Posting and Posting

Do you think the generation starting school next year will know that post and posting has any application other than an electronic one?

Closing Post Offices
It's very hard to find any South African statistics (surprise!) about the business side of the postal service, but if the virtually bankrupt US postal service is threatening to close 3 700 rural post offices, and the UK's Royal Mail (in the process of privatisation) considering the closure of 2000 (again rural) offices,you can bet your brand new shiny Mandela R20.00 note that a similar trend is happening here.

Remaining Relevant - the Post Office
Hats off to several outlets in Jozi, who open much longer hours, even Sundays. Payment of a varied assortment of licenses and bills, usually the source of lengthy waits in queues at their home offices, can be done relatively painlessly at the PO now.  The SAPO attempts to remain relevant in a changing world - good for them.  It's a shame we still don't get parcel / registered letter advice slips, parcels go astray, and international mail is rifled, but well, the more things change....

Like most businesses, I bet the PO loves December for the influx of business in the form of Christmas cards and parcels.  Many retailers do as much as 40% of their annual turnover in November / December, and long may that continue.

But the holly  (or cheap and nasty tinsel) decked halls of the Post Office are probably not ringing with cash registers this year, as electronic mail and greeting cards continue to make inroads into the snail mail market.

It's estimated that in the USA (gotta love that country, they have stats and figures on everything!) the number of traditional paper cards sent in 2010 was 17.4 billion, a sharp drop from the 25.1 billion posted in 2007. 

On the positive side for e-cards - think environmental savings on the carbon footprint not only of the mailing of it, but also in the process of making and printing the cards, glueing the envelope and stamp, and those delightful little  gadgets which make your card sing absurd electronic carols on opening.

e-cards are instant
Big tick for taste and green friendly.  (too brain dead to calculate the manufacuture of the computer and electricity to power it, but factor that in on the negative e-side)  You can set electronic reminders, so little chance of forgetting to send a card.  And if you do leave it to the last minute, well, e-cards are instant, so right up until Christmas lunch, you can be e-mailing your greetings.

Traditional paper cards
The big plus for traditional paper cards is....well, frankly, an emotional one.  It feels as though more thought and effort has gone into the selection, writing and mailing of a paper card.  They look great on mantelpieces and stuck onto the walls, and can be reused every Christmas as part of the decor (recycling!) Buying cards made by self help communities, often using recycled paper, supports needy causes.

And speaking personally, I sit down every year, piles of cards in front of me, and feel connected somehow, the annual process of writing, stamping and addressing a card to a loved friend or family member, often thousands of miles away, penning the long, newsy (and overdue!) letter to enclose, seems to bring them closer, and their dear faces smile at me as I write.

Without a doubt, the number of cards arriving is on the decline, and will continue to do so, I'm sure.  And unless the boys marry rather traditional, old fashioned girls, the chances of cards arriving from them in years to come are slim indeed. 

No more paper Christmas cards
Yes, I'm pretty sure, that within a decade, the paper Christmas card will be a distant memory.  Seasonal greetings, if they happen at all, with be an electronic blizzard of e-cards, texts, BBM's, Whatzapp or Mix-it.  A moment in the mind, then gone forever.  No lingering reminder of the festive cheer to adorn the walls.

Very sad indeed.

A Tale of The Lazy Woodpecker

Once upon a time, the princess gazed out upon her barbet nesting log and beheld a new occupant.  Initially, being a little dumb regarding her feathered friends, she thought a new species of Barbet had moved in.


Feverishly flipping through the glorious technicolour photographs in her Sasol Book of Birds, comparing the professional photos with her home snaps, she was excited to identify a female Golden Tailed Woodpecker as the new resident of  No 1, Barbet Close.




Cool new digs, and no need to damage my  beak-icure (geddit?!)

Verily she gazes out upon her kingdom..
 

Expert opinion, in the form of her bird crazy dad, and more expertly, Duncan Butchart, local avian authority, confirmed the sighting.  Duncan said that she was probably roosting for the winter in the conveniently 'ready to move in' nesting log.  In spring, a mate would appear and they'd either leave or set up a family home.

 

Early mornings and late afternoons, the princess watched her newest subject staring out across the cool garden through the convenient doorway.  A creature of habit, Goldie exiting between 17h15 and 17h30 every afternoon, thence scavenging on the bark of various trees in the garden.

 

The princess felt at one with the lonely little Gn T woodpecker (especially as Goldies initials coincided with the princess's favourite tipple) - both nests empty or nearly so.  A kinship was forming...

 

Well, here we are, approaching Summer (tho' you'd never tell, we've morphed into the Lake District, or New Zealand, or Atlantis.....that's a blog for another day) and lo, Goldie remains in solitary splendour.  Nary a sign of a mate, nor a move to more fertile fields.  Will the princess and her faithful Gn T Woodpecker remain here til the end of their days, alone but never lonely, awaiting princes charming?

 

Who knows, and the fretting princess again consulted the expert, concerned that  Gn T Woodies mate for life, and are monogamous.  Duncan is puzzled, as the species is common around here, and even if Goldie is a widow, there are plenty of finely feathered batchelors about to collect her up and begin a new home.  Apparently, monogamous and mating for life is just that - when 1 life is ended, the grieving widow 
goes on the replacement prowl!
 

Goldie needs to watch out, however, as the Crested Barbets that raised a family of twins last year may wish to return to their home after an extended holiday.  Mr CB will make short work of a squatter in his log...and if Goldie was lacking the skills or energy to create her own nest in the numerous tree trunks, then taking on an angry Mr CB may be beyond her delicate capabilities as well.

 

For now, she roosts, eats, sleeps and continues to gaze out of her stolen log, and is a source of pleasure to the princess, who enjoys  almost daily chats to one of her prettiest subjects!

Visit Duncan's blog, Never a Gull Moment, for beautiful paintings and stories about his birding adventures.   http://duncanbutchart.wordpress.com/



STOP PRESS UPDATE:

The best welcome home gift awaited the Princess on her return - Goldie has a mate!  TWO Golden Tailed Woodpeckers happily tapping away on the log and branches!

LOLA – TO THE DOG BOX!

I love my car, I really do.  More executive than cheeky, more mumsy than sexy, she takes me everywhere I wanna go, in great comfort and style.

She alternates between being a racing car (running late), 4x4 (irresistible mud puddle and embankment), cooling chamber (humid Lowveld day), mobile rock concert (long drive to Jozi), Stuttafords removals van, and the building supplies delivery truck – the last particularly driving Alan up the wall.  He knows the nuclear fallout which will occur the day Lola is damaged by paint or cement spillage!

However, darling Lola Montez is cruising for a trip to the knackers’ yard – recently, fantasies of trading her in for a sleek, cute Honda Z car fill my thoughts.  This is not totally a result of wanting to earn some green credits - the Z is gorgeous and whilst the jury is out on the overall effectiveness of the hybrids, I’ll feel a deeper shade of green cruising around in one.

Nope, Lola’s threatened banishment is largely due to her temperamental behaviour this year. 

Remember, I live in a village nearly 30kms away from the closest Honda dealer, Netstar, panel beater or windscreen company.  In breath stifling humidity.  This is NOT the place to have Madam Lola get temperamental on me.

With 2012 being the year of cosmic change and uncertainty, she chose to take that quite literally and in short order, over the past 6 months, has caused:

-          3 trips to the dealer to sort out a faulty air conditioner relay.  And weeks without aircon.  In 37 deg heat.  She may sashay around in tropical fashion, I merely melt.  And moan.

 

-          3 trips to Glasfit to have windscreen chips fixed.

-          7 days at the panel beaters to fix a minor bumper exchange with a crusty sandbank at Ulusaba.

-          A service, which turned out to be no longer covered by the service plan.  Ouch!

-          A routine tracker test turned into 2 trips to Nelspruit and a 3 hour wait to have a brand new system installed.

Getting backwards and forwards to Nelspruit, and spending days without transport, for a family whose vehicles are 1 Lola and 1 miniscule scooter – difficult, frustrating and entailing calling in of, and begging of, favours from various friends.  Not nice at all.

So for the ‘quick’ jobs – aircon relay, tracker test and replacement, windscreen repair, I went the ‘while you wait’ option.  Urgh, just wonderful to sit in some dodgy workshop, laptop perched on my knees, which were wound around my ears, thanks to the marvellous waiting room furniture – brought in from granny’s flat, probably the lounge suite she and granddad bought when they first got married in 1936!

Lola Montez, I have seen the future, and a trim hybrid is just waiting in the wings.  You have been warned!

 Lola on her way to Catembe - Boat Car

 

POSTSCRIPT 

It slipped my mind to mention the new set of tyres (2 hour 'while you wait') and new set of brake discs and pads.  Probably courtesy of her transformation into driving school vehicle, complete with L plate on the back window!

Bah, Humbug! - Keep Calm & Carry On

I need your help, please.  First, some background to the issue.

I'm the original Christmas Elf.  I LOVE Christmas. From the end of November, the carols play all day, every day.

Decor is installed gleefully; hours are spent contemplating the very best spots to place the decorations.  Every tree ornament lovingly unpacked, and a few minutes spent on them all, remembering the stories behind each and every one.  Complete with a glass of wine and a mince pie or two, roaring away to 'Snowy the Snowman' and 'Lonely Little Christmas Tree'.

The family head for the hills, and leave me to it.  Long gone are the days when the boys were as eager as I, and fought for the best position for their own ornaments.  We had a family tradition, begun when Keith was about 2, of buying a new, special ornament each year, for each child. It is easy to see when they were old enough to make their own choices - the tasteful, hand painted china and wooden ornaments were replaced by glitzy, tawdry plastic balls and beads, the bigger the better.  Funny how those, once the cause of some maternal decor distress, now get pride of place on the tree, because of the memories attached to them.

I think the endless carols get them down, and when I'm away, the tree lights are never switched on, but even the grinches have to admit that home is gorgeous, oozing luscious smells, warmth and love with the Christmas spirit and cheer in place.

So what's the problem, you ask?  Simple.  Keith, commuting between Phinda and Jozi, won't be here this year. Robert leaves in a week for Spring Break, and will be away for the best part of a month.  Alan comes home for 4 days early December, then is gone until mid January. From the middle of December I'll be in deepest, darkest Africa, on a beach somewhere.  Summer Christmas, far away from home.

Does it therefore make any sense to put the decorations up?  To haul down the unwieldy and large box containing the tree? Not even this elf enjoys breaking it all down after 12th night; nothing ever fits, something is always forgotten and left out - the fantasy gone, leaving dust and bits of tinsel scattered around.

All that work for a few days enjoyment, unshared?  True, the whole palaver is pretty much for my benefit, the boys have moved on from seasonal excitement.  I've told myself that I'm worth it, and it is for me anyway, but this year, the pep talk is not working. 

Somehow "Just for me" usually captions a long soak in a candlelit bubblebath, a night off from cooking dinner, perhaps even a pedicure.  Hours of hard, lonely labour hardly seems to fit the bill!

Perhaps it's time to create new traditions - we've been through the live pine tree in a pot stage (not recommended - mess everywhere, awkward to put ornaments on, and totally NOT a Christmas tree shape!!) we've had the modern African wire tree (lovely, clean and different, but lacking personality) and are back to the traditional Chinese plastic 6' wonder.  Should I get a pot bound indigenous tree, or one made from recycled paper?  Would this be less work, and still feel Christmassy?

The answer, I fear, is that Christmas for me is all about having the traditions and the family around.  I am sunk deep in  misery thinking of absent children - will Keep Calm and Carry On, decorating as usual, soothe my soul? Am I ready to embrace a more modern approach and acknowledge a summer Christmas (something else that bugs me being in the southern hemisphere this time of year!)

Let me know what you think - all ideas and suggestions gratefully received!

Aussie, Aussie, Aussie - oi, oi, oi!

Finally, something great out of Australia!  Not that I've anything against Aussies, I'm friends with a few.

Granted, they are ex-pat South Africans, but they've been in Oz for years, love it there and consider themselves Australian, so they must count as Aussies.

Australia, it emerged out of the matric Geography studies, counts housewives as Quinaries.

Yes, I know, a big "huh?" moment for me too, but Geo brains explained.  Of course, I googled and double checked on a few sites, but his textbook is right (phew, hundreds of thousands of Rands blown on his education well spent!)

Economists divide a nation's economy into activity sectors. A primary sector kicks off the first sector, being the one which extracts or harvests products from the earth.  So agriculture, mining, fishing, quarrying etc. 

Next comes the secondary sector, which manufactures finished goods.  All manufacturing, processing and construction fall in here - metal work, car, ship and plane building, breweries, energy production, chemical and engineering industries.

Which leads us onto the tertiary sector - the service industry.  Retail and wholesale sales, transport and distribution, entertainment, media, tourism, banking, law and healthcare are all within the tertiary sector.

Climbing the ladder of economic sectors, we arrive at the quaternary level - intellectual activities.  Government (gulp - scary!!!) culture, libraries, information technology, education and scientific research. 

Finally, we arrive at the pinnicle - the quinary sector.  Top dogs. Considered to be the highest levels of decision making in a society or economy.  So top executives in government, science, universities, culture and the media.

And bless Australia, HOUSEWIVES!  The Oz government recognises domestic activities performed by stay-at-home parents or homemakers.  Despite these activities not usually being measured in monetary terms, the Aussies have recognised how important the contribution that these activities make to the economy is.

Now, I'm married to a man who cannot, in any way, understand that running a home and family is a demanding challenge.  He blows raspberries at any suggestion that the average South African woman, with her appliances and gadgets, home help, gardening service, and technology, is stretched or performing a worthy service. At all.  And if he winds up dead with a plate smashed into his skull, it'll be because he's scoffed one time too many, when I've stood in the kitchen, eyes round as saucers, and hissed through gritted teeth "I cannot deal with the waterproofing contractor tomorrow, I've got too much to do!"

Note, if you will, STAY-at-home parents are in the top league - did no one think to ask where the working OUT of the home mothers fit in?  Quinary +1?  So I can't wait to show him www.geography.about.com, and stand smugly behind him while he sees that my homemaker status way outranks his paltry secondary sector.

Sadly, in this money ranked world, no matter how you cut it, his salary way outranks mine, and is set to do so for a long time yet.

Now if only the Oz government could find a way to institute minimum wages for running homes and families....emigration would be on my agenda!

It has been said that 'the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world' - funny how, in the global  flurry to measure the size of the executive package and status, only the Australians have worked out that the person who does the household shopping, chooses the schools, Doctor and Dentist, makes the decisions on the service providers and books the holidays is a supremely powerful decision maker and influencer.

Still, I do believe that we need to give some thought to petitioning who knows who here in South Africa, and at least get homemakers the recognition they well deserve.  Shall we meet for a glass of wine to discuss the campaign? 

Ranting about rubbish and recycling

I'll admit, I'm a crotchety, intolerant old witch, but I really cannot understand the thought processes of the residents of White River, with regards to offloading their glass at the glass banks.

We live in a little village, in a beautiful (if off the beaten track) province, in a country where the very basics of existence absorb nearly all attention and resources, leaving little for the 'new essentials' like the environment.

So the collaboration between Consol and the municipality; to dot bottle banks around the town, left me, for one, feeling very warm and fuzzy inside.  At last, a positive step on an issue outside of housing, water, electricity, jobs, education, health....

And it appears that many residents are stepping up to the plate. I often see them at my closest bottle bank, in shiny 4x4 station wagons, bakkies, sleek sedans, offloading.  More warm and fuzzy innards!

I was enraged this morning, after making an embarrassingly large bottle deposit of my own, to see the state of the ground around the bottle bank.

Mr Joe Public, you've read enough about, and applied your mind, to the issue of recycling. 

You felt strongly enough about it to separate and collect your glass waste.  You got into your car, and made the detour / trip to the bottle bank, so that you could do your bit and ensure that your waste is responsibly disposed of.

So pray, explain to me then, why you simply got out of your car, dumped your box and plastic bag filled with bottles next to the bank, returned to your car and drove off?

Just who do you think is going to post your bottles into the bank?  And why is your box filled with cans?  Is the green container, clearly marked GLASS ONLY, confusing to you? 

What makes it worse, is that the waste lying around the container, has encouraged dumping of all sorts of other rubbish.  Like the pile of pap and vleis, chop bones etc.  Someone emptied a heap of ash into a box of bottles and tins left next to the bank, meaning that the whole lot now needs to be sorted, cleaned and separated yet again, or more likely dumped into general garbage.

Crisp packets, cans, fruit peels...the list of rotting and smelly waste at the bottle bank goes on.  Shards of broken glass just add to the aesthetic appeal...

Is this how you run your household cleansing, Mrs Josie Public?  Are dinnerplates, coffee cups and dirty cutlery taken to the sink, and left there to rot?  Bits of paper, packaging, potato peels not binned, just left where they fall? 

Is the final step in the clearing process just ignored and forgotten about?

Well done you, for beginning the recycling process, and caring enough to try and make a difference.

It is, however, incomprehensible to me, that you should go so far, and falter at the last hurdle: gleefully dropping the bottles through the slot, and listening to the satisfying smashing of glass.  Have you ever seen a person hanging about the bank, looking as though they are employed to clean up after you?  No, you haven't, because there isn't one!  Putting your waste into the bin is your task! That is what you went there to do, for goodness sake!

Bottom line, White River residents, is this - if you're going to make a difference, see it all the way through, and do it properly.

The results of your laziness will come back to haunt you.  Someday, someone is going to make enough noise at council about the health hazard and mess at the bottle banks all over town.  Or Consol will tire of trying to separate and clean up, every time their truck arrives to empty the bin.  That is not part of their process, it's costly, and they'll simply call it quits. Eventually, council will instruct Consol to remove the bins, and a recycling project will fail.  In a few years, someone will try and start another recycling project, and receive a firm NO from the powers that be, citing the mess and failure of this, our first town wide attempt.

Nicely done, Joe and Josie Public.

THE NATURAL LOOK

Alright, I confess.  Yes, I was watching daytime TV. And yes, it is every bit as awful as reputed to be. And yes, it serves me right for being such a couch potato. 

In my defence, I was woman down with bronchitis, eventually giving up the fight and climbing into bed.

Eyes streaming, nose glowing, too achy and miserable to sleep & unable to read, I reached for the remote and had an out of  planet experience, watching a piece of Hollywood’s best celluloid.

An entire programme devoted to showing the world how to mimic their favourite movie stars make up.

The winning look of the day— a natural one, sported by Nicole Kidman.

How would you define natural?  Completely without make up?  A quick brush of mascara & a slick of lipstick before rushing out of the door perhaps?

Or possibly, using completely organic ingredients, such as rubbing rose petals over cheeks and lips, for a pink blush as practised by the Victorians.

Well, you’d be wrong.  Even my bacteria addled brain took on board, and began counting, the layers of potions used to give the skin a “natural” look

After the cleansing, toning and application of 2 different moisturisers, came the serum, under eye concealer, blemish concealer and base, before applying 4 shades of eye shadow, several layers of mascara, eyeliner, lip pencil and gloss, some blush and a light dusting of powder.

Given that ‘green’ is the buzzword du jour, together with his cousins ‘natural, organic & wholesome’ and that this family of words is  used—alongside images of waterfalls, forests, tranquil lakes and ponds, the foaming sea, and masses of greenery - to sell everything from a myriad of bath, body and hair products,  to food, water, holidays, air conditioners, household cleansers, even cars (!) - I do believe that ‘natural’ and his ilk need to be redefined in the OED. In 2012,  they don’t appear to resemble anything close to organic and of the earth!

Still, as much as the chemical laden gloop ladled onto that model’s face being referred to as ‘natural’ should send shivers down our spines,at least some effort is made nowadays to ensure that the really ‘out there’ poisons are not included in the potions produced and sold by the trillion US $ cosmetic industry.

In times gone by, false eyebrows were made of mouse fur.   Women rinsed their eyes out with Belladonna, orange or lemon juice, to make them bright and shiny.  Or drank arsenic to get the same effect!  The forerunner of today’s whitening toothpaste was a good scrub with a pumice stone.  Chalk and iodine were ingested for a whiter complexion.  Or you were bled, to get that pale, translucent look! Mercury was rubbed onto blemishes to hide them, and white lead used liberally to attain that desirable white skin.

Small wonder, then, that the life expectancy of yesteryear was pretty low with those natural, yet toxic, cosmetics!

The natural look, indeed.

(first published in Live Lightly Times  Oct 2012)