No More Excuses

I settled..settled in my new life. I wake sometimes with two big hands choking me as my thoughts run back to my security before. I open my curtains and see the space I created for myself..freedom.. farm..simple living..
My love for myself is slowly returing.. I smile at the face in the mirror.. :”You crazy you know”.. says the face back to me..”.. and I giggle. I can giggle as I am allowed to be who I want to be now.. But was my being in marriage so bad??
No it was not..it just was not me..
No More Excuses.. profound and uncomfortable. . It is me…the face looking at me..we are living my life now.. the are No More Excuses..

Homo erectus

Sitting on my lil Stoep.. reading life moments like this..making me want to go down on fours and see the world from a different level..

Riekie Greyling

This is where I walked this morning.
And I just loved it!
And I am never going to tell anybody that I sat on my bum in the long grass to take the pictures of the fluffy little balls of nature against the sun and that I couldn’t get up again because of the knees and the balance and yes, the age, and that I sat there for a few minutes IMG_2390casually pretending that that is exactly where I wanted to be but I am sure I didn’t convince the dogs because they sat in a straight stripe in front of me staring and I am almost sure I heard them laugh but I am 100% sure they were giggling hysterically when I got onto my knees and joined them on all fours and nonchalantly walked like a fat bull terrier to a spot where I was able to pull…

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Eternal spring

And being on my own journey led me now to reading such wonderful writing.. add music and eating peanuts for dinner.. and life after marriage .. is.. (complete yourself)

Riekie Greyling

I’m young at heart and dress accordingly. – Ivana Trump


I thought I looked quite funky on that first dry, sunny Saturday morning we had in weeks.
“Very sporty,” my friend commented at the sight of my skateboard baggies, thick-soled surfer shoes and bright yellow golf shirt.
Indeed I said, bowling an imaginary ball at the CNN reported on the flat screen who in turn, on the spot, declared war on me.
Funky? Maybe.
But the fact was I had completely disregarded the six decades+ of summers on my body clock.
And the winter white legs.
And the past season’s stew-and-chocolate tube resting comfortably on my hips filling every inch of my short-long pants in that area.
And most of all, the fact that my very classy friend was taking me to lunch to celebrate spring at an up-market restaurant set in the Durbanville hills surrounded by massive oak…

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