Bully

February 4, 2017February 4, 2017Vonita 18 Comments

A few years ago we decided to make our transition to Australia official, and we accepted Australian citizenship. We are now Australian. We are able to sing the anthem with pride and ownership. Our prime minister, for all his faults, is Malcolm Turnbull. Not Trumbull. Not Trunbull. Turnbull. Maybe Trump and co liked the matching pattern of ‘Trum’ even though it is not a matching pattern at all. Turnbull is not perfect, and Australia is not perfect, but it is a good place to live in. The benefits far outweigh the negatives. The people are relatively friendly, there are no wars, it is safe, we have fresh food, lamingtons, shelter, work, and also, in general, there is courtesy. We wait in queues if we have to. We make way if we have to. We are protected by anti-bullying and harassment laws.

Which means the brash and disrespectful tone of other leaders towards our own leader hits hard. It leaves a bad taste in one’s mouth. It is unnecessary and uncalled for. It is bullying behavior.

And it saddens me. For many of my WordPress friends are from the US. Good, kind people that have been lovely towards me. That I now count as friends. I feel really warm towards this wonderful, caring community.

We had the opportunity to vacation in the beautiful state of California. One of the first sights one sees upon entry into the United States is a flag, as well as framed photograph of POTUS. For us it was a smiling photo of Obama. I’m not across the policies that he had, but as a person he seemed like a decent human being. Courteous, respectful towards his wife, calm, considered etc. Not a bully.

Our vacation timing worked out well. Otherwise we would now be facing a four year wait, at the very least.

#iamwitharnold

#arnoldforpotus

Passing Days

January 18, 2017Vonita 4 Comments

Feelings are fickle. Moods and emotions are high-maintenance. I’ve started this year with a new resolution. To focus on growing. Learning and creating. So now when my pain points are pressed (salt in all my wounds), which happens often, I am acknowledging it, respecting the life within, and letting it go.
We have only so many days in our lives. Each passing day is one less to live. But for today, we are alive, we are breathing, we are aware. Peace be to you.

9301589v

January 16, 2017Vonita 2 Comments

I was so hot this afternoon, went and relaxed on my bed, and was in that space of being not awake, and not asleep. I’ve started an online course so have been working on that, and feeling somewhat like a student. In my dream-like state a string of numbers popped into my head. 9301589 and yes, followed by a V. Really? It’s now 2017, 1993 is so far away. Could it be that? And again the numbers echoed. 9301589v. I had to confirm for myself.

I felt like a student this morning, so my subconscious handily recalled my student number for me. Helpful as!

Seems there are some things we may never forget.

Being a Woman

January 11, 2017Vonita 15 Comments

My first day back to work and on the bus and so many long-sleeved shirts and long pants and ties, and I am in my favorite designer skirt and new top I bought with my long service voucher and heels and perfume and soft skin and hair in place and suddenly it pops into my head

it is wonderful being a woman

An Old Friend

January 9, 2017Vonita 8 Comments

I met up recently with an old friend. We last saw each other seventeen years ago. And when I saw her again, I immediately recognized who she was. I recognized her mannerisms, her voice, her personality, her way of being. What I realized is, we remember. Throughout our life we connect with others. And they imprint themselves on us, and we on them. What impressions do we want to leave? How will we be remembered?

How do we want to be remembered?

My Name is Vonita

December 31, 2016December 31, 2016Vonita 17 Comments

I had the wonderful fortune of landing a part time job in my last year of school. I worked four hours on a Saturday morning for a local optometrist. Technically, I was not the best candidate as the receptionist position required the person to be bilingual (English and Afrikaans). In those days towards the end of apartheid South Africa, there were many people who spoke Afrikaans and Afrikaans only. Whilst I can certainly understand Afrikaans being spoken and can hold a basic conversation kindergarten level, I can hardly say I am fluent (or even sound half-normal speaking it). But good fortune prevailed and I got the job. As an aside, it was a life-saver. The four hours per week paid well, and covered all my university pocket money expenses, driving lessons, and part of my last years tuition. Without taking focus away from my studies.

The optometrist was a tall man. He also lectured at the local university. At that stage I attended a convent, had minimal male interaction (at all), and found him totally, completely intimidating. Being a man and all. And a big, tall, older one at that. And an important one. His wife ran the practice and she was the one who hired me. She was lovely. Grace personified. One of my duties was to make hot black tea, and lemon, and serve it to her husband in his office. I must have appeared as a timid little mouse. I hardly said a word to him, would deliver the tea and escape. One day I spilt the tea in the saucer. It happened just as I was about to place it down. I didn’t know what to do. I placed it down. He kindly gave it back to me and told me to bring a new one. The tea would would drip on his desk and papers and he couldn’t have that. I apologized, took the cup and saucer and returned with a new one. Unspilt. Dry saucer. Yay! (And I never made that same mistake).

I must have been working there for a good few months. One morning I took the tea into his office. He thanked me, but addressed me with the wrong name. Thank you, Michelle. Michelle was the person who worked there previously. In that moment, I managed to rise above my feelings of intimidation, and overcome my shyness. I thought to myself, just say welcome. Easy, then leave, exit the office. Instead I replied

You’re welcome.

And.

My name is Vonita.

Christmas Memories

December 24, 2016Vonita 13 Comments

Memories are made up of times and places. People and faces. Gifts and giving.

I think back to a few of my Christmas’s and can recall where I spent them and with whom. Also marked by a few significant gifts received.

Here are a few that come to mind!

Aged 4 – Receiving my first-love doll (from my paternal grandparents)
Aged 5 – Old-fashioned radio from Santa

Aged 6- Red bicycle with a coin taped on it’s seat (it got stolen later on)

Aged 9 – Puzzle from my aunt in a triangle box

Aged 10 – Walkmans with boney m

Aged 13 – chocolate boxes from grandparents, and George Michael singing you’ve got to have Faith

Aged 20 – Receiving a necklace and mug from my polish boyfriend that now holds all our leftover coins (the year I was so in love, bless him) (also stolen)

Aged 22 – Gold cross from my father, the year my mother passed away (stolen)

Aged 36 – a silver necklace from my husband, the only piece of jewelry gifted to me from him (apart from my wedding rings)

Aged 37 – Pandora necklace from my sister, the year she spent Christmas in Sydney with us

Aged 41 – Book I’m still busy reading, All the light we cannot see

Dead Doors

December 12, 2016December 12, 2016Vonita 8 Comments

Dead doors

Lead to dead paths

So I am closing all those doors

That keep me from being free

I have faith that

A vibrant door

Will open and

Beckon me

Through

Fighting Depression

December 10, 2016Vonita 30 Comments

Well, I’m not doing a very good job at fighting it. Always seem to wake up in a low mood, and stay in a low mood. I miss people and interaction. Extended family. My sister, nieces, my mother-in-law who passed but I still miss chatting to her, school friends, old friends who have moved away.

I used to love visiting my mother-in-law and staying the night. She was very easy to chat to. I used to wonder who will I chat to when she is no longer here.

I feel jealousy over a friend who moved to Sydney, and automatically included in a few social circles. My longing for social interaction is so strong. My low moods and awkward social skills probably don’t help. I have bad habits. Like staring at people, sometimes I fixate on something, and don’t realize I’m staring at that person. It happened the other day at the office. There were two people chatting beside me and I looked over at one of them. I didn’t realize I was staring until she called me out on it. I’m sorry, she said, are we talking too loud? Um, no. I turned back to my computer.

Anyway, I guess it is the season where many people feel some loss.