months of slogging awake in the cursed house, could it all be over so easily?! The news just gets better: it would pull Glen out of the debt that his divorce has left him saddled with, we don’t have to live in the house he shared with his ex and the BEST news was the agent recommended against doing the extensive repairs! She mentioned that any buyer will likely gut the house. I just hope she doesn’t show the house during one of the classic Joburg downpours. There’s no telling where the roof might spring a new leak!

Simone, the estate agent, explained that the mosque in our neighbourhood has made our area hot in a relatively slow market. Muslim families who want to settle in for the long term are anxious to buy in Emmarentia. Property values drop just a few streets further away as they are too far from the mosque. We have already seen the benefits of the Muslim influx in our little local shopping area: there’s a fantastic spice shop, a halal butcher as well as a great Turkish housewares store.

I was surprised at just how open Glen was to letting go of the house. He’ll miss his large high-ceiling office with French doors opening to the patio that overlooks the pool, but not much else. I kept saying that the house was too big for the two of us—it needs a family to fill it. Glen thought it was fine, but now that he’s been alone in it for nearly two weeks, he agrees. More importantly, Glen is very open to change. As he mentioned, selling this house coupled with applying for Canadian residency opens all sorts of possibilities for our future……

2010 has been a whirlwind thus far: we moved into the Emmarentia house in January, Glen was divorced in February, I returned to Canada in March and the house is now up for sale! I LOVE this pace!

Monday, March 8, 2010

Two Countries, Two Lives

It's 6 am in Toronto on Monday morning and I start my new production job today. The challenge: let's shoot 10 hours of television in 6 weeks. I've done it before. I'll do it again. What astonishes me, though, is how simple and easy the transition is from one corner of the planet to the other. I arrived home on Friday afternoon after flying for 20 hours, stopped to get a few groceries on my way home from the airport and-- wham!, there I was as back in Toronto as if I'd never left.Air travel still astounds me! I have always dreamed of travelling more slowly by taking a ship to cross the ocean-- spending seven days instead of seven hours to travel from North America to Europe. I have wanted to really feel the distance, to see nothing but the vast ocean for days, to do nothing but read and think of our predecessors who took a month or longetr to make the same journey.

I am so acutely aware of my two lives: Joburg is happily focused around my relationship with Glen. We do most things together from the most mundane chores and errands to the really fun stuff like travel, movies and theatre. Here in Toronto, my social life is abuzz. I have been home one weekend and have already been out for dinner twice with friends and to a beautiful and moving French film about the plight of illegal immigrants in that country entitled, Welcome. Next weekend is already booked-- a housewarming and Sunday brunch. I feel totally comfortable with both lives and both worlds. I am not sure I am able or even want to choose one over the other. Yet, I want and need BOTH-- Glen is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with yet I need the charm wit quirks and liveliness of my dear friends. Eish! Have I just seen my bi-country future?

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

We do things three times in Africa

Yesterday, the kitchen was painted for the third time and finally, it's been done right. Yet another technician arrived today to fix the lock on the security gate. The count on that on is at least 3 x 3! Full of bravado, he is sure he is the expert who can sort it out. I can overlook the ego if he can just get the damned thing to lock!

I have three workers here today-- the housecleaner, the gardener, and the painter. That also means making sure that there's food here to feed everyone-- I rely heavily on frozen meatpies, lots of bread, tea and Coke-- the workers foods of choice. Although I LOVE always having a clean bathroom and neatly ironed clothes, I do find it mildly uncomfortable when everyone is working here. What am I supposed to be doing? I'm no good at being a lady of leisure. It's a strange situation for a Canadian! Completing my part (as Sponsor) of Glen's Canadian immigration application has kept me busy until now. It taken an inordinate amount of time and that is nearly done but I can't face even looking at it today. However, it will be fantastic to get that process started!

I leave for Canada in three days and that is weighing heavily. I like to just be alone and let it all sink in but instead as soon as the Master Gate Fixer has completed his work, I will likely head out and do three errands in my little car that has been to the mechanic three times!

Sunday, February 28, 2010

WHY AM I LEAVING?

Glen wrote in his latest blog, “ Rob leaves in under a week- let me not go there right now, except to say she is leaving at exactly the wrong time (when would be the ‘right” time, I wonder?!).” He's right. Our house has just become inhabitable and the fun creative decorating is beginning. We love searching for exactly the right colour to paint the walls and our strong preferences are remarkably compatible. I splashed out and bought an exquisite raffia wall hanging from Congo that will dominate our front hall transforming what Hermon said was the most “dead” part of the house. Now when people enter our house, they will be greeted by this beautiful abstract work of art. Next to it will be a large black pot that I bought from a Swazi woman who used to sell handmade clay pots, baskets and brooms in a vacant lot in our old Parkmore neighbourhood. I regret that I didn’t buy more things from her. Maybe if we had, she would still be there.


I made a commitment to Glen that I would spend these past two months getting as much of the house sorted as possible and I have done that with great gusto. We are unpacked, settled, a zillion repairs have taken place and we are comfortable. But I also realized that in the past two months there have been literally two or three days where there was no labourer, repairman, cleaner, nor gardener working here. Many days were spent within this compound with only a dash on the bicycle to pick up food for the workers! I need to spread my wings and get reconnected to the bigger world again!


Bank accounts in both countries are depleted, so the simple economic need to work calls me back to Canada. I miss my family and friends and being away certainly teaches one to appreciate those moments of joy with smart, stimulating, witty people. I arrive back in Toronto on a Friday and we have already planned to see an award-winning French film on Sunday evening followed by Chinese food—one of my favourite cheap-and-cheerful meals out.

But there is something much deeper. Until a few weeks ago, we had lived with the underlying tension of Glen’s pending divorce. As it dragged on, it had become as much an element in our relationship as any of the wonderful aspects in our shared life. Now, after three and a half years, it is finally DONE. Glen must still deal with the on-going terrible financial toll it will take on him, but I believe he also needs to let the finality of it sink in. One can think of the whole ordeal as having begun happily almost 30 years ago when he married Eileen. They were together 25 years (the majority of them unhappy) followed by almost 5 years to settled the divorce. Now, it’s finally over. Glen is a profoundly contemplative man. I believe, as he agrees, that he needs time to make his final peace with this protracted event. Last night, we made a blazing fire in the funky old barbeque that’s part of the poolside patio, put our feet up and watched the flames. It is a ritual, usually accompanied by chocolate and 10 year old KWV brandy, that began on our camping trip in Namibia 3 years ago. Our lot is isolated enough and the trees big enough that one could almost imagine being off at some rural cabin. It gave us time to think and chat. Glen revealed that he knows he needs time to deal with the saddest part of divorce—the grief, sense of loss and personal failure. Rarely does he open up like this and I knew he was sharing something deeply private. It was an important moment in our relationship and confirmed for me that I am doing the right thing, So, I will sadly pack my bags in a few days, leaving him alone in this too big house.

But, once my contract is completed, I plan to return here. One thing I asked Glen to promise me is that after this 5 month separation that we will NEVER have a separation this long again. That will be what we will solve when I return.

And, heck, the roof won’t be leaking by then and the veranda walls won’t be falling down. It will be a great place to return to and, most importantly, Glen will be here to greet me.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

WHAT WE KEEP LOCKED INSIDE

I haven’t blogged for a while as I kept thinking, How much more do people want to hear about things breaking down in this house? Is it of interest to know hat I have been chasing the insurance company for a week to replace the kitchen ceiling that seems to sag just a little lower each day? (They are to arrive tomorrow and then must repaint the walls freshly painted the day BEFORE the geyser flood.) Who cares that the ridiculously expensive gate lock STILL doesn’t work? Do you want to know how I communicate with the African house painter who only speaks Afrikaans?

The real stuff of life here is the difference between what happens in within the electric fence topped walls of our now comfy home (despite it faults and damage) and what occurs outside them. When the geyser installers let the waterfall cascade through the ceiling, I went to turn off the water main which is located OUTSIDE our walls—couldn’t do it as both the lid and handle had been stolen by the guys who collect scrap metal.

Almost daily, strangers ring the intercom, located outside the front security gate, asking for food, money or clothing. This always throws my bleeding liberal heart into a dilemma. Yesterday, I tried a new approach—when a fellow buzzed asking for money, I asked him “Are you willing to do some work for it?’ He agreed. I asked him to simply sweep the leaves off the driveway—that is, the driveway located OUTSIDE the gates as it is too risky to let strangers into the compound. When I passed him the broom though the fence, he proudly announced that he had an ID document—meaning that he was legal in the country. I am of the “Don’t ask. Don’t tell.” school when it comes to legality in the country as I am barely legal here myself! Also, I am so aware of how people from poorer African countries flood into South Africa with its relative prosperity.

Yet, I wonder was I wrong to ask him to do a bit of work? Should one give simply for the sake of giving? But, I know I gave him more because he was willing to do a simple task for me. It seemed to me to put us on a more equal footing—you do this for me and I’ll do that for you rather than him just begging for money.

Emmarentia, where we live, is a well established middle-class suburb. One could be in almost any middle class suburb anywhere in the world. I love when other cultural elements of this country bump up against us. Nearly daily, there is an older African woman who pushes a very heavy battered shopping cart up our street calling “Meeeeeeeeee”. She’s selling “mielies” which looks like feed corn to me—it’s a staple in the Africam community and one often sees people roasting them in metal drums on the side of the road. It reminds me of when we were shooting an exterior scene for Jozi-H and the director wanted a mielie seller on the side of the road to add authenticity. Well, as the Props Department searched in vain for mielies, all of us whiteys discovered they were out of season! Talk about a culture gap!

South Africa is a country of locks and security—as Glen is quick to point out, security is the number one employer in the private sector. The extent of locks in this place amazes me. We have a BOX of keys that his ex-wife left us, most of which we have no idea what they are! Every room has a lock, closets have locks, many of our windows have individual keys to lock them—but the lock that amazed me the most when I first came to South Africa is the fridge! The fridge and freezer compartments each have locks. We have no idea where they keys are for ours, but just the fact that they are manufactured this way astonishes me. The locks say it all—distrust of one’s domestic workers versus hunger, need and possibly resentment on the part of the domestic workers. Our own fridge reminds me of the inequality in this country.


Glen also has a blog and I have been remiss in letting you know about it. Check it out at:
http://glenchristopher.wordpress.com/2010/01/14/life-begins-at-56/

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

I CAN'T BLOG FAST ENOUGH!

I did mention that geezer in the last blog…….. Well, the insurance company authorized a replacement and the fellows showed up yesterday. Once they were underway, I headed to the nearby paint store to sort out a mistint (Oh Paint Colours Unlimited, I miss you!). I returned home 20 minutes later to hear our normally calm cleaner yelling at the workers in the attic. Niagara Falls was gushing through through the ceiling flooding the kitchen!

The workers acted as if this was perfectly normal occurrence and what were we so concerned about? I called the company doing the repairs and noticed on their business card that immediately after “plumbing services”, they listed “ceiling repairs”. Mmmhhhh…. well, we’ve had the estimator from the company here, the insurance adjuster showed up and in the middle of it all the fellow who’s been trying to repair the security gate for the past two weeks arrived. And I wonder why I can’t get out beyond these walls most days!

The conclusion is that the ceiling will be pulled down and repaired and the kitchen walls (painted yesterday!) will be repainted! EISH!

ON the up side, we have been cooking away and I made the most simple and DIVINE dessert the other night. Figs are in season—I baked fresh figs with red wine and cardamom. Two cardamom pods gave it such incredible flavour—beee-u-tiful! But it’s not just figs in season, since it’s summer and most fruits are grown here in SA, we get the most wonderful produce: incredible white nectarines, delicate asparagus, aromatic mangoes—in fact, it’ll be ginger mango salsa with the chicken tonight.

THAT WAS YESTERDAY.

This morning was off to a great start—Oliver, the gardener from Zim showed up. We were so relieved! The garden is so big, I just don’t know where to begin, so Oliver simply decides what to do with it and runs with it and he’s good. What a relief! Found a great hair salon right in Emmarentia. The guys at the paint store replaced the mistint without charge. I was on a roll.

And then the plumber showed up. We have a shiny new geezer and barely tepid water this morning. We called and asked then to come and adjust the thermostat. And what did they do? Disconnect the power!! I only discovered later that the power is now out in the kitchen. Numerous calls. It’s 4pm and no sign of the electricans….

Oh yeah and that magnetic lock that we’d been waiting for for two weeks that was installed yesterday. It fell off the gate this morning. maybe there's a message here that were ignoring....

But, damn, my hair looks great!

Monday, February 15, 2010

THE SWEET SCENT OF SMOKE STILL LINGERS.....

The scent of sweet smoke still lingers in our house from Hermon, the sangoma’s, visits. It is especially strong in certain cupboards and the pungent, but pleasant smell, reminds me of what we’re trying to do here—that is, move on from what this house once was to a place that is our own. All the challenges, both physical and emotional, can make the road a little bumpy at times. Fortunately, we are each equipped with steel belted radials to smooth those bumps as much as we can.

Hermon’s take on the “vibe” of the house was interesting and I think very accurate—he said it wasn’t filled with negativity, but felt very dead and dormant. I thought. “It’s true—this is a house where love died and where honesty and creativity and even basic maintenance all went dormant.” His rituals were intended to clear out the past and make room for all good things to enter while covering the house is a protective dome of light. Hermon reminded us to bless whatever passed through this house in letting go of it.

He did make an interesting comment about our bedroom—he said it needed very little work. We had brought light and fresh air into that room ourselves and made it a place, as he termed it, full compassion and passion. What more could one hope for? This was especially interesting to me as I wanted us to have a different bedroom from the one Glen shared with Eileen. Quite frankly, moving into the same bedroom creeped me right out! But there is one very LARGE bedroom in this house with an en suite and a weird little attached dressing room. The two other bedrooms are teeny, so there really was no choice of what room should be ours—and it is HUGE with LOTS of light and over looks the back garden. Although the furnishings are spartan, we have made it our own so Hermon’s comments rang true.

Speaking of gardens, our new gardener quit on Saturday. He is a knowledgeable older fellow, so I was worried about him feeling overwhelmed at our large unruly garden. I kept saying, “Don’t get overwhelmed. Just focus one small section at a time.” But, alas, it was too much! He arrived with his son, also an experienced gardener, who will be replacing him. The new gardener worked like a demon and now we are afraid he won’t show up next week! I never understand why Africans are thought of as lazy—all the ones we have hired have worked incredibly hard for modest fees. Racism is well preserved in South Africa. The gardening family, Joseph and his son, Oliver, are from Zimbabwe or “Zim” as it’s called here. South Africans shorten all words when possible—for example a swimsuit, which they call a “bathing costume” is a “cossie” and “flip flops”, called “slip slops” is shortened to “slops”.

I return from that sidebar—what I wanted to talk about is more serious—the difference between Black South Africans and those from Zim or other African countries. The people from Zim I have met are easy to chat with (even though they struggle a bit with my accent.) One gets the feeling that we speak as equals, pure and simple, and just as it should be. They are doing their job and simply getting on with things. Encounters with Black South Africans can be distinctly different. Glen and I have a game we play when we are out for dinner—I always know when the waitron (yep! that’s the gender non-specific word they use here!) is NOT South African and I have taken to asking them “Where are you from?” I am almost always right. People from Zim and other parts of Africa are confident and at ease with white customers. They chat in that friendly waiterly way. With South African waitrons, there is always a strong and distinct discomfort--- there is a formality that comes across almost as fear—no friendly banter or chitchat. Just, “Yes, Sir” “No, M’am”—it is, of course, the legacy of apartheid—the separation lives on and will take many more decades to change.

The Emmarentia house saga continues—but I am slowly becoming to accustomed to the things keep breaking down. We had electricians here for 4 days rewiring half the house as well as replacing the security system in the aftermath of the cable theft. Today, we noticed a LARGE wet spot on the kitchen ceiling. The geyser is leaking! Let me explain, the “geyser” (pronounced “geezer”!) is the hot water tank and is located places that a Canadian would find distinctly odd. In Glen’s apartment, it was mounted on the wall despite being a full-size tank like the ones we are accustomed to in the True North. In this house, it is located in the attic! Because we suspect there are rats up there, neither of us is brave enough to go up there and inspect. Fortunately, Glen tells me that geezer problems are always insurance claims, so back to the insurance company! EISH! I guess the dome of protective light doesn't extend to geezers hidden in dark attics!

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

HERMON, THE SANGOMA

Yesterday, our sangoma, Hermon, arrived for the first of three visits. Although we had met previously, I still wasn’t quite sure what was going to happen. Hermon arrived with a basket of what he needed—sage, lavender, candles, bells. He set up using the elevated base of our living room fireplace as his staging area. What struck me was how totally unpretentious he was about his work—he asked me what I’d be doing while he began his cleansing and I said I’d be cooking to which he replied “Good.” And then he simply began.

While I was in the kitchen and he rang a small bell several times and it immediately awakened the long lapsed Catholic in me—the one that still recalls the ritual and formality of the latin mass. And before I realized what I was thinking, I was saying to myself, “Now this house is full of LIFE.”

Although he told us he would be in a very focused state, we also spoke freely when were in the same room--- no trance-like thing happening here-- he is a very down to earth about what he does! As he slowly made his way through the house, he would close windows to focus the energy. Using incense and burning sage and lavender, he used the smoke to cleanse—the house was filled with a intense and totally pleasurable smoky scent that still remains.

Hermon asked me to make notes for him of what I wanted this house cleansing ceremony to achieve and this is some of what I wrote:

What do I ask of your work, Hermon?

I ask that you clear the energy of this house—you clear the strife, anger and depression that lived within these walls for too long. I want this place to be a HOUSE OF LOVE. Glen was just divorced a few days ago after years of patient struggle and moving into this house just over two weeks ago is a new phase in our happy relationship—not just a new chapter, but a whole new BOOK. I want this house to be a place where love can grow and where our relationship can continue to develop—may our growth never stop. May it be a place where we forgive and bless the past and welcome each new day with love.

This house has a history of break-ins and I hope it will become a safe place for us to live. As I split my time between Canada & South Africa, I hope that Glen will be able to live safely here alone.

I look forward to his return today.

Monday, February 8, 2010

EVERYTHING IN SOUTH AFRICA TAKES LONGER

Everything in South Africa takes longer. When will I learn this? When will I accept this? The simplest things, like changing a flight, can drive one around the bend with frustration. I have been trying to change my flight back to Toronto since last Wednesday so that I cane return to take a job in March. Impossible. I spent two hours on the phone this morning with South African Airways, Lufthansa, Air Canada and two offices of the Flight Centre. Nothing, Nada. I have emailed the Flight Centre in Toronto hoping they can manage what no one is South Africa seems capable of fixing.

On the UP side, Glen and I had a wonderful low key celebratory weekend. Celebrating a divorce is not quite the same as celebrating a marriage—there is no specific event, no gathering, no ritual (although I think the sangoma will help with the latter). The aftermath of a divorce is slow—it must seep in. After waiting all these years, it will take time to realize that it’s really over and that a new book in our lives begins. All ‘round, it’s a fine feeling.

How do Rob & Glen celebrate? Well, we cook! Friday evening started with breaking open that well-chilled bottle of Moet & Chandon. It went down very easily after which I was in no state to cook. Glen took charge with great panache—he brought home king prawns (imported from Mozambique) and sauteed them with chili, lemon & garlic. Divine. I was back up to the task on Saturday night and made my ostrich fillets—the BEST ostrich I have ever tasted and everyone who eats them agrees. I did everything on the braii (BBQ)—grilled asparagus, marinated ostrich and for dessert, grilled pineapple drizzled with a sauce flavoured with fresh mint. As much as I might bitch about Glen’s ex, she did leave us a beautiful healthy patch of fragrant mint! Sunday night and dinner was back to Glen—a risotto made with a combination of dried and fresh mushrooms. Food is life. Food is love.

Sunday afternoon I was antsy to get out and we drove about an hour outside of town to a funky little bush pub with excellent beer and an outdoor pizza oven and relaxed as chickens and geese wandered amongst the tables under the trees. We chatted about all those endlessly impossible to resolve life-changing matters like where do we live? How do we manage to live in two countries? What’s the next step after this job back in Toronto? These things seem impossible to resolve, so we talk and and let things sink in and eventually the next step emerges on its own. It is a technique born of our personalities and how our brains work and it serves us well. There are many things to be grateful for in this truly happy relationship with Glen.

Like I said, everything in South Africa takes longer.

Friday, February 5, 2010

DEEEEEEEE - VORCED!!!

I have known my wonderful partner, Glen for three and a half years and just a few hours ago, some unnamed judge in a South African court here in Joburg proclaimed him DIVORCED! It only took four and a half years, but it's DONE!! WOOO HOO! I can't wait for him to get home-- LET THE CELEBRATIONS BEGIN!!!

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

THE SUN IS SHINING IN JOZI

I'll admit I've been more than a little cranky with getting a house sorted that was left in ruins by one's partner's ex, but 8 bins (4 of them "supersize") of garden waste have been hauled away and we are unpacked and settled in. The insurance company is sending electricians tomorrow to start the massive rewiring job (post meltdown) and our security system should be operational by Monday. The roof still leaks, the gutters are still falling down, the rats are still in the attic, the bathroom still floods when it rains, the tv and satellite tv receiver are still fried, but the sun is SHINING. It has rained daily for WEEKS-- in that special Jozi-deluge-always-accompanied-by massive-thunder-and-lightning-way. Things are just BETTER today. Let me tell you a GOOD thing about this house: there is a small but lush lemon tree right outside the kitchen doors. The lemons are small and not very pretty, but the scent when one cuts one open is heavenly-- supersaturated lemon-- not of the dishsoap variety. They gush with juiciness-- what a treat for a northern gal like me! I am tickled every time I need a lemon and can just pop outside and pick one off our tree.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

CABLE THEFT

Since the "blast in the night" one week ago, we have been without power replaced more recently by partial power. The cause of this: cable theft. Organized gangs steal high voltage wires - a highly dangerous undertaking. Glen suspects that the cable is then shipped to other countries in southern Africa. We've learned from our neighbours that this has happened repeatedly in our neighbourhood. All of our security systems, including the house alarm, electric fence, remote gate opener, are fried. First it was a battle with the city to get power restored and now we are gearing up for a battle with the insurance company to get all of this replaced! As they say here-- EISH!!! I have always maintained that Joburg has the veneer of the first world and this just reinforces that belief.

On the upside, we met with a lovely sangoma last night and he will begin his 3 day cleanse of our home one week from today. Just meeting him was uplifting-- I look forward to having all the spirits of the past out of this house!

Sunday, January 31, 2010

THINGS THAT GO "POP" IN THE NIGHT

27 January 2010

Last night was Night #4 in the Emmarentia house. At the best of times, I always have a slight un-ease at living here in Joburg. We have a nightime ritual of checking all the windows, locks & security gates and before getting into bed we close the “rape gate” (yep, that ‘s what it’s called) & arm the alarm system for the bedroom wing of the house. We have been working so hard on this place that we fell into a deep deep sleep immediately. At about 1:30 am, there was a huge pop in the bedroom, a flash & that acrid electrical burning smell. Simultaneously, the floodlight that illuminates the yard (which neither of us know how to turn on) came on. We nearly jumped out of our skins. Glen, in true South African mode, was out of bed in a nano-second with the maxi mag light he keeps next to our bed—looking out into the yard to see what was going on. Moments later, our tenant phoned to say he’d had a large pop and flash too. The source of it seems to have been the power box or transformer for the house security system which we have just had upgraded at great expense. The security company was called and arrived in seconds just to inspect the property. The security guard knows the place and remarked on how much improved the place was because of all the work on the garden. It appears to have been some electrical, not burglar, problem. This morning we are without power and Glen is trying to get this sorted with the insurance company. As Glen admits, it’s that damn spirit of Eileen haunting us--- as I write, he is contacting a sangoma (traditional African healer) to clear out those evil spirits…….

THE BIG MOVE

25 January 2010

This past weekend we moved into Glen, my partner’s house in the leafy older Johannesburg neighbourhood called Emmarentia. Honestly, it is the last place I would choose to live in a city I would rather not live in. However, due to the circumstances of our lives, it is where we must be for the moment at least. The house was vacated only a few weeks ago by Glen’s ex-wife. Yes! After four and a half years, she has finally signed the divorce. The final proclamation will be on February 5th and the Moet is already chilling. Talk about a new era in our relationship—the entire time I have known Glen, he has been trying to get divorced and now in this post-divorce era, we start a life in the house just vacated by his ex-wife and who left it in a completely uninhabitable state. Eileen, I hope I never meet you, so I will write here what I want to say, “Thank your daughter, Eve, who hauled out 9 huge boxes of your stuff left strewn on the floors in this house including used pantyhose and discarded bras. On my first visit here, I thought the place had been occupied by squatters! Eve brought in a team of cleaners to scrub the place top to bottom—a necessity as our regular cleaner (who had worked at this house once) had refused to come here saying ‘That house is so filthy that I promised myself would never return!’ And, Eileen, when you want to get rid of items that no longer work such as a Cuisinart, popcorn popper, dustbuster as well as broken furniture, please put them in the garbage rather than dumping them in the yard. Also, expensive garden clippers and items like shop vacs no longer work after having been left out in the rain. And if you’re looking for that croc pot, the one that sat out so long on the back deck that we found it filled with green slime, I threw it out. And if you want to get revenge on your husband, just chuck stuff he left in the house into the trash. Those carousels of slides of his that you put out in the back garden have been out there so long the boxes have dissolved. Mrs. F, how can anyone live like this? Every contractor I had come in to quote on repairs has asked, ‘How long has this house been abandoned?’ They, nor I, can believe that someone can live like this! You are the biggest slob I have ever come across and I resent that we were left to clean out the detritus of your filthy fucked up depressed life!”

Whew. I feel better now.

Check this blog for further adventures of the Emmarentia house including rats in the attic, turning the yard (our own little nature reserve) back in to a pleasant garden and pumping out the swimming pool-cum-swamp that makes me believe we should be taking anti-malarials!