My story about the Concorde

Posted on June 4, 2013 by Bo

It was during a marathon long study session with my 11 year old niece on the weekend that memories of my own childhood school years reared its head. How funny it is to think back at some of the preconceived ideas I had as a child and the ridiculous conclusions I came up with. One of those was that because of my upbringing, I would never know about certain things. Crazy, right?.

I can still remember sitting in class in primary school and listening to the other kids discussing something known as Concorde (the now retired supersonic airplane). I had never heard about such a plane and could not really participate in the conversation. The way they spoke about it had me on the edge of my seat. Why had I not heard of this marvelous thing? How come I was the only one that didn’t know what it was? What was wrong with me?

I remember being a bit irritated at my parents for not having told me about it. But my anger was geared more towards the fact that I didn’t know. I felt so stupid. I still to this day remember thinking that I can’t blame my parents for not telling me. When the hell would they have found the time?

My parents were divorced and my mom worked a lot of overtime to make extra money so we hardly saw her. On the weekends when we saw my dad, we never engaged in such deep conversations. I just concluded that kids like me were never meant to know stuff like that. It wasn’t part of my world. I mean think about it. A fancy, super fast plane that traveled to places such as New York and Paris. The furthest we had ever been was the Kruger Park with the caravan. In fact my dad had never even been in a plane before in his life (still hasn’t to this day!).

I hope the message I conveyed to my niece on the weekend is a very different one. I hope as she writes her exams, she remembers all the wonderful facts we chatted about. All the amazing topics we discussed. I hope she remembers the awesome pictures we found on Google of the Augrabies Falls and of the Drakensberg mountains and the Zulu huts and the insects…

But above all, I hope she remains curious and eager to never stop asking questions. Because in today’s world, knowledge is free to everyone!

Everyone has their own Comrades story to tell

Posted on May 12, 2013 by Bo

It always amuses me when I chat to (mostly) non-runners and they ask, “Oh, so do you run the Comrades marathon?” (Runners will know what I’m talking about.)

The ironic thing is that as the Comrades marathon draws closer, I might not be running it, but I still get *goosies* and feel the excitement building. It’s one of the highlights of the year for me.

I’m one of those types of people that wake up at 5am on the morning to watch the start of the race on TV. I migrate to the couch later in the day where I veg with strict instruction that no one is allowed to visit. I follow all the runners I know who are running, every step of the way.

I also confess to being one of those types of people that never miss the excruciating cut off guns. I scream and shout urging runners to hurry up and run faster. I’m a bag of nerves watching the hours count down and in that final 10 minutes, when that last bus of hundreds of runners enters that field, led by the legend, Vlam, I’m overwhelmed with emotion.

In my answer about whether or not I run the race, I do tell people that Comrades blood does actually run in my family. My dad ran the race in the 80’s. How fabulous is this old photograph! I’m so proud of my dad! (He’s the one with the black cap.)

My dad was running the race during the 80’s when Bruce Fordyce was the nation’s hero. I often see Bruce at the races now and wonder how such a tiny man could win such an enormous race 9 times!

I guess, in a way, most South Africans grew up with their own Comrades marathon memories – either as a runner, or a supporter or spending the holiday watching the race on TV. Radio DJ, Ironman and my running friend, Brad Brown (@bigbradbrown), is hoping to capture people’s memories of Comrades in a book. Go check it out at: http://www.mycomradesjourney.co.za/. Maybe you have a story you’d like to share!

21 days to go…. just 21 days! *gulp*

Memories of the other famous Madge

Posted on November 6, 2012 by Bo

November always reminds me of my Granny. Annie Magdalene Loots, otherwise known as Madge to her friends, Granny to me. Her birthday was on the 4th of November.

My Granny was a very knowledgable woman with strong opinions. She never made it to High School because she was forced to drop out and look after her family. In return, she was given the house she lived in until she passed away. Here’s her Std 5 class photo…

To this day, I am incredibly proud to tell people that both my Granny & Grandpa were captains in the Salvation Army. In fact, My Granny’s house was right next to the church in Bez-Valley. Here’s an old wedding photo of them, dressed in their Salvation Army uniforms…(yip, they wore black)

There are many days when I wish she was still alive and I could be sitting with her, drinking tea, munching on home-baked vanilla sponge cake around the big kitchen table.

I remember…

The 10am and 3pm tea times
The huge pink gown she used to wear after her baths
New Year’s eve when we stayed up late to watch ‘The Sound of Music’ together.
The trips to the Jo’burg Gen.
The weekly shopping at the butchery (I can still hear the meat being cut).
The spagbol on Saturday nights.
My Granny’s roast potatoes.
Rhubarb growing in the garden.
Lemon pudding with custard.
The Vespa.
The 3-Quarter bed my grandparents slept on.
Granny cutting up liver with scissors to feed the cats.
Cheese Naks hidden in the sideboard cupboard.
Never missing the News on TV.
Listening to stories of her sisters and Betsy Anne.
She only ate meat on Sundays (ahead of her time with meat-free Mondays).
She wore an apron every single day of her life.

My Granny was 84 when she died 11 years ago. Having been diagnosed with Mycenae Gravis when she was 12 years old, she never let it get her down. She was a woman with very strong values and would always speak her mind. I’d give anything to sit and listen to her stories, just one last time… I miss you Granny!

Not wanting kids is a lonely place to be

Posted on July 30, 2012 by Bo

As a 37-year old married women with no kids, I must admit that I don’t exactly know where I ‘belong’ in society these days. You see, one would have thought that as people have started to accept mixed racial couples and same sex relationships, so too would the idea that a woman who decides not to have children be okay. But it isn’t.

I still get the confused looks, the gasps and the disbelief. In fact, majority of people who know my decision will still tell me that I will change my mind in future and ‘I better hope it’s not too late.’

Women judge me and quiz me as if somewhere in my explanation they’ll find a loophole to my reasoning and try to convince me otherwise. I’ve been warned that I will have no one to take care of my when I’m old. I’ve been informed that when KK and I grow tired of one another, that we’ll have nothing in our lives to hold us together.

I’ve been told that I am missing out on the biggest blessing of life and that there will be no one to carry our family name in to the future.

But not many will tell me that it’s okay. Very few are able to tell me that it’s my decision and that there are loads of women like me who are fine not to have kids and who have never even wanted to have any.

I get insulted when people say that I have four-legged children instead. Um, no. I grew up with dogs, I love dogs but they are not a substitute. They are dogs. I get upset when people suggest I am concentrating on my career. Nope. It is just a job and I personally do not want to be the boss. I just don’t want children.

Do I hate children. No, why would I hate them?

The hard part is that I have lost many girfriends who have moved on into that phase of their lives and now have nothing in common with me anymore or perhaps who don’t know what to talk to me about anymore. It’s still me. Bron.

All around me, I am flooded with messages on TV, magazines, billboards and the media about what a ‘normal’ couple looks like.

And I guess that’s my point. I’m confused as to where exactly in society I fit. In my head and my heart, I know who I am and the decisions I’ve made.

But not everyone around me seems to get it.