Get a Spring in your step

Hmm… everybody is excited that tomorrow, the 1^st of September, is the ‘first’ day of Spring.

Spring Day, huh?

You people really need to get your dates right…

Although I’m not one to argue if everyone wants to get excited that September through November sees the joyous time of Spring to bless our patch of the globe, I must point out that the vernal equinox (Latin, ver = spring) only occurs in the latter half of September – 03:09 AM on the 23^rd of the month, to be precise (thank you Wikipedia).

Anyone who lives here in SA will tell you not to get too excited that Spring time is upon us. Today is a cold, windy, rainy day, with weather conditions looking pretty much the same for the rest of the week. Winter came a bit late this year, and it cannot seem to make up it’s mind if it wants to rain or give us bursts of sunshine with a slight chill. Either way, I see no decrease in degrees Celsius… and the fact of the matter is, I love it.

Rainy weather, you lie close to my heart.

I’m not saying I want it to be cold all of the time, definitely not up to the point where my feet are permanently freezing and I have to restrain myself from keeping the heater on high for hours on end. I simply prefer the cozy atmosphere such weather creates. Sunshine is fine, and I do like Spring… but it’s Summer that I’m dreading.

I hate Summer. Don’t try to change my mind.

It’s incredibly warm. Nothing seems able to cool you down. The heat increases the intensity of my daily headaches. I’m not particularly fond of the beach. Feeling sluggish is a total drag. Blah, blah, et cetera. I think I’ve talked about his before (perhaps I should search my blog folder on my laptop).

Canola fields: breath-taking

One thing I most definitely do love about Spring is the tell-tale signs that spread the country side. The beautiful Canola flowers are a rich vibrant yellow standing out against the getting-greener-still grasses and vineyards. The trees in Victoria Street will start to become lush and paradisiacal (like a paradise, for those of you struggling to pronounce that word). Ice-cream will become a diet staple when nothing else seems to ‘work with’ your system or the ‘effort’ of preparing a meal and eating in such heat. Lots of tasty fruit will help detox the system post-Winter hibernation (excess kilograms and body fat likely).

Spring Day: an excuse to expect or give flowers, to celebrate the beginning of another season, to perhaps get a bit healthier and more disciplined…

…and to welcome the new CO2 emissions tax (which applies to new passenger cars, incl. SUVs).

Time to take care of the earth, go green, and put a Spring in our step!! Be happy, healthy, and look to the horizon!!

Optimism… I’m not sure how much it agrees with me…

Unexpected gems = great reading

The first day of the Cape Town Book Fair was Trade Day – the day ‘we’ (I hope that I can be counted as inclusive and worthy) in the industry had a chance to mingle, observe, and enjoy the show before opening to the general public the following day. You might remember that I told you how I couldn’t resist purchasing some books before the day was out – something I cannot be blamed for as a book lover/ avid reader.

What these books had in store for me, I never could have guessed. I unwittingly stumbled upon true gems in that treasure trove of books stacked and jumbled together at the Bargain Books stall – rows and stands of books mixed together, and myself digging around for both interesting covers and blurbs on the back.

And, as stated, I was in for a treat with my loot.

I made my first contact with Glenn Cooper.

I’m sure many (if not most) of you will have no idea who he is. Neither did or do I – I suppose I can read up on him now; I’ll admit I had a look at his website on Saturday when I noticed, to my sheer delight, an extract from his third book at the back of his second novel. I immediately felt the urge need desire to procure this third novel of (what-will-certainly-contain) greatness at the most convenient time possible… which, in this case, will have to be ASAP!!

So, what got me ‘into’ his first two novels? It’s such a mix of things, I don’t even know where to start. First off, their covers caught my attention, and the blurbs on their backs intrigued me. Mystery, suspense, serial killers, and uncovering one of the greatest secrets mankind is unaware of? Sounds good to me. The characters are solid and believable; the jump between time periods in the first novel help the reader complete the metaphorical puzzle and solve/understand the mystery a bit at the time, although not all is revealed or explained completely, which is why the fact that there is a second (and now third!) novel is wonderful – for it will certainly help feed the reader’s insatiable appetite for a good story and information.

Want to know what else these novels look at?

Area 51.

The truth behind it all. Government cover-ups. Life and death.

And the End of Days.

What would you say if someone told you there were about 700 000 tomes in an ancient library, containing the dates of birth and death of all the people in the world… written centuries in advance… and all the dates noted were/are true…?

It makes you wonder about a lot of things, like destiny and futility and all the things in life you work so hard for that seem to be pre-determined, meaning that you have no free will or choice of your own. No matter what you do, that’s what’s destined for you, and your date of death is established.

Sort of spooky, wouldn’t you say?

All I know is that, with such wonderful titles as LIBRARY OF THE DEAD, BOOK OF SOULS and THE TENTH CHAMBER, I cannot wait to see what other interesting titles and novels this author has in store for us over the years to come… But first, I need to buy that third novel!!

Death, where is thy sting?

…in my arm, it would seem.

‘Death’ probably isn’t the correct word here, but it feels more appropriate than just saying ‘pain’. Last week, Wednesday or Thursday evening (most probably Thursday), I met with the unfortunate event of burning myself with the bottom edge of a way-more-than-just-tepid pot fresh off the stove. It’s no secret that I tend to cut or burn myself, injuries seem to be part of my genetic make-up, yet these are always minor incidents. How this particular occurrence came about I have not a clue, but I do not that it hurt like the dickens.

It’s not a big mark, only 1.5 cm by 0.8 cm (approximately). The new layer of skin it started to make came off over the weekend, and since then it has been a downward spiraling battle I think I am going to lose.

Death by hot cooking pot – not the way I thought I’d go, it’s seems pretty odd/ strange. But Mark Twain said: “Why shouldn’t truth be stranger than fiction? Fiction, after all, has to make sense”. Don’t we all know it.

A whole section of my forearm (close to my wrist, that’s where I bloody burnt myself!) ended up swollen, dark pink, and seemingly infectious. Ointments didn’t seem to help; we cleaned it and put on bandages, only for it to get stuck and make the wound bleed; I’ve even been taking Nurofen Plus to try and alleviate the pain and burning sensation – because for some reason, one week later, what looks to the naked eye like a minor burn is giving much more trouble than it ought to.

Yesterday I was sick. My whole body felt ill, my head was pounding, and my arm was giving me grief. I don’t even know how to sleep, because a slight turning of the arm causes a dull throbbing sensation. My Significant Other insists that the wound is looking better… I simply keep being dramatic and say this is such a anticlimactic way to die.

You’ve got to keep life interesting, after all.

Speaking of which, you wouldn’t believe what hair-brained scheme he came up with yesterday. I wanted to take a shower in order to wash my hair, and he kept insisting that I shouldn’t get the wound wet – so he came up with this ‘brilliant plan’ of his: wrapping my forearm in cling wrap and securing it to my arm with sticky tape.

I kid you not.

Apparently it doesn’t matter if you feel stupid doing it, because nobody’s going to see you anyway…

And what happens? First, the circulation is slowly but surely cut of from my arm, causing the outline of the wound to stand out even more, a hideous red ring like a mark left on a branded cow. Second… his scheme wasn’t successful… some or other way, water still managed to enter this whatever-it-is he created, and when I wanted to dry myself off, a jet of water squirted out *sigh* But hey, precaution is better than cure, right? R-i-i-i-ght…

I hope this literal sting of the metaphorical ‘death’ of a section of my arm is short-lived. It’s not healthy to think about amputation on such a fine, cold Friday morning in August…

…and it just had to be my good (writing) arm, didn’t it?

That’s enough drama from my side. Have a lovely Friday, everyone! Only one third of the year left.

Battle scars - i haz them...