I have finally decided to start my own blog.  It took so long, because although I am generally an 'early adapter' (bell curve) I also resent hopping on every band-wagon with too many passengers.  For instance, I must have been the last cow to own a cell phone!  I just did not want to receive a call while purchasing milk and cell-phones looked to me like remote controls, except I was the one being 'controlled'.  (Another thing I resent - actually not 'resent' - just simply wont tolerate) I simply will not hit 'share' or 're-post' when told to.  NEVER! Never ever!  I smell out manipulation from a mile and I am Salesman-Bane!

I now have a phone and I love it for playing 'word mole' but it still freaks me out when someone says in that whiny, accusatory and wounded tone: I tried to get hold of you on your phone, but couldn't (and then the unspoken implication: "...which is why we are no longer friends/the deal is off/I wiped you out of my little Black Book of Life!!)  Truth is there is one single missed call with no message left as the only evidence of this desperate search for me, the failure of which having resulted in the deduction that cruel rejection is the only explanation.  ("I was in the loo", or "I was in a meeting/with my family at the dining table/fast asleep on account of 'the call came in at 5h50'/God-forbid making hanky-panky with my husband" all just too plausible to be true.  No, my failure to answer your call MUST mean that I am the mean-spirited incarnation of Rejection Evil, and that, after having seemed so warm, friendly and accommodating at first.

Oh I see I am going to do a lot of ranting on this blog of mine.  Well, I am not anticipating anyone actually reading my blog, so I guess it is a better way to vent than those darn direct emails that have gotten me into so much poop thus far.  Yes, yes, poop.  There might also be the occasional 'Scheisse' or my favourite of all Afrikaans words 'kak' on this blog.  My mom was a wonderful, hospitable lady who loved Jesus with all her heart and left an amazing legacy of faith and poise... yet she said 'kak'.  She always used it in a 3 word phrase "Ag kak man".  Translated:  "I strongly disagree with that statement and believe from the bottom of my heart that it is based at best, on a shaky premise."  or simply:  Ag kak man.  

The Germans use the word Scheisse very loosely (no pun intended) and it seemed to me that it is a socially acceptable word: Gold aus Scheisse.  Translated:  I am expected to produce something worthwhile (gold) from inferior/inadequate raw materials/resources (poop).  And when the socially acceptable word 'Scheisse' is not enough then the stronger 'Kacke' seem to fill the gap.  I also like 'Kacke'.  And the way it is used in some German dialects to sound like 'Gacke' - example "Voll auf d' Gacke gehauen"  Direct translation: "Hit right on the poop" and translation of meaning:  "Fell down/missed it badly/came upon a sudden and unexpected negative outcome."

My introduction into the German use of the word "Scheisse" came ironically in the form a translation of a German story, told by a German Pastor driving 220 km/h on the autobahn in a Mercedes.  He used the English word "Sheet" for shit (which is still a word that I find harder to use than kak/gacke/sheisse).  The story goes like this:

A cat once chased a mouse into a barn.  The mouse ran to a cow and asked her to quickly 'sheet' on him.  The cow did and when the cat came in, found the tail of the mouse sticking out of the 'sheet'.  The cat pulled the mouse out and ate him.  The moral of the story is:  Not everyone who 'sheets' on you is your enemy and not everyone pulling you out of the 'sheet' is your friend.  Words to live by.

We, fresh from South Africa, shook slightly on the inside, every-time he said 'sheet', but as the years went by, a deterioration if you will, of speech took place that we did not even notice, until we returned to South Africa and picked up on that same slight inner shaking by our audience, when we said similar words.  I now find that although I sometimes feel the need to reign in on the toilet-language, I actually dont understand what the big deal is.  What better substance to liken unwanted situations to?  You know.  Substance.  We like to give substance to what we say.  Here is an opportunity to literally give substance to what we are saying and yet it is frowned upon in finer circles.  Ask my good friend Ds. Jaco Strydom!  (Die Vloek Dominee.  Translation:  The Swearing Reverent) whom I find stellar by the way, in every way!!!

My husband feels that I should not write like this.  For the record.  Perhaps he feels that I am going to get into... trouble.