Tequila, Takuzza, Te jammer

Die storie begin etlike jare gelede, toe ons nog in ons prille jeug was en van brieke daar geen sprake was nie. Dit was ‘n Saterdag, en alhoewel dit in die middel van die winter was, was dit lekker warm op Zeerust in die Marico distrik. Ons het pas op die dorp aangekom uit Pretoria uit, op pad na ‘n familie geselligheid. Oom Johan (oupa Jôhnie vir ons) en ouma Hester (Vaalvrou waar sy ons nie kon hoor nie) vier hulle 50ste huweliksherdenking in die landbousaal op die die dorp en die hele familie is daar.

Nou kyk, in die Marico is dit glad nie ongekend dat so ‘n ou geselligheidjie sommer maklik vir ‘n hele naweek kan aanhou nie, en innerlike versterking is dikwels al wat jou lewendig deur so besigheid kry, derhalwe was ons eerste stop toe ons die dorp inry natuurlik die drankwinkel. Of noodapteek as jy ‘n ding dan nou nie so blatant op sy naam wil noem nie.

Ewenwel, dit word wyd verkondig dat ‘n mens nie moet kruideniersware gaan koop as jy honger is nie, want dan word jou inkope as’t ware deur jou maag gelei. Nou uit bittere ondervinding (verskeie kere) kan ek nou ook getuig dat ‘n mens nie by die noodapteek moet aandoen as jy dors het nie. En daai dag was ons dors . . .

In die skemerdonkerte daar binne in die winkeltjie loop ons onself toe waaragtig vas in ‘n ou kennis van ons by name Olmeca. In daai jare was ons Mexikaanse pêl maar ‘n “petty thief” en sy borgtog glad nie te buitensporig nie, en synde dat ons begroting maar skraps is, vat dit nie veel beraadslaging gevat om hom van sy uitkykpunt op die boonste rak te bevry nie. Ek moes toe al geweet het dat hier moeilikheid kom, maar op vroeg-in-die-twintig is jy mos bulletproof.

Om ‘n lang storie kort te maak, daai aand is die eerste en enigste keer dat ek my liewe swaer se geselskap vir meer as 10 minute kon uitstaan. Ek het ook nie geweet my klein sussie kan so dors word nie! Maar dit is eers veel later wat die werklike sports begin. Aanvanklik was ek baie trots op my besluit om liewer by die gastehuis ongeveer 600 meter van die saal af te oornag, eerder as om nog die stuk pad plaas toe aan te durf. By ons kamer aangekom het ek die twee draaiende katels so rukkie staan en beskou, en besluit dat vir een aand kan ons maar op aparte bedjies slaap. Daar is geen manier wat ek die goed gevang kan kry om hulle teen mekaar te skuiwe nie. Toe my katel weer verby gesirkel kom, toe is ek op hom. Ek het so deur die slaapnewels gesien Lyfie het haar kateltjie darem ook gevang.

Nie te lank daarna nie word ek wakker van iets wat klink soos ‘n baie dorstige kameel in die badkamer. Met baie moeite kon ek my een ooglid oopforseer, net om te sien dat dit net Lyfie is wat die kouewater kraan met mag en mening aanval. Wyl ek toe wakker is, dink ek dit toe ‘n goeie plan om maar dieselfde te doen, synde dat ek darem maar ongelooflik dors is vir iemand wat so baie vloeistof aanboord geneem het. Net na ek weer my lê gekry het, begin Lyfie uit haar hoek kla dat die goeters haar byt. Ons het naderhand die ligte aan, maar sien g’n niks van die goeters wat haar so byt nie. Uit pure desperaatheid ruil ons beddens, maar steeds kla sy die goeters byt haar. Sy het opgehou kla nadat ek histeries begin giggel het, en gevra het of Olmeca iets daarmee te doen het.

Skaars het ek ingesluimer of ek word wakker van die stemmetjie in die donker. Liefie, liefie….lieeeeefieeee. Huh!? is omtrent al wat ek deur my droeë keel kon forseer. Aag wil jy nie die Coke in die kar gaan haal nie, ek is nou vreeslik dors en die kraanwater smaak sleg, pleit sy uit die donker. Hoe kan ‘n mens dan nou so stemmetjie weier, en met net ‘n kort rugbybroekie durf ek die koue nag aan om vir Lyfie koeldrank uit die kar te loop haal.

In retrospek dink ek die water het begin sleg smaak omdat Lyfie waarskynlik die reservoir droog gedrink het daai aand. Hoe dit ook al sy, Marico partytjies is nie vir sissies nie, veral nie as die Mexikane ook daar is nie. Dankie tog vir spek, eiers, roosterbrood en moerkoffie, want daarsonder sou daai klein mannetjie nou nog paneelkloppery in my kop beoefen het

Jaco

Die klank van ‘n poep

Voor ek begin, laat ons sommer by voorbaat die volgende uit die weg ruim: ALMAL laat van tyd tot tyd ‘n ou windjie. As jy een van daardie neus-in-die-lug-tipes is wat weier om te erken dat jy ook soms poep, moet dan nie verder lees nie en gaan poep verder om die hoek.

Vir my bestaan ‘n poep uit 3 dele:

1. Veilig/onveilig (moet ons jou in die tuin met die hosepipe afspuit of was hy droog?)
2. Klank (hoe klink jou poep?)
3. KLANK (huur jou vrou/man jou aan Afghanistan uit as hulle biological warfare gasvervaardiger of ruik joune na laventel?)

My saak vandag is met no 2 = Klank.

Afhangende van hoe jy sit en hoe jy knyp, klink dit wat by jou onderkant uitkom, nie sommer dieselfde nie. O ja, en WAAR jy sit (tuis of openbare troon) maak ook ‘n verskil.

Ek het al die volgende waargeneem:

Hy kan laat los word soos ‘n mishoring sodat hy bulderend in die gang afstorm en hoef(poep)spore op die plafon los (alles in een go).

Of soos die sokkerondersteuners uitasem op die vuvusela’s blaas om genoeg wind bymekaar te kry om darem ook gehoor te word.

Hy kan natuurlik ook so geknyp word dat hy nie ontsnap nie en dus opborrel na jou brein toe sodat jy vir die res van die week kak gedagtes ontwikkel.

Of klink soos ‘n masjiengeweer se ratta-tattatt en almal om jou slaan dekking om uit die koeëls se pad te kom.

Fyn en op ‘n hoë noot soos lug wat uit ‘n ballon gelaat word laat my altyd giggel.

So natuurlik en tog so sosiaal onaanvaarbaar . . .

Winderig Maré

Killer Biscuits?

Wat ‘n week! Praat van emosionele wipwaentjie (dit klink nou alteveel na Wippie se kar) kom ons hou eerder maar by rollercoaster. Vir oulaas is Lyfie gou Pretoria skougronde toe om haar eksamen te gaan probeer deurkom op blinde geluk en ‘n paar “spot” vrae, en ons senior progammeerder het gister besluit om te bedank (terloops enige gesoute Delphi programmeerders daarbuite wat soek om ‘n ektra geldjie te maak?)

Maar hey, glimlag ‘n bietjie. Dis Vrydag, en nie ‘n oomblik te vroeg nie! Lees die beriggie hieronder en “crack a smile” saam met my.

Jaco

. . . adres? . . .

 

 

Kan iemand my dalk die adres van hierdie kwekery gee?

 

Krista

PS: Foto geleen by Anne Geddes.

. . . eish . . . update . . .

Een woord: eina!

Gou ‘n update voor my arms ingee en soos nat vadoeke net langs my sye hang en weier om verder te beweeg.

Eksamen: 2 down, 1 to go. Dan het ons nog 7 vakke oor om te doen voor ons die stukkie papier kry. Wat beteken: ten minste nog ‘n jaar (as ons alles die 1ste keer deurkom).

Gym: Vrydag my program gekry, Maandag se 1ste oefening was glad nie so sleg nie, cardio-program gedoen, glad nie styf of seer gewees die volgende oggend nie. Toe doen ons gisteraand die weights-program. OMW! Ek is te bang my arms val af as ek dit optel. Ek slet eerder my jeukende neus in die muur vas om van die jeuk ontslae te raak as om my arm te probeer nader bring om te krap. Ek sal maar die hare kammery skip vanmore.

Ek het waarlik my Moses teë gekom en sy naam is nie Jona nie!

Jaco is in Durban vandag en vlieg gelukkig vannaand weer terug. Ek slaap nie baie goed (lees: glad nie) as hy nie in die bed langs my lê nie. Die wosonki raak ook ‘n regte pyn sodra sy pappa die tasse begin pak en los hom nie ‘n oomblik alleen nie.

So, dis wat nuus is op die planeet van Krista. Die veel nie, net seer. Ons moet nog leer vir die laaste vak van die jaar, ons beplan ‘n weekend away later die maand, Jaco gaan volgende week Kaap toe, sy tannie verjaar en so aan en so aan . . . .

So as julle dalk lus is om te help: watse persent gee jy vir ‘n dame wat 50 word wie jy nie so goed ken nie?

Help . . . . ?!?!?!?!?!?!

Krista

 

. . . neeeeeeeeeee! . . .

Dis nou eers Dinsdag . . . !

Vrydag humor . . .

Dankie tog vir emailjokes.co.za waarsonder ek meeste dae met ‘n bek vol tande sou gesit het.

Hulle sê blogging is so maklik, enige aap kan dit doen. Wel . . .

En vir almal wat al gevoel het om hulle duur Microsoft produkte by die deur uit te gooi . . .

Maak of julle mal is en doen alles die naweek. Kom ons hoop die bokke doen beter Sondag. Ek gaan my bes probeer om uit vroulief se pad te bly. Just stayin alive baby, just staying alive!

Ciao
Jaco

. . . eina . . .

 

Ek huil my oë uit . . .

Krista

Ons hou braaivleis, en jy is genooi!

Ons gaan die naweek ‘n ou ribbetjie op die kole gooi en wil graag hê jy moet daar wees. Bring asseblief ‘n bykossie of slaaitjie saam, want ons weet nie of die vleis genoeg gaan wees nie.

O, en by the way! Omdat ek useless is met grappies onthou sit ek my grappie hier, lees hom deur, dan lag jy net as jy my sien Saterdag. OK?!!!

Dear Mom & Dad,

Our Scoutmaster told us to write to our parents in case you saw the flood on TV and are worried. We are okay. Only one of our tents and 2 sleeping bags got washed away. Luckily, none of us got drowned because we were all up on the mountain looking for Adam when it happened.

Oh yes, please call Adam’s mother and tell her he is okay. He can’t write because of the cast. I got to ride in one of the search and rescue jeeps. It was neat. We never would have found Adam in the dark if it hadn’t been for the lightning.

Scoutmaster Keith got mad at Adam for going on a hike alone without telling anyone. Adam said he did tell him, but it was during the fire so he probably didn’t hear him. Did you know that if you put gas on a fire, the gas will blow up?

The wet wood didn’t burn, but one of the tents did and also some of our clothes. Matthew is going to look weird until his hair grows back. We will be home on Saturday if Scoutmaster Keith gets the bus fixed. It wasn’t his fault about the wreck. The brakes worked okay when we left.

Scoutmaster Keith said that with a bus that old you have to expect something to break down; that’s probably why he can’t get insurance. We think it’s a neat bus. He doesn’t care if we get it dirty and if it’s hot, sometimes he lets us ride on the fenders. It gets pretty hot with 45 people in a bus made for 24. He let us take turns riding in the trailer until the highway patrol man stopped and talked to us.

Scoutmaster Keith is a neat guy. Don’t worry, he is a good driver. In fact, he is teaching Jessie how to drive on the mountain roads where there isn’t any cops. All we ever see up there are logging trucks.

This morning all of the guys were diving off the rocks and swimming out to the rapids. Scoutmaster Keith wouldn’t let me because I can’t swim, and Adam was afraid he would sink because of his cast, it’s concrete because we didn’t have any plaster, so he let us take the canoe out. It was great. You can still see some of the trees under the water from the flood.

Scoutmaster Keith isn’t crabby like some scoutmasters. He didn’t even get mad about the life jackets. He has to spend a lot of time working on the bus so we are trying not to cause him any trouble. Guess what? We have all passed our first aid merit badges. When Andrew dived into the lake and cut his arm, we got to see how a tourniquet works.

Steven and I threw up, but Scoutmaster Keith said it probably was just food poisoning from the leftover chicken. He said they got sick that way with food they ate in prison. I’m so glad he got out and became our scoutmaster. He said he sure figured out how to get things done better whilehe was doing his time. By the way, what is a pedal-file?

I have to go now. We are going to town to mail our letters & buy some more beer and ammo. Don’t worry about anything. We are fine and tonight it’s my turn to sleep in the Scoutmaster’s tent.

Love, Jimmie

Ek is jammer om jou mee te deel liefie…

DEAR WOMEN

1. From 7 Sep to 20 October 2007, you should read the sports section of the newspaper so that you are aware of what is going on regarding the World Cup, and that way you will be able to join in the conversations. If you fail to do this, then you will be looked at in a bad way, or you will be totally ignored. DO NOT complain about not receiving any attention.

2. During the World Cup, the television is mine, the VCR and DVD are all mine, at all times, without any exceptions. If you even take a glimpse of the remote control, you will lose it (your eye).

3. If you have to pass by in front of the TV during a game, I don’t mind, as long as you do it crawling on the floor and without distracting me. If you decide to stand nude in front of the TV, make sure you put clothes on right after because if you catch a cold, I won’t have time to take you to the doctor or look after you during the World Cup month.

4. During the games I will be blind, deaf and mute, unless I require a refill of my drink or something to eat. You are out of your mind if you expect me to listen to you, open the door, answer the telephone, or pick up the baby that just fell from the second floor….it won’t happen.

5. It would be a good idea for you to keep at least 2 six packs in the fridge at all times, as well as plenty of things to nibble on, and please do not make any funny faces to my friends when they come over to watch the games. In return, you will be allowed to use the TV between 12pm and 3pm, unless they replay a good game that I missed during the day.

6. Please, please, please!! If you see me upset because one of my teams is losing, DO NOT say ‘get over it, it’s only a game’, or ‘don’t worry, they’ll win next time’. If you say these things, you will only make me angrier and I will love you less. Remember, you will never ever know more about rugby than me and your so called ‘words of encouragement’ will only lead to a break up
or divorce.

7. You are welcome to sit with me to watch one game and you can talk to me during halftime but only when the commercials are on, and only if the halftime score is pleasing me. In addition, please note I am saying ‘one’ game, hence do not use the World Cup as a nice cheesy excuse to ’spend time together’.

8. The replays of the tries are very important. I don’t care if I have seen them or I haven’t seen them, I want to see them again. Many times, and record them.

9. Tell your friends NOT to have any babies, or any other child related parties or gatherings that requires my attendance because:
a) I will not go,
b) I will not go, and
c) I will not go.

10. But, if a friend of mine invites us to his house on a Sunday to watch a game, we will be there in a flash.

11. The daily World Cup highlights show on TV every night is just as important as the games themselves. Do not even think about saying ‘but you have already seen this…why don’t you change the channel to something we can all watch??’, the reply will be: ‘Refer to Rule #2 and Rule #8 of this list’.

12. Please save your expressions such as ‘Thank goodness the World Cup is only every 4 years’. I am immune to these words, because after this comes the reruns of the Rugby World Cup, etc etc.

13. And finally, if you are female and your “man” likes rugby less than you, he is not a real man and shall be bound by these rules and additionally be referred to as “the bitch” for the duration of the World Cup

Thank you for your cooperation.

Regards

Men of the world