And the reason for this topic is this… If you were to die today, what would your tombstone say? Terribly morbid isn’t it, but it’s a question I ask myself often. In fact I pose it to my colleagues too much to their disgust. But it is the one question that is really important to answer. Because it’s a reality check. It’s asking and answering whether you’re happy doing what you’re doing… right now. So here’s what mine would say… Here lies “coffee lover”. She lived and loved.

What I would like it to say is this: She lived and loved with passion. And those two little words at the end dear readers, is what makes all the difference. I am happy with what I’ve achieved thus far. I am content doing what I am doing. BUT I am missing the passion! The very essence that makes me me.

And that is why there has been no blog for four months. Because every time we commit our thoughts to writing we take a good, long look at the reflection of our soul.

Deep… but sweet.

It isn’t the physical toll that unsettles me… it’s the realisation that time is beginning to run out. The fact that I turn 39 in a few days scares me more than turning 40. I can’t quite fathom why but perhaps it has to do with it being the last year of the magical threes. I’d rather just hopscotch straight over it into the next phase.

And that led to yet another thought… The things I keep putting off till I have a little more time, or a little more money, or a little less responsibility may not actually happen. So after a little drowning of the sorrows in a delicious, yet wicked black liqueur that I will not be touching for another 20 years, I’ve decided that next year I will do at least one of the things on my bucket list.

So, if you happen to see an almost-40-yr-old woman riding hard and fast on an open road on the back of a beautiful black ninja or if you admire the breathtaking pics I post on FB of my trip to Ireland think of your bucket list and when you plan to tick the items as done:-)

So many children noticed that rainbow whilst all around them parents briskly got on with the business of the day. There’s something to be said for simply pausing… for a minute, for five to drink in what’s around you. Stop. Look. Smell. See. Hear. Feel. Touch. That’s all… just for a minute… just for five.

Am I crazy or is this a pretty normal thing to experience. Is it something that I long for because for one or other reason I like what I see or did I spend a past life in either place?

I don’t have specific plans or dreams as I believe in living in the now but I have a plan to visit England and Ireland when I’m 40 (or in my 40s) and spend as much time as I possibly can exploring the countryside. Perhaps therein lies my answer…
Better still have you similar experiences? I’d really love to know!

And here I was thinking I was doing just that. Then along comes an afternoon. Let’s call it Thursday afternoon, when you’ve had a bitch of a week, you’ve survived (as has your daughter) a mammoth set of numeracy Q&As, and you’re just about to start supper when all of a sudden you hear: “Moooooooooom, my sister won’t let me watch her play the Buzz Lightyear game!” And in quick succession little voice no. 2 says…. “But he’s copying me! He KNOWS I hate it when he copies me!!”

At this point all I want to do is roll my eyes, take a good long swig of wine, shape my thumbs and forefingers into a big W and say… whatever! Childish? I know!
Boundaries, boundaries, boundaries… what the hell. I don’t know about you but between my two I’ve lost count of the boundaries and the punishment that comes with the inevitable transgression! It just seems to get worse as they grow older, more opinionated, more sure of what they like, want, don’t like, don’t want.

Each day I say to myself “It’s not too late to go back to basics”. But I wonder if it is isn’t. Have I missed the boat? Lost the opportunity to instil some idea of what’s permissable and what isn’t? Did going back to work 5 or so months after my children were born contribute to this? There are a few questions that I don’t have the answers to. Yet, at the same time as I say all of this, I believe deeply that we’ll all get through this. That when my kids are older I can look upon them as their mother and say “you turned out just fine”:-) More than fine in fact… you turned out perfect:-)

The view from the cave is breathtaking and we took our time eating our lunch. At that point you can’t help but wonder what the landscape must have looked like to foreigners. I mean, we could make out the M3, Pollsmoor, Steenberg Estate, Blue Route Mall and – viewed through a good pair of binocs – our homes. Imagining tracts of untamed, untilled and undisturbed land made me realise just what spirit sea-faring adventurers from long ago must have had.

Caving is certainly not for the claustrophobic. Let me put it this way, some people pay a lot of money to re-enact the birthing experience in order to deal with some or other trauma in their lives. With caving, you get to do that for free. Aforementioned Primi brother exclaimed – after one particularly tricky exploration – that that was the tightest hole he’d ever been through!

What struck me most was two things really… one was the lack of life – only a few little cave crickets in most and some beautiful bats in the last – and the sheer, dark silence. Bliss.

If you’re not afraid of small dark places and you’re happy to hike an hour to get to the first cave which happened to be lower Alladin’s Cave, then give it a try. Just be sure to go with someone in the know, like a member of the Caving Society. I’m afraid I can’t remember the names of the all the caves (6 in all) but the last two were White Dome and Boomslang. The latter goes right through the mountain which is absolutely awesome!

The one hour hike back down does put pressure on the knees, but Geriatric’s home-made beer makes it all worth the pain:-)

PS: Leader of the pack showed us some cool geocaches too!