On Coming to Terms with Our Arseholery



Originally posted on The Disco Pants Blog :

sa flag 4
Nobody wants to think of themselves as being a bad person. Bad people are ISIS fighters, child molesters, Shrien Dewani. They do horrible things which are blatant and obvious and talked about in the media. But in the last few months I have found myself in spaces where I’ve had to take a long and careful look at who I am in the world, the attitudes that have formed me and how I conduct myself in certain situations. And to say that it’s been an uncomfortable awakening is an understatement. Because many of you who follow my blog know that I’m relatively outspoken about race issues in this country. I have strong feelings about the socio-economic disparities and the white attitudes that feed them, and while I sit behind my computer screen in my nice study on the Atlantic Seaboard it’s easy to wax lyrical about egalitarianism and the way…

View original 1,185 more words

The Ordinary Blogger

It’s more than a woman can take. The amount of information on the Internet is so overwhelming that I wonder: who on earth is waiting for me to waffle on about my diet, the environment or my, admittedly weird, philosophies? It’s the same non-ambitious (oh, all right then, LAZY) attitude that precluded me from doing anything much world-movingly heart-graspingly spectacular with my life: there were always more than enough musicians, books, artists, photographers in the world to make me feel extraneous to any Top 10 lists. A friend of mine has taken up photography. Like myself she is already in the shadier years. Her photo’s are beautiful and it gives me great pleasure to look at them. But sheesh, there are millions of people out there with HUGE camera’s, making gorgeous photo’s! I don’t have the motivation to go our there and add to them. Go to any book store and see the piles of books accepted by publishers, only to be rejected by readers. Why would I go and sweat it out for days, weeks, MONTHS maybe, to have trees cut down to print something that will then have to be pulped again? And although I love playing with clay and making things: have you SEEN how much clay China is using to make dinky little birds and things and whatsits??? I have never known if I should call it pragmatic, cowardly or just plain old sad:-). Not that I am sad. No way. I am just enjoying a spectacularly ordinary life, being a spectacularly ordinary wife, mother, grandmother and friend.  No boring. Not useless.  Just a human being of female gender of a certain age getting elderly in the 21st century.  Traditionally I should be keeping a diary. But, as I am of this day and age, I blog. Just be grateful I am so non-ambitious so it’s not too often I will confront you with me…

the Proof of the Pudding

It takes a while: I started reading about gluten and sugar-free last year, somewhere around October? So I went ‘sort of gluten-free light’. And sugar-free. Light because gee! I love my cakes. And chocolate. And cookies… Then in April I turned 60. I baked a gluten-free sponge cake and French loaf and asked the caterers to provide a gluten-free portion for my best friend and her daughter. After that I just went for it: all the way, no gluten-at-all, if I can’t have gluten-free I don’t want any. The green smoothie (European fruits and veggies) became a staple. After 2 months nothing much was happening other than enthusiasm for the new food-stuffs. The stomache still ached liked merry hell, the bowels still refused to bowel. But I am nothing if not a sucker for punishment. So I kept at it. Ignored the specialist’s instructions for a final desperate throw for a diagnosis through a really useless, stupid test. Threw out her medication. Read a bit more. Tweaked the diet a bit. And suddenly, 3 days ago, I knew I had done it. I bucked’ the’ system and I fixed my own. I am a self-healer. As a bonus I lost 6 kilo’s that weren’t in my way but didn’t add much good either. So here are the benefits I am seeing from a gluten-free, sugar-free diet:

  • My bowels, after 45 years of trouble, have started functioning without chemical help: No more bloating, no more constipation
  • My energy levels, since the 90’s when Fibromyalgia lifted its ugly head, have returned to almost normal.
  • Skin issues are clearing up
  • Fog in my head is clearing: concentration levels are up
  • Sinuses clearing up.
  • Weight issues melting away
  • Arthritis in hands dormant
  • One really AMAZING result: my internal thermometer is working better: like a true African living in Northern Europe I suffered from chronic “I’m so cold!”-ness. That is gone: I wear spaghetti strap shirts (not a pretty site but really comfortable!) and am in sync with most of the world, except that the heat doesn’t bother me!

So those are the measurable results. The happiness of not wondering just what my system is going to saddle me with today is immeasurable! The incredible lightness of being is on me.

I would love to stand on a stage and tell the world: lose the gluten! Give your gut a break! But I know I will irritate that same world. They really couldn’t give a flying fig about my system. Theirs is what counts. And if it means giving up all their goodies: they just don’t wanna know.

But I can tell you: they are the losers:-). My food is FABULOUS! I eat veggies and quinoa and millet and grain-fed meat. Not lots because man, is it expensive. So there are loads of home-roasted nuts and goat’s cheese and eggs there.

There is fish. oh boy, is there fish.ImageImageImageThere’s playing with food and machines….

Imagethere’s success and there’s disaster.Image

But above all, there is health. Good health. Natural health. And for the first time in my memory, I can forget about my bowels. How cool is that?

Cool or cruel?


There it is: another liter of home-made almond milk. Such a pity the kitchen looks like a bomb hit it and I needed a Sudanese villager’s annual water supply to make and clear up afterwards…

OK, so I’m not looking for the fountain of youth and I don’t want Life Everlasting. I just want to feel as good as I can while I can. And my NAILS are flaking DOLL!!!! So I need calcium. Then I find out my menopause ‘total’ meds don’t actually contain Calcium. Weird but true. Off I go to the Health Shop and I explain: I need a broad Spectrum of Vitamins and Minerals. I get a bottle of ‘good stuff for Seniors’. And the letter type is so small that not even the young salesperson can read it? I mean, how do I know if it will improve my eye-sight if CANT”T READ IT?!

Hello, is there anybody out there in production who actually uses their brain?  Shampoo for grey hair with minute little hieroglyphs that mean I have to wear my glasses under the shower! Oh, yeah, I dye my hair so it’s not grey but any other instructions these days require a magnifying glass. even the hair colouring instructions. It”s a miracle I’m the colour I am! So next time my hair is a funny colour (funny-peculiar or funny-haha) blame it on L’Oreal: I just can’t see the difference!


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.