Dear Diary

September 12, 2015September 12, 2015 11 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Handwritten.”

A personal diary can only be written by hand. I’ve kept a diary since I was thirteen. Though admittedly I hardly write in them now. I’ve kept most of them but one. I destroyed my ‘first kiss’ diary because it was way too personal and I never wanted anyone else to read it.
Apart from that most of my writing is on one of my two laptops (I have my own Mac, and a work laptop), and my iPhone. I did a year of typing at school so can fortunately touch-type, one of the more practical skills I learnt at school.
My handwriting is a scribble, I think only I can read it! I used to have a very neat handwriting but typing has really left it’s mark on my ability to write neatly. Which may come in handy if anyone stumbles across my diaries, they may not be able to decipher my words. Ha!

Central Perk

September 11, 2015September 11, 2015 6 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Worlds Colliding.”

I love reading autobiographies. My two favorites are Frank McCourt’s Angela’s Ashes and Peter Godwin’s Mukiwa. Both books were about their childhoods and growing up, one in Ireland and one in Rhodesia that is now known as Zimbabwe. And coincidentally, both of them relocated to New York after publishing their books. So that makes sense, I could have them meet up for a coffee or drink, and discuss their great fortunes at hitting the autobiography jackpot. Entirely possible and they wouldn’t have to travel far to do so. Except sadly Frank McCourt had since passed away, so perhaps we would need a time machine.

Glossy Veneer

September 10, 2015Vonita 7 Comments

He’s no Romeo
My desires betray
The brutal reality
Of the truth behind
The glossy veneer
I’m torn in two
Wanting, needing
My fantasies to be true
But there is no truth
Only a bitter lie
And a bitter pill
For me to consume

Retrospectively Funny

September 10, 2015September 10, 2015 16 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Retrospectively Funny.”

Being serenaded on arrival at the airport

I forgot about a fresh apple in my bag as we went through customs on our Castaway Island holiday. So after receiving a customs fine, and not having enough cash on hand to pay it, I quickly went to the nearest atm in sight to withdraw money. But, being in a panic at being stopped at customs I completely forgot my pin. Total mind blank. And after the first failed attempt I was too nervous to do another one in case my pin got blocked. My husband had already withdrawn his daily limit.
It was agreed that I could pay the fine when I returned to the airport which would be in 8 days time. However, the fine clearly stated it needed to be paid in 7 days failing which you would have to appear in the magistrates court at a set time.
At the airport the following Saturday we went to pay the fine. At the security office I noticed there was an envelope with my name on it. Why was there an envelope with my name on it? We paid and went to go through passport control. Only to find out my passport was blocked. Do not allow to leave the country. My heart started racing. We were ushered into an office and told to wait. From the window I could see the airplane and there wasn’t much time before it started to board. No-one seemed to want to make a decision on my passport, and being a Saturday made it worse with decision-makers not being at work etc. I was entertaining visions of missing my flight, and being held back to appear in a magistrates office, and being alone in a foreign country etc, my mind raced ahead and my heart was beating so fast I felt like I was going to have a heart-attack there and then. Please let me go! After what felt like an eternity an official came into the room, interviewed a very nervous me, eventually stamped my passport, and said I could go! Still in time for the flight home.

This Song is Forever

September 9, 2015September 9, 2015Vonita 11 Comments

I listened to this song nearly every day on the way to work three years ago. The Parlotones are one of the bands that remind me of ‘home’. I listened to it again this evening, and the words take me right back to 2012 and my life experience at the time. I hope you enjoy it! ❤

Bliss

September 9, 2015September 9, 2015Vonita 2 Comments

Bliss is a hammock
Keeping the wide blue ocean
And me company

Castaway Island

September 9, 2015September 9, 2015 5 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Young and the Rested.”

A few years ago we vacationed on Castaway Island in Fiji. For anyone who has seen the Tom Hanks movie Castaway, Castaway Island is in the same group of islands as to where the movie was shot (day trips are also offered to that specific island). Spending a few days on Castaway Island was like spending a few days in a tropical island heaven. No cars, all food prepared, water, snorkeling, sun, sand. And not forgetting the very friendly Pacific Islanders. Bula!

http://castawayfiji.com

Growing up in South Africa

September 7, 2015Vonita 11 Comments

Yesterday I updated a post to include a school photograph taken when I was eight. I was taken aback at the few things that stood out for me. I have written before about how unhappy I was at moving to a new school, and right before me was the evidence. It looks like I was scowling, and turned away from the camera as if I didn’t want to be there (which I didn’t).
Also, the other thing that seemed so normal to me at the time was the demographics of the class. I was brought up in the height of apartheid-era South Africa, and captured in the photograph was a testament to that. My children in Australia attend the local public school, and in their class they have children of all races.
I became especially aware of the politics of the country when I went to a convent at the age of 13, which was allowed by the State to include children of all races. My best friend turned out to be of dark skin, and we became the best of friends. This was from the year 1987, when apartheid was still strictly enforced. My friend was not allowed to catch the same bus as me. We were not allowed to have coffee in a coffee-shop together. But we looked past all that, and enjoyed the friendship that we had. It was just how it was. We are still friends today, even though I am so far away. What it taught me is that friendship is color-blind. Policies can dictate, but love overrules.

Bowl-Licking Good

September 7, 2015September 7, 2015 6 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Mouth Drop.”

My jaw dropped on the evening I gave my husband-to-be a bowl of ice-cream, and he enjoyed it so much he licked the bowl (we were still in the getting-to-know-each-other phase). And then all was explained when we visited his mother a few days later (bless her!), and she did the same! I was so shocked and horrified I couldn’t stop laughing, and I’ve never seen them do that again. It’s a big joke now between my husband and I.

How good is this ice-cream? Bowl-licking good? bwahahahahaha 🙂