Third last day of the school holiday

It's the third last day of our school holiday, and I'm starting to feel a little sad. Completely normal. It's a grey, overcast day - beautiful in its own way. Some of our best lessons come from nature. Maybe the lesson is that, whether it's school time or holiday time, there's always beauty to be found. 

Looking back on this three-week break, I feel a sense of peace, because I was true to myself. I enjoyed a lot of solo time, I socialised more than usual, I did housework, and I even tackled some of my school tasks. Earlier this week, I went to school, where a colleague and I did a few hours of planning. 

The enjoyable social things were going to the theatre with my daughter (Sondheim's 'A Little Night Music'), walking with my son and his dog, spending time with an ex-colleague from 30 years ago, going yarn shopping with my two wool-nerd friends, and having one-on-one lunches with a few good friends. A few days ago, I went out for lunch with my sister and two cousins. It was a first, as we normally see each other at bigger family gatherings, and it was really nice. We chatted for hours. Children of three sisters (now deceased), and having been in each other's lives fairly consistently, we had a lot to talk - and laugh - about. 

On the creative side, I've been knitting children's beanies (for our school project), playing my guitar and singing, and trying a few recipes. I've also done a lot of journalling, which is one of my favourite pastimes.   

I've been doing a lot of thinking about my job, and about jobs in general. I had been unemployed for three months when I was told about this teaching post, and encouraged to apply. I'll be honest - it had not been on my agenda to return to teaching at a high school. My previous job, which I'd absolutely loved, had been a part-time job, teaching matric English to adults. However, we suffered unfair treatment by top management, were not paid for six months, and the entire programme (VERY valuable in our country!) was shut down. (NB: Three years later, we've not been paid yet!) 

So, while returning to full-time teaching in the high school sector had not been Plan A, neither was remaining unemployed. I'd been unable to meet my commitments for a few months, and my debt was increasing. What I needed most was financial stability, to sort out my life. Almost three years later, I'm totally immersed in full-time teaching, with all its highs and lows. I've spent some time journalling through the pros and cons of the job, which has helped me gain a healthy perspective on things.

Two other job-related thoughts: Firstly, I don't know when last I've met anyone who's told me she loves her job. My conclusion is that most people don't love - or even like - their jobs. That's sad.  And secondly, I've realised that you should never take a big, job-related risk based on someone else's having done so. Especially when you don't know much about their new reality. Also, everyone's different. Maybe Person A leaves a job and starts a new business, but person B might want less responsibility, and be okay with sorting books in a library, a few days a week. Maybe Person C exits her job with a healthy pension saved up, but Person D might have absolutely nothing.

The topic of people working beyond retirement age, out of necessity, has been popping up in different spaces, and it seems to be a global issue. Life is constantly becoming more expensive, and even those who saved diligently find themselves struggling. I don't know much about government old age pension in other countries, but it's really small in ours: a monthly amount of R2,400 per person.  (You're allowed to work, but may not earn more than about R9,000.) As bleak as this figure sounds, things have changed. Under apartheid, in the 1980s, a white person's pension was about TEN TIMES that of a black person. By the mid-1990s, the Social Security Act of 1992 had brought about pension equality for all senior citizens. As far as I understand, there were similar changes in other areas, like disability grants.  So to those people who say things were better under apartheid, you were clearly on the privileged side of things.  

I'm tired of writing. I slept late, had a leisurely breakfast (I love lazy, tasty breakfasts at home), and it's about midday. I have a few things I want to achieve, so I should start now. 

Today is Nelson Mandela International Day - the anniversary of Nelson Mandela's birthday.  Annually, South Africans, as well as people all over the world, are encouraged to do something, for 67 minutes, to benefit someone else. I'm not joining any gatherings today, as I'm in full, unapologetic hermit mode, so my intention is to crochet a small teddy bear, for which I'll find a recipient. 

     2024, two halves of a crocheted teddy bear, before the assembly. (Pink knitting, a separate item.)

The Lesson of the Magic Ball

One week into our three-week school holiday, and I'm in a good space. Even though it's winter, today is a beautiful sunny day. It's still quite crisp, but nevertheless lovely. I've done a lot of unwinding on my own, spent time with some friends, and started tackling items on my To-Do lists. 

It occurred to me recently, after seeing Facebook posts about Northern Hemisphere schools being on their three-month break, that our longest school holiday was only one month long, making this mid-year break just one week shorter. Also, it's really strange that our school year starts when it does, in mid-January, because we experience our hottest weather then, continuing well into February. What's really crazy is that all our school athletics activities take place in that January-February period. 

Anyway, I'm on holiday and in full-on relax mode. Yes, I have household chores to do (spreading them out over the first two weeks) and quite a bit of schoolwork (doing this over the three weeks, for my sanity), but I'm prioritising things that I actually enjoy doing, including sleeping as late as possible. 

Our school's Stitch Club is doing a winter warmers project, making caps, scarves and mittens for children in need. We've extended the invitation to the broader school community, and look forward to having a nice yield of knitted and crocheted items to hand over to places where children are cared for. On Tuesday 7 July, we're gathering in our school hall to knit and crochet as a collective, and enjoy a cup of tea or coffee and some snacks. I think it's going to be really cool. 

With this as a goal, I've been doing quite a bit of knitting, and have completed five caps for little people. I've also crocheted two, but the sizes are a bit strange, so I'm not sure if they qualify. :-) 

As I continue to learn more about myself, I find it helpful to tune in to what everyday life can teach me. I've realised that, instead of owning and embracing what makes me who I am, I've spent a large part of my life either ignoring my preferences, making excuses for them, or feeling the need to hide them, because someone in my close circle has expressed a dislike or disdain for them.  

Sometimes what I've learnt has surprised me. One of those things is that I love splashes of bright colour. Anyone who sees me regularly knows that I wear fairly boring clothes, usually in solid, background-type colours. I avoid patterns and any kind of attention-grabbing styles. Actually, that couldn't be further from who I am! Currently, though, the most adventurous I am, with my wardrobe, is in the scarves I wear. This needs to change. 

What I've now fully embraced in my crafting is that I prefer working on items where the colours change frequently. It keeps me interested, it eliminates boredom, and I'm always happy with the results.  With this in mind, I decided to take my existing yarn stash and create some magic balls, with which I'd make the kiddies' caps. A magic ball is basically something people make, to use up odd bits of leftover yarn: you take each leftover bit and tie it to another, in a way that is barely visible and also very durable, creating a new, multi-coloured ball. You then knit or crochet with your magic ball, creating something that is a bit of a surprise in its colour effect. 

                                     The first kiddie cap, with the first magic ball. 

I loved the result so much, that I just kept on doing the same thing. I've made five knitted ones so far, each with a unique result, and my sixth one's on the needles at the moment, with magic ball No. 2.

Because I'm somewhat philosophical (and love a good metaphor), I've decided to call this experience The Lesson of the Magic Ball. I chose the colours, I decided which pattern to use, I put the time and effort into creating the item, and what was the result, each time? A finished product that I absolutely loved, that made me happy, that I know will achieve the desired result (keeping a little child warm), and that I want to keep making. I've learnt (all over again) that when I'm true to myself, when I'm intentional, and when I use my decision-making power to do something that intuitively feels right, I succeed.   

When I return to school for Term 3, I should remember The Lesson of the Magic Ball. 😉

 

Drafted on 5 April (incl. notes to myself)

Today is Day 9 of my 11-day school holiday. This has been the strangest holiday in a long time. But let me go back a bit.

Without fail, the last few weeks of every term are the most stressful for me. For two to three weeks, my main activity is marking. I wish I could tell you all the things that make it so stressful, but I can't. It's a whole lot more than the hours and hours spent sitting and marking over 240 kids' handwritten scripts. It's everything that precedes it, that surrounds it, and it's completely out of my control. Let's just say it's partly systemic.

So, I went through a stressful few weeks, and I wondered what my body would do, once the stress was over. Because it was inevitable. There's no way you can experience that much stress, for weeks, and emerge intact. The night before the end of term, I realised I'd caught a tummy bug. A couple of colleagues had had it, as well as some kids, and now, with my weakened immune system, it was my turn. Terrible timing, because I needed to take a two-and-a-half-hour drive soon after that.       

Somehow I got through the last day of school, bought some over-the-counter meds for the next few days, packed my things for the weekend, and early the Saturday morning, I headed for the N1 freeway, where I'd arranged to meet up with a friend, and take the long road to McGregor.

The McGregor experience deserves a post of its own, but I'll squeeze in the main things here, for now. I drove behind my friend, all the way to McGregor. It was a beautiful drive, the weather was spectacular, and I was thankful that I had a reliable car, with aircon.  I actually enjoy solitude, so I found the drive peaceful and inspiring. The further I drove from Cape Town, the more I felt myself relaxing. I started to feel the old Trudy returning. 

When we got to McGregor, a quaint little inland town to which my friend had relocated two years ago, we made a quick stop at a magical shop that sold scarves and other wonderful things. Then we went to meet the person who had hired me for the restaurant gig, and I felt completely welcome and at peace. I could feel myself exhaling, and started to see why my friend liked the town so much.    

I was shown my accommodation (The Bean Tree - soooo beautiful!!), where I dropped off my overnight bags. Then I was taken to the restaurant where I was going to sing that night. It's in the town's main street (Voortrekker?), and it's called Tebaldi's. Named after the great soprano Renata Tebaldi, this opera-themed restaurant is part of the Temenos boutique resort, and is an absolute delight to the senses. 

                                          My gorgeous, super-comfy room at The Bean Tree.  

I set up my equipment, with two of the staff helping me sort out some technical issues (I ended up using the venue's speakers!), did a soundcheck, then went back to my lovely accommodation to get ready.  

When I got to the restaurant, the staff were setting up, and the place was filled with the sounds of  Renata Tebaldi, singing arias my mother had sung throughout her opera career. I had such a huge lump in my throat! My own set-up was between posters of La Traviata and La Boheme, both operas in which my mom had sung. I felt my mother's presence strongly throughout the evening. It was like when she'd go with me to my weekly restaurant gig (between 2015 and 2020), and she'd smile and say, "Nice, Trudes", after every song. So precious! 

The evening went well, with a delicious dinner, in a beautiful setting, and a warm atmosphere created by the hosts, the staff and the diners. I did mainly covers, and added a few of my originals. Interestingly, the organisers liked the originals more. (I could write many blog posts about why I think people respond better to my originals.) I think both the organisers and I would do things a little differently, in future. 

I still wish I could've done the gig in a duo, but the elements weren't favourable, this time.   

ADD MORE HERE

The next day, my tummy problems were back. I was very worried about the long drive home, but It ended up being another lovely drive, and I got home safely. 

Once home, however, it was a different story. I unpacked my car - my overnight bags and my music equipment - then gave in to my exhaustion, and lay down without unpacking my bags. I texted a few people, then fell asleep, eventually waking up at 3am. For the next few days, I was really sick. The virus knocked me out, and I managed to find enough energy only to take care of myself. I kept taking the pharmacy meds I'd bought before my trip, and modified my diet. Eventually on Thursday, almost a week into 11-day holiday, I went to the doctor. Almost R2,000 later, I'd had a consultation and bought prescription meds. 

I'LL WRITE ABOUT THE MIXED BLESSING OF BEING SICK DURING A SCHOOL HOLIDAY - I COULD SLEEP WHENEVER I WANTED TO, BUT COULDN'T TACKLE MOST OF THE WORK ON MY HOLIDAY TO-DO LISTS FOR SCHOOL AND HOME. 

AND I MISSED TASTY FOOD!!!! AND ENERGY TO DO EVERYDAY THINGS. AND WALKING IN NATURE!!

WHAT'S THE LESSON?