Tag writing

My Purpose in Life

Vonita 15 Comments

When I was a child, I used to dream of being a mother and having babies. In high school I dreamt of getting high grades, and put as much effort as I could to do as well as I could. But my career ambitions seemed to stop at that point. I wanted a job in which I could earn enough to support myself, and give me something to do. And not be bored out of my mind. (I was granted that wish!). But that was about the extent of my career ambitions. My head was too much in *romance*. I went to a convent and had zero interaction with males. No joke. I never knew any my age. At fifteen I kissed a boy at a school disco. I had only just met him that night. My mother found out (because *somebody* told her), and it was awful being lectured by her. No kissing boys you don’t know. No kissing boys! (Can I go now?). Alas, I never heard from the lucky guy again. Though I dreamt and prayed that he would call. He had memorised my number after all. Oh, the perils of convent life.

When I was all of 24 and single I was asked the question what do I dream about for my career. I could only reply by saying I dream about getting married to a good man, and having children. I do not dream about careers. (Hmm, CLM (career limiting move) much?) It took a couple more years.

And now, I love being around my children. One aspect of my mothering skills is that I do not and have never patronized them. I do not fuss. I always treated my children with respect. The sooner they could do things for themselves and take responsibility, the better. They are both great kids. Loving, respectful, responsible, easy to be around.

Nowadays when I dream about my future, I dream about writing to my heart’s content, doing Pilates at my local gym on weekday mornings, grandkids in some distant future, spending time with my BFF, and just being me. Not the me that struggles with everything everyday. Always feeling manic and out of control.

I would love to travel to a few places. The U.S., see my family in South Africa again, Canadian rocky mountains, Europe etc!

And I still dream about romance.

Inspired by the following post:
The What For

Snapshot Stories

25 Comments

image

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

A few years ago I was invited to a ’50s Glamour party for a friend’s 40th birthday. My friend was a South African living in Sydney for a few years. We had been friends in South Africa a long time ago. The dress I wore was bought in Johannesburg in December 2000. The party was lovely. That particular friend has the most warm, lovely friendly disposition. She now lives in Cape Town.

Toy Story

5 Comments

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

image

My favorite toy was a doll my maternal grandmother sent to me from Cape Town. It arrived in a box complete with knitted clothes and bonnet. In Afrikaans they have a lovely word for bonnet – “koppie kappie”. Which directly translated reads a small head covering. It is one of a few items I have kept from my childhood. She is now under my daughter’s protective care.

There is a little musical box embedded into her at the back. A tiny record fitted into it and would play some music. One day the neighborhood boys grabbed my doll and ripped the record out. I remember two of their names. Ryan and Brendan. You have been shamed! I must have been five or younger, as we were living in a house and after that we moved to an apartment. I was five when I broke my collarbone and that happened when I was in the apartment.

Introducing myself to the world

Vonita 5 Comments

A voice against drugs, from someone who is paying the price. If any readers recall my 72 Hour post and Execution Night, please do support this soul in his writing.

Tan-Nguyen's avatartannguyen

I felt that there was something I had forgotten to do. I was reading the blogs of others and I realised that they all had introduced themselves. Well here is mine. Sorry for the lateness.

My name is Tan Duc Thanh Nguyen. Hmm. It’s a complicated introduction to make. Mainly because I am not meant to let it be known I have accessed online. And secondly, how to say I am in jail, serving out a life sentence in a foreign country. Well that wasn’t so awkward. It was really really weird. In April 29th of this year, two Australians were executed by firing squad. It has been haunting me ever since.

Our crime was attempting to smuggler drugs from some country back home. We got arrested. Ten years later, the executions took place. It was something I thought wouldn’t happen, but it did. I know that I had committed…

View original post 378 more words

Passion Through Poetry

2 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “All About Me.”

My blog was originally Moving Towards The Light, based on my very first poem The Light. After a couple of months of initial blogging, I ran out of ideas and inspiration and my blog became dormant.
I resurrected it a few months later when my mood dropped and I needed to write. It was at the same time that Robin Williams passed away and I watched Dead Poets Society. In one scene he tells his students – we have poetry in us because we have passion. These words kept on repeating in my mind. I have poetry in me because I have passion. Passion, poetry, poetry, passion. Passion through Poetry.

I’ve included my initial gravatar. My aunt created it for me based on a king protea photograph.
It was edited to form the cover of my personal edition book.

20141021-232908.jpg

My Dad

Vonita 12 Comments

image

My father loves to give gifts. It is one of his love languages. We always knew that we would be spoilt at Christmas time if my father had anything to do with it. My grandmother used to tell us a story that when he was a small boy he only had a few coins, but went off on his own to the local store. On Christmas Day he presented both his parents with a gift. His father was presented with a handy light bulb and she received a tin of peas. The last gift I received from my father was a perfume for my birthday last year. I don’t see him very often now as he lives in Johannesburg.
My parents were on holiday in the UK when my mother passed away. They were to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary that year. He had to endure a long haul flight back home without his wife.
On Sunday mornings my dad used to play his music and cook breakfast.
I miss those mornings and the sometimes happy family times we shared.

Following Blogs

Vonita 18 Comments

image

I love reading poetry, and other blogs!

Sometimes when I’m scrolling down my reader I notice blogs I usually follow and read. But! The follow button is highlighted, meaning that I am not following that blog. Perhaps I unfollowed accidentally when scrolling, or maybe it’s just some quirky WordPress thing. So I refollow the blog. If any bloggers have noticed my re-follows it is not because I have unfollowed your blog deliberately, but merely rectifying a less than satisfying state I find my reader to be in!

❤

If You Are A Quote Lover – Day 2

Vonita 15 Comments

I’ve been nominated by my dear friend Mark to participate in the Quote Lovers challenge so have decided to give it a go. Mark has an amazing, upbeat spirit and can be found here:

If You Are a Quote Lover, Day Two

Here are the rules:

Post your three favorite quotes, one each for three consecutive days.

With each post nominate three bloggers for the challenge.

Recognize the blogger who nominated you.

I’m taking this one home (to Australia!)

Here goes!

Adelaide Street Art

Australian National Anthem Verse 1

Australians all let us rejoice,
For we are young and free;
We’ve golden soil and wealth for toil;
Our home is girt by sea;
Our land abounds in nature’s gifts
Of beauty rich and rare;
In history’s page, let every stage
Advance Australia Fair.
In joyful strains then let us sing,
Advance Australia Fair.

Here are my three (no obligation) nominations:

http://www.miamusings.com

http://www.frommidnighttodawnlight.com

https://korsakkorner.wordpress.com

Thank you, Mark!

Not a Rock

2 Comments

image

I am not a rock. Though sometimes I feel like a stone. I work in IT. One of those rare professions the longer I work in it, the less I seem to know. My husband, on the other hand (bless him), seems to know everything. He is more like a mountain than a rock.
Yesterday I had a particularly harsh day. My husband last night stepped in to try and shed some light into my darkness. Until he finally turned to me and declared, you’re doing that weird thing with your hair again. Yeah, I’m twisting it instead of pulling it out (that happens too!) Can I go write some poetry now? Because passion.

Bubble Dreams coming up!

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “I Am a Rock.”

Insecurity

Vonita 38 Comments

When I turned eight my mother held a birthday party for me. The children arrived and played with my sister. I felt left out of my own birthday party. I promised quietly I would never agree to having another party for myself. I felt insecure. Two weeks later we moved to the city. I started a new school in the middle of the school term. I was the new girl. At my previous school I had my best friend Angie. We had grown up together. I really missed Angie. Her real name was Angelique and I loved the sound of her name. I struggled to make new friends. I was too shy to join in with the other girls, and none of them invited me to. I became a loner. And escaped in books.

Sometimes blogging brings up feelings of insecurity. How will I feel if others read my writing and then they don’t? What happens if they stop reading? Etc. I don’t want to be left out. There is honesty in blogging. We can present a window of ourselves and not the total view, but it is still a reflection of who we are.