Slow weekend…

This has generally been a slow one.

I got kind of riled at the news, but that’s par for my particular course, and not something I can generally talk about without being made out as some kind of cretin or racist or something. So I’ll just keep that to myself then, shall I?

Mom invited me and the eldest today for lunch – but we went to a shop that has a whole selection of cooked food, and you just go and pick your favourites. Not too expensive either, and quite a good selection. So now, for supper, I’ll have some leftover oxtail and some sweet potatoes, with a dessert of peach slices and cream – I could think of worse things to have for supper.

All the clothes have been washed yesterday and dried today. Languishing in the washing baskets for when I have the energy to tackle them once again. I have 3 nice T shirts left after the fucks broke in. Was wondering – if you’re hungry, why not steal the food I had in my cupboards? Why steal my clothes? And not my old clothes either, my nice things. Things that contains memories. Things I bought because I liked them, or was bought for me by somebody that thought I would look good in them. I realise that in everybody there’s the innate want for nice things. I realise that to be poor and always getting people’s cast off’s must be hard to handle. Does not give you the right to steal mine though – I don’t actually care how bad your life has been.

But you’re not really stealing because you’re hungry are you? You’re stealing because it’s easier than working. It’s easier to take something from somebody that has already done the work for you, rather than to work for it and save up to buy yourself those things. You steal because you have not been taught better. Maybe your parents are thieves themselves. Maybe they’re dead. I don’t know. What I do know is that it’s still rankling. It’s still upsetting for me to realise that a thief was in my house. Looked through all my little nooks and crannies and just took whatever took his fancy. Just broke into my sanctuary and took what they wanted after rifling through everything else. I can in all honesty say that i hate those people. As faceless as they are, I hate them wholeheartedly. I hate that something like this is the norm rather than the exception in the suck heap. I hate that the country that was once flourishing has now turned into the biggest mess the world has ever seen. And I especially hate the fact that even when anybody with eyes can see that everything has gone to shit, I’m still expected to make some kind of contrition.Β 

Sorry folks. My debt has been paid – more than once. If I even ever had a debt to pay. But by all means. You carry on with blaming everything wrong in your life on the past. I’ll just carry on with living a life as best I can in the present. Why? Because that’s what you do.Β 

On a lighter note.

The sister does pottery. And I’ve got many ideas of things she can make me. Keeps her busy and I have cool stuff in my house πŸ˜‰ Here’s the latest offering…

wall sconces


Wall sconces to put on the wall of my boudoir. Made for candles. Now I must just get the candles to fit in there and i can have a very atmospheric room πŸ˜‰

The photo was taken in the cabinet Mr P gave me – he was supposed to give me two fish tanks to fit in there as well – maybe that’s why he called it off – did not want to part with his precious fish! Oh well. I can always find my own tanks and fill them with cute little neons and mollies.

Anyhow peeps. It’s Sunday night. Tomorrow marks the start of my last week at the minimum wage company. And next week the start of a whole new journey. My stomach is all aflutter already – kind of apprehensive what with starting a new job, meeting new people and the added stress of having to absolutely excel at it so they want me to stay on for longer than they thought.

And now, this song. Think I have placed it before, but it seemed kind of fitting. End of a day, end of a weekend, wind whispering through the leaves on the trees, the evening quieting to night. Kind of melancholy…

18 comments on “Slow weekend…

    • I’m eating the peaches and cream as I type here P, and it is quite delicious!!
      As for stealing, I wonder how they can so easily just destroy another person’s sanctuary and sometimes even their lives – don’t suppose there’s ever really an answer to all these questions.
      Sis is getting quite good with the things I give her to make. I’ll extend your good thoughts on the matter πŸ™‚

  1. To me the worst thing about a burglary is the invasion of your privacy. They have seen things that are private, they have rifled through your precious possesions. What gives them the right?? I agree with you, I am also sick of apologising for the past. No one has the right to steal.

    • Quite M. I suppose, had they stolen food, maybe I could have excused that. But they stole all my precious things. Not money wise, memory wise. And that is going to be difficult to forgive. I’m inclined not to – maybe, one day, but not yet even though I’m the one that will pay the price for that.
      Even so, they don’t have the right to just do what they like with MY things!

  2. Everything you say about robbery is true. Not only is it an invasion of your privacy and small piece of the world but this kind of visit sullies what you hold sacred. I cannot think of anything more devastating.

    Don’t apologise: strategize.

    • It’s such a problem here in the suck heap Tess. And, since I’m white, it means that i owe the general population continuous apologies. Just because I’m white and speak Afrikaans.
      I’ve thought of many ways to try and safeguard my property, but I’ve heard stories where they actually pulled the spanish bars right out of the wall, window and all – if they want to get in, they will…
      Might have to get a safe and put my most precious things in there, but you can’t very well store your clothes in a safe now can you?
      And I still have to deal with the fact that my privacy was invaded, my sanctuary destroyed…

  3. Sometimes the tastiest foods can be sought at your local supermarkets πŸ˜‰ their oxtail is very good, ‘cos no one else knows how to cook the damn things! Then again, I’m a little squeamish, so I refrain from buying precooked meals at a supermarket . . .

    • Believe you me, mom knows very well how to cook it – it;s just that much easier to get it from the shop.
      Since I’m not quite as finicky as you seem to be πŸ˜‰

  4. Ghia, als gaan regkom. So se Jan Brand (en dit staan even op sy standbeeld in BFN as ek reg onthou) — maar die donner het net nie gese wanneer nie!
    “But you’re not really stealing because you’re hungry are you?” No, they’re not.
    In my experience, you don’t “recover” from an invasion of privacy such as the one you have been exposed to, you only learn to live with it. There is a difference.

    • I am learning to live with it, making plans on how to make it a bit more difficult for them to enter my property, but my bedroom will never be the same. Think I must move it around, change things, remove the reminders of their unholy presence.
      Jan Brand – ja, alles sal eventually regkom. Soos dit nou lyk, die dag wat ons dooi πŸ˜‰

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