Daughters are put on this earth to be loved – no matter what. I recall reading something alone these lines a long time ago. What the author failed to mention is that these same daughters can be a tad challenging at times when they do not get their own way. Then again, that is what makes them so special.
Weekends are times to reflect on the week just past and your successes and achievements. Ah, but that is before Tes arrives home on Friday afternoon in one of her argumentative moods. The cats run and hide under the bed while the dogs disappear into the far reaches of the garden not to be seen for the rest of the day.
The heavy oak front door bursts open and thumps loudly against the wall, allowing the cold winter sunlight to stream into the house. Tes glides through the entrance heading for her room, “Hey dad, you home yet?” can be heard from behind the now closed bedroom door. “University was terrible today. The lecturer did not arrive and the assignment he left us to do had a page missing”. “Worse still, it rained on the way home and I got wet”. Can you fix this for me?” “Who me? Of course not! Remember, men do not understand anything” and with feminism the flavour of the day I decide not to try. A quote borrowed from the movie Madagascar, “Just smile and wave boys, smile and wave” seems to be very appropriate.
I have learnt to walk on egg-shells when Tes is in in one of her moods. Is it the right approach? Definitely not, but sometimes it is the best approach. Do I understand her moods? Oh yes without a doubt. Any father that has raised a daughter on his own develops a very special bond with her and understands her in ways nobody else ever will. I know when she is happy or sad, when to leave her alone and pen an article like this or when to sit with her and let her cry on my shoulder.
Then along came dating and another new amazing yet concerning chapter begins in Tess’ life. The hormones are racing and dating is now the name of the game. Boyfriends come and boyfriends go (without my help of course). Some do not even get to the first date but who cares? Not me sir. The sooner they leave the happier I am.
I have a motto about dating that has served me well.
So, to all you wonderful parents out there, have fun raising your daughters. Even the bad days will be remembered fondly and your frustration will quickly be forgotten.
Today I reach out to the wonderful bloggers that I have met so far. Their individual styles are a constant inspiration for me. The diversity of the topics and the bloggers knowledge of the subjects they have chosen, encourages me to continue blogging as well. My blog is a little bit of many subjects and it is interesting to see that I am not the only blogger with this approach.
The assignment requires that I reach out to my neighbours. The five bloggers I have decided to list are as follows:
- Kitt O ‘Malley
Kit is an amazing person that has put her life on display via her blog. Her tagline, “love live and learn with bipolar disorder says it all.
Cheryl has a very diverse blog that always has something of interest to read. She has a very easy writing style that I like and is not afraid to say it as she sees it.
One of the really cool bloggers I have found. Go and read her article “What type of woman do you have” and you will see what I mean. An amazing sense of humour is included as well.
This man has taken some amazing pictures that are cleverly incorporated into each blog post he writes.
- Amanda Under Construction
Books, books and more books. This lady has more books than the central library. If I had the space my study would look the same.
There are so many more bloggers that deserve being mentioned. They too are amazing people.
Welcome to my blog and my first post in the Blogging 101 course. I am excited to be part of the blogging community and proud of the small steps I have taken so far. I admit that I find it challenging at times to write an article, and look at the blank screen with no idea what I will post for the day.
Today I have decided to lean on the daily prompt for inspiration.
Why blog publicly?
A good question, but the short answer is a simple one. I have never been one to keep a private journal. it does not appeal to me, and I will find every excuse under the sun to avoid it. Blogging publicly on the other hand is far more challenging and rewarding. People read my posts and comment on them and I get the opportunity to interact with all these wonderful bloggers.
This is a good question with a very broad answer. I write articles for my company’s website as well as my private blog. In the case of the company website, articles are very focussed on IT related issues. My private blog on the other hand, is a little cluttered and does not have a singular direction. Frankly, I am enjoying myself and just having fun; the focussed direction has taken a back seat and will come later.
Who to connect with?
Like minded people I guess. Anyone with a sense of humour that can see the funny side of a situation. I am not here to offload my worries and troubles. I will go and see a shrink if I ever need one. On a more serious note, there is always a time when laughter must be put aside and attention placed on pressing issues.
A year later?
Well, within the year I would like to have a more active blog and make friends with more of the blogging community. I am sure my goals will change during the year, but for now I want to blog and learn as much as I can.
Join me and have some fun and let’s see where we are in twelve months time.
The Boss! He turned my life upside down the day I joined the firm. A tall man with broad shoulders, wild red hair and piercing green eyes. Quick to anger, his booming voice is often heard lashing out at the unfortunate staff member who makes a mistake.
Demanding only the best in the shortest time possible from all his staff ensured that everyone stayed focussed all the time. There were no “bad hair days” or slacking off early on a Friday afternoon. No sir, not when the boss was around.
Well, that is what I thought. I soon learnt that he had a soft spot for the women, young or old. Don’t get me wrong, he was not a player. Actually he was happily married and had 3 children, a son and 2 daughters.
I had the good fortune of meeting the eldest daughter for the first time one afternoon on my way out of the office. She was walking towards the ground floor lifts when I spotted her.
Beautiful, stunning where the first words that sprung into my mind. I was in love, instantly and without a doubt. How is this possible? Until then I was a firm believer that love at first sight was a fallacy. How else could I explain my sudden emotional turmoil, other than to say it must be love.
She had on a long flowing green dress that clung to her supple young body and complimented the colour of her eyes. Moving with grace across the floor, the tips of her painted toes could be seen peeping out from under her dress with every step she took.
As she got closer her refined features became more apparent. Her fair skin complimented the colour of her hair and eyes. The dimple on the corner of her full lips may be seen as a flaw to some but to me, it was beautiful.
She caught my eye and smiled mischievously. “You must be Gordon” she said, as she came to a stop in front of me. “And you are Carol, I assume”? She smiled and nodded her head. “I have been dying to meet you” we both blurted out and then stopped, and started laughing like two old friends.
A woman brushes past me as she dashes to board the last train to Cape Town. In her haste she drops a letter and I watch as it drifts slowly to the ground at my feet. Without hesitating I stoop and pick it up before rushing after her.
Too late! The train doors hiss close and I watch in dismay as it accelerates out of the station. I turn away from the edge of the station and walk back to the bench where I left my luggage, letter in hand.
Seated once again, I examine the letter hoping to find an address I can return it to. The outside of the old envelope is blank so I gently remove the single sheet of paper from the open end. The paper is delicate and has a soft feminine fragrance.
There is a short scribbled message in the centre of the page.
Mom, help me please! I am in serious trouble, and need you here. Paul is missing and the police are not taking me seriously.
You warned me that this may happen, but I did not listen. I have moved in with Mrs Smith because it is no longer safe at home.
Please hurry mom, I think Paul is dead…
Walking down the familiar cobbled street to the quaint coffee shop were we first met, still brings tears to my eyes. It has been over a year since the tragic accident, yet it still seems like yesterday.
Our first meeting was by chance, when I dashed in there one night to get out of the cold, pouring rain. On entering the coffee shop I spotted an empty table near the fire. Without checking that it may be occupied I made my way over to it, and dropped my weary frame into one of the over-stuffed comfortable chairs.
The room was warm and snug. The roar of the fire was a pleasant change from the organised chaos on the city roads outside. Old stagecoach lamps hung from the walls, throwing pools of dim light over the tables. Large oil paintings of winter scenes in old London adorned the walls, like windows into the past.
My exhaustion caught up with me and I fell asleep in this warm and comfortable environment. I woke slowly to the gentle touch of your hand. Opening my eyes I saw your radiant smile for the very first time. You were sitting in the chair opposite me. Only then did I see your handbag on the table and realised that I was an uninvited guest at your table.
Apologising for the intrusion I stood up and looked around for another empty table. You just smiled, touched my hand briefly, and asked me to sit down and share your table. I looked down at this beautiful young woman, smiled and sat down immediately. The rented video I planned to watch that evening, suddenly became unimportant.
We sat next to the fire until the early morning hours talking and laughing like old friends. This was a dream come true for both of us. It was as if fate had guided us to the coffee shop. Little did we suspect the heartache that lay ahead for both of us.
This chance meeting changed both our lives forever.