Tag Archives: Swaziland

Leaving

There are so many ways of leaving, of ending things, aren’t there? Paul Simon sang of fifty. Which reminds me of ‘Still Crazy After All These Years.’ Which reminds me of a sad end to a strange relationship. But that’s … Continue reading

Posted in Thinking, or ranting, or both, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 28 Comments

The witch’s cauldron

Hubble bubble. Toil – and so much trouble. It’s been a while since I penned a post. Titles sit alphabetically festering in my file. Symbols, waiting to lead into eloquent cries of woe. Painful shrieks of angst. Or even, you … Continue reading

Posted in Simple Food for Simple Folk (like me), Socks, spoons, stones and sunsets, Travelling, Zambia | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 11 Comments

North, south and nowhere. Of rape, politics, PR and simple geography

I’m angry. I apologise in advance if this is poorly researched, disjointed and incoherent. I’m not stopping to find things out, I’m writing from the heart, not the brain. And I’m writing as a northern English person who feels passionate … Continue reading

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Oh, sweet-heart! (and why you don’t need a cake tin to make a sponge cake)

I’ve thought a lot about the warthogs and I’ve reached a conclusion. They’re not going to stop me. I need out. I need to shop – no, don’t be sexist, not that kind of shopping, food shopping. I’m cooking for … Continue reading

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Suzy’s cabin, a missed appointment & a little yellow pill

‘I’ve got a cabin on the game reserve – you can borrow it if you like.’ That’s Suzy speaking. She’s in Swaziland with the US Peace Corps and has the most amazing hair – long, naturally blonde, it falls nearly … Continue reading

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Blind fury – a tale of failure from the bush (and possibly a parable for 2012)

Jim’s had a quadruple bypass, he’s in his mid 70s and lied about his age to get on the dig. A skilled engineer, he coaxes the ancient, paraffin-fuelled Coca Cola fridge back to life –for a day at least. Deanne … Continue reading

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Mr Sledge sings thrice & the Land Rover doesn’t turn into a pumpkin

‘When a ma-an loves a wom-an . . . ’ Percy’s warming up, the same song three times, the same lines three times, testing the sound system. Not sure we can stay till he does his thing for real because … Continue reading

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