Rex, the rat, and revenge!

Yesterday, late afternoon, having come home pretty weary from having done all the necessary stocking up and errands prior to the Easter weekend, I prepared to sit me down with a cuppa and the local rag in the peace and quiet of our courtyard for a few precious minutes. My favourite china mug of tea in hand, I sank wearily into the deck chair. At that very moment, a little scurry under the garden table warned me that all was not quite right in Paradise. This was followed by the unmistakeable sound of bones crunching. I peered gingerly under the table, where my worst fears were confirmed. There sat Rex, that royal rat catcher of note, proudly displaying his latest conquest. Now you'll probably guess what I'm thinking, but I'll say it anyway. Methought that the good fairy in one Grimm's tales had waved her magic wand over the nasty neighbours (who have been repeating their usual tricks, can you believe!?) and returned them to their original state.

Anyway, looking around me I saw unmistakeable signs of a Battle Royale, and was ever so grateful that I hadn't been home to witness this duel till death. Well, on the bright side, one rodent less to worry about, but as you no doubt know, to whom does the duty of removal fall, but your own extremely squeamish Suzy Q. I have learnt from trial and error that to try to remove the ugly vermin whilst Rex is anywhere near results in a particularly gory tug-o'-war, running the real risk of me chundering everywhere, as the good Sloanes say. So, never mind that much needed hot cup of tea, I locked Rex in his bedroom and grabbed a bag and my trusty pooper scooper. Of course the long tailed creature wouldn't fit into the bag, but I eventually managed to get him inside, whilst trying very hard not to look at him. Suzy Q is a very sensitive soul who is very easily haunted by these hideous sights. Just as I was about to dump him in the municipal bin already out for the Friday collection, I added a fresh poo for good measure, to truly seal a bad memory. Done! To hell with the tea, a stiff G'n'T for me!!

Sometime during the evening, (possibly whilst sipping my third glass of wine - those of you who have ever been locked up on a boat with me will recognize the glint of midnight madness with which I am occasionally afflicted) I had a vinous brainwave. I'd take Rex out for a walk in the dark, for after all he had forfeited his daily stroll with me, and retrieve the bad bag in the bin and sneakily empty it's contents on the nasty neighbour's verge. Rats**t, that's what you are. But perhaps that would be too subtle for them. Fortunately (or not) Mr SQ, who knows me too well, got wind of my devilish plan, and physically restrained me until we heard the truck coming past this morning.

Hope you all enjoy your Easter weekend.


Your ever scheming,


Suzy Q

Dracula's Den.

In the midst of all this Holy Week (during which I hate to confess, I have been my least Holy in a very long while) I had to take Miss SQ No 2 for a whole lot of blood tests, for a few symptoms which have been cause for some concern.  I admit outright, that I have a pathological hatred for hospitals and all other things medically institutional, so am perfectly equipped for a trip to the pathologist's waiting room. Yup, I know the secret slipped out a few blogs ago, that your Suzy Q tramped more than a few wards and sewed up more broken heads over weekends than she is given credit for. My dears, if only you knew the sights and sagas I've seen, but my family snigger and swear I faint at the sight of a mosquito bite these days, maybe they are right, and motherhood has softened me into a meek little mouse. But therein lies the rub. It's all very well jabbing anti-tet and lignocaine into some drunken skollie's overloaded system before doing a bit of basic embroidery on their numbskulls, quite another seeing one's own baby quivering and quaking awaiting sutures whilst a trickle of blood drips down from a playground wound. Catch Mommy whilst she faints.

Yet, I still feel better equipped to escort the Misses SQ to these appointments than Mr SQ, who barks instructions at the staff with regard to their aseptic technique. This lingo he has learnt from me, but his manner is a way of masking his fears that anything medical may be amiss and he is, for once, out of his depth.  My fear is that he will antagonize the staff into jabbing my already frightened children all the harder, as retribution for reminding them that they should indeed be washing their hands before they even think of touching any equipment or the patient at hand.

So poor, quivering little Miss SQ 2, who is also a teeny bit on the over dramatic side (I swear I never said that!) and I waited nervously, and pretended to be patient, whilst the waiting room filled up. We were assured that we would be attended to shortly, whilst four phlebotomists watched on, idly, and one clerk processed, painfully slowly, the next victims. We watched a thoughtfully placed video of vials of blood being transported to the lab, and as a mini diversion, paged through magazines featuring all the diseases we were dreading. It was a fabulous half an hour. Please, please, please Pathcare, can you rather lay on cartoons, Looney tunes and girly or travel magazines to avert us from the fears that lie ahead - they being the imminent needle and news of a disease we all dread.

Finally, we were summonsed in to the chamber of doom. Dracula where are you? Your own little mouse, whilst grasping the hand of her baby, enquired politely which type of hand sanitizer the phlebotomists at this practice used. (Subtle hey, gals?) She confidently pointed at a plastic jar, and assured me that she had used it earlier in the day. Uh oh, not ok!! She must have seen my somewhat shocked look, for she immediately sprayed her hands, but not before she had opened all the equipment, and I just tried not to faint as six fat vials of blood were drawn from my child's arms, and prayed that nothing untoward would be found. Amazing what one's blood can tell about our health and lifestyles when you think about it. Aids, alcohol, cholestrol, drugs, glucose, hormones, infection, white cell count, you name it, it's all in those little red cells we take for granted, circulating every second around our systems, and keeping us alive, and hopefully well.

And, I'm exceedingly happy to tell you, our worst fears were unfounded, and perhaps there is some minor cause for our baby's recent symptoms. As my dearest eldest sister-in-law reminds me, "your health is your wealth!" She would know, she works in a Haematology clinic, and has surely seen it all.


Bless you all, and here's to giving thanks for and looking after our health!


Suzy Q xx

Hot date!!

Well, today I had the most delightful date. Miss suzy Q No 1 (you may have been wondering why you've heard so little of her of late) is studying so hard at UCT that I almost never see her. With luck, I get a quick kiss as she sets off at 6.16 am, precisely, and see her when she gets home close to 10 pm, in a state of complete exhaustion. But this does seem to be counter balanced by a new sense of elation. This is not student life as I knew it (but then that's probably why I never made the grade) and I have been worrying, as a mother does, that she would crumble under the weight of all these demands and legal tomes. Not a damn, she's right up there, working like a Trojan, but getting admirable results. More than admirable actually, but being full to bursting with pride, I should try to temper this, before I bore you all to death. Ok, this is my baby, and she's holding her own against all those post grads in a brand new and challenging environment. Good for you my darling Miss SQ, SO proud of you, even though I miss seeing you around the house so much.

All this to say that today, on the first day of her first official vac, she invited me to join her for lunch at a trendy little place at 88 Campground road, Rondebosch called Michael's Restaurant and Deli, which everyone's apparently been talking about. 

She could manage this as she was doing a mere nine hours in the Law Library this beautiful Cape Monday. My day, to say the very least, had been a most stressful and exceedingly busy Monday, much more so than usual, but I shall spare you the details. However, doting mothers being what we are, I leapt at the opportunity to simply sit across a table from her and share an hour of uninterrupted conversation, and learn more about her brave new world. We both skidded in at 2.29 pm, being so well trained and mannered. Fortunately it was merely "a one song drive from campus" for her, somewhat further for me, but are not these the things we mothers do for love, gals?  I was as excited as a girl on her first date and we were both thrilled to see each other. (I hoped not just the prospect of my credit card.)  We checked out the place and ordered. I swear I smiled so sweetly at our seating hostess with the bright pink hair, and didn't once let my "you know what I'm thinking already" face show through. Since this was her choice, I shall decline to comment, other than to say it was worth it to have the pleasure of this growing woman's company all to myself for a rare change, but am I ever glad I never got to see the kitchen. Did I whisper a word of my well founded misgivings during our date? Not a chance, at risk of ruining a golden moment.

Miss SQ No 1 chatted enthusiastically about her studies, new friends, lecturers, fears and fatigue. Nineteen years ago I was entirely enslaved by her, suffering a similar fatigue and a brave new adventure, and whilst it was pure purgatory at the time, who could have envisaged a day like this, with such phenomenal growth from both sides? We had such a great laugh winding poor old Mr SQ up, as she pretended she was out on a hot date with a much older lecturer and friend of ours, who seems to have an eye for a fine young filly. I almost suspect he received a phone call and a tongue lashing warning him off Daddy's Darling.

It's been more than worth all the tough days, sleepless nights (both then and now) and constant sacrifice, to see my baby bloom!  I simply have to give thanks, and give you dear friends my very best Easter wishes. I will be taking a little break soon, as we have visitors in town and I'm sure that you will want a bit of Easter Egg hunt time too.

Lotsa love, and as always, thank you for taking the time to read me.


Suzy Q

You asked for more flash fiction - you got it. Hope you enjoy the latest from Suzy Q.

                                   Great Catch 

There I was, at my favourite table on the deck of my local vida e caffe, having my weekly cappuccino fix after doing all the thankless things that a girl has to do. I was relishing a golden half an hour, using the free wifi and catching up with the world with a wee bit of “me time.” Trying to ignore the not so yummy mummies popping in for their skinny lattes in their tight black lycra leggings, lard arses bulging through (honestly, there should be a law against this!) I averted my eyes from their gigantic thighs. A chilling thought crossed my mind (not that short a journey, as some of you may suspect.) Would this be my destiny too, if EVER I found that elusive Mr Right and we settled down and got going with sprogs!? "Hell to the no, "I vowed!!" I would remain forever, sweet, svelte, sexy Suzy Q.

In front of me was my hot, frothy coffee with it’s little Lindt chocolate, my one sweet indulgence, but sure hadn’t I earned it? Out of the corner of my little eye, I spied a bit of a dish at a table next to me, but one. I was, as ever, permanently between relationships. Tattoo that on my head when you bury me please guys. I quite liked the look of this guy. He seemed to be intently listening to the girl he appeared to be interviewing, and there’s nothing more of a turn on than a guy who actually listens to a gal who never gets heard.

As I sipped my latte and licked the creamy foam from my smoking red hot lips, he looked up on cue, and the wrapper from my little Lindt went whoops up into the air. Blow me down if he didn’t leap up to catch it in one fist, bringing himself to his full, rather impressive, manly height, just as I made a move to retrieve it, being a gal who simply abhors litter.“Nice catch,” I smiled sweetly at him. “You should be playing for the Proteas.”He arched his eyebrow and winked saucily back at me. “I’d rather be playing with you!” I extended a hand, “Hi, I’m Suzy Q,” and smiled my most winning smile at him, whilst discreetly tickling the palm of his hand.“How do you do, Suzy Q, lovely to meet you! You for coffee?” he asked, with a wicked grin.

What could a gal whose luck was just about to change, with rubber for knees, answer to that…?

Nice eyes, lovely smile, quick sense of humour,  FABULOUS physique, and a great catch to boot

www.vidacaffe.co.za

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