Thank You Olga Bowles

Thank You Olga Bowles

Do you know what it means to be a 1%er? I’ll try to keep it simple. “The AMA (American Motorcycle Association) stated that 99% of the people at their events were God fearing and family oriented. The other 1% were hard riding, hard partying, non mainstream type people. Thus the term 1%er was born. Some of the early bikers embraced the term and decided to call themselves 1%ers.”

That is the long and short of it. Nothing ‘romantic’ or even vaguely idealistic in that, for a God fearing, ever devoted, always optimistic soul like me, is there?

I am married to a 1%er. I certainly know the definition, but in my own deliriously naive way, I enhanced the term to suit my non negotiable definition of commitment, to not only everyone around me but specifically to such a 1%er as described above (specifically therefor my husband).

Also, you may find this funny (like you do most things regarding me and my circumstances, including my holy matrimonial status), but I firmly believed since the term 1%er also represents a well-known acronym in die motorcycle world: LH&R, which stands for Loyalty, Honor and Respect, that that would apply to me and my marriage at least as much as to the brotherhood, if not even a little bit more.

It is a HUGE thing for me to know that my other (better) half, who I have supported with these words, without fail for not only the past almost 6 years of marriage, but throughout our 13 year relationship, is a staunch follower and thus supposedly committed to these exact same values.

You can imagine my HUGE disappointment therefor, when I had to realize, contrary to your communication with me, that my discovery of your sordid and prolonged (albeit more often than not ‘virtual’ / text based) affair was merely “a mixture of my own emotions and assumptions”, was and had been a 14 year drawn out matter (you corrected my initial assertion of 13 years, remember?), which made me realize my mistake of complete incorrect interpretation of the term 1%er as well as LH&R.

Here’s the bad news: It seems that that ONLY applies to the motor cycle world. Not to you and me. The dedication and commitment begins and ends in the brotherhood. Nothing wrong with that, you might think… of course you would think that! How could you find anything wrong with that, seeing that the same values only presumably apply to you when it comes to you and  those around you; your nearest and dearest, but you certainly don’t seem to ascribe to these values with regard to complete strangers (realize that although you cheated with and enabled my husband to cheat on me, I am still a stranger to you; not having met me, nor having made my acquaintance as a human being, not seeing me as a person of worth or value).

Talking of nearest and dearest. You have sons, right? Not a daughter though, right? But maybe you have a daughter in law. Or you’ll get one someday. Here’s the thing. Would you wish what you so carelessly, leisurely and spitefully dished out to another woman for 13, oops, my mistake, 14 years on an on-and-off basis of every 6 months or so, would you honestly wish or not care for that to happen to said daughter or niece or even female friend of yours? If they came to you having been the victim (and yes, believe me, these women are victims to women like you); would you tell them that this conduct is acceptable and that they should just take it, turn the other cheek, swallow what little pride and self-respect they have left and get on with life?

What would your advice be to another woman (I mean one of those you actually cared about) in my shoes? That she deserves better? That she should’ve made and kept him happy? That she should leave him? Or stay and work things out? Knowing that the enabler could still be around this time next year… and the next… and the next (oh, 14 years are long, dear Olga). What would your advice to your son be if he cheated his wife for so long and yet still didn’t want to lose her after all. Would you tell him to pack his bags and go to his mistress or stay with his wife and keep the mistress around for moral support? Would you honestly fail the ‘sisterhood of mankind’ in such a grand way?

Which brings me to the following: as a (seemingly) intelligent human being – When is sexting for 14 years really good and satisfying enough for an educated albeit warmblooded person? Enough because you don’t have the responsibility of in addition to keeping the marriage vows (which might seem a  bit superfluous to you) as well as the more mundane tasks of making his bed, cooking his meals and keeping his clothes clean and folded right? Or is this where my understanding and sudden grasp of the 1%er comes in? Is a 1%er only loyal to his/her notion and or interpretation of the term? Do 1%ers, seeing they don’t answer to neither anyone nor God, really have no regard to any other gentle and mild mannered creature roaming the earth, because they don’t ‘owe’ them anything – least of all some kind of dignified treatment, much like the maxim of “Do unto others…”.

If that’s your view of yourself then here’s a newsflash: You are officially a 1%er.  But don’t fool yourself. In 1%er world, only men can be and are 1%ers. But also, don’t let that get you down. In our (real) world, you are one too (a bit of advice though: whatever you do, just don’t wear that patch to a rally). Also, it sounds hardcore, right? And some people get a real feeling of excitement being classified as hardcore. You have certainly qualified. In biker terms, you have been true to your values and morals (notwithstanding the fact that those are not classified as socially acceptable) and therefor, after 14 years of continuous perseverance and dedication to feeding and enabling the spirit of a man who should’ve been told to fix his own (excuse my French) sh!t, deserve no less than that patch (again, please don’t wear it to rallies or dayjols), because that’s another thing 1%ers do: they never hesitate to correct a brother’s wrong doing. And when he doesn’t listen – go Google it…

Congratulations, dear Olga Bowles and thank you. Thank you for opening my eyes to the real world (and worth) of 1%ers. Those hardcore souls who are in it to win it and answer to no-one. You’ve won this long and arduous battle of seemingly never-ending misery, heartache, self-doubt and humiliation.

You are still always welcome to become one of us 99%ers (99% because nobody is perfect); claim your much sought after prize (although he comes with some frustration, a lot of discontentment and much expectation of you fulfilling the 99% requirements to making him a ‘happy’ man). Do you see why one needs to be a 99%er woman? Because God made man in His image. Most men can hardly get past 1% of living up to that image (and somehow still believing they’re fit to ‘rule’ the world, never mind their own households). Then He decided to make woman. To support and to help man (because He knew that somebody would need to at least attempt to fill the 99% ‘happy-gap’ of man).

It’s hard work, dear Olga. But some of us women don’t mind at all. Because when we succeed, it is the most gratifying feeling in the world. When we don’t… we feel like I do right now. Failing at fulfilling a role and purpose must be the most painful experience of all. But, seeing you don’t care for feelings or emotions, taking on this grand mission, must be a walk in the park for you.

Good luck. Well done. And thank you, Olga Bowles, for your determination and persistence in perhaps in this way trying to let me know (although I did have to take a long detour to find out for myself) that my Giant 1%er is not what I’d hoped for. (In my innocence and committed mindset, I’m just again thinking you might have wanted to one day (maybe 14 years from now) tell me that you are tired of being a cheapskate (s)texter (did you know that the service is available at around  R40 per minute. 20% discount on every minute over 20 minutes – courtesy Google again! (You could become rich just by staying in bed!)

I don’t blame you, though. He still is the man of my dreams. He just can’t be in both of ours. I don’t share. You obviously do. Maybe one day when you’re sharing him with the next enabler, you might give me a talk on how to live with that. But I hardly think you would be able to convince me to change my mind.

14 Years you reiterated… you could’ve saved us all some time, least of all yourself, couldn’t you? We all could’ve been happy by now. Happy and enlightened; with a little bit more trust in human kind, dignity for ourselves and contentment in the knowledge that being a 99%er is really what we all should be striving for.

Sincerest Regards



WTF??? Is daar fout met julle?

via WTF??? Is daar fout met julle?

I can come up with nothing more than a humble apology.

My tongue outran my mind and my soul misread every single line as I was pointed to believe. Or rather as I suppose I chose to believe.

I have no other words than that I am sincerely sorry.

Please accept my apology if you can find it in you.




Mother’s Day

Mothers Day 2017


Ek eer jou gedagtenis…

Vir E…

Daar is ‘n gat in die vorm van my pa in my hart
Dié ruimte gevul met onthou-jy-nog smart
Dis dalk nie ‘n lewensgevaarlike toestand vir my
Maar lewenslank sal dié leemte ‘n deel van my bly.
Kom terug! Nee, bly! Ja, gaan beslis –
Na dáár waar ook óns vrede is!
My Pappa, weer kind in GOD se Hand,
Uiteindelik veilig in SY Ewigheidsland.
“Vir ewig verenig”, troos-fluister HY
“Kyk, my seun Frikkie is hier! By MY”.


Liewe E,

Ek ken jou. Maar ek ken jou nie regtig nie. Ek het jou pa geken, maar ook nie regtig gekén nie. Ek het hom wel ontmoet en darem ‘n hele paar keer met hom deur die afgelope twintig jaar heen terloopse kontak gehad – al was dit net om jou ma se foon by die werk te antwoord om sy vriendelike stem te hoor, meesal met die versoek dat sy hom terugskakel. Altyd met ‘n opregte ‘hoe gaan dit’. As mens hom gesien het, was hy nooit sonder ‘n smile nie.

Maar, E, sommige mense hoef mens nie noodwendig te kén om wel te weet dat hulle sout van die aarde, goedhartige, sielsmense is nie. En dis juis wat jou pa, glo ek, vir ‘n klomp mense verteenwoordig het. Dis ook wat ek maar so tussen die lyne en geselsies deur met jou ma die afgelope klompie jare, van jóú ervaar het.

Dalk is jy in jou binneste jou pa se spieëlbeeld. En as jy is, moet jy weet dat dit goed en reg is so. Daar is soveel mense wat by ‘n mens soos skepe in die nag verbyseil op aarde. Min van hulle laat ‘n indruk agter. Die luidrugtiges doen dalk, maar ook net vir ‘n kort wyle.

As ek aan jou pa dink, onthou ek die sagtheid. Die deernis. ‘n Sensitiwiteit en nederigheid wat mens nie sommer meer raakloop elke dag nie.

Jou pa moes seker in sy lewe al baie keer gewonder het of hy vir ‘n jong seun soos jy, as pa suksesvol was. Ek weet nie of hy dit aan wêreldse standaarde gemeet het nie. Ek hoop hy het dit in ewigheidsleer gemeet en geweet dat hy vir jou was, wat nét hy vir jou kon wees. Ek glo hy het jou meer nagelaat as goeie opvoeding, groot woorde en voorskrifte. Party mense noem dit gene. Maar ek glo hy het vir jou ‘n stukkie van sy eie siel gelos. Iewers langs jou lewenspaadjie sal jy jou pa binne-in jouself raakloop en dit hopelik raaksien en herken as ‘n herinnering én eerbetoon aan die mens wie hy was.

Ek weet nie hoe om vir jou raad te gee om die verlies en hartseer te oorkom nie. Elkeen het sy eie tyd en manier. Party dae is dit beter en sommige dae, jare later, steeds moeilik. Ek weet net dat ek gevoel het om jou ‘n klein bietjie troos te gee met die volgende:
Ons ken God, die Vader, juis omdat ons die Seun ken, nê?

E, die mense wat nooit die voorreg gehad het of sal hê om jou pa te ontmoet het of te leer ken nie, sal hom wel tog op ‘n manier kan ‘ken’ deur jou. Al sy goeie eienskappe lê binne jou. Maak die mooiste daarmee wat jy kan en só sal hy voortleef in wie jy is en wat jy verteenwoordig.

Loop mooi met jouself op die pad vorentoe. Die volwasse grootmens buite oorskadu soms die kind binne. Moenie jou pa se seuntjie vergeet nie. Gee tyd, gee aandag, gee troos aan daardie outjie binne-in jou. En watookal op jou pad kom: Ek weet sommer dat mense nog eendag in die toekoms vir jou gaan sê : Jy moes ‘n awesome pa gehad het, om so ‘n awesome man te wees.

Mense sal hom ken, juis omdat hulle jóú gaan ken.

Sterkte. En lééf jou lewe elke liewe dag – ek glo as ons hulle wat ons vooruitgegaan het, kon vra, sou hulle net dit vir ons sê: die blye weersiens is in ‘n oogwink voor ons – moenie een oomblik laat verbygaan om voluit te leef nie.

My innige simpatie


Miskien is dit nie gepas om op Goeie Vrydag oor die dood te skryf nie, maar dalk is dit juis, vir perspektief.

As iemand ná aan jou doodgaan is dit seer, jou hart is rouerig en bloederig en blootgestel, want nooit is ‘n verskriklike woord. Die ergste is waarskynlik om ‘n kind te verloor, daardie pyn kan nie weggaan nie, al is dit seker moontlik om later vir rukkies daarvan te vergeet.

Daar is iets in ons kultuur rondom die afsterwe van mense wat net nie vir my sin maak nie. Waarom tog het mense skielik meer respek vir iemand as hy dood is as wanneer hy lewe? Mens sien dit so baie dat mense oor oseane heen vlieg om iemand se begrafnis by te woon, of iemand se begrafnis bywoon wat hulle in geen jare gesien het nie. Niemand waag om lelik te praat van iemand wat pas dood…

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Die Aarde Praat – Reblog

Na aanleiding van gisteraand se aardskudding (
http://maroelamedia.co.za/nuus/sa-nuus/aardbewing-in-botswana-skud-sa/ ) ‘reblog’ ek graag hierdie.


Die Aarde sê: Jul pyn my só

Beseer my en gebruik my op

En buit my uit – ek voel bedroë

Ek wens soms ek kan jul afskop!


Van ewig af het ek gegee

Als wat jul nodig het vir leef

En wat het jul aan my bestee

Terwyl jul deur die heelal sweef?


Ek gee jul voeding, water, lig

Ek hou getrou jul ewewig

Vir eeue al berei ek voor

Om jul met skoonheid te bekoor…


Maar in die laaste honderd jaar

Het Satan in jul ingevaar

Wat diep in my soos goud bewaar

Word nou misbruik en uitbaljaar.


Jul grawe tonnels in my lyf

Besmet riviere, mere, see

Jul mag- en geldsug-tydverdryf

Ken net van vát en nie van géé.


Verklaar ‘n oorlog, gooi ‘n bom

En skiet ‘n stompie deur die ruit

Wie huil oor dier, of boom, of blom

Word as ‘n swak’ling uitgekryt;


Dus sal ek nou die tekens wys

 Terwyl jul kamstig veilig tuis

Onder jul dakke van selfsug skuil

Sal ek die wind daarom laat huil.


Ek sal myself duid’lik laat hoor

En snags jul slaap en rus verstoor!

Sal skud tót elke wond genees

Gesny deur hebsug in my vlees!


In rook en as – met vuur en vlam

Doodsgolwe uit die oseaan

Met storms lê ek julle lam

Met weerlig sal ek julle slaan!


“Geduld!”, vereis jul in jul gier en sug

 ‘wyl jul steeds saamry op my rug.

Weet jul dan nie jul bestaan is oorbodig?

Ek het julle nié, maar julle’t mý nodig!!”


Vertaling: BB

~Die Erde spricht – Hilde Philippi ~


Brief aan God I

Ag Here, hieronder gaan dit nie so goed

al was ek waaragtig nog heeltyd net soet

al loop ek (en die H3) die (amper) reguit pad

piepie iets (of iemand) alewig my bêtt’rie nat.

“It never rains”, sê die wysneus wat van beter weet –

“It pours” – (ek wil só graag die stupid gesegde vergeet!!)


Nou weet ek mos U hou ons almal styf in U hand

al sit jy ook op jou stoepie in Pretoria gestrand.

Gepraat van strand – ek mis die see seer

maar eintlik kan ek skaars vra vir meer.

Ek wonder of die swart wolk hier bo-oor my

wel ‘n bietjie sonskyn van agteraf kry?

Ek weet mos goed van die silwer rand…

maar ek kyk dié wolk seker van die verkeerde kant?

Gepraat van wolk – ek wonder nou Heer,

as U die sluise daarbo kan beheer

sal U in U Genade só groot

ook vir simpel ou ekke kom help in haar nood?


Ek weet U dink dis gladnie so erg

maar ‘n reus vir die een, is vir die ander ‘n dwerg.

Gepraat van dwerg – ek voel so klein

oor ek sukkel om soms my emosies te train

Ek vergeet ook om by U aan te klop

en my bêtt’rie gereeld vir krag in te prop.

Gepraat van bêtt’rie – myne is vandag behoorlik nat

Ek sal hom vir ‘n Hemelse diens móét vat.



It’s not ‘just’ a Skull…

Vacant eyes that cannot see

That which was of worth to me.

The tomb that housed my intellect

(It was still there, last time I checked 😉 )

My ‘After’ look long after pension –

A paperweight of odd dimension;

My silent prompt, that underneath,

We’re all just really bone and teeth.


In life we force a friendly face –

A smile which oft’ seems out of place.

Though death proves even in despair

That neither skin nor nail nor hair

Will outlive this fantastic smile,

Which renders any skull worthwhile.

Though we may face the face of death

Before we breathe our final breath

Skulls serve as silent souvenir

Lest we forget: we once were here.


Allow me to introduce to you: AL – all the way from Bali 😉

Thank you for the newest addition to my Skull collection, Una!

He’s a beaut… and he knows it 😀

July 2018
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