The Harris 2021#Howzit

It seems a bit ridiculous writing the annual letter when it’s barely past October, but time & the postal service wait for no man! What a cracker of a year this has been. Covid-19 continued to take our breath away. Sh*t, who would ever have thought we would live through a pandemic?  Thousands of scientists, real people in real laboratories with real (not bought) degrees & years of experience), all around the world, spent millions of man hours rolling out a vaccine. And who knew that there were that many idiots in the world? I don’t know what’s in it/it’s the mark of the devil/it’s governments tracking our every move – well Ernie, who’s watching my monitor must be bored sh*tless. The images of pyre after burning pyre coming out of India were almost unbelievable. Rhino’s continue to be poached, meanwhile, plastic & climate change are taking over the world. At least Elon Musk has his own rocketark & I’m very proud to say he comes from Mzanzi! There has been taxi violence. Taxi bosses stopped commuters from using public transport. Potholes get bigger. We have had rain, lots but, in Africa we never complain, because drought is but a whisker away. An ex-president was locked up & his supporters were a bit disgruntled & decided to protest but then the pawpaw hit the fan & there was fruit salad everywhere. The rioters blocked all the roads, set flatbed trucks alight & looted EVERYTHING – washing machines & fridges that couldn’t fit through their front doors. Who was going to buy these large items anyway?  The police ran out of ammunition. They ran out of everything – no vans, no petrol, no officers, no water cannons. They just stood & watched. And where was the army? It looked like the apocalypse! We were scared sh*tless. I seem to be using that word a lot but it really was a sh*tshow of note. And while this was happening, those that chose greener shores, cried and prayed. The old man has undergone a few name changes from Les, to Chucky to Chunky – also ‘Mr. Wobbly Man’ after all the serious & very bad falls but we thought that ‘Big Ears’ was more appropriate. It was time to model his new birthday underwear, as in Paris Fashion Week style, trying to walk in a straight line & claiming he was still a stud. Stacey & I disavowed him of this ludicrous idea & changed it to dud, even better, Granddud! But seriously, what a keeper he is. My mother always said we’d never stay together. (Ha!) Sh*t! He shops and chats, usually about football – he’s gone for hours! Tiger is all set to call out “Chicago Fire. He has joined that most famous ‘70’s club! He did it in style with a snowball & one candle. For those who don’t know, this is a small round cake covered in bright pink icing & coated in coconut. Pottery totters along & his vegetables grow, which we need because I’m tired of trying to find money under furniture. The tentative suggestion of M.S.A. – MULTIPLE SYSTEM ATROPHY, a rare neurodegenerative disease, causing autonomic dysfunction is devastating, but we’ll get through it, the 3 of us. Stacey played dress-up this year for school – she went as a Viking from How To Train Your Dragon, for fave book day, Professor von Poopypants for Careers Day & wore a school uniform with all the other teachers, just because. Her Grade 2 class were treated to real kite flying, making & eating candy floss in class & continue to astound with their comments & witticisms’ while doing the most amazing art & projects that included building bridges & castles. Still the only white girl in the ubiquitous white taxis in KZN. The aftercare has been spectacular & Chucky taught them how to gamble, using stones, Tiger made them #pizzatoast & showed them how to eat a chip (crisps) sandwich. Our immeasurably magical daughter Stacey, has shopped, borrowed money when we didn’t have any, driven us around, been worried sick by all the things that are wrong with us, has kept the peace on a daily basis – (she’ll be able to join the Peace Corps soon – she did her training at home), she braai’s like a professional but cooking in the kitchen – not so much. During the” troubles” it wasn’t the bottle stores being closed that was a bother, it was nails for her coffin.  The underground #blackmarket had her reading strange descriptions of awful tobacco, but, SH*t, when needs must.  Stacey who has to say everything 3 times – one deaf person was enough, but two!?! Sh*t!! Tigger & Vinny Jones died but we still have 3 dogs & 30 cats & some lovely orchids. We laugh. A lot. And swear. A lot. Princess reigns supreme – best housekeeper EVER. Marilyn Anne, otherwise known as Tiger, like a spoilt & naughty child, refuses to wear her hearing aids & with the family gene of bad teeth, hers are vrot. So she was deaf & almost toothless but then her adorable dentist set her up with new teeth that have her looking spectacular. However she whistles & lisps when she speaks! A hidden plot to silence the old bat perhaps?  Sh*t! She also refuses to stop swearing, being argumentative & she likes nothing better than to embarrass unsuspecting strangers. For Halloween this year, she’s just going to take her teeth out, paint her face green & scare the children with her grossly deformed hands & feet. She joined a writers club, entered a short story competition & won – money –good times. Her “Book of the Dead” is a joy to behold. The house is falling apart – then the oven stopped working, there was a bang & the whole stove stopped working & then the microwave died & so did the sewing machine. I swear appliances talk to each other.  We still managed to see good friends.  We have an active volunteer neighbourhood watch & an excellent security company -crime is rife in town & the estate is still not secure. Heads up to Spry Financial Services, the dentist, vet, and bestie Susan, specialists, pharmacist and their phenomenal staff members, all our magical friends too. There were deaths, so shocking we’re still reeling.  If Covid-19 taught us anything, it’s get your will drawn up, talk about what has to happen once you shuffle off this mortal coil & tell those around you, that you love them because it’s always too soon until it’s too late. I’ve learned to enjoy the small things, good books, blogs, flowers, sunrises, strange clouds, (mind you, those may just be from puffing on the green stuff), butterflies & Facebook posts. So I say drink the gin, eat the cake, love the ones you’re with & find small things to enjoy amongst all this turmoil. Best wishes for a stupendous Christmas & much love and money in 2022.

Les, Marilyn XxX and Stacey.