Good Samaritan Saturday..

Well, my mother is. I tagged along to help her out. On the 16 May, my mother had her little tea garden stall at a local Flea Market. This was not just any flea market. She was taking part to raise funds for Ningizimu Special School.

Ningizimu is a school for children, up to the age of 18, with special needs. They range from Autistic children with learning disabilities, happy little girls with Down Syndrome, positive kids in wheelchairs. They are all happy, lively young people with a positive outlook! As you may have guessed, this is not a mainstream grade school; however, they learn a range of skills from playing the Marimba and being a part of a steel drum band, pottery classes, sewing & upcycling classes.


My nephew, the little Picasso that he is, decided to draw me a picture of a…Rhino! Haha! Can you see the horn?! This is adorable. He was extremely proud of it and I could not take it away from him!

I found these amazing upcycled bags made by the learners. These bags could last a lifetime! Why? They are made of old Tyre tubes. Yup! This is thinking out of the box! I am now a proud owner!

The Up-cycled Bags!
The Up-cycled Bags!
I am the Proud Owner of this Bag! :)
I am the Proud Owner of this Bag! ­čÖé

We were also entertained by a rather impressive marimba band. The students, of course!

What a beautiful Saturday! Well spent. Worth waking up early to set up. We raised some funds for the school! Waahaay!

Success! We are happy chappies!

So, from now on, I refuse to say, “I can’t…”

Loads of Happy Hearts and Smiles.

With Love,


PS: My mother is a teacher at Ningizimu Special School. 

PPS: I bought something else for myself. An old, old suitcase. Then, look inside, to see the label. It used to belong to a friend’s family. To his grandfather, to be precise! Small world!

philogene suitcase


Day 34

Monday. It wasn’t all bad. I was busy so I didn’t keep a watchful eye on the clock.

Nothing much happened today. But, Jenny has arrived in SA!!! We are having a booze cruise (just an excuse to have a cocktail party on a boat) on Sunday. I cannot wait for the weekend, I am frothing! Plus, to make the most of the weekend, I have taken Friday off. February will be my 28 days of happiness.

Problem: Fuel prices are increasing. By the end of the month, petrol might be R16 a litre. Uhm…


I think my father thinks I am a boy. The son he never had (I have four sisters). The first thing he does when I get back from work; he drags me outside to have a look at his new tyres and talk cars. I suppose I am the only one that really listens to him when he talks about such. Tyres, construction, cars.

“Well, I can’t describe her exactly – except to say that she was beautiful. She was –┬átremendously alive.” — F. Scott Fitzgerald




Day 21

Where did all the days go??

This is insane. Project 365 is proving to be quite a challenge. Are you telling me that I can’t find half an hour in my day to reflect and write my two cents worth? Life.

Tuesday. Normally quite boring. The cleaning lady at work has a poor pregnant neighbour that she had been telling me about. I spent the weekend collecting disposable nappies, baby creams and some of my old clothes to give her. I felt so heart sore that she was going to bring a life on Earth meanwhile she cannot even clothe or feed herself. Stereotypically in these situations, the father of this unborn baby has fled the scene. It felt so good to do something for someone that I have never met before. It really does not hurt to be kind. Not even a follicle.

On Saturday. Or, Friday. My weekends are just all merged in to one day. I decided to watch 12 Years a Slave. I am glad I did. What a darn slap in the face. I urge every single human being to watch the film. Black & White. Slavery was a reality some what 150 years ago. That’s not so long ago if you think about the Earth’s history. It’s pretty much like it was happening yesterday. God, what an awful, awful thing! I ask myself how people could possibly have so much hate towards another race. I will never tolerate anybody, black or white, using the term nigger loosely. Such a disgusting connotation to it. It was also disgusting to see that if a white man needed a vagina, they would go for the black female slaves. After all, they had no feelings, no rights — just vaginas. Somehow, I have a feeling this could still be happening in the twenty-first century but in a more subtle way. What a shame. Of course, I┬ápromote a non-racist, non-sexist environment, but it does not mean that I over look all the wrong in my country, especially. I wish to change people’s perceptions and mind sets. Watch the film and weep..

12 years a slave 12_Years_A_Slave

I have been making some fun plans with some friends. I think I owe it to myself. God, I love having a car, haha!

Finally, Man United supporters have been rather quiet after the Chelsea thrashing. Eina! And naturally, the coach is getting the rough end of it.

Oh, I would really LOVE a pair of these..dream a little VELVETI need a sponsor? xx