Rambles from World's End

My very talented mum always had one cupboard in her kitchen that all children were allowed to open, the “Tupperware” cupboard, and it was always in a mess. I remenber my many cousins, my little baby brother, my nephew and even my Little Butterfly having a rumble in that cupboard. They would leave “Tupperware” scattered on the kitchen floor for all and sundry to kick or trip over till it was thrown back in higgledy piggledy, ready for the next tiny fingered invasion. I recall my mum struggling to find the matching lids for certain sets and then giving up the search and just using any lid that fit. To this day it is seldom that you find a bowl with its matching lid in use in her fridge. Something unique to my very talented mum! Having witnessed the fun that was had in that cupboard I have adopted the same policy in my teeny tiny little kitchen in our humble abode at the end of the world. Little Butterfly is allowed to play with anything in that cupboard. I try desperately to keep it reas...

I woke up this morning to the sounds of rain, not an unusual occurrence here at the end of the world, but there seemed to be something different today. Unlike most rainy mornings this morning was not cold, windy and dull when all you want to do is stay under the covers reading a decent piece of literature denying the existence of the dreary outside world. There have been many winter days when I have not opened the curtains in an attempt to keep the dreariness on the outside. Today had a different feel to it, perhaps it was the fact that it was light outside and the air wasn't icy, but today was reminiscent of a rainy spring morning back home. The Mauritian often tells me to stop referring to South Africa as home because I am only prolonging the feelings of home sickness that afflict me daily. I suppose in a way he is right, we chose to uproot ourselves and resettle at the end of the world. We were looking for a different way of life, a new way of doing things and, in some way, a n...

I have a very dear friend who has a rather refreshing attitude towards life. If she were dead she would be, right now, turning in her grave at been called “dear.” She is cringing as she reads this wondering how sentimental I’m going to get and is hoping, I am sure, that I do not mention her name. So to avoid embarrassment to her I shall call her, Celeste! Now as I have said, Celeste has a rather refreshing attitude to life. She is exceptionally intelligent and had she the patience would likely spend her time studying and teaching the beauty and nuances of the English language. However, for Celeste, this use of her time and intelligence is far too grown up and rather stuffy. Yet it is something she could do without much effort at all. I am not afraid of English and I rather enjoy using complicated and little used words, I find them to be very descriptive and often much more enjoyable to use then the common everyday words that everyone relies on. Celeste, however, opened a whole new worl...