Charlie's Bird

living the dream with Charlie and Thandi and chirping all the way back to the nest.

Archive for January, 2017

Wild Womening

…guys, in 2 more sleeps I depart for the Wild Women on the Run 2017 adventure! I am the team doctor, and have been sorting out all my medical kit, getting my running stuff sorted too and am so looking forward to 4 days of Wild Coast running and cavorting! Bring it on!

In other news, I did a speed session this morning, and it seed to be better than before, my shin, that is, not so much my tortoise speed. I am getting it strapped tomorrow, and then I am A for Away!

Charlie is coming along as the sherpa/bolly boy (he said he’d smack me if I called him that, so I am using it repeatedly at home!) (A Bolly Boy is the guy who transports our kit and serves us our bolly (bubbly) on our arrival at our various destinations!) It’s a bit of a thing, and he has had some instructions – I am on this as a Wild Women, not as Charlie’s Bird, so I get to play with my friends, with no raising of eyebrows or rolling of eyes, gnashing of teeth. There’s going to be oestrogen – a lot of it! But it is kinda nice knowing that he is there, tootling along too.

Anyway, if anyone feels inclined to sponsor me, give me a shout – drrobyn@eject.co.za (this email address will disappear in 2 days, so do it now!) We raise funds for African Angels (a local school) and Busfare Babies (a midwife offering cost effective deliveries to rural moms).

Tri-ing

…so watching the Ironman in my home town this weekend got me thinking. You really do see all sorts of people out there – lean and mean muscular machines, athletic types, weekend warriors in good nick and then there are the warriors in loud trisuits, that do nothing to hide their dietary indiscretions – BUT, they are all there, doing the same triathlon on the same route and in the same heat. And I guess that once again, it was a good reminder to me, who (yet again) feels like a fake runner, that it does take all sorts to make the world go round, all sorts to compete in an event. And that not everyone is winning the race and the prize money; but they are all fighting those demons in their heads, and getting out there and doing it.

So, time to pull myself together, and get out there and bloody run; bugger what the rest of the field thinks of me (even if they are laughing at me behind their hands).

(Please note, the attitude adjustment may not last, but I am tri-ing)

(and no, I won’t be doing a triathlon – I do not have the time to do enough running, let alone train 3 disciplines!)

As I was saying

…I’m not quite sure what my silence means.

What I can tell you is that

  • I am extremely busy at work. It’s been go, go, go! Roll on 1 March when my new partner arrives!
  • My shin injury is persistent, and I have taken a small break this week, after a very very tough and humbling run over last weekend.
  • I have some great friends.
  • I have the best little family.

Golden

…sometimes silence is golden. Sometimes it means the demons are screaming and cacophony-ing, hooting and yelling in my head, drowning out any real words. Sometimes it means the thoughts are going so fast in my brain that I am battling to put them down in words.

I’m not sure what my silence means at the moment…

 

evoking

…memories.

Running along 2 days ago, the acacia trees are in bloom. I know for many people this means an acute exacerbation in their allergies, fortunately not so for me. What it does do for me is evoke memories of our honeymoon in the Baviaanskloof. The acacias were in full bloom, and in the heat of that kloof, the scent was almost exaggerated. This sweet honeyed smell. 8 Years ago and in an instant I am there, driving along a dirt track, entering farm gate, caught up in my love…

Love you, my Charlie!

Blessings

…can I just reiterate (if only to myself) how blessed I am. I know many days I am a moanypants and feel isolated, alone and desperate; but every now and again, a little bit of magic happens that makes me almost fall to my knees in wonder at how I am blessed.

This morning, under a cloudy sky, with sweat dripping off my nose, a friend said something to me that made such a profound impact on me. I’m not going to go into the nitty gritty of the conversation, because that requires a long back story, but basically reminding me that I am enough.

So, SS, thanks so much. You’ve made my day seem sunshiny and bright and light.

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Blessed with incredible friends.

My Mama

…turns 80 next month. Her health has deteriorated so, that I am increasingly aware of possible lasts. It’s very sad, but it’s also not nice to see her so sad and tired and sore. I miss my mommy.

Anyway, in preparation for this birthday I am busy collecting her recipes into a photo book. I am loving paging through her old handwritten recipe books, seeing the little notes

  • this one is gorgeous.
  • scrummy.
  • made this one for dinner with Clive.
  • from so&so from Ida – a light cake. They had the camp next to us at Ntlonyana.
  • made for Round Table – fed 20.

There are the letters that people wrote, agreeing to hand over their recipes after birthday parties, christmas parties and such. And I have even managed to pinch her mom’s book, my Granny Nat’s recipe’s. I never knew her, she died shortly after my parents were married, and that is ask very very special. I’ve heard her voice once on the record that was made for my mother’s 21st birthday – voice notes of the 50’s; and now I have her recipe book. It’s like I am getting a glimpse of who she was. Wonderful according to my mother, a battle axe from my father (but then a son-in-law should say that about his mom-in-law, not so?)

Agh, it’s all so bittersweet. Excuse me while I sort out this mascara that is running…