Obligatory "ignore this space" : https://sacoronavirus.co.za

Jostling my memory I recall a spider bite that I thought I better get checked by a doctor. The doctor seemed to be unconcerned but a friend warned me that those who study spiders see effects as those which take longer than doctors are wont to keep a patient under observation.

At the time I wore the kind of sandals that don't require one to hold onto them with the toes. I understood these were of local manufacture. But outsourcing was touted as the clever way of doing business, and I became an outsourced consultant without trying at all.

It was still a man's world: that is, girls got hired to sit and look pretty by the friends of their fathers. Not to say there weren't the likes of Kate Nickleby. In fact, the style of firm she found employment at seemed the most prevalent. It is to be noted that in a country which doesn't require one to be registered with the state, because the christening of children is a rite that belongs to the church, the changing of one's name is as easy as thinking of a new one. Dickens, it seems, was bitten by a spider himself. Dora Spenlow, it seems, was a matter of reviving old memories. His Agnes Wickfield knew the part she needed to play. But when a nation has decided by majority vote to go in for fantasy so as to avoid the debate about the existence of fairies, they become the worst kind of revisionists, and the works of those who sought to weed out corruption are an open door to the pointing of fingers at the nation for such proof of corruption, when the nation was an empire.

To consider the existence of fairies you must first tear up your bible. Mine I consider a keepsake for being an article of quality. I've read it through. It contains much good advice, but little or none that I haven't received elsewhere.

It does seem that people began to see Dickens' characters in the places in which he placed them. But with photography came spirit photography. And to call that a fraud is much of a kind of asserting that fairies don't exist. It's much of a kind with getting a boy to state that he'll never get married.

Parents, one would think, would look to the future of the land. But it's too easy to get caught by flights of fancy in which their children emigrate elsewhere when their schooling is done. It's easy for such parents to look at those of my generation who were encouraged to leave by their parents as having been instances of the same trend. Having to watch his daughter sit and look pretty for a year or two, with the fears that a father must have of what may happen to her, is somewhat different to raising children who say to all and sundry that the country is fucked.

I agree that there is value in calling some people souties. But to judge me because of my accent, you're asserting yourself as belonging to a nation of poorly farmers. Though it distressed me, and I started to lose my self-respect, having had war made on me and my kind by the creatures who promote themselves as knowing the best how to look after their men, it was for me to use the tools I have to look for the causes of the war in this country; for it had been settled to everyone's satisfaction before the Union of South Africa was declared.

And we might just as well say that the spiders are to blame. Adventurers must expect hardship. To walk barefoot over the mountains and then complain about it, is to complain about the people who thought it was a good idea: a better one than living amongst the English and under their law, that is. Excessive tolerance to the natives was a failing by many in positions of power. But it doesn't suit the creatures who're standing up vir ma en pa se besluit om weg van die Engels te gaan, om die mense te onthou wie vir almal die selfde reels gebruik het.

Ek kan nie Afrikaans wel praat nie; ek vind dat dis beter om dit (swak) te skryf omdat ek nie sal hoor dat ek sal moet rather speak in English.

Nou kan ek miskien gese dat ek is Braai'n. Maar ek gebruik 'n elektriese stof. Om diere op 'n vuur te kook is om die bybel se reels te gebruik.

At twenty-five I thought I could assimilate myself but I only met boys who were proud of having more than one tongue, or boys who had learned to say, 'ja liefie; nee liefie.'

And an Englishman is supposed to exhibit horror when he hears of a woman getting a good beating by her husband.

Onthou julle die nuus wat vir al die meisies die reg om elke dag met mekaar te praat oor wat 'ander vroumense' se, wie vir almal laat ken dat hulle is seker dat niemand anders wat 'n man is kon iets anders gedoen het?

Kry jy die prentjie, of sal ek 'n doos geskryf?

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