05
Aug
18

Die Juffrou sê “JA”!


20180714_143547-1

25 Augustus is om die draai…

My EMM (My Enigste Mooiste Meisiekind) se troudag!

Ek weet dit gaan een van dié mooiste dae in my lewe wees (nevermind die bruid s’n).

Hoe hou ‘n ma se hart dit?

Wel, as jy hierdie ma is, skryf jy… jy skryf lawwe en ernstige liedjies, terwyl jy op dié manier jou gedagtes probeer orden. Jy stel ‘n Feeskoerant saam en jy ontwerp ‘n blokkiesraaisel daarvoor.

KoerantjieCrossword MO & S - Final

Jy skryf op die wysie van Byeboerwa:

DIE JUFFROU SÊ JA!

 

NEENTIEN VYF EN TAGTIG – CARLETONVILLE
EN WILNA GLIMLAG AL TE BREED
OP SEWE EN TWINTIG MAART BEGIN PAJAMADRIL
EN NA DERTIG JAAR WIL ALMAL WEET
HOE LANK MOET HUL WAG
HOE LANK GAAN STEPHANUS NOG VAT
HOE VÊR IS DIE GROOT GROOT DAG
WANNEER KRY HY NOU EENDAG SY SKAT
NEENTIEN SES EN TAGTIG – PRETORIA
EN BB VIER HAAR GROOT GELUK
DIE DERTIENDE MAART VAN ELKE JAAR
BEGIN HAAR HARTKLOP WILD TE TIK
SY RAAK BENOUD
GAAN MONIQUE DAN VIR EWIG MOET WAG
NETNOU WORD SY NOG STOKHORING OUD
HOE VÊR IS DIE GROOT GROOT DAG?
REFREIN:
DIE OUTJIE DIE OUTJIE DIE OUTJIE’T GEVRA
JARE SE WAG EN NA MAANDE SE SPAAR
DIE JUFFROU DIE JUFFROU DIE JUFFROU SÊ JA
UITEIND’LIK SKREE DIE HELE FAMILIE : HURRA
DIE JUFFROU DIE JUFFROU DIE JUFFROU SÊ JA!!

Intussen laat jy toe dat die bruid vir jou ‘n Navy Blou tabberd uitsoek (omdat jy jare gelede al belowe het dat dit die één dag is wat jy nié swart sal dra nie). Is jy seker dis Navy, my liefkind? Kon jy nie maar Royal Blou gekies het nie? Navy klink so… plein 🙄

Jy mag darem jou eie skoene gaan koop :

skoene

…en jy gaan ruil hulle vreeslik vinnig om, omdat die bruid amper ‘n beroerte kry.

“Rooi skoene, Mamma? Rêrig Mamma?” o_O

 Jy belowe jy sal die hele Saterdagoggend opsysit om vir haar haarkapper span (jip, span!!) kans te gee om jou biker-wilde-woeste-bedhead-mopkop uitgeblaas in ‘n “op-styl” te omskep. Jy sal ook vir die grimeerkunstenaar (I kid you not) toelaat om jou na ‘n ander mens se mooier ma te laat lyk, wie niemand ooit sal herken as hulle daai foto gesien het en jou nog nooit in lewende lywe raakgeloop het nie. Blykbaar hou die grimering heelwat langer as die tuisgemaakte doodnormale ‘ek’ en met dié dat my hart altyd so maklik oorloop is dit dalk tog ‘n goeie plan.

Jy belowe ook jy sal nié in die Sjampagne invaar vóór die seremonie nie (nee, ek is nie ‘n suiplap nie 😉 en jy belowe om nie kliphard uit jou maag uit te lag, tot ná die Hoofgereg nie. (Teen daardie tyd behoort die swaar-sluk aan trots en bittersoet darem al oor te wees – met die hulp van einste glinstersap.)

Jy skryf vir jou seun en sy niggie ‘n dialoog in rymformaat vir die heildronk op Ouma en (stief) Oupa (al kan jy vir Oupa nie verdra nie)… maar die kinders love hom en jy weet hoe om diplomaties te wees en boonop het jou ma jou maniere geleer en hy hét darem mildelik bygedra tot jou dogter (sy oogappel) se troue.

Jy koop 50 potlode en sny hulle in derdes en maak hulle skerp vir die sticky notes wat jy by die Familie Bybel gaan plaas, waarop elkeen sy eie persoonlike gunsteling Bybelvers kan skryf en inplak en ook om die blokraaisel en ander koerantinsetsels mee in te vul.

Jy onthou nou jy moet nog in einste Familie Bybel met kalligrafie die name inskryf… en dit gaan beslis meer inspanning, fokus en tyd vat as waarvoor jy gebou is.

Jy laat maak koekiedrukkers van die paartjie se voorletters en bak ‘n groot spul koekies saam met ouboet… heeldag se werk. Die versiering is volgende Saterdag. En dis amper net soveel pret as … nee, dit is nie. Maar die idee was awesome 😀

En intussen skryf jy nog ‘n liedjie vir jou EMM – oor jy ongeag als, nog nooit die hoop laat vaar het op ‘n “Happily Forever After”, omdat jy steeds en altyd in die liefde sal glo en omdat dit die grootste geskenk is wat ek as ma vir my dogter kán gee: Die Hoop, die Geloof in die Liefde.

DOGTER VAN MY

 

OP JOU MOOISTE DAG WIL EK NIKS VAN JOU VRA
MAAR EK SOU ALLES WOU GEE AS EK JOU ALTYD KON DRA
MY GEDAGTES LOOP TERUG NA DIE TYD TOE EK JOU
VIR DIE EERSTE KEER STYF IN MY ARMS KON HOU
DANKIE MY MEISIEKIND, DOGTER VAN MY
DANKIE, O HEER, DAT EK DIE DOGTER KON KRY
DANKIE VIR HAAR LEWE EN ONS TYE SAAM
EN VIR OGIES GROU IN ‘N GLIMLAGRAAM
OP JOU MOOISTE DAG WIL EK NET VIR JOU SE
DIS ‘N VOORREG VIR MY OM JOU AS DOGTER TE HE
MY HERINNERING’ LOOP ‘N DRAAI DEUR ONS LEWENS TEER
GEVUL MET ONS TYE VAN “ONTHOU JY NOU WEER”
OP JOU MOOISTE DAG MET MY HART OP MY MOU
STAAN EK VOOR JOU AS MA, AS VRIENDIN EN AS VROU
MET ‘N TRAAN IN MY LAG WEET EK MY MEISIEKIND
HET UITEIND’LIK DIE BELOFTE VAN VROUWEES GEVIND
DANKIE MY MEISIEKIND, DOGTER VAN MY
DANKIE, O HEER, DAT EK DIÉ PRINSES KON KRY
DANKIE VIR GENADE, GEDULD EN VIR HOOP
EN VIR DIE LIEFDE WAT GEEN GELD OP AARDE KAN KOOP

~~

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28
Jul
18

The Pie in the Sky…


Pie in the sky

The phrase “pie in the sky” was coined by Joe Hill in 1911.  
1.
informal
used to describe or refer to something that is pleasant to contemplate but is very unlikely to be realized.
“don’t throw away a decent offer in pursuit of pie in the sky”
synonyms: false hope, illusiondelusion, unrealizable dream, fantasypipe dreamdaydreamreveriemirage, castle in the air

Suddenly it dawned on me…. and seeing I am blonde (although apparently quite educated) ‘dawning’ is a somewhat unfamiliar experience altogether.

But, here goes…

The philosopher in me always wants to (and certainly needs to) dissect all things pertaining to human actions which are either grounds for or consequences of emotions, moods, sentiments or plain instinctive behavior, which (in most cases) didn’t just happen to occur once-off for such action to transpire.

Nope. No-one alive can tell me that any particular action or reaction you took to, has not or did not start off as at the very least the tiniest memory or thought in your past (be it as a child or young adult) or as a wrongful action or deed which you engaged in (and perhaps even regretted) at some stage in your life. And no-one can tell me that anything that happens to you (albeit at the hand of another human being) has ever come as a real and total surprise.

We are all dreamers of dreams. And wishers of wishes. It’s what makes us humans and distinguishes us from animals. It’s what keeps our hope alive. It’s what makes us believe in a better ‘tomorrow’ and it’s what guides us through the occasional shadows and storms of life.

It is also (more often than not) based on what we deem to be “pies in the sky”. Those things that we either experienced in a distant past, which never came to fruition or became reality or those things we sometimes get a glimmer of  in our present existence which we aspire to or which we at the very least think not to be too far-fetched or difficult to pursue.

eating pie fall from sky

Sadly though, when we think of ‘pies in the sky’, we have to realize that they truly are just a fiction of our imagination. They ‘feed’ our ‘wannabe’ frame of mind when we are at our weakest – and if we’re sincere, we have to realize that feeding on a ‘pie in the sky’ for longer than a brief moment of any form of negative emotion (be it sadness, anger, sorrow or regret), makes one a complete egoist and probably even a narcissist, because the world (or rather the pies in the sky) revolve around you and you alone.

Here’s a thought: What if that pie came down? Would you still want to eat it? Would you care for a piece of pie that smashed all your expectations of what’s inside? Would you, expecting a sweet and luscious cherry pie, be thrilled to discover it be to Auntie Nora’s Beef Stew leftover concoction with a mash topping of the night before?

Here’s another thought: If it didn’t fall down on you, would you care if it were anything else than that cherry pie you so adamantly fantasize it to be? Would you rather keep believing, because your thoughts on the fantasy are much more important to you than the facts of reality?

Talking of reality: you do realize that that pie WILL fall down sooner or later, don’t you? The real question however is, whether you’re ready for the revelation of its complete composition.

What if you put that ‘pie in the sky’ there yourself? What if you filled it with sweet cherries and personally dusted it with castor sugar? What if you put it on a shelf (high enough not to be able to reach it effortlessly, but low enough to stay within sight, just so you can persuade yourself that it’s your pie after all and that you can have it anytime you want or need – and you have a lick every year or so and sprinkle it with a little more sugar just to camouflage the maturing odour that starts emitting from it, because you are convinced that cherries have a long shelf life and it stays your pie regardless.

By the way… do you realize, that that periodic lick of the pie, which may soothe the occasional gloomy emotion, affords enough toxins to wipe out any chance of optimism and hope anyway?

My advice? Eat the damn thing! Grab a hold of it and eat it. I dare you. And the more I dare you, the less you want to try, because you realize that all (even good) things decay after a while, however much you sugarcoat them.

Then I heard Pie say to him: “You can eat me, but ONLY if BB’s not around anymore”. How gracious, you might be lead to believe. Why? Because once BB’s gone and you eat it, she may not come running with a remedy for your resulting (food) poisoning? Because pie believes it all starts and ends with pie and if pie can’t fulfill the need to feed anymore, pie would rather see you meet your end alone than grant you the opportunity to become whole (which was the whole purpose of you becoming)? Because pie once saw you at your lowest and pie realized and sadly actually delighted in its power over you? And still does? And you, being the original pie creator, somehow have an incongruous pride and misplaced loyalty to a, by now, decayed and rotten tart eeeehhhmmm… pie.

just here for the pie

Note to Pie: Feed him. Feed him well. If you don’t, remember that you are dealing with the original formidable pie b(m)aker of note. And that once he has tasted the rotten filling of his once delectable creation, he will discard it without hesitation and bake a new one, which you will have the unenviable privilege of seeing on the top shelf of his sky, patiently waiting to plummet down on him eventually, too.

 

The offer to taste or try a little bite or even eat the whole Pie still stands. No need for BB to go anywhere. Because, although BB is not an idiot (contrary to popular belief), BB has virtues and standards and integrity. BB makes promises and keeps them, for better and (or) worse. BB considers a commitment made before and in the presence of God (who was, incidentally, invited to her wedding ceremony, by your b(m)aker), as binding and sacred. And though BB doesn’t dictate anyone to honor or respect her, she can tell you that her God does. You play with her, you deal with her God. And if there’s nothing else she knows much of, it’s that that is a fact not you, or anyone else, can ever escape.

Patience, honesty and loyalty are virtues, dear Pie.

Spiritual rot, though, is sadly, an inevitable vice.

 

 

 

24
Jul
18

Wiegenfest ~80~ Mein Papa mein Held ♥


Wir fühlen uns durch einander geliebt, mein lieber Papa,
und dass ist immerhin das grösste Geschenk,
dass Du mir und ich Dir und wir einander schenken können.

80

↑ My song “Mein Papa mein Held” recorded by Susanne Waldbrunner

Mein Papa

Daddy dearest, you are the oldest person alive,

that I know, who has loved me all of my life.

In the immortal words of Cain to Adam: “You’re the BEST Dad in the world!“….
Seeing, though, that Adam was the ONLY Dad in the world at the time and mine is one of approximately 2 Billion, it just obviously proves that you, my Daddy, being the very BEST Dad in the world, must be extraordinarily special

Papa

~ ♥ ~

23
Jul
18

Anonymity & Friendship


“Anonymity is an abused privilege ,

abused by most people who mistake vitriol for wisdom and cynicism for wit”.

poerdezmerdez.wordpress.com/…/wsjd-wwyd-nr-1

I post proverbial sh!t from time to time (too).

I get hurt from time to time (too) and I hurt people from time to time (too).

I make assumptions from time to time (too).

I am an oblivious fool from time to time and an unobservant idiot.

I am all of these things and more. But I am neither never malicious nor aggressive and least of all insensitive or heartless.

Above all of that I face (often far too hastily) my doubts,concerns and fears head-on, frequently ending up with egg on my face, but at least enlightened and fully aware of my shortcomings, faults and failures.

Forgive me (again) for the hurt I caused. I seem to get in deeper and deeper by the day. I am currently drowning in this sh!t.

I am ‘that friend‘.

That friend that f*cked up. That friend that expects a friend to scream in my face, if need be: “You did me wrong“. If only so that I could (at the very least) attempt to make it right. 

I didn’t know. (But not knowing is a law unto its own, I guess? Not knowing doesn’t justify the sin, does it? Not knowing isn’t a legitimate, acceptable response, is it?)

I was that (albeit obnoxious, unthankful, sh!tty) friend. That friend not worth mentioning your hurt to. The friend not worth allowing the benefit of the doubt, or in this case, the opportunity to fix what she broke or hurt.

The friend whose actions are now, two years later, used in a “WHAT WOULD YOU DO” poll or vote-of-confidence of sorts, to establish her sincerity or lack thereof, by mostly virtual strangers to both (bar what they post and who they profess to be in the virtual realm).

One thing though; one final thing: If said “ander vriend teenwoordig wat die lewende wit waks uit die besoekende vriend irriteer” was my very own daughter (who hardly if ever even speaks her ‘moedertaal’  even when we’re by ourselves), then I am sorry, but the chances are as slim as if said “ander vriend teenwoordig wat die lewende wit waks uit die besoekende vriend irriteer” was an old school friend who speaks a maximum total of a few (not even a hundred) words of German. Neither of which and the only ones who could possibly have been there at the time, to make you feel uncomfortable or even in the least bit unwelcome. And neither of who would intentionally do anything to compromise my friendship with someone, who firstly they KNEW to be my very best friend in the world and secondly who they knew I would never ever in my wildest dreams hurt in any way if I could prevent it in any possible way.

Either way, sadly, I still unto this day, don’t know who the irritant is…

EMM&Menz.jpg

But this is what I posted at the time.

I guess I didn’t thank you loudly or clearly enough.

Maybe if I had known that someone in my (very small) circle irritated you so much, I would have made an effort to keep you apart or at the very least made sure that you didn’t feel the way you did. But I didn’t know (oops, I forgot that that is NO excuse). How could I? Friends obviously don’t share this kind of information with each other, for reasons unknown to me (oh, heck, I seem to be constructed by unknowns). Friends also evidently don’t confront their friends to clear the air; to throw their tantrum; to give each other an opportunity to apologize and to give the friendship the chance it deserves.

I am Birgit

Birgit Coertze (néé Wenk)

Also known as BB.

The friend who didn’t deserve your friendship.

 

 

17
Jul
18

Protected: WTF??? Is daar fout met julle?


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08
Jul
18

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

BB1er.png

15
May
17

Mother’s Day


Mothers Day 2017




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