Rekindling old loves

This grotty old table was close to its final moments. Firewood was on the cards. A dismal farewell for a piece of wood that has fared us pretty well over the years. The memories are etched into its simple grain. It’s held more homework books and pencil shavings than I can even begin to recall. It’s shared numerous birthday cakes, Sunday roasts and candle-lit dinners. It has survived callous abuse of craft knives, cheap kids’ paints and muddy cat paws. Within its corners and underside it has generous reserves of last Christmas’ lunch (don’t ask, please). And if you look carefully you’ll find cemented smears of tomato sauce. Plus eye out the legs and you’ll discover a discreet collection of kids’ artwork.

So its end was near, but I couldn’t find a suitable replacement. I wasn’t keen on a brand new table, its replacement needed to have some character, a few stories to tell – some past abuse. Finding this ideal table was an elusive search for the Holy Grail. It didn’t exist. But then one day I realised it did, and it was just a coat of paint and some elbow grease away from me. So, that’s the story of this table.

primer

Restoring the table wasn’t a one-day job. It took several days. Step one: sand, sand like hell. You’re still vibrating an hour afterwards. Once sanded, prime it. We only painted the sides and the legs. Leave to dry for 650 hours. Once the primer had thoroughly dried we painted on three coats of Dulux Overtly Olive. The photos don’t show the true colour, but in straight-talking English Overtly Olive is paint shop jargon for ‘pale green’ or ‘Sage’, to be slightly more descriptive. It’s not Olive green per se. The top of the table was varnished with a brush-on satin teak stain.

top coats

You like it? I can’t believe it’s the same table. Cat and kids are required to shift around the table with absolute caution. Ketchup is off the shopping list. Christmas lunch will be served from the coffee table this year. Yes, we all know this will last until next week. But let’s momentarily savour the start of a new beginning. Well, sort of.

job done

One giraffe and an elephant, please

In a not too distant life when I was working for a local newspaper I met a Zimbabwean craftsman who carved impressively large animal artworks out of solid wood. I discovered him and his wooden zoo on the roadside. Hawking on the pavements is the norm in South Africa. You can buy anything from plastic clothes hangers and Calvin Klein underpants to rustic diningroom tables and illegal homemade Zulu beer on a routine drive to and from work.

But this craftsman was a newbie to the sidewalk. His large polished wooden animals herded along the roadside were sculpted with real skill. I asked him about a giraffe and an elephant, both created from a mix of light and dark woods and impeccable detail that highlighted folds in the flesh and contours of the eyes.

He shook his head and said they were all already purchased and just waiting to be collected. My disappointment must have shown because he pulled a two inch pencil from behind his ear and a small torn paper from his pocket.  ‘Give me your name and telephone number,” he said, ‘I phone you when I’m back here with another giraffe and elephant.’

He said he was travelling back to Zimbabwe and would be back in SA soon with more wooden animals. I gave my details, thinking nothing would come of it. A few months passed and my phone rang. The conversation went something like this:

‘Hello, I got your giraffe and elephant.’ ‘

‘Excuse me?’

‘You want giraffe and elephant? I got for you. You come collect?’

When you work as a journalist anything is possible and the surreal very often becomes the real.

‘Yes, okay that’s right. Of course, the giraffe and elephant, lovely. Thanks.’

‘You come to fetch these giraffe and elephant today?’

‘Sure, but how am I going to collect a giraffe and elephant? My car’s too small. Why don’t you deliver them to me?’ I forced a courteous laugh.

‘But you want giraffe and elephant, you must come fetch. When you come?’

‘I cannot collect them, they won’t fit in my car. Can you deliver them for me?’

‘They fit in your car, both giraffe and elephant yes they fit in your car. You come today? I have them for you.’

This was going nowhere. I put the phone down. An African man offering me a giraffe and elephant? Only a handful of cows would suffice a traditional African marriage.

Minutes later I realised my mistake. I never saw him again.

Wherever you are, Zimbabwean crafter, please accept my apologies. If only we’d spoken the same language.

Oscar in the games

My guess is that it was Col Olympic outside the lavatory with the gun, the cricket bat and the prosthetics – armed with a bucket-load of rage, zero balls and the freedom of choice. In less than five months Col Olympic went from global race-track phenomenon to murderer; destroying a status that took almost a lifetime to build in the time it takes to comprehend one sentence: ‘Oscar Pistorius has been charged with murdering his girlfriend’.

So the jury’s out. Did he mistake his girlfriend for an intruder? If so did he forget she was spending the night? I sometimes wake up and have no clue what day it is. Memory often fails me during the day, I wouldn’t be surprised if it makes a full escape each night. So it was dark; he couldn’t see that his girlfriend wasn’t in bed. Fine, but come on, would you be able to leg it across your bedroom, open a balcony door, retrieve a fan (electric plug, cord and all), and then make it back into your bed in 100% darkness – with no legs? I’d be battered, bruised and tooth-befallen before even reaching the balcony door. Let’s move on. Okay, it was dark, he cleverly hauled in the fan from the balcony, assumed his girlfriend was asleep in his bed. Or forgot about her altogether, we’re still figuring that out.

He heard a noise from the bathroom and recalled a possible entry point for intruders. He shouted out before grabbing his gun from beneath his bed. Why didn’t his girlfriend – now in the bathroom as we know – respond to his initial shout during the time it took him to get from the bedroom to the bathroom door and fire four shots? Why did she lock the bathroom door? Do you lock yours during the wee hours when you need the loo? Maybe I would if I wanted absolute quiet time to play Sudoku. Then, why force the bathroom door open without first calling the police? If you suspect an intruder has broken in, and followed it up with a flurry of bullets, would you break the door down to face the gruesome scene – alone? What if the intruder dodged the bullets and hid out in the shower or bath? You open that door without knowing what lies behind it, really? Or maybe it’s easier to bash down the door knowing the carnage that lies hopelessly behind it.

So friends, this is why I place Col Olympic outside the lavatory with the gun, the cricket bat and the prosthetics – and the bucket-load of rage, zero balls and the freedom of choice. I doubt it’s brave Col Mustard defending sleeping Miss Scarlett with the candlestick in the pitch black drawing-room.

 

homemade peppermint hot choc

My inner Grinch is gradually reawakening. It poked me in the eye earlier today and whispered obscenities in my ear. Christmas shopping is a painful experience. I must have seen more than 100 souls dragging slaughtered fir trees around the nursery this morning. Lumberjacks in disguise, all wearing faces as taut as granny’s curls. Tis’ the season to be jolly. Please pass the mulled wine?

I digress. I’d like to share this gorgeous peppermint hot chocolate recipe with you. We’ll be making several jars of these for teachers’ gifts this year. What I love about this is that it’s a handmade gift. Nothing beats that, don’t you think?

It takes about 20 minutes to layer the ingredients. I haven’t given precise measurements as you’ll need to decide amounts according to the size of your jar. Each ingredient is layered, here’s what you need:

* Soft brown sugar, about a quarter of a cup (for a standard size jar)
* A dash of cinnamon and nutmeg
* Chocolate chips, dark and milk chocolate, about half a cup
* Good quality cocoa powder, about a third of a cup
* Good quality hot chocolate power, about a third of a cup
* Mini marshmallows, quarter of a cup
* A couple of peppermint candy canes, crushed

Start by mixing the sugar and spices and then carefully pour it into a clean glass jar. Make sure it’s level and then pour in a layer of dark and then milk chocolate chips. Keep it level. Mix the cocoa and hot chocolate powders and then slowly pour into the jar. Add the marshmallows and then top up with the crushed peppermint candy canes. Leave a little space at the top… but don’t shake the jar if you’re giving it as a gift!

To make this delicious drink the jar will need a good shake, then add two heaped tablespoons of the mixture into hot milk. You can write this out on a tag and tie it around the top of the jar with a ribbon and garden twine – or even butchers’ twine.

Enjoy!