Note: the tooth fairy is actually a tooth mouse.

Popularity: 5% [?]

By FAATIMAH HENDRICKS

Although I am just over two decades old I can now say to teenagers and little kids “When I was a girl” or “when I was a little child” or even “In MY day”.

Times have changed and is still in the process of changing. With a teenage brother and a sister who hasn’t reached the double digits yet, I can see this.

When I was at primary school I played Hopscotch. Who remembers jumping around from block to block? I played marbles with the boys during interval (and I beat them most times, might I add). I played Red Rover with them (and I am proud to say I out ran them).

I played with a spinning top, perhaps the action is better known as “kapping tol”. I loved my Coca Cola yoyo! I played Buck Raages. I played Kennetjie (that’s the one where you throw the sticks, right?).

And while I was an only child I played “school school” with my imaginary students. I even gave them a hiding when they didn’t listen to me!

I’m from the era where I got a hiding at primary school. And my parents encouraged my teachers! And I had to take it like a woman. Now the kids are attacking the teachers. And what comes out of these kiddies’ mouths are “you have no right to hit me”, “it’s abuse”, “I will take you to the police”. Oh, how times have changed.

My brother came along and he played with marbles and spinning tops for some years in primary school. Soon after it fizzled out. And then I never saw or heard of kids playing with them. I don’t recall him ever having a real yoyo, or being able to swing one properly.

Now, I’m not sure if this is because my bro and sis go to “white” schools and I went to a “coloured” school… or what? I will tackle race and “white areas” and “coloured areas” on another day. That’s a heavy topic.

My sister arrived on the planet and she has never owned a yoyo or a tol. She doesn’t know how to play all the hopscotch games and she has never played “school school” or “housie housie” on her own.

Now they come home from school and occupy their time with the internet and online games. Lil sis even has her own email address! And she so wishes she had a Facebook account. But I insisted that FB is not for little girls. Can’t have my angel be exposed to stalkers!

On another note. Are there still pen-pal columns in magazines? I used to look for the ideal pen-pal in People magazine when I was about 11. I never actually got round to finding that person because I sooooo wasn’t going to give my address! Yes, I am paranoid. I know.

Do people actually still look for pen-pals? And post letters? All you need to do now is have Twitter and Facebook accounts and randomly follow/add people. And voila! You instantly have friends from all across the globe. No need to go hunting for them anymore.

I can proudly say that I have had the experience of licking a stamp and sticking it on a letter a few times before. And then putting the letter in that red box. I wonder how often people still do that and how often Postman Pat empties that red box. And I wonder how many children “of today” have licked stamps.

I’m really not even on the planet for very long, yet I can talk about Chappies bubblegum being 10c and Wilson blocks being 20c. Now they are 30c and 60c, if I remember correctly. Or is 711 being skelm? Do you still get 50c chips?

Ok, I know the price differences aren’t, like, major. But at least I can say “When I was a girl…”

* Faatimah Hendricks is a Cape Town journalist, blogger and honours student. Click here to go to her blog.

Popularity: 11% [?]

By DAVID MACGREGOR

Last year I fell in love with a goat. Now I am not so sure.

It’s goat’s life…TK the confused Transkei goat chills with the hounds. Pic: David Macgregor

Standing in my once beautiful garden – staring at foliage stripped barer than the aftermath of the Hiroshima “A bomb” – I am in two minds whether to keep the beast, or slap it on the next barbie. Problem is TK has become more than just a set of chops or a rack of ribs – he is now part of the family.

Riding back to Port Alfred from the Dispatch @Venture roadtrip in the Transkei last year with my son and the furry ball of fluff on a motorbike seemed like fun at the time – and then he grew up and became bigger and badder than my dogs. Always eating and pooping bullets all over the place, sometimes I think I would better off if I had not contracted Pondo Fever and fallen in love with a goat.

Newspapers, washing, car seats – you name it – nothing is safe when TK gets the munchies. He is like a goat tsunami. That is when I think about taking him off behind the packshed and sending him to goat chop lalaland.

Sharpening the knives in my mind, licking my chops and thinking about the amount of nyama on the beefy yellow-eyed beast’s body, it usually takes a glance from the other two, two legged kids I have to convince me otherwise. Problem is my offspring have given him a name and it would be like killing their brother.

A confused critter, I am still trying to work out whether the goat realizes he is in fact a goat. After months of running with the hounds, he has developed a tendency to make his back hair stand up when he is angry – just like his pooch pals.

He is no longer a goat and is certainly not a dog either – friends explain his personality as that of a doat. He loves cruising around in the car and walking on the beach on a lead with the dogs. But, taking him for a splash is hard work. Trying to dodge inquisitive dogs and trigger happy people asking to pose for pictures with TK is a nightmare.

My kids have now twigged on the idea of using their furry friend to generate some pocket money. Tired of the endless photocalls, five year-old Kye thinks he can charge people R5 a time.

Goat tsunami…TK chomps up a storm. Pic: David Macgregor

One trip to East Beach with the missus – dressed in black – drew screams from across the Kowie River as she walked down the pier with TK. “Look a goat,” some drunkard shouted. “I think she is going to sacrifice it on the pier,” the madman continued.

Sheepishly she bundled him into the car and went walkies at a quieter spot.

I don’t know how long goats normally live for, but I think I am stuck with the beast – at least until the kids leave home. By that time I should be grey and living in the “Goatbi” desert and TK will probably be too tough to slap on the barbie. Maybe a Christmas braai and a white lie to the kids about how he ran off to join the circus is a better idea?

* David Macgregor a.k.a. Gwava is the wayward, surf-loving Port Alfred correspondent for the Daily Dispatch newspaper. Look out for his blog, Davey Jones, on the Dispatch’s website soon. Click here to read about the start of the stormy relationship with TK, the goat.

Popularity: 16% [?]

Productivity drops over the school holidays for the parent who works from home, especially in winter when inclement weather keeps the kids indoors. There are just so many puzzles that can be done, pictures drawn and videos watched on a rainy day until cabin fever sets in.

Let’s face it. What would you do? Test your imagination to come up with a new game or go bug mom or dad? At the very least you’ll squeeze a sweetie out of them as they buy 10 minutes more on their computer.  

I have an ace up sleeve and escape to a friend’s office two days a week so I can get some quality graft time — and adult banter but it has got me wondering why, when most of us can afford to spend so little time with our children, they drive us crazy when we do have the luxury of a lengthy stretch of quality time with them?

Like many parents, I view the school holidays with some trepidation and, I do not lie, if you’ve ever wondered into a shopping mall on the first day of term you can see visably joyous mothers relishing being out and unemcumbered their little bundles of demands.

In the last summer holidays, I ran into a friend of mine (a father of a  6-year-old boy) who was taking two weeks off work to be solo parent. He confessed he was at the end of his tether so I suggested he come round to my place in the afternoon and we’d drink beers at the pool side while the kids frolicked in the water.

He turned up brandishing a bottle of vodka, saying he needed something stronger. I unearthed a bottle of gin but couldn’t locate the shaker (my martini daze are long behind me) nor did I have vermouth so we mixed the hooch up with ice in a tea pot and knocked it back with a twist of lemon rind.

The fraught father  was visably relaxed after his second. 

Popularity: 20% [?]

There’s only two things you need to know today:
1. Here’s the oddest story you’ll read all year: that stats show that the UK has more violent crime than SA. True’s Bob! Hard to believe, I must say, and I think our gun-toting culture may be a more fatal form of violence than the knife-happy British version. There’s also the suspicion that a lot of SA crime (especially rapes) go unreported but nevertheless read the figures in the story at The Times and decide for yourself.

2.  If you have kids under the age of 10 you’ll be interested to know (and impart to your mini palaeontologists) that the fossils of three new species of dinosaurs have been discovered in Australia, including a meat-eater larger than door-opening velociraptor in Jurassic Park. Read the story here at News24.

Popularity: 3% [?]

Five things you need to know about SA today

1. News 24 says SA’s banks have quietly reintroduced  100% home loans for the cheaper side of the residential property market. Read the story here.

2. And if you’re a lager lout but are into soccer, there’s a cheap wine targetting you in honour of 2010 under the Bafana Bafana brand. The wine comes from Northern Cape producers Oranjerivier Wine Cellars and Afriwines and will go for between R25  and R35. I can’t decide if this marketing genius or from the Far Side. Click here to read the story at The Times.

3. The sardines are making their way up the coast and are soon to hit East London so, East Coast folk, pack your binoculars in the cubby hole and keep an eye out for whales and dolphins. Read this interesting story about killer whales frolicking (with a dolphin carcass) off East London at the Daily Dispatch. Cool pic too!

4. IOL’s Babynet has a fun story about kids bonding more with TV characters like Bob the Builder than their own parents.  My child’s favourite show is Louis, the amazing artistic rabbit who draws things, so I guess that’s OK.  Read the story here.

5.  And on serious matters, Business Day reports that the Judicial Service Commission says it will start its hearing of the dispute between Western Cape Judge President John Hlophe and the judges of the Constitutional Court from scratch after  deciding not to appeal against a high court order.  Read it here. You won’t be able to escape your fate forever, Mr Judge President.

Popularity: 5% [?]

And so to planting! After scouting the garden for a sunny spot and doing a bit of Internet research, I headed off to the nursery on Saturday and spent R215 on four bags of compost, one bag of mulch, seven plastic seed trays, one Margaret Roberts Super Charger (to put on the seedlings two weeks after they germinate) and one one pot of dill (one of my favourite herbs, especially with scrambled eggs).

The irrigation pots around which I planted the veggie seeds.

My husband dug two bags of compost into soil about the size of a door and we put into action our water-wise irrigation system, which involves planting old plastic pots into the soil around which you put the veggies. The idea is when they start to grow, you put the water in the pots so that it reaches the roots without evaporating from the surface. Neat!

As we worked, my daughter gave up on turning compost into the soil and belted out gardening songs with gusto while tapping out a jig on a bag of compost bag. Then Dad took her off to put some beans in cotton wool and she built a game reserve for them (complete with a Crazy Clay elephant) and a dinosaur land to amuse them the beans.

I’ve opted to plant a ring of beans, radishes and cucumbers around each irrigation pot as, after researching companion planting, I discovered the three grow well together. I also found that onions love tomatoes but keep them away from the beans. Sounds a bit dire.

Around another pot, I plated cress seeds. It was satisfying work and I surveyed my veggie patch with great pleasure as the sprinkler sprayed them like a gentle rain.

One day there will be veggies.

Everytime I pass the bathroom window, I can see the bare earth and think fondly of little seeds under ground, moist and warm, working their way to my dinner plate or at least for on top of a piece of toast and cottage cheese. But there are also a few worries. How do I keep the cats from scratching around the patch and pooing in them and then there are those flocks of hadedahs, who cruise the garden, pecking at the lawn. I’m guessing my bright blue cucumber seeds might prove a tasty treat.

As I’m still not sure that seeds directly into the garden will work, I decided to hedge my bets by planting the beans, radishes, cucumbers and cress in seeds trays along with coriander, chives, aubergines, tomatoes and onions.

I have to say setting up seed trays was more labour intensive than just sowing seed directly into the garden. My back ached as I fiddled around with the trays to get the right mix of compost and soil (I just used soil
directly from a bare patch in the garden). Respect for my old varsity buddies who have become permaculture nuts. This gardening lark is hard work.
I found a Margaret Roberts article in a magazine about planting seed trays of chamomile written for children and followed it religiously. I wet the soil before I popped the seeds in, have covered them with cling film and plan to water them from the trays on which they sit to keep them moist and happy. Let’s see what happens.

So far I’ve spent R329. That would be about two bags of groceries at the Spar.

Popularity: 14% [?]

Stress. Where does that word come from? A Google search turns up that the word comes from the Latin “stringere”, meaning to “draw tight” but the concept of our environment causing psychological pressure comes from the 1930s work of Walter B Cannon, who studied the effects of stress in animals and people. One of the first scientific attempts to explain stress-related illness was made in 1946 by physician Hans Selye. Read an Ecyclopedia.com entry on stress for more here.

I used to think that office workers climbing the corporate ladder had the monopoly on stress (when I was a stressed out office worker) but now I blog at home in between doing website content work to make a buck or two and bringing up my four-year-old daughter — and, guess what?, stress is still weighing me down.

Read the full story

Popularity: 7% [?]

With one swift movement, Jack smashed the net into the water. “I can’t believe it,” he yelled, hopping up and down in the rock pool. “I’ve got a fish. I’ve got a fish.” My six-year-old nephew had caught his first fish — and not a silly little bully but a 10-centimetre spotted guy that looked a lot like a puffer fish.

“Don’t touch it,” I yelled, leaping over rocks to get to him, “it could be poisonous.” After decanting it into a bucket, Jack called over his cousin to show it off and then, after peering at it and discussing it at length, they set it free to go back to its family. Jack will never forget this moment, I’m sure.

Jack and his dad on a recce.

Read the full story

Popularity: 8% [?]

Remember this Matrix-inspired VW ad that arrived just before the holidays last year? It seems the exaggerated fight scenes were too much for some viewers on the other side of the Pond.

Your post’s URL:http://www.sablogzone.com/carzone/?p=1724

Popularity: 2% [?]