THE CRAZY..

What do you do when you feel the blue haze of panic rising up to meet you with arms stretched wide, ready to drag you into the void? Hmm, what do you do, indeed!

Over the last few weeks things in Zim have been progressively unravelling – the Unity Government is not looking quite as united as it could be, farm invasions have recommenced and bodies are turning up.. having perished from slightly more than natural causes…. With all this resumed activity I have to admit to being somewhat anxious about my parents well being. Which brings us to why I was teetering on the edge of the void..

I haven’t spoken to my folks for a few weeks (no major panic there as my sister chatted to them last week) but I thought I would check in on Monday.. Tuesday.. Wednesday – by now I was desperately dialling.. nothing, nothing, nothing. No ringing, no dial tone just a disembowelled voice advising that the ‘line is unavailable at the moment’. At this stage I am almost obsessively calling; mom, dad, dad, mom - over and over, just on the off chance that I might get through, frustratingly, still nothing.

I could feel my grip on reason slipping and panic blooming in its place, time to control The Crazy! Unfortunately once the door to Crazy has been opened it is considerably harder to shut. It feels as though you have been torn in two, with your neurotic self throwing up awful questions, whilst your saner, lucid self sits back unsure how best to proceed.

So Mom & Dad, feel free to call your youngest, most recently married daughter - as she is only just in control of The Crazy!! – love you xx.

FAMILY..

Firstly ladies and gentlemen, you will all be happy to know that my dearest father is feeling much better after his recent bout of malaria. I spoke to him earlier in the week and he was sounding quite chipper after having mom nurse him back to health.

My mother is a heroine at almost all things medical and has virtually become the district doctor – even though she is not one. She has handled a myriad of illnesses and accidents from malaria to chopped off fingers, third degree burns to rushing farm workers off to the hospital for births. Never mind her cool headedness when a child had her stomach blown open whilst crossing the live minefield separating Zimbabwe from Mozambique. Yes, my mom has the patience of a saint and a stomach of steel. I like to think that I take after her in many ways however when the gifts were being handed down clearly ‘Patience of a Saint’ was left off the list.

Truth be told I really do not deal very well with sick people. Americo swiftly realised this after catching a particularly severe case of ‘Man Flu’ only to find that his devoted and charming wife did not quite live up to expectations on the patience and sympathy front! The problem is twofold .. chiefly, Americo is a rubbish patient, being predominantly grizzly and grumpy as opposed to frail and ill. Secondly, I hate seeing him sick, ergo … he just shouldn’t be!

So in other news, I had a lovely lunch with my brother today who I have not seen for ages as he has shipped himself and family off to sunnier climes – lucky devil.

Last night was our final volleyball evening of the summer season, that is right folks .. summer is about to be officially over with the entire population of England going into hibernation. Thankfully we have our holiday in Australia to keep us going as the light slinks away and the temperature continues to drop. I have to put in here that Americo has been somewhat impressed with my recent spurt of commitment to a sport, I must admit that I have even surprised myself!

ET .. CALL HOME

On Saturday night I dreamt my dad had Alzheimer’s and he could only remember the part of his life prior to my birth. I frantically begged him not to forget me for how could I live knowing that my dad had no knowledge of me? I woke up distressed with tears rolling down my cheeks and a desperate desire to call home.

I have mentioned before the problems with communication to Zimbabwe .. mostly that there is no communication with Zimbabwe. All day Sunday I tried to call home and was amazed that I was getting the ringing tone, first time on each call – unfortunately no one was answering. (This always gets me a bit edgy as law & order is not a top priority).

This morning I got into the office and there was an e-mail from my mom. Dad has malaria and has been unwell all weekend but is doing much better today.

Sometimes you just know to call home.

Thinking of you dad - xxx

BACK & I'M BAD..

Last week seemed to rush past like a freight train. One minute it was Monday, the next it was Friday and I had barely managed to update my blog!

We went to Volley Ball on Tuesday; I managed to convince Americo to rush back to London from his conference so that he could partake of the festivities. As this had not been in the initial game plan Americo had no clothes with him for volley ball, so being the doting wife (that I clearly am) I lugged all his clothing about London with me. Funny how when I used to travel I could take a little day sack with me for at least 10 days but 1 pair of Americo’s shoes and my whole satchel is full. To conclude on the Volley Ball, this is not just a jolly as first thought – I seem to have signed myself up to a league so will have to be somewhat more committed than initially expected.

This weekend was full of family, Saturday was my niece’s 7th birthday which had me up at the crack of dawn in order to assist with party preparations. Sunday we had Americo’s family round for lunch.

Aaah it was a lunch to remember, and sadly not in the good way either! To begin, I know my faults, I am bossy, lack patience when irritated and generally speak my mind. It is second nature to me when I see one of my nephew’s or niece behaving badly to immediately put in a cease and desist order. Which, as far as I am concerned is not up for negotiation – it is an order with immediate effect. I bet are you are all feeling sorry for the sprogs now?

So, on to the fateful event; I caught our nephew drawing with a piece of metal on my wooden table. We had all been sitting around said table so I am not sure how I hadn’t noticed the silence that inevitably means trouble is brewing. When I caught him at it and asked ‘what the .. are you doing’ – he replied saying ‘I was bored’.

No action from the parental sector. Now this is a quandary, on one hand this is my house and the other, this is not my child. I am sorry to say that the ‘this is my house’ won the day and I refused any pudding to the cantankerous child. Explaining that the excuse of ‘I am bored’ is unacceptable whilst wilfully damaging someone else’s property!

As we sat there with one 12 year old boy in tears and everyone looking at me as though I had just sprouted horns and a tail, I have to admit to ALMOST relenting. However Americo fully backed my decision (which was an incredible relief). His mom offered to buy us a new table – not the point – and my sister in law thought my technique was far too harsh. My logic being .. will he do it again? I doubt it! What I found most uncomfortable though is that my mother in law looked at me like I had a heart of stone, as if the behaviour was all okay because it was in the family?

Saying that however I think I have a better understanding of why parent’s let their children get away with mischief. It is bloody hard to discipline a child. There is something about those big eyes staring back at you as if you have just told them that Santa doesn’t exist and all the reindeer were packed off to the glue factory.

TUESDAY!

I am slowly but surely recovering from my varicose vein operation but must mention that it is not the most pleasant of experiences. As well as the beautiful bruising, I have a 4-5cm cut in my groin that totally grosses me out every time I look at it! I did think about taking photo’s and posting them for a keepsake but really it is too revolting… The other cuts are inconsequential as they don’t give me any pain and will be all gone in a jiffy.

Before this operation I was a huge advocate of “plastic fantastic.. baby”! In that when/if Americo and I ever have children every part of my body would be returned to pre-child proportions. Now, however, I feel that plastic surgery really should be the last option. That is not to say that I have gone all extremist in the other direction - I still want the right to choose! It is just that I now remember how painful it is to go under the knife.

So to this end I have a shocking announcement… I am going to start being healthier. I have no expectations that this will last long as I get bored easily and generally lack dedication. However in order to keep the bulge at bay I feel that something really must be done. SO! Once all the holes are sealed I shall be joining a swimming pool and taking up where I left off MANY years ago. Any helpful hints would be appreciated..

Yesterday I spoke to my Aunt Mary who told me that someone from our French side of the family (on my mother’s side) have written a little book about our history/family tree. How exciting! Unfortunately it is all in French so will need to be translated but I am eager to get a copy with family stories dating back to 1066! I will keep you posted.

IT'S PINK!

The other night Americo did a load of washing. As a red pair of fisherman trousers we got in Thailand would be included I reiterated that no whites, whatsoever, should be involved… You can see the impending doom.. I transferred everything from washer to tumble dryer and guess what I found? Americo’s once very manly football socks were now a lovely shade of salmon, along with his ankle guard and some other choice items. I have to admit to a little chuckle of amusement seeing my husband rushing about trying to get his gear together with pink ankle guard on one foot and a jaundiced expression directed at the socks.

I have not always been the ‘demi-domestic goddess’ you see before you. In fact when I came to the UK my kitchen skills consisted of nuking a potato in the microwave and not much more. I remember one boyfriend’s mother saying ‘She is lovely darling.. but I don’t think she can cook!’

My second home in London was a houseshare on Fladgate Road. I was living with a group of friends from Zimbabwe along with my brother and his wife. Being so far from home we were more a family unit than a typical shared house. Everyone had a duties partner and each ‘couple’ had their chance of cooking a proper meal once a week. However, as I could not cook my partner would only allow me to watch and clean. The one day, seeing me wielding a knife, he removed the danger from my hands and asked me to please sit out of harms way.

To return the kindness I offered to iron his shirt whilst he cooked dinner. All I can say is it seemed like a good idea at the time. It started off so well, that is until about half way through when the iron got a little sticky and I lifted it to find a newly inserted hole. After this episode not only was I banned from the kitchen but my washing duties were limited to putting the washing machine on where upon magical little Fairies would descend, transfer them to the tumble dryer and onwards to my bedroom all neatly folded! Oh how I miss those days!!

This weekend is a busy one for us, we have my cousin’s 40th birthday party which is themed fancy dress. Americo has been inspired, suggesting he will be going as .. himself! Hmmmm. I on the other hand intend to make just a little bit more of an effort within what we have at home. Do you think I could put my wedding dress back on and go as Julia Roberts in The Run Away Bride? No? I didn’t really think so either. Undoubtedly something will spring to mind between now and tomorrow.

Sunday we are walking with friends round Henley on Thames with a little picnic at some halfway point – lets hope the weather stays as beautiful as it is today. Finally, as Monday is a bank holiday, we are off to the park for volley ball. After much beating of chests last weekend we have a tournament of some description going ahead. My money is on Americo and Bob, mostly because the are brutal and hate to loose!

Tuesday is my op so I will probably be out of commission and off the blog until the following Monday.. Until then!

HOSPITALS..

Things have been busy this week as I am out of the office next week having an operation on my leg. Thankfully it is nothing serious but I will be laid up for the week with my right leg in the air. I am really not sure what to expect and after initially putting a brave face on things have since relented and asked Americo to come and hold my hand!

Hospitals and I do not go well together. I have a mild phobia of needles that began with one to many jabs when I was younger. The last time I had one of these I was about 11 and it was the last ‘shot’ of a long series of rabies jabs.

I remember the day clearly it was the last Sunday of school holidays and I was due back at boarding school on Monday. There had been much discussion throughout the day about the best way to proceed. I was arguing the side of “let’s not have it done” (I think dad was almost convinced .. aware of the impending pandemonium) however mom remained resolute. I must mention that, although mom was stoic, she was also dreading taking me to get it done.

Dad, having previous physiological scarring from one of these trips refused to be involved. And so it was that Julian, my big brother, was roped into joining us - all the time questioning why anyone would need to be on hand for his little scrap of a sister? The reason was soon revelled….

We drove the 30km’s into town with a growing sense of trepidation filling the car. Eventually we arrived at the hospital, my little bottom puckering at the thought of being turned into a human pin cushion.

Out came a friendly doctor commenting on my bravery, then he did a fatal thing.. he showed me the injection. I took one look at it, grabbed the car keys out of mom’s hand and ran, locking myself in the car. After much persuasion from my mom I reluctantly unlocked the car and followed them back into the ward. Honestly I truly did have good intentions of behaving myself, but when he came in for the second go I could contain myself no longer. However all the staff, having witness my previous bid for freedom, were on hand to head me off.

There was no escape; I did though manage to create quite a stir screaming down the corridors with a trail of nurses and orderlies in my wake. Inevitably I was cornered and after such a run around restrained by Mom, Julian and 6 orderlies. I am not sure Julian ever fully recovered from the swift conversion of blue eyed angel to fiend. I also understand that my reputation holds firm at that little hospital in Mutare.

Now before you start a major outpouring of sympathy for Americo, let me just say that I have improved. I now provide the ‘needle bearer’ with a set of handy guidelines i.e. ABSOLUTELY no opening the needle packet in front of me, definitely no showing of the needle and suitable distraction is a necessity at the time of injecting. Americo is looking forward with, with great anticipation, to Tuesday’s activities!

LOOK WHO'S BACK

Yip that is right folks I am back! Never before have we been so grateful to return home after a holiday, my bed, I missed my bed!!! All in all we had a wonderful time away, a complete family overdose which to the uninitiated can be slightly overwhelming. Americo and I landed yesterday morning (at a revolting hour) and decided to catch the tube home, now when we agreed these terms I thought a taxi would be waiting at the other end. My expectations fell woefully short as we trudged the 15 minutes home, me in slops with frozen toes!

We left London in a rush with Americo being caught up in a traffic jam and then, when we were out the door and half way to the station, realising that he had left his mobile… HONESTLY! Our flight to SA was fairly uneventful, seeing us land in Jo’burg on the Thursday before Easter, grab our hire car and dash towards the beach. Our ‘dash’ to the beach was a 7 hour long drive with masses of junk food and rubbish radio. Luckily for Americo I kept him entertained by singing all my old childhood travelling songs – I am not sure he was completely appreciative though as he looked a little tooooo relieved when we reached the guest house..

In case you are thinking that our soirée in deepest, darkest, Africa was just another jolly holiday, you would be wrong. We were all gathered for the very special wedding of my cousin Sara to her VERY lucky Irishman, Colin.

We took Sara on a final ‘ladies night’ prior to the big day, an ET (Emergency Taxi) was hired for the night to collect the girls at Wedding HQ for an evening of debauchery. For those who do not know about ET’s, let me explain… Unfortunately there is no public transport system to speak of in South Africa (they are hoping to remedy this prior to 2010) therefore leading to a fairly major opening in the market, hence the ET was born. Now ET taxi drivers have a very bad reputation, as any South African Driver knows you just do not tangle with an ET. SA ET’s are basically 10 seater people carriers that generally have some boisterous slogan printed on the back window and suicidal maniac at the wheel. Anyhow, I digress..

Our ET pulled up to collect its precious cargo of sisters, cousins, friends and of course, the bride to be. The men folk escorted us to our waiting chariot with ‘TEASERS’ written across its arse. Marcus (our cousin) spoke to the driver expressing his wish that all said relatives be returned safely and in one piece. We clambered in and settled ourselves with beers and champagne, as we pulled off Innocence (the Driver) pumped up the music, hit the strobe lights and we bounced our way out of the yard.

I only make a small mention of the seductive dance the barman gave Sara and the two ladies who were hurling the van by the end of the night. Suffice to say a great time was had by all with many a hang over the next morning.

Now on to the main event – The Wedding, it was beautiful. Sara looked stunning, Colin dashing and the venue was amazing. Set in a gated development in one of the few forested areas on the northern beaches coastline. Weddings are really such happy occasions, the celebration of love, uniting families and gathering the clans. So a special mention to Sara and Colin, may your marriage be filled with happiness, kindness and much laughter.

Americo seems to have gathered quite a fan club with the petite ladies on our holiday. Obviously I think my husband is the most handsome and best of men and it seems others do to! One young lady in particular saw A & I swimming in the sea and turned to her aunt saying ‘Oh, there is Americo, you know the man wearing the blue shirt at the wedding .. isn’t he dreamy!’ The aunt explained to me that she was shocked that her 13 year old niece was taking such a keen interest in the male species. However I do understand her sentiments!

Along with all his other attributes Americo has the patience of a Saint, well he would need too really as he is married to me. Tanya and I decided after a particularly tiring day at the beach to sit down and play a game of scrabble. Amber, my niece expressed a wish to join us which was not reciprocated by the sisters. In a moment of inspiration I said ‘Sweetheart, where is your uncle Americo?’ Off she tootled, coming back a minute later saying
‘He is in the bedroom but has closed the door and put the side table across it!’. Very poor show uncle Americo…

‘Well,’ says Tanya ‘Why don’t you read to uncle Americo from the other side of the door?’

Off she went and so Tanya and I spent a pleasant hour playing scrabble. After a time we noticed that all was a little too quiet and decided to seek out both Americo and Amber. This is how we found them, a dozy Americo lying in bed, half asleep, being read a riveting version of The Princess and the Pea by a very proud Amber. Such a gentle moment!

Unfortunately I think it is time I closed this post as I seem to have written a novel.

THE FINAL COUNTDOWN...

That is right folks Americo and I are into the final countdown before we hit the airport and fly out of here. What a last few days… Our weekend was hectic with me suffering from bad moods and the flu.. which really assisted said bad mood. Americo thought I was a delight and is eagerly looking forward to the next time I am ill…….

The DS side of the family came to us for lunch on Sunday which was wonderful, for us – I am not so sure about them. No sooner had we finished eating than Americo roped his brother, Mario, into ‘assisting’ with the fixing of all odd jobs around the house. Refitting skirting boards, waterproofing the showers etc, etc. At the end of it he (Americo) looked at Mario with a beatific smile on his face and said, ‘next time you should come for the weekend’. Chances are slim - especially when Americo suggested sending out a ‘to do’ list in advance! He is nothing if not an optimist.

I am not sure if I have said this before but I love shoes. Beautiful shoes are my downfall, however I have been very good and abstained from all shoe shopping compulsions. That is until I saw the most striking pair of red heels begging to be adored. And so, I rushed home to my best of husbands and BEGGED! Explaining how forlorn they looked in the shop window and, as I am the most deserving of wives, they should come home to me. After much deliberation and discussion it was agreed that they were to be mine - I cannot lie, Americo discussed, I utilised coercion and blackmail! Well what is a girl to do?

Anyway on Monday, after dashing home to meet the dishwasher repairman.. who arrived an hour before schedule, leading to huge irritation as I missed him. I thought it was the perfect time to go and collect my heart’s desire. Oh they are lovely and would you believe the last pair in my size – it was meant to be.

I was so enamoured that I wore them into work on Tuesday. Sadly the pretty red shoes did not feel the same way about my feet as I felt about them. After my charitable deed of bringing them home they made a vicious and completely unprovoked attack on my feet! I think in future they will be worn with care, to a bar where not much standing or walking is required!!

On that note I am off to SA, I will try to write if I get a chance between body surfing and sunning myself. If not, a wonderful Easter to all and I shall update you on our adventures upon my return.

INVASIONS .. AGAIN!

Last night I received a call from my cousin whose mother’s farm has been invaded… again. My aunt no longer lives on the farm but rents it out to a young family. Anyhow I don’t know the full details, or whether anyone was hurt, but hearing these things starts an immediate chain reaction.

I call Americo to top up our phone card and desperately try to reach my parents. They only have mobile phones and signal in Zim is erratic, at the best of times. It takes about 30 minutes of continuous redialling to eventually, possibly, MAYBE get a ringing tone.

These calls of potential threats to family and friends happen often. I have learnt to control my urge to panic and realise that the chances are my parents will be okay… eventually I will manage to get through. That is the logical side of my brain, but a little voice whispers.. ‘yes, but what if this time it’s different?’

This week Zimbabwean’s had so much hope for our country. Yes Mugabe is still the figurehead but change is coming our way. I wish I could say that my voice joined those of the true optimistic, but it did not. I have watched Zimbabwe flounder and fail so many times, had my hopes dashed and watched my parents struggle in a doomed economy.

Now just as there is a resurgence of hope what happens? Well the ‘war veterans’ have been advised that they have carte blanch to re-invade land, even those properties returned via court order. The story has it that this spate of lawlessness includes an expiry date of 21st February 2009 – ironically Mr M’s B.day celebrations are on this day.

It makes you wonder what little bobby dazzler he has up his sleeve? Rumours are rife that the ‘high chief’ will be retiring after his b.day. We shall see, we shall see.

In the meantime it looks as though things for Mr Tsvangirai will be off to burning start..