Our Science.

I read this and I thought of us and the conversations we’ve had.

One night we had this conversation.

And I thought of our science. You and me. And how our story will continue. Always.

“I do not know whether or not science will formulate its grand theory of the universe. I know that it will not make it any easier to read the plain text of our hearts.

It is plain but it seems like a secret alphabet. We train as our own Egyptologists, hoping the fragments will tell a tale.

We work at night as alchemists, struggling to decipher the letters mirrored and reversed.

We are people who trace with our fingers a marvelous book, but when we turn to read it again, the letters have vanished.

Always the book must be rewritten. Sometimes a letter at a time i.e can do.”

The.Powerbook or Gut Symmetries. Can’t quite remember.

Jeanette Winterson

Book Love amongst Other Things.

It is no secret that Daniel loves all manner of books and paper. Sometimes to eat and sometimes to read. And sometimes to destroy in seconds if it is of the magazine kind.

5 months

(Please excuse the non-zen mess in the background)

7 months. See, not kidding.

So I didn’t feel guilty at all when I went on a book retail therapy spree the other day.

I find myself reciting this one to myself, sometimes in public.

Daniel loves this book especially the terrible-teeth-in-his-terrible-jaws bits. Frankly I quite fancy these bits myself.

Olivia is an awesome pig.

Olivia’s mother loves her anyway, even though she can really wear her out. Ditto.

On the next page Olivia does just that.

I had to post this page of the book, since it really made me chuckle to myself, and also reminded me of a little someone and his mother who likes to say she named her son after the artist in question on her *pretentious* days.

I am trying to rack my brain to think who I would’ve named Daniel-Sven after on my pretentious days, but I guess I should’ve thought of that before I named him.

Surprisingly (or not) no adult (read *grown-up* in the non-dirty sense) retail therapy. And I used to read A LOT. But these days all I have time for is House and Leisure and Elle Decoration. Which doesn’t do me any good because I am left wondering how those perfect people with their perfect children keep their perfect houses so zen-looking. And then I am reminded of my unzen-looking space. Which is not only Daniel’s doing.

Attempt at Zen in Entrance Hall.

Notice ankle bracelet (so uncool), Jim Morrison biography (still pissed of  The Doors missed Woodstock) and kitsch white shell. (R24.99 at Checkers) All of which I love.

Reality.

Don’t worry, I didn’t buy Daniel all those toys. Some were ours as kids.

Back to the Book Love. when I used to read, these were some of my favourites:

(No links. That’s what Google is for.)

lighthousekeeping by Jeanette Winterson

“You are the door at the top of the stairs that only appears in dreams. … You are the door that opens onto a sea of stars. Open me. Wide. Narrow. Pass through me, and whatever lies on the other side , could not be reached except by this, This you. This now. This caught moment opening into a lifetime.”

Sometimes this makes me as emo as Morrissey.

White Oleander by Janet Fitch

“Always learn poems by heart,” she said. “They have to become the marrow in your bones. Like fluoride in the water, they’ll make your soul impervious to the world’s soft decay.”

I feel the same way about songs.

Hideous Kinky by Esther Freud

It is the story of two little girls, seven and five years old, traveling with their hippie mother from London to Morocco in the late 60’s. Narrated by the five-year old. I guess I have a little bit of hippie in me sometimes (minus the lack of bathing) and have also watched the Woodstock DVD waaayyyyy to many times.

High Fidelity by Nick Hornby

“Those days are gone, and good fucking riddance to them; unhappiness really meant something back then. Now it’s just a drag. like a cold or having no money. If you really wanted to mess me up, you should have got to me earlier.”

I love it because it makes me laugh, because it contains an analysis of the mix tape, and because it reminds me of my student days working at Musica pissing customers off.

Perfume by Patrick Süskind

I actually prefer the original French version on my pretentious days.

The book tapped into my obsession with scent and memory. I have a very acute sense of smell. Which can sometimes be a curse.

And to end this mixed bag of a post, which was *so* not my intention, these awesome bubble chandeliers by Jeanne Pelle.

Though I don't know how they would fit in with a non-zen environment.

I guess becoming a mom has amplified my tendency to become sidetracked.

No?

Daydreaming and the Neverending Wind

Despite the wind, which by the by is driving me slightly batty, we spend some time outside today. I am trying not to pass my *severe* dislike of the wind onto Daniel. The wind makes me edgy and restless. And for godsakes this is Stellenbosch, not Strand. (or *Stront as we affectionately like to refer to it)

When we were kids, my sister refused to play outside when there was even a whisper of a wind. She has a very specific the-wind-is-blowing-don’t-fuck-with-me expression that has not changed in her twenty-something odd years of life.

Sampling a Leaf.

Whilst Daniel was happily chewing on the hose pipe, I was daydreaming about setting up a jewellery workshop again. Well, it isn’t exactly daydreaming, but there are a few things that has to happen before this will become a reality.

I discovered this awesome blog let them eat anemones which features a lot of cool things, but these two caught my eye.

By Litter SF. I’m a Big dorky fan of earcuffs too.

Also in love with this.

So very Arwen.

By Melissa Joy Manning. I adore simplistic jewellery and interesting stones. It is the kind of thing I love to wear and make. This here is a rutilated quartz. Basically rutile needles are trapped inside the quartz as they both crystallize at the same time. I remember now that I used to lecture gemmology.

And then my darling boy interrupted my daydreaming by puking down my cleavage. *Sigh*.

*Neighbour Town of Somerset West aka Scumerset.

**I am apparently developing an unhealthy attachment to the asterisk.

Things I heart today.

From the bottom of my heart.

Made by Laurel.

Enhabiten Hemp and Kapok Pillow

“To avoid discovery, I stay on the run. To discover things for myself, I stay in the run.”

Jeanette Winterson has always been one of my favourites.

Today me and Dan the man

*Dan the man at 6 weeks.

will be listening to the Juno Soundtrack. Again. Because that’s just how I am. (A Pretty Impossible Lady to be With.)

What I am stuck on at the moment. So cool for kids.

*Awesome photo by Heidi Hutton from Natural Expressions.

Sometimes the Universe Gives Me a Break…

So I have just recovered from a spectacular mope. The reasons of which I might delve into later. But for now I am on Cloud F and wish not to spoil it because I do not know how long it will last. (There’s the cynical bitch I know and love…)

We had a fairly lovely weekend, despite the goddamn weather which resulted in no crayfish on the first day of season. We went on one of our usual walks in the mountains at Kleinmond and saw several orchids species, some in bloom. Also, Daniel discovered the yuminess that is the dog’s food. Luckily I know that these days Dog Food is better balanced and of better quality than some human food. According to my *bf who is an  ex-Prof in Animal Science/Food Science. So I kind of have to believe him.

Me, I have been busy with the beginning of some new things when and if Daniel allows me…

I think I love the pic more...

I am obsessed with hearts, however clichéd that might be.

And Daniel has also been busy with some new things…

Chillin' with ma dad...

Drinkin' ma beer.

K, not really. But he does have an unhealthy or healthy fascination with Amstel cans. Depending on your point of view.

Giving the water feature some love.

Discovering my Afrikaans book section.

Occupying the big bed, which is so much better than my cot.

FYI the Universe has not given us a break from the puking/reflux whatever. So I will be purchasing an obscene amount of baby wipes tomorrow and doing ridiculous amounts of washing. Sometimes the earth comes second to my ability to remain sane. I guess you can’t have it all.

*my boyfriend/my love/my man

Undress = FAIL

The Myths that Drives Moms Crazy

*Me, about 33 weeks pregnant with Daniel-Sven.

So Angel is hosting this competition (with prizes and all…) where you have to blog about a parenting myth or old-wives tale that has to do with raising a child, and whether or not you think it has any relevance today.

I swear there is not enough time in the world for me to talk about this subject. There is so much guilt that comes with becoming a parent. Guilt that you are not doing enough, doing too much, doing it wrong. And then with that, of course, comes all the “advice” and old-wives tales (and new-wives tales) from other people… i swear it is enough to drive any person crazy.

I’m with Rebecca on not reading too much. Though I wasn’t very into purchasing baby/kid stuff when I was pregnant, there is one thing I bought which I value a lot. I don’t know if anyone is familiar with Desmond Morris, but he is an internationally renowned zoologist and famous author of books like Peoplewatcing. He published a booked called baby that documents the mental and physical development from birth to two years. Since he is a zoologist there is not that much parenting advice that you would usually find in a baby book (which also irritates the living shit out of me).

Why am I telling you this? Because it helped me to understand Daniel better. For me, knowing my kid and myself has dispelled all the old-wives tales and some of the guilt from my universe.

Example: The age your kid must start potty training and also the now popular EC training (Elimination Communication training which is basically potty training your kid from birth). I was feeling a little guilty that I did not have the energy nor the time to do this infant potty training thing… and then I read in the baby book that potty training cannot happen until the kid’s nervous system has sufficiently developed. *POW* Gone old-wives tale and new-wives tale and guilt.

These days I just try to learn about Daniel, and I never feel guilty that I am possibly spoiling him.

*Lovely photo by Heidi Hutton from Natural Expressions. Cropped by me because I don’t want to publish my boobs on the internet.

Downward Facing Dog

Daniel’s favourite thing to do when he wakes up is the Downward Facing Dog Yoga position. Okay, well not exactly but close. Downward Facing Dog without the arms.

Also affectionately known as the Dog Being Humped position by me and my sister. Only because this is what happens when she assumes the position in front of her dogs.

I haven’t caught Daniel on camera in the act yet. So I’ll leave you with another picture of awesome cuteness.

I have so turned into the mom, *sigh*.

BTW he is only this cute when both me and him had enough sleep…

Middle-Class End-of-the-Month Salticrax

I swear I got so  depressed by my previous post that it has taken me this long to post again. The melancholy karate-kicked me in the stomach. Like that ad. For no apparent reason. Dammit. Must be my *Afrikaner bloed. You know Afrikaners love drama and **swaarkry.

Not that is not very real at that apparent moment. As Rebecca says. Reminds me of one of my Facebook notes. Nothing like a little German expressionism to make us feel al deep and introspective…

But back to the point. So I am broke because I had to pay for my kid’s swimming lessons. In cash. Which he didn’t really enjoy all that much. Well, he loved the water, but not so much the other kids. I don’t blame him. I didn’t like them either. And while we are middle-class, it is almost like we are not middle-class enough. That’s something for another post though.

I keep digressing. Must be the curse of being a new mom. So this morning I had to go to town to get the mail and purchase ink cartridges. Because our company’s VAT is due like yesterday and I still have a shit load of invoices to print. And not a damn cent to pay for parking (Well, R1.90 to be exact and that is not enough). Parking in Stellenbosch. Real problem. Because these fucking traffic cops are legendary. And I do not feel like wasting my money that I don’t have on the Stellenbosch traffic department. So I had to walk with Daniel in the Kango Pouch. I’d rather be walking him in the Botanical Gardens, but reality was interfering. Like it often does.

It wasn’t that bad, but it still pissed me off. Because the wind was blowing. And I was wearing a short skirt for some apparent reason. And I there was no reward waiting for me at home (like a lemon curd double cream Woolies yogurt). Middle-Class problems are simultaneously hilarious and infuriating.

So there Rebecca, now you are not the only with a mundanity-that-is-your-life post.

* The blood of the dredged White South African

** Suffering

P.S. Thank fuck WordPress has Undo because I just deleted this entire post. Fucking laptop touchpad.

P.P.S. Thank fuck WordPress saves Draft automatically because my Firefox just crashed.

“Then she built a skyscraper of Procrastination…”

This is a little about me.

This is a little about you.

This is a little about us.