Tiah Beautement's Blog, page 140

16 Days of Activisim

Damaria is holding a blog party: 16 Days of Activism Against Gender Violence. It is a nationwide event. D just walked in, bubbling with excitement over the march happening near her home, which will come right into town. I've spoke more than once on my tendency to spout off. I seem incapable of discussing the issues in a calm and mature manner. Not sure if ranting is really all that helpful, despite the fact that the issue is full of very justified anger on many women's part. So I am not blogging about it for sixteen days. Heck, I don't...

Thankfully...

...there is so much to be thankful for. And a large number of my friends and family are gearing up for an entire day to celebrate and give thanks. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. And I'm grumpy. Not supposed to say that. Especially right now, on THANKSGIVING! So do you like PC, smile plastered on the face, or the truth? I think the majority prefer to hear, 'All's just ducky here!' So, maybe skip this blog post. I'd like to kick November to the curb. And to be perfectly honest, I've rather enjoyed this year, despite scary moments like Thing 2 cracking...

And another year is done...

This morning Mrs B, armed with stickers and cake, said good-bye to another year of ball-skills students. They gave her hugs, smiles and even a lovely prezzie in return. Mrs B managed not to cry, but only just. It is such a cliche, but it is so true - this year flew by. Last year seemed so much longer, maybe because it was brand new (and I was carrying a baby on my back). And it seems I've agreed to year number three. I won't even have a child in pre-primary. Wow. To all of you who have helped make...

This Place I Call Home

Not a lot of time to blog today, I'm afraid. But wanted to give a small shout out to a book I recently read (See below). In the meantime, I hope you have a lovely day. This Place I Call Home, by Meg Vandermerwe is a short story collection painting a broad portrait of South Africa. The writing style echos Arja Salafranca, but the settings seem to give a nod to Henrietta Rose-Innes. It is an interesting collection, to say the least.

The writer who can't write

My first drafts are the stuff of nightmares. Of course there is the obvious to deal with: plot, structure and trimming the fat. But my biggest demons hide in the details such as punctuation and spelling. Ah, I know, you are reading this and thinking, 'Me too!' Or maybe not. If you are like me, when your editor tells you that you have spelt your character both Pumla and Pulma, you will blink in confusion. I read the sentence again and again, not understanding her complaint. It wasn't until I actually circled the two names, did they stop looking exactly...

No see in sea

I am falling apart; and, I'm not even 33 for another few weeks. What am I going to be like at 66? Here is the break down: right wrist, shoulder and ankle are all in need of braces for various activities; and, as of this morning, right eyeball is gooey with the left appearing to considered it. Conjunctivitis. Brilliant. Now I am stuck in glasses for the next few days (week?) and they are crap. The lenses, covered in scratches, are not even made for the current frames, but were jammed into new frames as a stop gap a week...

Me, Home Affairs, Paige Nick and Bookery

So I spent this morning at my local Home Affairs and they found me. Easily. Even showed me a print off of where they are at (not far...but there is positive forward movement). I am very glad to see a PRINT OUT and not just here 'It's fine.' One thing I've learned in the past two years is what you are TOLD is often not the same as planet reality. In more charitable news, Paige Nick of the blog A million miles from normal (and a lovely book by the same name) is a fan of the charity Bookery. If...

Argh! (Home Affairs)

Ring...ring...ring...ring...ring... I've been listening to that a lot, lately. To recap: I went in August, Moses sorted a bunch of stuff and I got... A reference number (at last!) from Pretoria to indicate they were processing my permenant residency application. Then a good chunck of the country went on strike. Then the powers-that-be decided that people of Zim, living here, now needed to do some extra little thing, and gave both them and Home Affairs an unrealistic deadline to make that happen. *Panic at the Home Office* Thus, the idea that there may be a few delays in my application,...

Writing Classes?

Just finished reading the blog post titled I Don't Get It, by YA author Rosemary Graham. In it, she gives her opinion over a certain author's latest headline making scam (sorry, he gets enough publicity without needing me to add a log to the fire). The reason I link the post is due to her comment, "In my view, Columbia, which charges 45K 48K a year for its MFA, preys on students!" That's a lot of cash. In Jennifer Weiner's Advice for Writers, her point number four is: Get a Job (not an MFA). (Reading her full write up, esp...

When the heart has too many homes

It comes like a sucker punch, leaving an ache that physically hurts. It has nothing to do with stress or unhappiness. Often life is perfectly fine, even happy. But it is always unexpected: a smell, a food, the random sight of a Marks & Spencer carrier packet. This last time was no exception. There I was, tucked in bed, watching a painfully rubbish rom-com, when suddenly the main character was in a forest. It was unmistakably The Great North West. It had everything: an honest sized river, the right coloured rocks, the ferns and the enormous trees, all glowing with...