Do chicks crow?

Vor etwa zwei Monaten schenkte uns jemand vier “Hühner”. Hübsche, kleine fluffige Hühner, die sich dekorativ in unserem Garten machten. Wir waren erst ein wenig besorgt wegen der Hunde, aber die reagierten  gelassen und wir haben sogar einen kleinen Hühnerstall im Garten. Die Schenkerin versichterte, wenn man sie für die ersten Tage darin einsperrt würden sie immer wieder zurückkommen und dort ihre Eier legen. Wir waren begeistert von nun an jeden Morgen frische Eier im Stall zu finden.

Aber dem war nicht so. Keine Eier. Stattdessen ein Mordsgekrähe jeden Morgen ab 5 in der Dunkelheit. Die ehemalige Besitzerin sagte, zwei seien Hähne, zwei Hennen. Das Gekrähe war ein Grund, warum sie sie loswerden wollte

Bald stellte sich heraus, daß alle vier “Hühner um die Wette krähten und da die Eier weiterhin ausblieben, bestätigte sich der Verdacht, dass wir im Besitz von vier Hähnen waren. Hübsch waren sie ja, aber der Lärm unerträglich.

Pinky sagte, ihre Großmutter habe die gleichen Hühner. Ich fragte sie, ob man die essen kann. Sie sagte, ja, natürlich. Ich fragte, ob sie Hühner schlachten und ausnehmen und zubereiten kann und sie sagte, dass sie das jederzeit für uns tun könnte.

Es gab immer wieder kurze Diskussionen in der Familie, ob wir den Hähnen den Hals umdrehen sollten, aber die Kinder sagten, es wären Haustiere und ich wollte kein Massaker in unserem Garten haben.

Gestern taten wir den ersten Schritt zur Problemlösung, indem wir Pinky eins der Tiere schenkten. Sie zog froh mit dem Hahn unter dem Arm ab, in Vorfreude auf ein köstliches Mittagessen.

Der Lärm hat deutlich abgenommen. Heute erst um 7 das erste Krähen vernommen. Am Montag geben wir ihr den nächsten Hahn mit. Bisher hat ihn keiner vermisst.

Cookie checking the “chickens”

Pinky checking her lunch

Good Bye

Happy new year to everyone!

Now slowly getting back into routine. I am almost a bit depressed today about that. So many things happened. So many plans had been made. And now as if nothing had happened we are going back to normal.
I like to get into this state of desiring something with all my heart and at the same time being completely happy with what we have and content to settle with it.
It is a good exercise.

We had a great holiday. Worked a bit, discovered the most beautiful wild beach behind our house. You only need a 4×4 to get there and we got stuck in the sand twice but only the last 50 meter. It is like in the first part of the surfer movie Endless Summer, when they walk over the dunes in Jeffrey’s Bay and there ist this empty, endless beach with this amazing blue sea.

We had a lot of happy time with friends and family. Food and fun.
We love this place. Even though we neglected our garden and never managed to plant a vegetables or flowers. Now poplars are growing everywhere. We both thought that for this year we want to settle down. Have a place as a home base from which we move. For years now every place has always been temporary and I am longing for a place that is home. A place that won’t change and where we always come back to.

Now, after nothing has changed I am thinking about cutting my hair short. I only let it grow to tie it up. Who needs that lot of hair.

And I am going to leave this place. It felt so lonely. I less and less wanted to go there, rather stay in real life. I realized I stopped emailing my friends and lost contact with them, and that was the opposite of what I intended. Good bye and thank you for your love and attention and beautiful and suporting comments.

Bye bye

A Lazy Guide to Stay Thin

I find that I have a lot more to say about things I know little about.
For example diet. I never have been on a diet. Not that I never had too.

I am 1.80m. When I was 17 I weighed 57 kilos. My ideal weight now would be about 65. I don’t know my weight now because I only step on a scale when I feel really thin and that was what the hotel scale showed two and half years ago. When I feel too fat it usually shows 70.

The last time I got rid of 5 kilos was on my last reading tour in Germany. I had a nervous tummy bug and could hardly eat for a week. At the end of my journey I bought a pair of Jeans as encouragement to stay thin. I haven’t worn these jeans for a year. My skinny Jeans are still my measure.

For a long time I thought it is just luck that some people stay thin and others don’t. I honestly thought fat people eating big cakes is a chliche´. But it isn’t. I realized that most thin people eat less. All my friends which are thiner than me eat less than I do. And most people which are fatter than me eat more. Most thin people are always very disciplined with food. Most people have to be that. Always!
If I want to stay thin I have to stay hungry. I can not always eat untill I feel full.

I don’t believe in diets. I believe diets are dangerous. Only fat people go on diets. And they usually stay fat or get fat again. I believe once you starve yourself your metabolism gets lazy and you will store fat that you will never get rid of. I believe in eating less. So I slowly and carefully go down with my food intake.
I believe in a diet for life. A healthy eating habit that I found is working for me. I wrote down some of the rules that came into my mind. Depending on my weight and mood I stick to more or less of the rules. My body weight is only dictated by my own well being and the clothes I wear. No scales!

- Never get on a scale when you are trying to loose weight.

- Never ever buy new clothes a size bigger because everything you own is too small. (This is a non-negotionable!)

- Don’t starve yourself untill you get so hungry that you could eat a whole cow (and do).

- Decrease your food intake slowly but constantly

- Don’t get bored. Get some excitement.

- Sport only makes you hungry (and even worse, your body will get used to it and you will have to keep on exercising to keep your weight). Walk more or have more sex instead.

- Go for an hour walk every day.

- Cook a lot. I loose my appetite when I cook.

- Eat less but more often. 5 meals a day.

- Never go on a diet!

- Avoid bread, cake, everything flowery, sugar (when you can) and potatoes (in any form!) when you feel too fat.

- When you had a heavy meal stay away from desert.

- Don’t eat after 6 o’ clock in the evening or only a light meal.

- Take only half portions and rather go for seconds. Stop eatings even when you still feel hungry, but feel full once a day.

- Eat little portions of many different foods. So your tastedbuds are fully satisfied.

- Only eat when you are hungry and not because everybody else does.

- Never feel guilty but feel good about yourself if you kept even one rule for today and keep on trying.

- Eat slowly! (I can’t, but I know two very skinny girls who eat veery slowly and thought there might be a connection)

- Only drink water!

Any other suggestions?

Next: My thoughts on the best way to spend your life. Stay thin!

Sticky Rice And Cranberry-Juice

There are three things that Sven and I can’t do together:

#1 is dancing. We tried it at one of the first nights we went out together at the Kumpelnest, my favorite bar in Berlin at that time. He moved double my speed and we fortunately ended up kissing very soon, which we managed much better. I never really gave him a chance, but every time we stand next to each other and he starts moving to music, he is too fast.

#2 is playing cards. I mean serious card games, especially Doppelkopf. In Doppelkopf the two queens of spade play together. You have to find out during the game who is your partner. This is a very serious game and Sven played it for the first time and he didn’t take it serious. He just laughed when we lost after he made a major mistake. I nearly broke up with him. We decided not to take the risk to ever play cards together.

#3 is cooking. We always fight when we cook together. I like to stick to recipes, he is more an adventurous cook. That bares some risks but also leads to a lot of experience and often amazing results. He is the chef in this family, he does 95 percent of the cooking, but I still don’t trust him when I watch him cooking and I still think it is sometimes not a bad choice to follow a recipe.

It became a habit in the last weeks to invite friends for lunch on Sundays. Yesterday we decided (I decided) to cook a green Thai curry which we didn’t have for a long time. I looked up the recipe in the internet and we shopped together. Sven listened to me when I read the recipe to him and we started cooking together. And it actually worked out. We didn’t fight at all. I had some questions but he politely answered them and I was happy. We were so proud of ourselves that we finally had managed to cook together and it was fun!

Only at the end, the rice he cooked turned sticky. I hate sticky rice and if there is anything we both never mess up, it is rice. Very easy. You take the same amount rice and water, (maybe a little bit more water) put the lid on the pot and leave it on, bring the water to boil and switch off the heat, if you have an electric stove. The rice will turn out perfectly.

There was only little rice left in the package. I cooked it and when I opened the lid, the rice was just as sticky as the first lot. I apologized to him and repented and came to the insight that I still have to trust him more. The Rice was mixed with the curry anyway and it was delicious.

Our guests brought a great summer-drink: mix (Stoney) Ginger-beer, Cranberry-juice, (about 2/3 ginger-beer, 1/3 juice), the juice of two limes (on 1 Liter, put the limes also in the bowl), ice and fresh peppermint leaves. It is delicious!

The highlight of our Sunday lunches is a walk along the river. Even it was drizzling yesterday, we went and it was beautiful. We watched the yellow weaverbirds in the reed and the dark clouds moving over the mountain. I love talking while walking. It is always very special.

Unfortunately my laptop is sick again and I can’t upload any photos on this one until Sven has fixed it. He can fix almost everything. The first time he came to my house he fixed the light-bulb in front of my apartment door, so I won’t have to fumble with my key in the dark when I come home late, as I did for weeks before I met him. That was when I decided he is the one.

Happy

Still struggeling to get the blog going again, since my only one year old MacBook “gave up his soul”. This is the second time since I bought it. It can`t find the hard disk. There is nothing we can do.
The internet seems to be even slower on my old iBook and iPhoto just kacked up. But I don’t care, because it is a beautiful day again and with winter like that I am just happy.

Just as I write this, Sven said, the laptop is working again. A miracle. He switched it on and it just came back as if nothing had happened. I think it wanted to give me a holiday. Or it needed a holiday itself. Apple computers are very sensitive, almost human.

Another reason for my good mood is that I finally bought myself some clothes. We went to Capetown on Saturday and met with wonderful Olga who lead us to the Woodstock Market. I felt like a Ossie (a person from the former East of Germany) coming to the West, when I saw all these foodstalls with the most advanced and fancy snacks I have ever seen. Everything was just nice and tasteful and had style, there was not even one dodgy shop there. A German lady sold giant pieces of appelstrudle, I ate Indian chicken curry, Sven had the most delicious sandwich with Parma ham and lentils and other secret stuff, there were flowers I had never seen before in my life.

I bought a pair of ballet flats from a lovely girl who made them in all different kinds of fabrics. You can even bring your own fabric.

I was so starved of city life, I enjoyed the people, the shops, the sun was shining, people were sitting on see- through-plastic covered straw-bales eating their food under the blue blue Capetown sky. It felt like beeing at home. I enjoyed all the nice shops, just looking at things with style and taste. I haven’t done this for years.

Afterwards we went to the Waterfront. Olga also guided me through the mall, lead me to the right places, picked the right clothes, gave her honest opinion. Just what I needed.
Even Sven enjoyed it and found a perfect pair of Jeans, the best he ever had and bought two of them.

This all could happen, because my dear friend A. my personal stylist, the archangel of the underdressed as she called herself jokingly promised me to send me a parcel of clothes.
Almost everything I wear is coming from her. I feel helpless without her. But knowing she is still there for me had encouraged me to take action, and there I am. Happy! And well dressed.
Thank you A! Thank you Olga!

Kleiderkrise

Clothes-Crisis

I went shopping with the kids for winter clothes. It is always difficult with both of them at the same time because both need my assistance and attention.
We dropped Luzie at KFC while I went to Ackerman’s with Anton to look for clothes for him and return all the stuff that I had bought for Luzie the previous day, because she didn’t like it.

Anton is very specific. He can’t wear T-Shirt or any thing made out of similar fabric, because he can’t stand to touch it. He doesn’t like any print on his clothes, what makes it very difficult, he hates to try anything on and he doesn’t care about clothes at all. I was very glad that we quickly agreed on three shirts and a really nice blue and grey jersey, after I had spent about 20 minutes at the counter returning Luzies clothes.

While I was waiting in the queue to pay for Antons clothes a furious Luzie came and complained that we didn’t pick her up at KFC and that I didn’t ask her if she wanted anything from Ackerman’s.

We went back to KFC after looking at WII games at Musica, because I needed a Coke and the kids were still hungry. They shared large chips and I shared my Mini Twister with them.

Than we went to Mr. Price, where we found a lot of nice things for Luzie and a pair of pants for Anton. That took us about an hour with me rushing between the children’s and the men’s sections, heaps of clothes in my arms, making sure, checking Anton in the changing room, talking to former neighbors and advising a friend buying a pair of shoes.

I was exhausted, hungry and glad that we had successfully managed to get what we needed, when we finally sat in the car. All I wanted was a pack of droe wors (dried sausage). We stopped at the Petrol Station to buy slap chips for every one and I got my wors.

At home I had to clean Luzies hairbrush and schoolbag from puppies pie (only curly is left and we might even keep him) and when I finally wanted to get my dried wors (Trockenwurst) I found out that Anton had eaten almost all of it. Only three tiny pieces were left.

That was when I lost it. I screamed at him and Sven screamed at me because he was exhausted as well and wanted peace and I screamed back at him and I took the dogs and even it was already getting dark and I was so tired and all I wanted was to lie down and eat my droe wors, I and ran out of the house.

I was so upset, I started to cry. While running down the streets in tears, I tried to figure out how I could get so upset over some stupid wors.

The reason is, I haven’t been able to by myself a descent piece of clothes for more than 2 years. I can’t find anything I want to wear. I don’t know where to go I am wearing hand-me-down jeans from my mom and a woolen coat with holes in it, I bought centuries ago at H&M. I feel like a bag lady. All the pleasure I have is eating and even that they took from me.

The next day I tried my “skinny jeans” on, which I had bought two years ago after not having eaten for 5 days on my book tour two years ago because I was so nervous and had an upset stomach. I lost more than 5 kilos and thought the best way to keep my weight is to buy a pair of pants. They did fit me for more than a year until they felt a bit uncomfortable and I stopped wearing them. Now I couldn’t button them up anymore.

After cooling down I came to the conclusion that the droe wors attack was a clear message to rather stop eating and trying to fit into my Jeans again.
But I still need more clothes!

Spitbraai

Sven more or less invited ourselves to a spitbraai. The sheep was delicious. It was oom (sprich uahm) Cloetes 50th birthday. Every younger Afrikaans person would call an older person oom (uncle) or tannie (auntie). That still sounds funny to me, but it is a form of respect.

When I asked Mandie once if I would call Coias Mom who is about my mothers age tannie, she shook her head and said: “Nooo!” I asked, “why not?” and she said: “Because you are old!”. Mandie is 21 and I could tell that she didn’t really saw a difference between me and Coias Mom.

Cloetes brother said in his speech which Simonei translated simultanously from Afrikaans into English for me: “50 ist a great age. You are finally wise enough to make the right decisions and you have enough time left to benefit from these decisions”.

Oom Cloetes 50th birthday

The fire never stops

Grieki

The meat goes into the pot

Klein Johanneki chewing on a bone

Lazy Late Lunch