What is it about electronic and automotive equipment that causes these fiendish creations to develope such personal relationships with their people? I don't doubt but that there those who have tame and willing machines. However...I am not one of these lucky few. Perhaps I exaggerate.

I know that we women are fond of hyperbole. Maybe there are many who have peaceful relationships with these demons of some mad tormentor's fevered psyche. Excuse me... while I cool my own fevered brow.

Fine, so you have gathered that I have been thwarted by this inanimate object in front of me - again! What really ticks me off, is that Les sits down to sort out the problem, and all the little doodads say to the the little gizmos: "1000110110011111000." To which the thingumies, who always have to put in their tuppence worth, add: "11111111!!!" So then the gizmos come right back with: "00001110011110." And then there is a general high pitched (but very soft - You'd have to be a dog to hear it) squeal of laughter, followed by a low "hmmmmmm" - the sound of (you guessed it) - the computer, and the internet, and the programme and the mouse and any other jolly thing that you'd like to add in there - working perfectly.

What have these things got against me????!!!! HUH?! That's what I want to know. The car does the exact same thing. It makes a terrible noise (an expensive noise) ; it won't start; I can't open the boot;the lights won't work; any thing you fancy. Out comes Les - The doodads, the gizmos and the thingumies all get together again (okay, so they don't do computer-speak in our cars. Maybe it's more like "Glug, glug" and "knock, knock.") So Les approaches said car. It's not like he gets down on his knees in front of it, to beg its pardon for the stupid wife that he has, who is after all, only a woman. We must make allowances. She is just a woman, and inclined to hyperbole. No - up he marches, opens the door - no differently from the way I did it so far as I can see. He puts the key in the ignition - I'm still watching - still seeing no difference. Feet are on the pedals in the same way as mine. And - VVVRRROOOMMM!!! Thar she blows!

Now you tell me that's not favouritism. I'm sorry, I just won't believe you.

Right, that feels better.

Trouble is, I was actually writing to tell you all about the MOST beautiful addition to the human race this year. And by now you're probably bored reading my drivel. So, I'll just go ahead and talk to myself about my gorgeous granddaughter, and you can chat amongst yourselves, or log off, or go to the kitchen (you probably feel in need of some sustenance after all that).

I would put on some pics, but I'm technologically challenged and I can't yet get that right. There's lots of new stuff that I am learning, though (I learnt how to make links this week - pretty cool, huh?) There are some lovely pictures on Shelly's site. I will still ask Les to help me to do the photo thing, though.

Monday morning, 17 May 2010, Hannah Elizabeth Herbert made her way into this world at 08h18, by means of a caesarean section. She screamed lustily before we even fully lifted her out of her mommy. She was eager to greet this new world. Shelly did so much better than last time with Joshua. That time was really traumatic, having a bad labour for 15 hours, and then an emergency caesar. This time her pain control was so much better, and she looked so much more relaxed. I was able to be there for both, and for the first, I was beside myself with distress, seeing Shelly suffering so badly during the caesar (the epidural had been topped up, but had not had time to get working, and she felt the whole op). This time, she was smiling, and was able to enjoy the fact of being shown her beautiful little girl.

She came home yesterday, and is recovering well. Obviously she is sore - this is only day 5 since her caesar, but she's doing well - and so is Hannah.

Joshua is doing pretty well. It's obviously hard for a little body to get used to sharing the attention that he's always had all to himself. But millions of children have had to do it before. His mommy and daddy are very conscious of sharing their time and making sure that he doesn't feel left out. They are such lovely parents to watch. He is so beautiful. He has a mass of the tightest blonde curls on his head.

And so...

The time has come the walrus said
To talk of many things
Of boys and toys
And little girls
Of sleepless nights for moms
And why a dad must go to work
How long will grow the curls?

For those of you who are already asleep - sleep on, sweet dreamers. For any others, I am sure that you will soon feel join them.

Fare thee well, dear friends, till we chat again.







Some big events - always to be faced with hope

So much has been happening in the last couple of weeks, that time has done the proverbial fly-by, and I have been left feeling breathless, and weak at the knees, and tomorrow morning brings the greatest miracle of them all. The arrival our little granddaughter, Hannah.

This period has been one of hope, uncertainty, loss, mourning, goodbyes, new beginnings, enjoyment, despair, illness, wellness... How can it all have been just two weeks? But when I look at that I realise that I don't need to feel too bad about not having blogged during that time.

What all has happened? Where to begin? I think the first major event really was being phoned by Red Cross Children's Hospital, in response to a job application I had put ages before. In fact, I had stopped even thinking about it. Then suddenly, I was phoned to come for an interview. That was fine, until I suddenly had the uncomfortable feeling that the person who was my best friend at 'Varsity, is now prof of a related department at UCT, and I knew that she did some work in conjuction with the Red Cross Unit. So I sent her an e-mail (I was grateful that Pamela suggested it when I suddenly went into panic mode when I realised this) saying, perhaps, if she were going to be involved with the interviews (which I didn't really expect), that she could just excuse herself from my one). Well, I didn't get a reply - Guess why - When I walked into the board room to face this panel (it felt more like facing a firing squad - I've mentioned before how I feel about facing anything that vaguely resembles an oral exam, and this did - BIG TIME!), who should be sitting in the panel but my friend. It was only moments before I discovered that she is not only head of the Liver Department at UCT, but she is also head of the Kidney / Liver Translant Unit at Red Cross. My first impulse was to turn around and walk straight back out, leap into my less than trusty, somewhat rusty steed, and head into the sunset (or in this case, somewhat to the northeast, so I don't think that'll see much of a sunset).

However, I sat down - and I looked - shall I dare say in control of myself, and the situation? Shall I be reckless and say that I looked - confident? Or is that just me trying to convince myself? (Because I was actually quite a wreck inside). I won't pretend that it went brilliantly, but I don't think, all things considered, that I was as bad as I expected to be. Especially seeing as I haven't practiced hospital medicine in 25 years. The worst was when my friend asked me things. I went blank on some things she wanted to know about technicalities of medical practice. It's one thing with the others on the panel. I wouldn't recognize them again if I fell over them, and I had forgotten their names as they were said. But, my friend is another matter. She matters to me.

Finally it was all over, and they said I would have to wait a couple of weeks to hear. It was thankfully only 1 week to find out that I don't have the job.

So that was one big one in my life. There have been several others, but I don't think I'll discuss those.

However, there is a very big one that affected my whole extended family, and one small branch most severely. My cousin, Catherine was killed in the aeroplane crash in Lybia this last week. My aunt and Kate's sister, Jenny, have been devastated. They are a small but close-knit family. I think that the thing that has especially saddened me, has been the fact that we haven't had any contact for many years. What a waste. Family is precious. When I spoke to Jenny later on the day of the crash, she said how Kate had been around to her house before leaving, and spent some time with her. Jenny said she was so glad they had no unfinished business. Their relationship was really close, and she had no regrets. I hope that I may be able to say that about those I am close to. Kate had been an air hostess for many years, and she was training others, I understand. My prayers are with them to be able to find comfort, and hope for the Eternities ahead.

Right now, I think I need to get some sleep. I need to be up early and functional, to assist with the Caesar on my daughter. I do so wish she could have natural births. I hate the thought of her post op pain, and having to cope with that while she has a baby and a 2-year-old to deal with. I know countless women do it, and I feel for each one who does. It is the greatest priviledge in the world to be assisting at my grandbaby's birth. Last time, it just kind of happened. It was an emergency caesar, So the Gynae would be needing to get a doctor in to assist. I was on hand (Richard, Cindy and I had been at the hospital all night while she was in labour). So when the Gynae was coming down the corridor, from Labour ward to theatre, I sort of stuck my hand out and said "I'll assist." So she said great. Come and change. And next thing Josh was on his way out. But it's different this time, being a planned caesar. I had been so hoping that she would go into normal labour, because she was going to be allowed a trial-of-labour, and if that didn't progress well, then she would be taken for the caesar.

But, thankfully we live in an age when women don't have to die in childbirth with nearly the frequency that they once did. If we did, I'm not convinced that my Shelly would have made it past that first time. We wouldn't be worrying about the arrangements for tomorrow. We are indeed blessed.

So in less than 12 hours our little Hannah will have made herself known to the world. A new life - always there is joy and hope in a new life

"The time has come..."

"The time has come," the walrus said.
"To talk of many things.
Of shoes and ships and sealing wax,
Of cabbages and kings.
Of why the sea is boiling hot.
And whether pigs have wings."

Lewis Carroll penned these words in 'Alice Through the Looking Glass'. Without any question, my absolute favourite quote. My children have grown up hearing these extremely profound words oft repeated in their infant ears. And then in their adolescent ears. And now, I am quite certain they could repeat them back to me without any prompting.

Their value? you ask. How could I waste my children's impressionable youth hearing such nonsense? you ask. Perhaps you are right. But, think just for a moment, of the joy of imagination allowed to run wild. Think of the love of exploring books, of conquering the Everest of Questing Knowledge, the 2000 Leagues under the Sea of Thirsting Enquiry.

Cabbages? Are you kidding? No. Where do caterpillars often live? Then the wonder of developing life from there. Adults may be jaded by the old stories of Peter Rabbit and the vegetables. But those same stories are brand new to young ears, who can't get enough of those old cabbage stories.

I recently read a blog in which someone was expressing views of the jaded sort, and thought how sad that was. Why can't children be allowed to be children? This individual was wanting a very much more sophisticated approach to just 'entertaining' children. Watch any young children on their birthdays. The things they enjoy playing with the most, are the simplest - very often the wrappings, the boxes, the balloons - the extremely costly gifts get left unattended until some time later. When the child has grown older, and we have taught him or her to be more sophisticated in their expectations, then the simple things no longer please. Then, the costlier the better. And then - we watch sadly, and wonder: where has our little one gone?

Perhaps a little more time spent talking to our children, with the walrus, of the absurd, the unreachable, the down-to-earth, the monstrous, the tiny, the unimaginable, the fun...Yes, just the fun of books, of learning, of playing with parents and siblings, of playing in the sand and climbing trees. Aah! How many, many problems in life we could solve. Just think of the happier families, more balanced children, fewer learning problems.

And so I say again:

"The time has come," the walrus said...

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