HOW TO CLEAN YOUR IRON WITH A PANADOL

Now I don't know who was the first sewer to ever do this, but that woman deserves the Nobel Peace prize. Yes the PEACE prize.  Have you ever been in close contact with a woman, busy ironing, and her freshly washed and 3/4s ironed white shirt gets a dirty smear from the very dirty iron?  Yeah, that's why the peace prize....  

I first posted this on a foody group. And true to form, the first few comments was people telling me I should use THEIR method.  If that worked we would not be here, now would we?  And one smart ass telling me it is time for a new iron.  Sweetie, I grew up poor.  We fixed things, not chuck it and spend more money.  This iron is 8 years old, have a still intact teflon layer under all that aanbrandsel, and works like a charm when not leaving brown briekmerk streaks on my whites.  It has fancy features like self clean steam bursts, no leak tank, teflon (as stated), extra steam burst and does not deserve to be divorced thrown away because of a few age spots.  We have a committed relationship, even if I only use it for crafting and not general ironing (who irons anyway).  Unless I am in too much of a hurry to wait for the steam station to heat up, then I grab this one...

So I watched some youtubes did research on the hows... and now I am going to show you all how to do it... 

HOW TO CLEAN YOUR IRON WITH A PANADOL.

My theory on how it happened that first time, is that wifey lamented the fact that she has to re-wash the shirts because the dirty iron is giving her headaches (clearly a hint, dear husband, she wanted a new one) and being told to take two Panadol.  So she took it literally and used the panadol to solve her problem.  Here's how:

See that metal thingy resting on the pill box with a tablet in its jaws?  That is a shifting spanner.

 Get your supplies ready.  A packet of generic brand paracetamol (not the one pictured with a covered layer, just the plain, grocery store brand, cheap paracetamol, the white one.)  Two pliers, one preferably a small shifting spanner as pictured.  You need one that can hold the tablet without crushing it when you get too motivated and press too hard. Then a few pieces of kitchen paper towel, a clip to hold a roll of it so that you can pick it up with the other (red) pliers to wipe off the gunk, a piece of sacrificial fabric and (not pictured) some water and cotton buds.  

And some burn cream and plasters you will need if you don't LISTEN to me and try your own way.  Do NOT rub with the towel held in your hand.

Empty the tank of water and let it steam a bit to clear all the water in the tank. The temperature setting should be cotton or just below the hottest setting.

Roll up one sheet of paper towel and secure with the little red clip or sommer 'n paper clip or pin.  Roll it better than I did, so that you can use the inside too when the outside gets too dirty.  It will become hard and stiff with the melted tablet and gemors that comes off your iron.

Now grab the tablet (as small as you can manage between the teeth) and secure.  You can put a tiny piece of towel top and bottom so that it won't slip.  See how the teeth grabs it in line, and do not crush it?  That is what you want.  I tried with the red pliers first and after crushing 2, went to get the spanner.  Lesson learned.

Now you are going to press this tablet against the metal foot (the hot, dirty bit) until it melts.  Yes, it is going to melt like sugar does.  And the degree of pain you will be in if that melted stuff lands on your hand, is equal to that of melted sugar on said hand.  Ask me how I know.  PJ  get Ma the Allergex burn ointment please!

Just hold it till it melts

You don't have to rub the foot plate, like YouTube the research showed me.  Just hold it till it becomes liquid, and if it runs down too quickly, tilt the iron on its back and guide the syrupy liquid to where you want it to go.  It will start to bubble as it dissolves the gunk.  

If I ever have to do this again, I will build a jig (shoptalk, explained in next week's blog entry) to hold the iron on its back and give me 2 hands to work with.  

See that liquid?  That was one panadol moments ago

You want this liquid to be on the sole plate as long as possible, and only rub it off before it burns on again.  

Now grab the rolled up towel with the other pliers (NOT your hand) and wipe up as much gunk as you can.  You can also use a bigger sacrificial (another shop talk word often used in woodworking) piece of fabric and just wipe it clean(er).  You do not want to do this on your ironing board cover, because you will throw this away. And those covers are expensive. Think what melted sugar will do to fabric.  The same.

Jeghhh sies.

I will advise you to do the iron in sections, so that you can see the difference it makes.  Don't worry too much if the liquid runs into the steam holes.  Try to prevent it but it is not a major issue, explained at the end.  

Now your paper towel will soon start to look like this: 

Time for a new one (paper, not iron).  Hard to think all that was stuck on the iron you used on your whites, right?

Left half done, right bottom not done, clean spot
on right top was aspirin

 Now most of you who know me personally, will realise that the kapoernjaffie in my head will start to question things and then proceed to do dom things.  

So when I ran out of panadols, of course I thought if paracetamol tablets work that well, what would aspirin/antacid/nurofen do.  Well you don't have to do it because I did.  Here is the results:  

Antacid: Nothing.  Made a mess.  Don't bother. Smelled minty fresh though. 

Nurofen: Not much, don't bother (and NO not the gel caps -  luckily I had enough common sense for that.

Now we get to Aspirin:  USE CAUTION.  Yes it works. but.  Big BUT... See that nice clean spot in the right middle?  That is what aspirin do.  But the fumes will kill you.  Phillip thought I was cooking acid.  Still wondering how he knows what that smells like.   PJ asked "What smells like vinegar?"  So do not, DO NOT use aspirin.  Stick with panadol.  Just get enough, the dirtier your iron, the more you will use.

I used up my supply and waited until morning to get more and finish the job.

When you are happy with your iron, do the holes.  Press a piece of panadol against the larger indent surrounding the hole (see my iron and you will understand) so that just a bead forms.  Then do the other side of the indent.  Now let this sit and bubble and do the next one.  I used up a tablet, then went back to the first hole (about 5 per tablet) with a cotton ear bud dipped in a glass of water, and cleaned the hole.  You will be surprised at what comes out of it.  Once you have all of the 5 cleaned, take a new tablet to the next 4-5 holes, rinse and repeat.

Well that was fun!

Now comes the overall clean.  Spray the sacrificial piece of fabric until well damp, and rub the hot iron on it.  Keep repeating until you do this and no more brown comes off.  Once you are happy, fill the iron with water, hottest setting and most steam possible (in my case the self clean function).  Find a clean spot on the cleaning fabric and let it steam.  If it has steam burst like mine, do that as well.  You want to get everything that ran into the holes, to come out.

Check the iron sole plate, and repeat the earbud thing if needed.  Now you will have a big mess to throw away but a clean iron.  And no more brown streaks on clean shirts.  And instead of forking out $50-$100 for a new iron, I spend about $0.90 on department store- branded panadol.  Took me 19 tablets to get it this clean.  And one aspirin, but we are not talking about that one... to anybody... 😉

Musings of 4 years ago...  Sorry this is one of those times it is impossible to translate and still keep the emotion in the words.

MOENIE my vra hoe gaan dit nie, dis jou eie skuld as ek antwoord. Ek is taai. Die kombuisvloer is taai. Die kas en die katte is taai. En dis alles daai Omie Boer se skuld. Maar laat ek by die begin beginne....

Vanoggend toe vat ek mos vir Cleo'tjie vir 'n check-up by die veearts. Die girltjie is bietjie onder die weer en ons wil nou nie wag tot Kersoggend en triple die going rate betaal nie. Tipies baba is sy toe heel spiekeries toe ons daar kom en Omie Veearts dink ek bak kluitjies. Gee toe maar muti'tjies en daar gaat ons, al skrouend want die girl hou nie van hokke en karre nie, met die trek en die vorige veearts trippie waar hulle haar ook vir 'n speldekussing aangesien het is nog te vlak in die onthou boksie van daai klein breintjie. En hierdie keer het hulle sommer ook 'n ding in haar HELLOOO gesteek. Wee' jy! Sy is immers 'n klein dametjie (as en wanneer sy onthou). So met die terugry slag huistoe, toe sien ons hier staan 'n Omie Boer langs die Esplanade en smous sy wares. Nou ek is all for sidestepping the fat cats (apologies to the feline race in general) en ondersteun die little guy. Buitendien is hulle gewoonlik 'n fraksie goedkoper. Ek stop toe maar en koop 'n lieflike waterpampoentjie en 'n pynappel wat my en PJ 'n week lang sal vol hou. Daar loop toe 'n vrou en haar dogtertjies verby en hoor die geween en gekners van tande uit die hok op die voorseat, want die vensters is afgedraai. Hulle kyk toe eers en oe en aa, en sal die kiddies nie vir my se maar hulle soek die katjie want "It IS Christmas you know!" Genade, hulle mammie moet bietjie vir hulle die verskil tussen straat katjies en Bengals verduidelik. En as mammie nie verstaan nie, daar IS 'n verskil tussen 'n Calvin Klein skepping en ouma se saamflansies met die ou trap Singer. Ja hulle lyk amper dieselfde, maar ....

Ons kom toe uiteindelik los van die little beggars en ry huistoe. My verontwaardiging moes deurgeslaan het na my bestuursvermoens toe, want next thing toe hoor ek hoe rol die pampoentjie en ek ruik die heerlikste waatlemoen geure. Ek maak myself toe wys dis van buite af en net iemand wat grassny, in total denial. By die huis gekom, toe haal PJ hom vir my uit, het Peppie al klaar vies gemaak vir my met die dra kar toe, hy weeg 'n goeie 8kg en 3 is my dra limiet deesdae. Lekker gecrack, se hy. Ek dog toe eers hy verwys na sy ma se algemene sielstoestand lately, maar hy beduie toe na die waterpampoen. Ek se toe man sit die ding in die diepvries ek hettie nou tydtie. Ek moet terug dorp toe want ek het mos nie gister gaan shop nie, my kop was te seer na die Dobby-closet revenge en Cleotjie was siek en ek wou haar nie alleen by PJ los nie. Nou is ek goed moerig vir myself want Oukersdag is NIE die tyd vir shopping nie. Wie se simpel idee was dit in elk geval om in 'n holiday destination te kom bly? Mens ken die toeriste op 'n afstand uit, jy ruik hulle (sonskerm), jy sien hulle (so min klere moontlik en al die kiddies gesonbrand) en daar is nie parking vir myle van die shops af nie. Die minivans en out of State nommerplate staan alles vol.

Doodmoeg en voetseer kom ek by die huis, net om te besef as ek nie nou more se kos voorberei nie, dan moet ek op Kersdag werk. En die hardste wat ek beplan om more te werk is ooghare kleur, katte kosgee en langs die swembad le en werk aan my tan. Ek kry toe die tongetjies en aartappels en beetjies aan't koke en pak die goed uit. Jis ek haat hierdie hiper moderne maar size van 'n posseel kombuisie~!!~ Toe takel ek daai nou al 9kg waatlemoen. Ek moet die hele ding opsny, want hy het mooi van kopkant tot gatkant loop oopbars. Wonder of die vries ook iets gedoen het. Nou toe sny ek hom maar op, maar nie die sirkels sny manier of die skywe wat lekker kroon gee manier werk nie. So toe sny ek maar soos hy kom en sit in 'n tupper vir die yskas, hopelik hou hy langer as ek hom toemaak. Teen die tyd dat daai 12kg ding klaar opgesny is, in twee bakke maaind joe, een vir smoothies in blokkies gevries en een in die yskas vir eet, toe is ek taai, my mens. Ek besluit toe tot hiertoe en niks verder nie, ek gaan eers stort. Nou is alles gaar gekook en staan en afkoel, en ek is beslis nie lus vir daai taai vloer nie. My steamer (tweede in soveel maande) het gekalf en ek is nie lus vir die manual manier nie. Ok so more sal ek maar vloer was voor ek ooghare kleur en katte kosg... nee. EERS katte kosgee, dan oogh.. ag julle weet mos.

Nou gaan ek 'n Lotus koekie eet saam met koffie, who cares of ek slaap of nie? Ek het hoeka 'n "Sally" getrek daar in die winkel toe ek die Lotus koekies sien... dis die wereld se lekkerste tee beskuitjie, so amper karamellerig, amper kanelerig, amper neuterig, 'n klein "o" in jou mond, mens. Ek het die laaste drie pakkies gevat, sal lank hou. Elke beskuitjie is mos in sy eie jassie. Dis nou 'n lekker krismisboks aan myself. Drie pakkies Lotus koekies!!!

Nouja my mense, julle moet 'n lekker feestyd he, wat ook al julle geloofs denominasie. To each his own and peace on earth, as long as you firstly do no harm, het ek vrede met wat wie glo. Solank julle tyd spandeer met julle geliefdes en dit waardeer, want dalk kom daar eendag 'n dag wat jy alleen is, weens omstandighede deels jou eie skuld en deels buite jou beheer. En dan gaan jy daai mensies mis, met jou hele hart.

Liefde, goeie wense, white light and good vibes to you all. Geniet hom.

Kiti, PJ en die katte.

MAMA SAID:  "There'd be days like this.... "

Yup, today was one of THOSE days.  I made more fancy shaped firewood and lots of shavings than most other days.  (insert music here, or just play this video while you read further)

First I started off with a grandchild piece of wood.  That one mentioned in my previous entry.  Where you get it for free (aka pain free, morning sickness free, just joys and toys) but just when you spent hours on it, the parting off tool catches and breaks a blade.  Yup, it threw a tantrum and you want to give it back to the parents, quick-smart.

Now when you had 3 of these in a row, and the last piece was one of your very prized pieces of oak, it is sauna hot in the shed and you are tired and cranky and full of shavings that got into places you do not care to mention on an open forum, then you are ready to throw in the towel and call it a day.  But there is daylight left, and since you can only run the lathe on days of full sunshine so that the solar panels can handle the electric pull and to ensure your power bill does not skyrocket, you power on (pun intended).

So you decide to saw that 3m piece into 30cm blocks, mark centers and turn the whole lot into rounds, ready for use another day.

And just before daylight fades or you get buried beneath wood shavings, whichever comes first, you stop, grab the broom and clean out the shed so that you have a fresh plate for tomorrow morning. Hopefully a nights sleep will cure your tool-slipping-ness and you get a nice breakky and not a dog's breakfast like today.

I love my wooden children

Wood is like children, you love them equally but in such different ways. 

Hardwood is my older child, dark, hard to shape and buff, but once it is done, it is almost unbreakable. 


Oak (pictured in the middle) is my youngest, raised carefully and so easily shaped, but temperamental and breaks at the least provocation until you are done and strengthened is with love, polish and loads of care. Then it is so very pretty and you love showing it off. 
Then there is pine. The middle child. You almost do not notice how easy it is to mold, works beautifully and quick. But average in looks and strength unless cared for and regularly oiled and buffed. Yet it bruises so easily, but you almost never notice.  

And then there is the Grandchild Wood. Those that you get for free (no cost or morning sickness or hard labours) that just pops into your life (like wood you get for free) and are so clever and easy enjoyable to turn and shape... and then the tantrums start and you give them back to the parents quicksmart. Or throw them on the Nicely Shaped, Time Wasted Upon-firewood heap.

But i am blessed that I am able to have it and shape in into useful or just pretty items. I love my ch..e.. wood.

Jingle Bells, the Australian way!

Dashing through the bush, in a rusty Holden ute

Kickin' up the dust, the esky's in the boot.
Kelpie by me side, singin' Christmas songs
It's summertime and I am in my slinglet, shorts and thongs.

Chorus

Oh Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way
Christmas in Australia on a scorchin' summer's day
Jingle Bells, jingle bells, Christmas time is beaut
Oh what fun it is to ride in a rusty Holden ute.

Engine's getting hot, dodging kangaroos
The swaggie clumbs aboard, he is welcome too
All the family's there, sittin' by the pool
Christmas day the Aussie way, round the barbeque

Chorus

Come the afternoon, grandpa has a doze
The kids and Uncle Bruce are swimmin' in their clothes
The time comes round to go, let's take a family snap
Then pack the car and all shoot through before the washing up

Chorus

Proudly Australian !!!

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Katstories deur die jare

Daar is min dinge wat my so vinnig keyboard toe dryf as verlange.  Na my man, my sussa, my oorlede ouers, broer, suster, my seuntjie...

Ek sukkel soms om te praat.  Maar skryf, dis my uitlaatklep.  Ek is nie 'n skrywer, 'n author nie.  Ek babbel net.  Maar dit help.

Ek het destyds in NZ begin, toe ek so verlang het net na ons ge-emigreer het.  En toe my katte dood is, dit was moeilik, Pepper en Maya is 8 dae na mekaar dood.  Ek wonder nog steeds of katte selmoord kan pleeg...

Hier is hulle storie.

Tribute to Pepper & Maya - A tale of two kitties

This is a very sad story, about two kitties who loved each other too much.

After we moved to New Zealand, I was going out of my mind with stress, and being a cat addict, missed having one to cuddle. I advertised in the local paper for a siamese girl, always having favoured orientals. Next thing I knew, a lady brought me a kitty, but "he" looked nothing like what I wanted. He was a tabby boy, but his mum was a Siamese lady with absolutely no taste in tomcats. It was love at first sight, he was such a charmer, and on the inside pure siamese.

Three months later a siamese breeder I initially contacted, phoned me to say she has kittens. I could not afford it at the time, and she offered me adoption of the 3 year old mummy-cat, whom she wanted to retire. We renamed Mai Ling to Maya, Queen of the Ancients. Her adjustment was a story of blood and tears, and one for another day. But eventually Pepper decided enough was enough, and went into my room and chased her out. She was not immune to his charms either.

In the beginning she played hard to get, and more often than not Pep would be at the receiving end of a whack or a scratch and hiss, depending on Her Highness' mood. But he persisted, and she capitulated. They became Romeo and Juliet, Anthony and Cleopatra... they became Pepper and Maya!

He showed her the great outdoor litterbox, aka the beach, on the other side of the garden. He raced with her through the garden, and up and down the palm tree. Together they enjoyed the sunspots in the house, on the deck and of course the beach. They always, without fail, followed us to the beach when we went for a swim, play or sleep or just wait for us by the stairs. They would race through the sand, roll in it and at a far-off, hidden corner, use it as a litterbox. And when they were tired of playing, they would sleep in a hollow tree hide-out covered by flax bushes.

Then came April 2, 2003, the sad day we found Pepper outside by the stairs. He was hurt and could not make it up, and he died there. Maya went with us to a special little spot to bury him. That was the last time she went to the beach. She missed him, and searched for him, and called him endlessly. Now she was scared to go out alone. She only went outside to do her potty, and she did not want to play. She would just lie there, in their favourite spots, or in their spot next to my pc screen. We were still battling to cope with with this grief, when we discovered another to deal with. Exactly 8 days after Pepper's journey to the Rainbow Bridge, Maya followed him.

We will never know why she went to the roadside that morning. She was a tense, scared kitty, and petrified at the mere sight of the busy road.  She never, ever went close to the road. What made her go there?

Did she follow Peppers scent-trail? Did Pepper come back to take her with him? Or was the heartache and missing too much for her to handle? So many questions, and no answers. Just the missing, the terrible emptiness, the physical pain of losing my furry children.

They are together again, their bodies side by side on their beloved beach, their souls free to play again on the sand and in the trees, in safety this time, where nothing can hurt them.

I love you, my kitties, my Pepper and Maya. You will always have a very special place in my heart.... together, side by side, as always.

In Loving Memory of Pepper & Maya

Opvolg op 23 in die laataand

Hier is episode twee...

Saterdagoggend, 4 April 2009

Ag julle, as ek myself gisteraand jammer gekry het, is ek bitter na aan hartstogtelik in trane uitbars vandag. Die toilet is nog nie reg nie. Eers jaag ek vanoggend dorp toe, want ek wil self #2 en kan mos nou nie in my fragile toilet nie. Gelukkig het hulle nice loo's in die Woollies centre.

Nouja, toe is dit ek en plungers. Kry oral sulke dinky toys, en die LAASTE shop wat ek ingaan kry ek toe 'n grote. Ook op die heel laaste bleddie rak in die winkel. Nou stel julle voor, ek moerig, min slaap, kannie op my eie toilet sit nie (is julle mage ook so vol crap, pun intended, as dit by vreemde toilets kom?), voete moeg, kop seer, kry nie wat ek soek nie. Sal die girlie agter die till nie vir my se Have A Nice Day! nie.

@)*#($ $&#*(@(*$#& !!!

Ek het maar eerder bek gehou en geloop. Siestog arme kind weet ok mos nou nie van my treurmares nie. Terug huis toe, met plunger en drain cleaner gewapen, plus tablette wat boomwortels doodmaak in die drainsystem, virrie wis ennie onwis. Laat daar nie gesê worre ek cover nie my bas ... e .. basIS nie.

Plunge dat die water spat, toe onthou ek jy moet eers die water uitskep. Skep, skep, skep. Nou dit is nie meer bruin water nie, maar dit stink ten hoge hemele. Ek klink soos 'n kat met 'n hairball soos my magie ruk. Lyk ook seker soos een van ou Osama se aanhangsels met al die lappe om my kop gedraa om die fumes uit te hou. Plunge weer, klink of iets gorrel in die pyp, en wil net bly word. Spoel.... selle ou storie.

Jis maar my moer strip. Klim oppie pc en soek loodgieters. Wil julle glo, hier is VIER van hulle op hierdie klein eilandjie, en nie EEN is beskikbaar nie. Hulle antwoord nie eens hulle fone nie, net masjiene. Ek laat toe boodskappe, en wag, en wag, en wag. Nouja toe wil ek alweer loo. Toe gly my moer (daar is niks meer oor om te strip nie) en ek klim in die kar. Weer sentrum toe, hulle toilets is skoner as die op die strand. Toe Mitre 10 toe. Ek het die oggend daar 'n mcgavter gesien waarvan ek gisteraand op die web gelees het. So 'n spring'kie voor aan 'n lang kabel, 30 voet lank. Dan voer jy dit in die gat af en as dit by die blokkasie kom, rotate jy dit net. $35 later kom ek toe by die huis, waar my seuns nog boggerol chores gedoen het. Jis maar ek is 'n mislike ma. Haal my mood op hulle uit, veral PJ, Dawid het verskoning van eksamen. Nou of hy swot of voor sy pc sit, weet ek nie. Hy is hoeka self in die 23 want hy het vir sy girlfriend in NZ boeke uitgeneem op sy naam, toe gee sy een nie in nie en gister toe kry ek 'n brief van die bib in NZ wat se ek moet $53 betaal vir dit.

Maar ek dwaal af. Ek trek toe maar weer handskoene aan, dank vader vir die boks wear-once plastiekes in die kas, en takel die blokkasie. Sê eers vir PJ kook vir my water, menende in die pot. Hy verstaan toe in die ketel, en is buierig oor ek hom van die Xbox verjaag het, stamp my (glas) ketel teen die kraan... in stukke. Onvervangbaar, het dit in NZ gekoop destyds teen 70% discount. Toe haal ek maar my moerigheid uit op die verstopsels. Omtrent vyf voet se kabel, eerste blokkasie. Ek woer woer daai draadjie en voer die kabel verder. Nog drie blokkasies, laaste een so op 25 voet in die pyp af.

Nou spoel die ding, ek het amper my plumbers-licence, maar ten koste van my maag se one-way klep en slukvermoë. Ek leef op vloeistowwe want ek is te bang om iets te eet. Nou gaan ek die loo weer spoel, en hoop vir die beste, en 'n nanna-nap vat. Het dit nodig. Dit en 'n kopseerpil.

Enjoy your day! NOGAL!!!

ps... net om te sê, dit het ook nie gewerk nie. Alle dank aan die een loodgieter wat ek toe in die hande gekry het, en Maandagoggend net na agt, $108 later, toe is my toilet weer hunky dory. O die wonderlike lewe van 'n grasweduwee.

23 in die laataand

So bietjie ou nuus

Ek is vanaand lus vir skryf, seker weer al die ou verlanges wat oopgekrap is. Maar eers wil ek stories publiseer wat ek in April geskryf het, na een partikulere woeste naweek... maar lees maar hoekom dit so erg was...

Scene: Vrydag aand, 3 April 2009

Ag julle, ek kry myself so jammer. Ek het sopas 'n groot 23-spul gehad. (dis nou kode vir k..k - as jy die letters tel, is dit 11 + 1 + 11 = 23) Sien, net toe ek wil gaan slaap, toe sê PJ vir my "Ma die toilet loop amper oor." Dis nou NADAT hy ge-23 het.

Dis Vrydagaand. Dis elfuur in die nag. My man is op 'n skip in 'n ander land. Enigste vriend wat ons hier naby het, bly 30km ver en ek weet nie of hy sou geweet het wat om te doen nie. My hulpvaardige, bejaarde buurman gaan slaap al 7 uur in die aande. Dis stikdonker by sy huis. Ek het nie 'n plunger nie. Ek het nie 'n draadhanger nie. Ek het nie 'n freakin CLUE nie!

Ek kom klim toe op google en search vir unblocking toilets without a plunger. Hulle sê toe draai 'n dreadlock-mop in sakke toe en gebruik vir 'n plunger. Ek het net 'n vierkantige mop met 'n sponsie aan en 'n steam mop. Ek dog toe DIT gaan nie werk nie. Lees verder vir oom Google.

Hulle sê toe draai baie supermarksakke om jou toiletborsel en plunge daarmee, asook gebruik kookwater ens. Ek kookwater toe eers, en plunge daarna met die toiletborselsakke. Dog dit gaan werk maar toe laat die kookwater die borsel buig, en die sakke neek af. Nou weet julle hoe ruik gekookte 23???

En ek het hoeka glad nie 'n sterk magie nie. Dawid (bless him) hol en gryp my naaste (nogal wit) bloes en kom draai dit om my kop, want my hande is vol - en my maag ruk en ruk. Anyway, dit werk toe nie. Die plunging, bedoel ek.

Ek hol buitentoe want as ek nog boonop uela kan ek dit mos nie in die verstopte toilet doen nie! En ons kleine huisie het net EEN toilet. Die vars lug het my goed gedoen, genadiglik reen dit nie op die oomblik nie. Toe dink ek mos ..... Swembadsuur! Dit vreet enige iets. Gooi toe die stink goed in, maar moet hol vir die fumes. Na 10 minute toe waag ek dit terug. Niks gehelp nie.

Ek dink toe aan Domestos, maar is te bang om dit in te gooi na die acid. Spoel toe maar versigtig 'n halwe spoel, net dat dit stadig deurloop en die acid verdun. Gooi toe Domestos in, los 'n ruk en spoel weer... En sowaar.... Iewers tussen die kookwater, acid, plunge en Domestos het iets gewerk.

Nou gaan ek lekker bad en slaap en more is ek hopelik orraait... dis nou as ek nie intussen cholera of tifus opgedoen het nie.

Ons is HIER!!!

Today Retha reminded me that I haven't updated my blog in a long time. Long time definition here is a month. Goodness, has it been that long?

Now where will I start? The 24th December flew by in a flurry. The last people came to fetch their purchases/freebies. I gave away a lot of things to people arriving in January from South Africa, at least I could make somebody else's landing a little softer. It's a good feeling, paying forward what was done for me, 7 years ago. BellaDonna was fetched by Southern Comfort, and I cried my eyes out. I still shudder at the thought of what I had to put her through.

We then loaded the Ravvie for the last time, (I MISS MY RAV!!) drove to the motel for our last NZ night, Flip delivered the Rav to its new owner and took a taxi back, and we all crashed. The boys slept for 2 hours, but after 30 minutes I was wide awake again. Luckily the motel had internet in the lobby, sharks, asking $5 for 30 minutes, so I emailed my family with a last update.

We went to dinner, and the best of the walking distance eateries was Burger King. So funny, our first "dining out" was also Burger King. It tasted better 7 years ago, I think.

Back at the motel we exchanged gifts, watched a movie and went to bed. Very early David woke us, as he wanted to surprise his friends with breakfast, so 6:15am we sent him off, me again in tears. Jeesh I was an emotional wreck!

We only had coffee and toast for breakfast, and headed out to the airport. The first snag was that the airline did not book our seats together. The check-in girlie changed seats for us, and we headed upstairs. LUCKILY we decided to fill in departure cards immediately, and Flip discovered that he is booked in as Ms Wang Chi Wong.

While he headed downstairs to fix the name, PJ decided the toast did not quite fill the spot.

No further problems, we had a good flight to Sydney, but tiredness was setting in fast. We all had a huge sleep debt, and the previous night's 4 hours wasn't helping. The very kind Ms Wong agreed to exhange seats and at least we sat together except for take-off and landing. Inflight movies was boring, we had an old aeroplane, so no personalised screens, but sleep would not come.

Some people even got grumpy when I took too many pics. :)

By the time we landed in Sydney we were all hot, bothered and exhausted. Luckily the airport attendant offered us immediate flights to Brisbane, instead of the 5 hour wait we were supposed to do. So we were quickly carted off to the domestic airport via bus (without air-conditioning - boy is that a necessity in this country!) along with a huge group of South African cricket fans on their way to Melbourne. Come to think of it, 3/4 of the people in the bus were Afrikaans lol.

The domestic koffie-mof... e .. airline staff were NOT as friendly as international staff, for sure. Nearly got my head bitten off when I requested a tomato juice instead of the mixed-fruit-in-a-box they had on tap. Maybe they did not get extra pay for working on Xmas like international flight staff.

We arrived in a sweltering Brissie, where we had to insert coins to get a trolley, and guess what, we did not HAVE Aussie coins and not a lot of patience left, and exhaustion was a definite factor. The trains did not run, so we had to find a taxi, but later that night we discovered a train trip would not have been much cheaper anyway. The motel was fine, but their spa gave out the day before, the spa that was the main factor in choosing that particular motel when we booked! We went for a walk after a short rest to buy dinner, but not a lot of places were open that time of Xmas night. So we bought a pizza and some Coke (vanilla nogal, what a find - not available in NZ anymore).

Next morning me and PJ packed (again!) while Flip went to the airport via train to get our hire car, and we drove up north to Leon & Wendy's for the weekend. What a weekend! While Wendy and me checked out houses on the island, the men went looking for cars. They found a very good buy, which did not pan out because they saw us (from NZ) as a bigger risk as people straight from SA on a visa. Less proof of commitment to stay, see. So they wanted 50% deposit, and we said stuffit.

View from the bridge

The Sunday we drove from Ipswitch (south west of Brisbane) where PJ and I was to house-sit for 2 weeks, to the Island again, to look at some more houses. Most estate agents were closed, but we got a few addresses. I did not much look forward to driving so far on my own to try and secure a house, but it had to be done. Flip was due back offshore the Monday morning. But while looking at houses, we found an old local newspaper in a letterbox. I scanned through, and low and behold there was a private advertisement. I phoned the number and left a message, and while we went to the beach for a look-see and an ice-cream, Lex phoned me back, and said meet you at the house. He had his fill with estate agents, and rented privately. The house was on the small side, only 3 bedrooms and no air conditioning, but the price was right with a swimming pool. So we gave them our references and that night they phoned to say we got it. So maklik! And believe me, going through agents is much, much more involved, you have to apply with a deposit, have a 100 point system to fulfill (getting points for passports, having an Aussie employer, Queensland drivers licence etc etc.) Then only are you screened and accepted or declined. We had it easy.

Monday hubby was off again and I had to sort out car rentals. So I found a very cheap little rental sans insurance, I am just driving VERY carefully. As long as somebody else hits me, another car, I am okay. My NZ travel insurance will cover me up to 31st January.

I will not comment on the house sitting job, as it scarred me for life and I decided i HATE dogs. Nuff said. BellaDonna landed on the 7th, and I collected a very stressed out, very thin siamese at the airport. They are so much more professional here than NZ with collecting animals/belongings. It broke my heart to leave her in a cattery on this side, but it would have stressed her even more in that house with 2 dogs and 2 strange cats.

On the 10th we moved into our little house, me and PJ, with borrowed inflatable mattresses, table, chairs (thanks Nilo) and cups, plates, bar fridge, pots and lined (thanks Wendy and Leon!). BellaDonna screamed for 2 days before calming down a bit, and it took her that long to eat anything again. I was so worried. After two nights however I went through the expense of buying a matress, as the inflatable was killing me. David had to get a new bed anyway, we sold his in Auckland.

It was about at this point I discovered that my container was in fact sent to Melbourne, after I phoned them on the 29th December pointing out this error after receiving an email. For those who do not know, the ship sailed from Auckland to Sydney, and Brisbane is NORTH of Sydney. Melbourne is way... way to the south. In the 3 times I phoned, I spoke to 3 different people, explaining from scratch as the previous one went on holiday and no notes were made on my file. Every time I was told about it being an "administrative error" and I should not worry. Then on the 13th January I decided to use my brains and Uncle Google to track the vessel my container was on. After a strongly worded email, including the site link I used to track the vessel, in which I insisted on some honesty instead of the lies I've been fed, Grace Removals admitted that it went to Melbourne. Good Grief! I told them about this on the 29th, more than a week before the vessel left Auckland!

Things got better after fetching David on the 15th, I slept better, at least. Yesterday I decided to phone Grace Australia instead of the Auckland branch, and the lovely lady there told me that my container was cleared by customs, no problems (I was very worried about the biltongbox!!) and that it will be loaded on a truck by Wednesday, and that I should have it early February. About bloody time. I am gatvol sitting on a beanbag, sleeping on the floor. I WANT MY STUFF!! How did I do this 7 years ago, selling everything and starting new? I am too old for this. I wish we came to Australia all those years ago, but then, I do believe in fate. One day I will understand why we had to do the NZ detour.

One thing I know, is that we finally came home. All I need now is my husband by my side, I wish he did not have to go away for such long times. Think I better get the boys grown-up, then BellaDonna and I can follow his vessel in a little sailboat. Would that not be nice?

David is starting school on Tuesday, right after our very first Australia day.  I should get more internet time then as well, with Mr D in school for 4 days a week. Go figure, here they have every Thursday off for employment preparation. Wish I had school in Aus!

.

Moeg???

Ek dink ek het 'n nuwe definisie vir die woord MOEG. Ek was laas in SA net voor die trek hiernatoe in 'n toestand enigsins naby aan wat ek nou voel. En toe het dit nie eens huis skoonmaak ingesluit nie, het mos al heelwat vroeer daar huis opgegee.

Hier gebruik PJ vir oulaas gou Ma se Stoel voor dit ook toegedraai word.

Maar laat ek eers vertel van die container pak. Met groot afwagting word ons wakker Maandag oggend, 15 Desember. Jislaaik, is dit al 'n week terug? Ek verloor ernstig tyd. Maar toe ek die deur oopmaak, staan daar een ou en wag. EEN! Daar gaan my drome van sommer gou-gou pak en inlaai dieselfde dag. O, hulle Krismis partytjie was die vorige dag en nou is hulle so bietjie short-staffed! No shyte! Is dit nou my probleem? Ek sou self pak, maar hulle verseker niks wat jy self inpak nie. So daar sit ek toe en kook van binne terwyl ek toesig hou, want ek sien hier kom 'n hele week. Mensdom, groot was my verbasing. Daai ou is sekerlik beide Superman en Flash Gordon se nefie. Teen die einde van Maandag toe is driekwart van my huisraad (die helfte wat ek saamvat) en meubels ge-wrap dat jy net bubbles en wit papier sien. Ek was te bang om te lank stil te staan op een plek, vir ingeval ek ook toegedraai word. Miskien moes ek maar die seuns en BellaDonna so oorgestuur het, baaaiiieee goedkoper, :)

Ewenwel, Saterdag toe hou ons garage sale. Darem so $150 gemaak, en as jy die geldjie wat ons op Trademe gekry het vir die res van die goed wat stuurbaar is, is dit heelwat. Ek is verbaas oor die pryse wat ons vir die grassnyer en draaibanke gekry het. Ek is eintlik bietjie hartseer oor my draaibankie, maar Doeane gee mens te veel crap oor tools, veral as dit met houtwerke te doen het. Sal maar eendag weer vir my enetjie kry, dan 'n nuwe. Daar is hoeka 'n ou wat lesse gee oor houtdraai op Bribie Island, my kennis dusver kom maar van boeke en die internet. En baie trial en error en seer vingers!

Nouja gister toe begin die GROOT skoonmaak. Ons het omtrent geskrop, en die helfte van die huis skitterblink, mure, kaste, vensters de lot. Ek hoop net van harte my beurt van "crying windows" is op 'n einde. Vir julle in SA, dis nou as die kondensasie so teen die vensters afstroom in die winter. Omdat die humiditeit hier so hoog is al is dit winter, is al jou vensters binne altyd sopnat, en met die gevolg dit muf baie maklik in die gleufies van die staalraam vensters. Ek maag gewoonlik net na die winter skoon, maar wou nie twee keer so kort na mekaar nie toe los ek vir die trek. My neus trek al op 'n knop van al gister se bleach. Dankie Vader vir Bamm se bathroom cleaner, werk soos 'n bom. Hopelik het Aus nie crying windows nie.

Maar ek het 'n paar nuwe pet hates. Bo-aan die lys is beslis horizontal blinds. Veral as dit van hout is. Nasty dust collectors, al wat dit is.

Ag ja, laat ek verder gaan speel met my seepborrels... ek se net dankie tog vir my Seza... dis nou my steam cleanertjie. Daai dingetjie was nou al sy (haar?) geld dubbel en dwars werd. Soveel so dat ek dit beslis nie hier los nie. Ek betaal liewer daai $10 per kg ekstra gewig wat ek oor 20kg gaan, maar saam gaan sy saam.

As julle nou vrygewig voel en vir my 'n ou krismispersentjie wil stuur, gaan sit en maak jou oge toe, visualiseer my en stuur so bietjie energie oor die see in my rigting. Dis AL wat ek vir krismis wil he.... krag. Ek dink vir die eerste paar daggies in Aus gaan ek omslaap.

Ek sal nou seker eers weer post as ons daar is, ons vlieg mos so op Kersdag... die kaartjies was helfte goedkoper as die dag voor of na dit, en ek wou darem 'n stukkie van Kersdag by Dawid wees, hy bly mos eers vir 3 weke by die meisie.

So julle moet lekker Kersfees hou, dink aan ons, dan is ons ook daar by julle. Ons sal dieselfde doen, dis nou as ons wakker genoeg is en genoeg energie oorhet vir bewustelike gedagtes.

Arriewarrie, sien julle in die Wonderlike land van Oz!

Trek traumas

As promised I decided to do this one for my English buds. That is if I can get my moving-muddled-grey matter to co-operate. Funny how even 7 years in a totally English environment cannot cure you from being plein plat Afrikaans when fatique or temper sets in.

I have the afternoon "off". Flip and da boyz went fishing, to "test the boat" before selling it. Poor thing, he worked his hiny off to get it just right, only to have one afternoon fishing trip on it. It is too old and too much hassle to take it with. With any luck we will break even moneywise, otherwise this will be one very expensive fishing trip!

It is 36 hours before the packers arrive, and I don't feel nearly ready. I want to clean my matress, I need to defrost the big fridge, the knowledge that for the last 9 days here I will be without a washing machine and tumble drier causes panicky thoughts. Yes, dear people, the darling weather decided to remind me up to the last minute of why we are doing this thing, yet again. It is 13 December, let wel, supposed to be SUMMER, and I am going to close all windows and doors soon, my feet are turning cold. It did not rain today, vir 'n wonder, but according to my 3-day rain forecast site on Tuesday, when they take the boxes out of my house to the container parked in the street, it will be pouring - from 7am to 1pm!

I still have lots to do, so hopefully I will have time to update the blog again after they load the container. Please think of us with happy thoughts, maybe it will help :)

.

Sondag Shopping Stories

Ek moet julle eers vertel... Ek is al vroeg wakker ten spyte van die min slaap, en sit en wag vir Ouboeta om op Skype te klim, maar niks. Sit so lekker en surf oppie net dat ek vergeet om PJ te herinner van werk toe ry, toe moes ek vinnig spring om hom weg te vat.

Ek dog toe, ek IS nou in die dorp, laat ek gou shopping doen want die melk en brood en kaas is op. En met die uitklimslag haak my dun katoenbloesie en GRRRTTSSS skeur die linker-naat mooi oop tot onderkant my ondergoedjies.

Toe sit ek nou met hierdie conondrum... ry ek huistoe en trek iets anders aan en ry WEER al die pad in winkels toe, of koop ek gou 'n ander bloes (wat ek nie nodig het nie) met geld wat ek nie het nie?

Maar wat, boerin maak 'n plan. Ek vat mooitjies die pante bymekaar, druk my handsakkie onder my linker-arm in om alles bymekaar te hou en knyp verwoed vas dat niks uitsteek nie, want die wind waai kwaai. Voel half snaaks want AS ek nog 'n handsak dra (haat die goed) en AS ek dit onder my arm vasknyp (mos nie nodig in hierdie land nie), dan doen ek dit onder my regterarm, so alles voel half vreemd.

Nou moet julle sien, ek het mos nou nie gedink aan trollie stoot met een arm nie, synde dat linker arm nou andersins ge-utiliseer is. En al wat 'n bleddie skepsel is sal mos nou in Pak-n-Save wees vandag! Maar wat, ek hanteer alles mooi ten spyte van die swaar verkeer en onnosel mense wat nie weet van hou links nie of familie-vergadering hou in die rye dat mens nie kan verbykom nie, verskuif net so af en toe die handsakkie as dit voel of hy uitglip.

Ek koop net die nodigste, wat ongelukkig (tipies) nie bymekaar is nie maar wyd versprei oor die hele winkel. Maar toe kom dit by uitpak vir betaalslag, en mens het mos twee arms nodig!

Ek vat maar die pantjies mooi saam en druk dit by my langbroek in, en laai uit so vinnig ek kan. Gelukkig pak die Till-Trixie dit weer in die waentjie - dis hoe dit werk hier. Hulle gee nie sakke nie, maar sit alles in 'n leë trollie langs die till en dan stoot jy weer jou uitgepakte trollie daar en vat die vol een as jy loop. Dan pak jy dit self in sakke wat jy of saambring, of koop, of leë kartonbokse wat jy wegraap voor die volgende ou.

Alles werk mooi, maar ai, buite gekom het die sterk wind wat die weer-lieger voorspel het, opgesteek. Nouja. Manoewer nou 'n vollerige trollie met een arm in die wind, in 'n oorvol parkeerarea en karre wat toustaan vir 'n enkele plekkie wat dalk oopgaan, en jy verdien jou trollie-laaisins op die plek. Genadiglik is dit 'n NZ trollie, nie een van daai nagmerrie goed waaraan ek sal moet gewoond raak in Australia nie, kyk, DIT sou onmoontlik gewees het met net een arm. Ons het mos Oktober met die vakansie 'n voorsmakie gehad, het altyd gedog die SA-Aussies vergroot so effens met hulle baie klagtes oor die Aus-trollies wat so hier-daar-oral hol met hulle vier los wiele. Skies julle.

Nouja, ek het dit darem huistoe gemaak sonder om ou omies te verlei en ou tantes apopleksie van skok te gee met my onkuisheid. Nou wonder ek net waar het ek die naaimasjien ingepak... dalk moet ek maar die ou bloesie demote na skroplap, maar ek lief hom so, hy is so lekker lig vir die warm weer wat gaan kom in Aus. Die lap is bietjie dunnerig, netnou brand Seza my weer ... sal maar was en inpak vir eendag se regmaak daar anderkant.

Dink net, julle, oor 5 weke is ek in Australia!

*****

Genius comes at a price!

Dis nou wat jongste MiniMe netnou vir my sê, net na ek my middelvinger gebrand het, hier onder by die basis reg waar hy teen wysvinger skuur. Klein hel. Gee hom sommer 'n klap op sy gat, maar dit kan jy ook nie meer nie, want dis kindermishan-deling. Yeah right, dan is ek seker ernstig mishandel (apologie aan my dierbare ouers wat aan praktiese kindersielkunde geglo het), maar nouja dit het my niks skade gedoen nie, eerder goed. Was ok maar 'n cheeky klein blogsempie, dis seker waar Dawid dit vandaan kry.


Hoe het ek gebrand... ek kom daarby. Sien, die loemende Groot Trek het my skielik laat besef ek moet skoonmaak ook, elke hoekie en draaitjie. Toe koop ek vir my op Trademe 'n lekker Pullman steam jet masjientjie. Man hy werk lekker. Te goed eintlik. As mens te lank op een plek stoom haal hy sommer die verf of kleur van die muurpapier ook af. En toe word die nozzletjie vuil en ek veeg hom so ingedagte met die lappie in my linkerhand, ja daai ene met die gat in wat ek eintlik al wou wegsmyt maar nou handig inkom. Die gat, dis nou waar die popo die fen strike, sien. Want toe die vuurwarm (stoom, onthou) nozzletjie by die gat kom, wat mooi met my sensitiewe vingertjie opline, toe dink ek woorde wat ek nie veronderstel is om te ken nie.

My lus vir skoonmaak is sommer geblus. Maar daar is geen genade vir arm mense en immigrante nie en ek moet aangaan want Seza is doer ver in Donker Afrika.

Of is ek nou 'n emigrant - het al so baie getrek ek weet ook nie meer of ek kom of gaan nie.

Sê my,
Is daar iewers dalk 'n land van rus en
Sê my,
Is daar vêr 'n vreemde kus
Waar die swerwer eindelik rus?
En as daar is
Neem my saam, neem my saam
Wie weet, iewers is daar dalk 'n land van rus en
Wie weet
(Koos du Plessis)

Ek leen ernstig by beide ou Koos Rasperstem en medeblogger http://pitkos.blogspot.com/ wat dit eerste gebruik het. Maar jissie, dis so gepas in ons geval. Ek en LM (Liewe Man) het van die begin af wanderlust gehad... Secunda, Phalaborwa, Richards Baai, toe NZ, eers Doubtless Bay en Kaitaia en die laaste 3 jaar Auckland. En hier gaat ons alweer...

Maar ek dink ons rus is hier. Minder as 'n uur in Brisbane met ons Oktober vakansie, het ons besef ons is tuis. Uit-bleddie-eindelik. Net jammer ons moes terugkom om te sort en weg te smyt en te pak.

Dis waar ons nou sit. Hurry up and wait. Ons wag vir die pakkers om die container te pak, en dit gaan nie gebeur voor middel Desember nie, want jongste MM (Mere Male of Mini Me, afhangend van sy graad van domgeit op daai oomblik) moet eers klaar skoolgaan, sien.

En ek en Wag was nog nooit maatjies nie. Ongeduldig het niks teen my nie. Sien, my ou Moeks het altyd gesê sy sal dit of dat NIE DULD NIE, en dis net waar ek met my negatiewe konnotasie met die basiswoord geweier het om in die ry te staan vir dit.

Nog 'n probleempie is dat ek nie altyd mooi luister nie. En dan wonder ek waar kry my MM's dit?

Okay, voor ek julle verveel, lang storie kort. Na sewe blisvolle jare in New Zealand is ons op pad na die Wonderlike Land van Oz. Gedog die keer sal ek dit vir die nageslag neerpen, anders verloor ek dalkies weer al my notas soos met die groot trek hierheen. &#@%& tegnologie is nie dependable nie, een crash en WOOSH als is weg.

Ek dwaal alweer af. Anyway, kan nie wag vir Krismis die jaar nie. Nie oor hy so wonderlik gaan wees nie, maar ons vlieg die dag daarna.

KRISMIS KOM NOU!