just reward

33° in the lounge is no fun for man or mouse. But next to the sea with the breeze and all, we gambolled in our slice of heaven. Andrew made his kite do tactical manoeuvres that would make a dragonfly envious. Aidan feasted on moist sea-sand and Robyn discovered the teeming life just below the licking swell.

Actually - the little fish that caught all of our attention, was a beautiful little raccoon butterfly fish. We call it 'lunula' which is a shortened version of its proper name: 'Chaetodon Lunula'. What was very unusual was that this little baby was in quite open waters amongst the bathers - and also it is quite late in the year to see such a young specimen. The adults which can grow up to about 20cm in length have a black stripe across their eyes which gives them their name. I also saw many commons:: black-tail, mullet, sergeant majors, zebras, a couple of different surgeons. And then I saw another beauty:: The moon wrasse. Also a juvenile, this guy or girl, (as they are hermaphrodites) floated by on the current feeding on the algae and other plant life on the rocks.

And so my bliss was complete - all that was left was to pack up - rinse in the baby pool and walk past the mouthwatering braais and drive back home to the furnace in Starling Place. and driving back home I lamented the time, a good ten years ago now, when we had a marine tank in our lounge - and we spent hours in the rock pools courting and catching specimens to add to the mini eco-system - and reading up in books (not on the net) about their names and habits and suchlike. And the transience of it all replayed in my head.

This year has already proven to be a real financial challenge - but these problems will also prove to be transient. There is a verse in my favourite book : The letter of St James;  which says: "For the sun rises with its scorching heat and withers the grass; its flower falls, and its beauty perishes. So also will the rich man fade away in the midst of his pursuits." (Jas1:11) Altho James is referring, in particular, to the material riches of the world, if you read on, the next verse tells of reward for enduring the trials and conflict of our daily existence. Verse 12 says "Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him."

I wonder what I'll look like with a crown........

pic of the Moon Wrasse from Wikipedia

harmony in C

"Everybody just wanna fall in love
Everybody just wanna play the lead"

"I can kinda see where this is going: this silence"
"what do ya mean?"
"everyday the brooding gets longer and longer: I know I'm watching"
"well I got stuff on my mind - I've gotta internalise, and digest"
"an I'm burning up watching you go thru it alone"
"what do ya wanna know....its death, 2 in the last week..... and birthdays"
"what's birthdays gotta do with it?"
"hey its like a constant reminder of the end, time just ticking over, like all the clocks on the walls that have stopped - you know, batteries just run out"
"you're wacked"
"well you asked - and another thing : there's too much traffic - busy noise"
"so what are ya saying? you wanna go somewhere quiet and die?"
"c'mon - do you wanna hear this or not?"
"okay - hit me with the rest"
"yeah so what about Tiger Woods and Zuma, what do ya think about them?"
"mm brown people with lots of money and licence to bonk whom they choose!!"
"hey don't you take anything seriously? what about ethics, morality and Christian values?"
"here we go again........"
" 'kay if you don't wanna hear...."
"You gonna tell me what's really bugging you or what?"
"still on that :: its a little thing really : I've been told I've got an attitude problem and its
affecting those around me - and the crap thing is - once the anger melted, I realised he was
unequivocally on the button......."
"mm pretty crap - how do you feel now?"
"hey humility makes me itch - but I stitched me some sorry-prayers, and I'm getting on with it :: the itch is still there, but it reminds me to pull my neck in when I should."

"And we looked at them eleven ways
You said, "Look at me". And looked away
And you wrote the song I wanna play 
I'll write you harmony in C" (Metric-Sick Muse)

weekend anomalies

we had an 'Anything Can Happen' Saturday:: from the moment I opened the curtain events beyond human control started unravelling. I saw that the interior light in Patti's car was on. I berated her lack of security only to find she had nothing to do with it and discover the passenger door was open 'cos some miscreant had decided to see what pickings he could plunder. As this was the third time this car had been violated; there was none of the previously experienced chest tightening angst. We assessed the little damage, opened a huge bag of seafood flavoured chips (my new favourites), and watched 3 episodes of Big Bang Theory. Sheldon's nutty grip on order seemed entirely appropriate. Then : no gardener = rain stops play, no guitar student = party stops play :: and then to discover that our slutty little pup had been successful on her neighbourhood romps and was halfway along to being yet another far-too-young unmarried mom.

 

Then the lounge clock lied to the tune of 45 minutes and we had to scamper to get to the Pav to see the matinee of 3D Avatar = we were too late and there were no more seats. I thought of that move that street dancers do so well : brushing an annoying imaginary speck from my shoulder. 2 fresh Kilkenny draughts at The Firken took a bit of the edge off the irritation and pleasant conversation and good meal sorta swung the wheel-of-fortune a little. Not that we found ourselves lotto winners or anything - just that fate-woman had taken off her blindfold and actually acknowledged my white flag of truce.

Saturday ended on a good note - after a more than decent braai - (thanks to Andrew & Tracey) - we watched a movie I had waited to see for quite a while. It was well worth the wait :: "Where the Wild Things Are" takes us to Max's imaginary world of monsters. I really enjoyed how the monsters and Max slept in a huge pile. I'm still digesting some of the imagery and innuendo.

The weekend's ups-and-downs left the family winded. Fortunately, I had the opportunity to start the weekend with an hour of adoration at church. The night's storm had left the suburb littered with fallen branches, leaves and mud; but inside the adoration chapel - there was - peace. Peace to take home and share. Peace to prayerfully distribute. And peace to soothe my bruised heart.

"I will seek a place at Your altar - humbly draw near to You
I will hide myself in Your shadow - worship in spirit and truth"

kiss my frog

Patti went to dry her hands on my towel. Her left hand grabbed a cold wet and slithery something behind the cloth. The world nearly fell out of her bottom - it was a tree frog. He was very cool about the whole thing - I think there's a touch of aloof royalty in his blood. Anyway the poor blighter leapt across to the burglar guard wrapped in strands of long curly auburn hairs. It seems he got a wedgie for his trouble. Shea came to his rescue and carefully unravelled the hair from around his little body, and he left to do frog things.

We've been inundated with creepy crawlies of late :: I was greeted by a full grown bush snake when I arrived home the other day; if only he would do his job of eating the wall-staining geckoes I wouldn't be so put out. Those black geckies are my worst - they kinda look like they've got spiky black wetsuits on; but they still squash the same - we've got an array of flat skeletal gecko flatties behind the music room door. Yeah - I think this moist heat is definitely conducive to gecko breeding. Don't you just hate it when one of their poo's land in your bath water and when you try to scoop it out with the nailbrush : the poo molecules sidestep the brush bristles and make a large slick on the water's surface. eish.

but by far the most irksome bug of all is the one that messing up my DSTV reception. I've given up trying to watch some of the programmes on certain channels 'cos you can never see the end. What I can't understand is if the huge tree that's grown across my neighbour's sky is the problem; then why does it only affect some channels :: and when you try and phone the helpline number - there's a 9 million callers ahead of you, (which co-incidentally is same amount of bicycles in Beijing), and who has the furious tenacity to wait that long? and I went onto the forum pages on the DSTV website - hey I enjoy reading just as much as the next guy, but wow there's more text there to wade thru than the average dictionary. Whatever happened to pick up phone - a real person answers - I whinge and whine - he/she chat chat - I smile - we exchange pleasantries - put down the receiver and file the info away to bring up at the next braai?


"I'd like to make myself believe
That planet Earth turns slowly
It's hard to say that I'd rather stay
Awake when I'm asleep'Cause everything is never as it seems" (Fireflies - Owl City)


Hey - hlala kahle and don't let the bugs bite!!

wake up

so I acknowledge that I was asleep on my feet - and instead of the customary glass of water to start my work day, I opted for a steaming mug of sweet black coffee, to get that - you know : up the spine caffeine-cracker. I normally fill my cup with about two thirds from the kettle and a third from the cold water tap to make it immediately drinkable. (did I say I was dead on my feet?) well - this time I filled my cup from the cold tap, stumbled to my desk and took a deep slug of unexpectedly yukky cold coffee. Man - what a way to wake up.

life under the radar has a way of dulling the senses and making me roll with the punches.

I'm addicted to a game on Facebook - Bejewelled. Each game lasts a minute and no matter how many times you play three things have to happen to achieve a high score :: firstly the 'roll' has to be in your favour - a high score is impossible if the pieces don't tumble into a sequence of events - not unlike the 'domino effect'. Secondly You have to be on top of your game - there is a time when you almost get 'second sight', everything is vivid and clear and you can play the blocks in anticipation of where they will be after they tumble. And the third thing is for all these two things to be in synch - to happen simultaneously; so that while you're frantically pushing keys every half second, the online computer mannetjie is smiling at your efforts and throwing buckets of 'luck' on your creased brow.

"So come pull the sheet over my eyes
So I can sleep tonight
Despite what I've seen today
I find you guilty of a crime of sleeping at a time
When you should have been wide awake" (Audioslave - Wide Awake)

and this is how I anticipate I will make my world this year :: I'll do my homework and attempt to be bright-eyed and fuzzy-tailed and anticipate and be as quick and agile as Jet Li on Red Bull cocktails :: as for the 'luck' part - well I'll chat more on my knees but not to the computer, but to the Supreme Creator of all things past and present and if - no, when these things happen simultaneously I'll have to wear sunglasses to avert the downpour of blessings.

Watch out world - I'm awake now.

pic of Bejewelled game

survivors

came home to the sound of nada - electricity was off :: no blinking lights to greet me from thetv cabinet and no irregular hum from the fridge saying "choose me, choose me". Jonty (the cockatiel) let fly with a barrage of whistles; and when I didn't respond - proceeded to hump his perch. This place is way off its kilter. So no typing onto the pc - I'm writing this into my new journal (thanks babe) :: leather and wood and studs and tons of blankness to fill.

There's definitely a feeling of helplessness in a situation like this - but nothing at all compared to the Haitian catastrophe. I read the updates on the plight of the Haitian folk today; as the quake survivors try to make sense of their broken country. I also read of an account of a couple turning their home into a field hospital and responding to the carnage in a very positive way, in any way they can.................................... And I read (in Psalm 49) about the 'folly' of human whim and the absolute short-sightedness of luxuries and riches; and I'm reminded too of how when King Saul tried to bend the rules by tucking into the booty of his beaten adversaries, was sacked by God thru the prophet Samuel. And I mention that as the radio blurts about the Haitian survivors are fighting over the booty of pillaged shops. And as our country pumps up their advertising on their new series "celebrity Survivor". and I wonder what the heck they've ever survived.

I'm back with a warm brandy and coke - refilled the mutts' water bowls - put an old towel over the puddle under the fridge and checked if the neighbours have electricity. Its just our house without power. looks like we're in for a quiet dark evening. Sjoe - its hot without the overhead fan. but as the they say in the classics : " 'n boer maak 'n plan" :: so while we wait for the eskom man  - its on with the braai and candles and stout quarts and frikkedels and salad and tinfoil boats with banana and melted chocolate and huge thanksgiving for life and love and full tummies.

The fried circuit breaker fuse thingie was replaced. We survived another of life's curved balls.

pic of the fried circuit breaker and our impromptu braai

symbiosis

one work week notched up and dispatched with - exhausting. My mother explained that I was one year younger than I thought and so I've begun to allow myself to dream - this is dangerous territory. It is the rekindling of hope and self-assurance and trust in my own worth. So with this gonad work-out programme initiated and in full swing (duck!) it becomes clear that I need to somehow hone these errant thoughts - to sharpen my purpose. I cannot endure sitting behind this screen for ever...

I watched these goggas - busy busy little beasties - the ants cajol and herd the aphids to feast on the sweet juices of my plant. Then later when their bellies are large and see-thru they take them back to their nest and stroke em with their feelers until they puke out the 'honeydew' - and then its time for the ants to feast. I feel like those little aphids...

"And I wonder (oh, I wonder)
Yes, I wonder (yes, I wonder)
Is this the way life's meant to be?"

I used to have my own business - I was forced into it - Before that I was a partner in a very successful promtions company. It went belly up when my partner took what assets there were and hid under the banquet table and gorged his greedy face. So survival dictated I turn the skills I had gleaned and start out on my own. It was good - I learned a whole bunch. If the tides were early, I'd spend an hour on the beach early. The work wouldn't go away - so I'd do that hour in the evening. If an out of town client reneged on payment, I'd pack a lunch, jump in the bakkie and go and fetch it. If a client was verbally abusive - I'd choose not to work for him. There were fat months and many thin months. During a lean patch I was offered this job - eight years later and I'm still here. My belly is large and translucent and I'm tired of being stroked...
They say 'be careful what you wish for' - I say to hell with that - pour me another while I do my wishing, no hang on - make it a double!!

"As I wander around this wreck of a town
Where people never speak aloud
With its ivory towers and its plastic flowers
I wish I was back in 1981
Just to see your face instead of this place
Now I know what you mean to me
And I wonder (oh, I wonder)
Yes, I wonder (yes, I wonder)
Is this the way life's meant to be?" - (The Way Life's Meant To Be - ELO)
pic of ants and aphids on my patio

the way ahead

I forget my exact response to the alarm this morning - it was not good. 

I dragged my body of ailments to the window, rested my hands on the cold sill and witnessed my first sunrise of the year. the guilt of years drained away. (I quenched the dripping cold tap) the cool breath of morning touched my chest. I asked Patti how she was gonna deal with this new year, and she replied "under the radar". It reminded me of that old song :: "Underneath The Radar" sung appropriately by The Underworld. and I thought about all the resolutions for the holiday past and how they were lambasted by circumstance, and I considered if I should make any serious resolutions for the year. (I managed to forego "beer for a year" as Patti did her "Coke"). So as my breath fogged up the glass and my reflection blurred, I decided to embrace Patti's response to my question and slip under the radar (+ maybe I'll stop shaving for a year). One of the cool lines from the song goes :: "Between the walls - well hey - we're just too small to make a fuss about it - did something fall? - what is the point in losin sleep about it"

my thoughts fold over onto themselves like dough in a mixing bowl :: there's this newish song by Leeland called simply: "My Jesus" - its really beautiful - I decided to learn it - this is what the band said about the song : "This song is an invitation to make things simple again and, to make your greatest goal in life to simply fall more in love with Jesus. Really get lost in Him. Here's a project for you. Take some time today (and every day for the rest of your life) to just sit and let God love you. Then let that love fill every moment of your day, even the ordinary places. It will change your life. If we get this, we'll be in the perfect position to change the world around us!"
I think I get it - do you?

pic of the path outside my front windows "dry riverbed"

The Last Day

I awoke with just over eighteen hours of the year left. the time had culminated in a rash that screamed for attention. Patti woke up crying again - the pain of others. I searched for calamine lotion and came up empty handed. Seeking soothing I put on Dilana's album and soon her rasping voice calling from her self imposed purgatory eased my mind and strummed my aching soul. later - much later, I forged into the garden looking for holy ground. I found a huge bunch of bananas that had pulled its momma tree to its demise with its sheer weight. I lopped it off and limped back to the house. the world is so heavy. the heat saturates. in my lounge a pot of lillium in full bloom fills the room with a dull sweet smell that holds my shoulders and demands attention - it lifts me. The smell reminded me of the time I smelled roses outside the church :: there were no roses in bloom (in fact no roses growing at all) not even anyone around that could be wearing a perfume. It is said that when Mary appears to the faithful - the vision is accompanied by the heady smell of roses. I am humbled by the thought.
I'm reading a book by Rob Bell at the moment, entitled "Velvet Elvis" - it consumes me so that I've left the last third of the book untouched for a day. If I finish it today, I will have to bear that sadness of completion - his vision gallops alongside my own; tho while he articulates, I merely paint a blur.
Yesterday we watched the first part of Louie Giglio's latest offering : a dvd entitled "Home Free - even me". He retells the story of the Prodigal in a fresh and inspiring way. The timing is apt - the end of the year signals, nay heralds a return to the bounteous holy ground of soul soothing. For a while now our inspirations have grown thin, sported glowing red eyes and whipped the injured faithful into submission, myself included.

Grace is only amazing if we become aware of its presence. we are blessed. God is with us and the ground on which we walk is Holy. amen.

pic by Shea's Shane

in response to the absence of love

In these last few days of preparation, it has become the norm for me to access my personal year (and that of my family) :: to examine and revel in the 'milestones'; and to examine and examine the 'millstones' that have seemed to morph together like one of the Autobot Transformers and form a colossal wall; a barrier of failures. And in my doing this, a verse jumped out at me during my readings. Its a verse from Proverbs (20:5). It reads : "The intention of the human heart is like water far below the surface - but the man of intelligence draws it forth." So if I read it correctly, it points out that its a bit pointless to marvel and smile inwardly at our little triumphs; to be buoyed up by the warmth of the love in our lives = if we don't do something with it. Some folk are powered by adrenaline :: let these heartfelt intentions be my adrenaline : my 'water of life'. Some folks need drugs to springboard their achievements :: let the drug in my life be the Holy Spirit - the Water of Life.
We lay-in the other morning, Patti and I, and I played the hit song by Susan Boyle for her : "Wild Horses". The song was penned and originally performed by The Rolling Stones; and it reflected their difficulty in dealing with the fame they had achieved and where fate ("graceless lady"), was leading them. The song has been recorded by many artists since 1971, and these include Guns n Roses, Natasha Bedingfield and Jewel. While we lay listening to he track, my thoughts rambled to what these "Wild Horses" were :: were they the heavy horses of the apocalypse, was this the fear of conquest, conflict, famine and death? Or were they simply the trials and burdens of our every day? There is a line from the orginal lyrics that Susan Boyle omits :: "Wild horses - we'll ride them someday"; which, I think, Keith and Mick meant that they would grab the manky manes of these wild animals of life, dig their heels into their heaving ribcages and ride the sweaty beasts to wherever they would lead.

"wild horse couldn't drag me away - wild horse couldn't drag me away"

(o to be a man of intelligence and seek the waters that run deep)

 pic of stained glass windows at Durban's cathedral