Drips & Drapes

It took me a good 3 days to hang my drapes. The first time I put them up, it was to let those who were looking for a house that this one was taken. I unhang them on the second day because they didn’t seem to gather well. On the final day, the sheers really tested my patience. I was almost done when I realized the curtain box (had double rails) did not have enough runners and so I had to unhang the sheers, redistribute the runners and hang them up again. I was pretty tired by evening but a most satisfied girl.

It’s interesting the way execute things. We either teach ourselves to do them but mostly are taught by others how to do them. I, for one, spent many hours with my dad learning how to write my ‘Ts’ straight, covering my school books and wrapping gifts. I didn’t know it at that time but he was teaching me the importance of measurement in quality. And so don’t be surprised when you visit and find a handy-bag on the top of my fridge with a measuring tape, marker pen, notebook, a pair of scissors and some adhesive tape.

But that’s not all! The week I moved, I borrowed my pops tools so that I could fix any drips that come with a ‘new’ house. Dad, on many weekends, sent me running to the tool-shed (that all and sundry room) to bring him some misumaris, tupa, randa, nyundo or spana. In fact, I once short-circuited (not sure if this is a good word) trying to fix a lose socket; Papa was watching some football match at the time. I can’t forget the startled look on his face. I know he wished more that he had allowed me to watch the game with him…


* It’s my parents anniversary today and I celebrate them… They brought me up well… I bless God for them…


The Little One…

Image source here

The other day I was on the phone with this chap and he confessed not having watched a single game for over a month. School had become tough and the tough had to get going. In all the years of knowing this guy, I had never ‘witnessed’ him miss a match while it was in his opportunity to do so. He ate, drank, slept football. “It’s because you guys didn’t make it to the league finals, ey?” I teased.

. . .

I don’t know what is happening to Wenger & Co. but I am of the opinion that after a certain level of skill, football becomes a game of chance. Where chance is the probabillity that a guy from the other team will slide an insult over ‘THE’ striker’s shoulder who will in turn bless his jaws. whistle!!! halt! red card!!! and history will have it recorded that the true ‘victim’ was ejected from the pitch.

. . .

As I hung up, I thought over the many conversations we had had with the little one. He had grown. He was no longer the sub who sat 90 minutes on the bench hoping that he would get into play during injury time. He was now coach; coaching his sister on the issues of life. I salute you Cesc! (by the way, you have my blessing to move over to Barca now that they are intent on ‘stealing’ Fabregas) I salute you!


* It’s been a year since I watched a soccer. Being Brazilian:-) I was completely shattered and for the first time ever I experienced the emotion of FANATISM. I now listen to the game over the radio #lesstress and must say I miss watching Jose… This guy is an enigma, he brings charisma, and can make you feel like a stigma (do you want another rap :))) but he definitely brings a certain je-ne-sais-quoi to the sport. I think he should ran for FIFA president next but that is a story for another day. For today, I wish my brother a truly happy birthday!

The Cutex Agenda

The other day I took a clipper and chopped of my nails. Life had turned abnormally hectic and maintaining a freshly manicured look was becoming increasingly difficult. There were days I had to choose between washing dishes and sitting pretty. And believe me it took me a couple of weeks to get to the decision of doing away with their length particularly after a friend asked if the nails were mine! O the things that make a girl happy 😀

I took some nail polish remover to get rid of the colour and my previously white nails now had a strange brownish discolouration as a result of the continuous application of cutex. Yes my nails are white and the doctors haven’t yet figured out why. It was previously thought to be anaemia but the labs don’t think so. Actually a couple of months ago some doctor asked to take a photo of them for some research. I wonder what was the outcome? I was then suffering from a cold.

My nails were not only dirty in colour but also damaged* from the continuous buffing, ideally meant to smoothen the keratin, yet instead eroded its natural lustre. I held out my fingers. They looked sad. They had had enough of the acetone. It was time for these 10 to rest, to recuperate. (Nails protect our phalanges from sensitivity and injury, enhance precise movement and grip and the obvious one, make our digits look beautiful – wiki)