Marshmallows & Merlot

not such a fan of the view . And even less impressed (but not surprised) by my particular brand of Sandtonite irresponsibility. You see, I have less cash to my name at the mo' than Malema has tact and yet I am still keeping my hair appointment this afternoon. Yip, I booked it weeks ago and just can't bring myself to cancel it.  I figure if I'm going to have to deal with last year's Winter wardrobe and creative homecookin' from the things that have lurked in the back of my pantry cupboard since 2005 then having to deal with three months re-growth and frizzy grey hairs just may send me over the edge. My justification? I shouldn't have to cancel it because I should have been paid weeks ago...  Confused? Let me explain. I have worked harder this past 6 weeks than I have in the past 6 months but the curse of the freelancer is the agency clanger – payment in 30 days from invoice . I knew that going in, and I was prepared for it, hubby and I knew that the first mont

Sometimes I simply can't resist a little bite-sized blog post. Every now and then one of my fabulous, gorgeous, ever-so-talented friends does something that is blog-worthy. Today two of the many dynamic women I know – an old friend  from highschool and my sister-in-law – posted stuff that is simply too delicious not to share. Picking up a food theme by my choice of words? Well, there's a good reason for that. Wanna know more? Check out  this website  and look at this blog  because every domestic goddess can do with a little help when it comes to keeping the pantry cupboard  dinner party-friendly. Deciding whether to click on the links or not? There's a lot more where these came from if you do...

Time & place: 12h45, patio at mom's house, taking advantage of the Winter sunshine and Wifi while Nana puppy-sits Reading: Got halfway through Eat, Pray, Love  – Loved 'Italy', got a bit bored with all the 'aaaaahmmm-ing' in India. Hoping to finish reading The Jesus I never knew   by Philip Yancey before the month is over Listening to: 'Fight for this love' by Cheryl Cole and waaaaay too much radio (I blame the DSTV audio channels) Watching: Loving 'American Idol' (Go Crystal!), the 6th season of 'Desperate Housewives' and 'FlashForward'. Super-excited about the new series of Damages and the premiere of 'Sex and the City II' next week.  State of mind: Content (although a little less '30 day payment policy' and a little more cash flow would be appreciated) State of body: Running at stupid o' clock most mornings. Managed to avoid frostbite so far but the knee is still insisting on whining at me.  State of sou

Really, doesn't seem so bad when you get to do it at home, in your PJs with The Style Network on in the background and your puppy fast asleep on your lap...

Your 10-year highschool reunion –  It's the last real coming of age milestone in your life. Love it or hate it, if you've been ducking and diving the 'grown-up' label since matriculating, there's no hiding from it at the reunion. The girls you used to ride home on the school bus with have children, the girl who was always in the principles office for smoking or skipping gym class is the Director of her own business and married to a conservative blonde/blue-eyed IT geek, and the girl who was voted least likely to ever settle down was the first to get hitched and is so broody she makes Carol Brady look un-maternal. There is no escaping it – the schoolgirl is now a grown up.  The above paragraph may seem a little too specific to be about making a general point. And it is. You see, I had the privilege of attending my 10-year reunion on Saturday. I say this without a hint of sarcasm. I really mean it – I felt privileged. Not only because my mom worked her cute 5 foot not

Good grief! It's been two weeks since I last sat down to put pen to paper, or rather manicured fingertips to keyboard. Time flies when the work outweighs the play... yes, you read that correctly – this (sometimes but not enough to effect the waistline) starving artist has been working more than she's been brunching & lunching. Why? Well, it would appear that I've landed with my very white bum in the butter and this freelance copywriting thing is shaping up to be what I've always wanted: A way to be creative and earn some dough, a way to live the way I want to and actually make a living .  Over the past 14 days I've strolled from one freelance gig to another and been handed bigger and better opportunities on the back of small projects that I nervously accepted and hammered away at my Macbook 'til all hours of the morning to reach an end result that I was happy to submit (wow that was a long sentence. I can hear Mrs. Williams – my grade 12 English teacher –

Jozi is actually pretty darn peacefu l at 05h30 on a Thursday morning in May. Sure, it's the kind of weather that suits polar bears rather than people and not even the sun's done a wake up but it's quiet. The city seems to stand still, if only for a few hours before the worker bees descend on the roads and buzz around dodging guys selling coat hangers and sunglasses and 'that was so made in Taiwan' Bafana Bafana tees. I bet you're thinking: "how does she know this?" Which is understandable – I'm the kinda girl who is usually fast asleep, tucked deep under a gazillion blankets with a hubby to me right and a puppy to my left until the sun is in the sky. Linda Evangelista famously said that she wouldn't get out of bed for less than a hundred thousand dollars... Well, I definitely 'aint a supermodel (I'm a few sandwiches short of that picnic) but I used to have a demand of my own when it came to ringing in a new day – "I don't ge

This place is a circus . Yip, home sweet home has finally lost the last shred of sanity it was clinging to with french manicured fingertips. And all it took was a couple of days of London-type weather to send my quaint little Sunninghill loft over the edge. We, as South Africans, take our climate foregranted. We take the ability to dedicate one of our balconies to the laundry as normality. We take the afternoon outing to the park with the puppy so that it can actually piddle on a giant piece of grass and socialise with other four-legged creatures as a given. We assume that our newly planted patio gardens will get enough sunshine and that the chilli seeds we just found a home are in no danger of drowning... but then we never thought we'd see 48 hours of solid rain pouring down in a river down our windows in Johannesburg at the end of April.  That phrase 'April showers' only applies to Europeans with their chic trenchcoats and elegant designer umbrellas. Right? Wrong! Apparen