Work at Daddy. Instead of offering my usual email drafting assistance, and letter writing skills; my Dad and I have been putting my excel expertise to the test in the form of spreadsheets to keep his clients updated on their various investments.  I am undoubtedly a wordy person, and I don’t have much experience with figures and finances, but I am development a knack for numbers that I never knew existed.

My first lesson was learning about interest rates, and how to calculate them monthly; depending on the particular investment. Then it was a matter of calculating initial capital investment, adding the additional payments, the interest on both; the end of quarterly reporting on current capitals and so on.

Phew. It took a while to figure out the correct formulas to put in place; but now that the ground work is done, it’s a matter of inputting the additional investments during the month, and my spreadsheet does the rest of the work. God forbid Daddy accidentally deletes the document!

I have also taken it upon myself to draft the budgets for our clients for inclusion in their AGM packs. Most Trustees and Directors don’t have a clue how to prepare them; and truth be told, neither did I on my first one – and with a complete lack of training from anyone in my office to guide me; I decided to figure it out myself. And by trial and error; and trial balances I have become quite proficient in my estimated income and expenditures.

The best part of it is that it keeps me away from people. A cruel species I am growing to dislike as an alarmingly growing rate. Give me numbers any day; there’s very little room for misinterpretation.


Once the working day is done, I will be dropping Angel off as Scouts – which she is still excelling at, and absolutely loving.  She received a [fake] Swiss Army Knife as a birthday present, and now her uniform is finally complete, as believe it or not, a multi–functional tool forms part of their official uniform. Barring the fong kong logo, it looks exactly like the classic knife set and has all the tools she needs. Including a cock screw for my wine. Bonus.

Our only problem is that Angel sometimes goes home after school on a Friday with Nina’s mom; and thereafter the girls go to Scouts together. Which means she takes her Scout uniforms [yes plural, they have a 1st (formal) and 2nd (casual) uniform that they are required to wear at various times during their Friday night meetings. The 1st is during the opening and closing ceremonies; and the 2nd for when they building fires, bridges or dangling from the ceiling. Therefore, the knife being part of uniform, as already explained, it should be with her pants, shirts, belt, scarf, woggle etc; however, should madam be found with a weapon at school, it equates to immediate expulsion.

So we’re still trying to find our way around that one.

Once Angel is safely ensconced with her patrol and troop; I shall be heading off to visit old friends that I recently reunited with.

Without getting into all the gory details, Micky and I met when our boyfriends were in a band together. We became professional groupies and later married our respective singers.  I had Star with mine, and she went on to have four kids. Her oldest son is a few months older than Star, and her second son a year younger. This was followed by girl twins a year thereafter, so all the kids are very close in age, and they grew up together.

During / after my bitter divorce, I moved in with Micky and her family for several months until I was back on my feet and could find a place of my own.  She became more of a big sister to me, and we, and our kids; were absolutely inseparable.

Even when the family relocated to the Northern Cape many years later, we remained in touch; and Star and I paid many a visit to the hot hell hole.  Soon Angel was born and Mix’s youngest daughter doted on her as if she were her own; despite her only being 6 or seven at the time. As soon as I would enter the house, I would be relieved of my baby, who would be bathed, dressed and fed as well as if I had done so myself.

Time continued passing, and they finally returned to Jo’burg where our happily not-so-little family was reunited. Unfortunately the happiness did not last, and whilst I shan’t go into the details; we had a humongous falling out, and I abruptly and coldly cut them out of the my life. I missed the children terribly, and my own children suffered being separated from their “cousins”; however I felt the betrayal bestowed on me, vindicated my venomous reaction.

Eight years passed in the blink of an eye, and with the advent of Facebook and other social media tools; Star and Mix’s children found each other and started communicating. As they got older, they would secretly visit each other too; not letting on to any of us parents.

A few months ago I received a visit from the older twin daughter; who was (is) my god daughter.  I was shocked to see her so grown up, and I had a twinge of regret at missing out on so much of her life.  A week later one of her brothers came to see me, and this will followed up by a visit from their other brother a week after that. I was absolutely thrilled to see the kids [young adults now] again; however it wasn’t enough for me to forgive and forget what transpired between their parents and I.

Some wounds cut too deep to heal.

Or so I thought.

Then I was faced with a nightmare. One in which I was forced to remain wide awake and I was too afraid to even resort to a sip of alcohol or puff of spliff in the fear that once I started; I would sink into a deep dark abyss in my quest to numb the pain. Several sober weeks later and I was almost out of the woods.

And then I received the most unexpected Whatsapp message.

From Mix.

She first stated that Star had been visiting them regularly – I had surmised as such, since her kids were often at my place, it stood to reason that the reverse would be true; and that she had thought about all of us throughout these years of distance; that she missed us terribly and hoped that I could somehow find it in my heart to forgive them; put the past behind us; and possibly re-engage in conversation.

I cried upon reading the message; and eight years of bitterness, anger and betrayal shed in those salty waters as though they have never existed. Once the poisons were sufficiently released, I messaged Mix back and without using the words “forgive” or “forget” – because one is rather difficult and the other completely impossible; I indicated that I too wished to wipe the slate clean and move on.

Within 24 hours of the Whatsapp messaging marathon we had an emotional reunion, and the daughter who hadn’t paid me a visit, joined in. The reason for her not visiting prior to this, with her brothers and sister, was due to the fact that she was eight months pregnant and was rather housebound.

To cut a long story short; we have all been spending a lot of time together.  Star has all but moved into the bachelor pad [Mix’s boys stay in a cottage on the property] and Angel and I have been going over every second evening.  The preggie daughter went into labour on Angel’s birthday on Tuesday, and we were all very sure that she would give birth then. However, the poor mite experienced a longer than normal labour, and finally gave birth to a healthy baby boy in the early hours of Wednesday morning.

Due to the fact that there is no baby daddy or kin; we have been nominated as the baby’s other side of the family and I will officially be the kids grandma.  Mix will be called Mimi, and I shall be MeMa. [not be confused with the lesser preferred Meemaw]. Star will be the stand-in part-time baby daddy slash token uncle, and Angel is the other aunty and official baby sitter. She has already changed his nappy and played dress-up. I on other other hand, have been peed and pooed on. I guess he’s marking his territory.


I can’t have too late a night at Mix et al this evening, as I have a 08h30 meeting tomorrow morning with the other Directors on the board I sit on.  We haven’t our first AGM at 10h30, however we first need a Directors meeting in order to devise the way forward. I have unanimously been elected Group Secretary [bleh], but I suppose that’s fair since the rest of the members bring with them the required technical and financial expertise, that I severely lack. If I even told you what Association we are the board for, you’d be WTF Harmony?

That should keep me rather busy for the morning, but hopefully won’t run too far into the evening because I’m going to be utterly exhausted from the early morning. On a Saturday nog al. And truth be told I haven’t had a full night sleep in weeks and I have developed bags under my eyes. A first for me.  Another alteration in my appearance is the lack of nails. That’s right; I chopped my talons off. I hacked them as close to the bone as I could possibly get them, and then still filed them until they bled, just for good measure. Just one of those things; some people lock up their guns and munition; I cut my nails.

As for the rest of the weekend, time will tell what happens. What I wouldn’t give to be sitting in front of a roaring fireplace with a glass bottle of red on hand.