So gals and guys, thanks for all your mail and encouragement, please keep it coming, it keeps your dispirited Suzy Q going!
I arranged for the removal of the offending branches mentioned in my last blog entry, thinking that not having them staring me in the face every day would help me feel better, but the comments from the gardening team who were twice as outraged and amazed as I was just left the unhappiness at this injustice simmering under the surface. Well, that's just my way of trying to say it mildly. Their unequal indignation at this violation of my home and rights simply added more fuel to my outraged fire. Anyway, as they say, this too shall pass...
On a brighter note, the next Big Event is almost upon us. Miss Suzy Q No 2's matric dance is on the final countdown now, and we are approaching fever pitch. This was heightened by our second trip to our newfound friend, the dress designer in Simonstown. Nothing like a lovely sea view to calm the soul, and then, omigosh, to see that the rough sketch is already a fully made creation, awaiting only final adjustments for the hem and anything else minor. I had feared umpteen fittings and untold dramas, but this has been the best luck we've had in a while. It's a gorgeous emerald green, the fabric was fortunately included in the very reasonable quotation, and looks exquisite. There were a few nervous moments as we fiddled behind the curtain trying to get all the straps on correctly, and our designer hovered outside like an expectant father. WELL, our little baby emerged like Cinderella going to the ball, utterly and absolutely transformed from the sweaty schoolgirl she was when she arrived. Whilst she was never an ugly duckling, she is undoubtedly an elegant, grown up swan in that stunning gown. Oh, if I'd ever looked that good, all slender limbs and unlined skin, why didn't I realize it!?
I can't say who was more relieved when we emerged all smiles from behind the curtain, and we were all beaming by the time we left. She is so thrilled and excited, and of course pictures were on the networks before we left, getting rounds of applause from her friends everywhere. (Needless to say, they look at me as if I have two heads when I tell them that when I was their age, if one was lucky enough to have access to a camera, photos were a luxury, and we had to wait for at least a week to seem them developed after we'd dropped the spool off at the pharmacy.) Everything is so instant these days
We decided upon which shoes she should wear, well should I say Miss SQ2 and her new best friend did ("wear these darling, they are so much in the moment") and she did a few twirls and was utterly enchanting with her youth and excitement bubbling over. What a joy to behold, and what a thrill to be able to provide her with this special dress for her Big Night.
But nobody knows the answer to the Big Question...who is her Prince Charming??
As in life, dear friends, after all the joy and celebrations in our home, a slight sadness has set in, which I feel I ought to tell you about, if only to get it off my chest. Stop now if you don't want to hear my sorry saga, please feel free to do so, but maybe something like has also happened to you somewhere along the way...
I was pottering around the garden on Sunday morning, when I noticed a few broken branches on one of our wild olive trees, which we planted against our boundary wall a) in keeping with our Provencal style house and perhaps more importantly b) to eventually provide privacy between us and our rather unpleasant neighbours. How did I know they were unpleasant from the start you may well ask? Well, it wasn't just from the rough as bear's guts tone of their voices or the unpleasant manners of their children (obviously inherited) or the fact that they stood up at the first Homeowners meeting, having greeted us a neighbours, then publicly complaining about the colour of our window frames. (Granted it was a mistake, but public humiliation from Judas!) It was more specifically that they reneged on their promise to pay for their side of the boundary wall, which we even had plastered by our builder at their request. They were very tough times for us financially, so it hurt all the more watching tons of marble and travetine being carted into their palatial but garish Neo Gothic/mock Georgian/Tuscan monstrosity. You know the one when you pass it, painted that boring brown colour, which a kind friend placated me by telling me it was called "Sharkey" after it's owner (a cross between s**t and khaki) with it's oversized window sporting a sandblasted version of the Venus de Milo in the triple volume vestibule. Though it still burns, it truly does, even after ten years, and the wall continues to stand, despite "not being up to their building standards" I console myself that it is they who duck into the next aisle in the supermarket if they see me, or scrabble intently for their cellphones if we pass each other outside.
But then, I discovered to my horror, that all our wild olives had been inexpertly hacked. So even though there had been no discussion between us at all, nor any mention or even a cowardly note in our letterbox regarding our trees hanging over our wall (they actually grow pretty straight and tall which is why we considerately planted them) they took it upon themselves, late one Saturday, to get a ladder and hack off the branches and chuck them over our wall. And I mean OUR wall. I am shocked. I am outraged. I am aggrieved. I am angry. But I am not really all that surprized. What else could you expect from scumbags like that?
I feel as if an act of aggression has taken place and I want to shake a stick at them and lash out, if not shout out about their lack of courage, decency and lineage. I want to get a can of spray paint and vandalize the wall (my wall.) I want to pour weed poison on the plants on their verge when I walk past. I want to bludgeon their beastly little piece of canine excrement into a pulp should he ever rush at our Rex and go for this throat again. Fortunately our Rex slipped free from me the last time this happened and showed him, as a dog who'd grown up on the streets, who was boss, Big Time. I want to scatter broken shards of glass across their driveway and place piano wire strategically across their gateway. This is alarming to me, who wouldn't harm a fly nor scream at a flea. But where would it end? Me throwing things over their wall? Them throwing them back? Insults shouted in the street? Them throwing poisoned meat for Rex? Bad enough that I have to know that they exist in such close proximity to me, worse to get deeper into a petty war over the wall. No, that's their style, for want of a better word.
So no girls and guys, I am just going to have to bite the bullet, pay for the removal of the branches (there really aren't that many, it's the principle of the matter that irks me) and hope that a decent tree surgeon can doctor the trees I purchased as babies when I could ill afford them, to screen such ghastly vermin from my life.
And hope that they've made greater, meaner enemies than me who will lay the Rattex in my stead...
Hello again, dear friends, my faithful fans and occasional followers, and welcome back! It's been longer than I ever intended to stay away, as I do enjoy writing for you, so please do forgive me, but the organization of our fabulous wedding anniversary party, (I did warn you that that might happen) took so much time and effort. What I wasn't prepared for was the aftermath, cleaning up, returning of goods, bottles (empties aplenty) and glasses and the fun of spending time with good friends kind enough to visit us for the occasion, not to mention the rest of the freeloaders (you know who you are) who kept coming back, determined to do the final damage to the party supplies. For once in my life, I think I can safely say I'm all partied out, and am finally getting our lives back to normality (whatever that might be!?)
But let me tell you how wonderful our day was. It was everything we could have hoped for and more, to have our home filled to overflowing with friends, one dear family member, fabulous food, flowers, wonderful wines, love, laughter and the dreamy music of a great saxophonist, who just got better and better the more red wine he imbibed. It really was a dream come true, as we haven't even wet the roof of this house in ten years, having been too broke after getting it tiled. So a very happy day it was for us as it all worked well, and I think and hope for our guests too. All the months of planning, organizing, and getting our house spruced up paid off. The curtains were clean (I hope you all noticed after such a mammoth effort) the garden fluffed and replanted here and there, trees shaped, window frames painted, we now boast a number on our garden wall (not bad after ten years) and we had fresh flowers everywhere in place of the usual clutter. Now how do I get it to stay that way??
The renewal of our vows was a deeply meaningful ceremony for me, as I looked into the eyes of the man I love, with our two beautiful daughters and my brother at our sides and our friends as witnesses, and thought back on all the events, joyful and otherwise which had marked our marriage of 20 years, and set myself up for another round with gratitude and optimism. The party got off to a great start with flutes of local bubbly which never seemed to stop coming. The food (which I barely got to taste having spent so much time planning, but that's the nature of the day) exceeded our expectations and friends are still raving about it, the black clouds and the rain which had poured the previous night abated, and we all, I hope, enjoyed a right royal day. I was so sorry when people went away, and was grateful for the hard core of bittereinders who lasted until nearly midnight. Suzy Q last seen serving soup and crackers at 11pm before falling happily into the arms of her longstanding and long suffering husband. But I can see why the honeymoon was invented.
One guilty confession however. The morning after, for the very first time in 16 years, the young Misses Suzy Q, of whom I was so very, very proud on the day, went to school and campus with tuck money instead of a packed lunch. But I still made the early morning Pilates class - too much at stake!
