Welcome to My Sunday

Do you know those cold Sunday mornings, when you get up and go for a jog. When you get back you take a hot shower and you wrap yourself in a warm blankie as you watch The Great British Bake Off. Then you start wondering where your 4-month-old border collie puppy is and your significant other reassures you she’s just playing in the back yard. Then your curiosity just wants to kill the cat and you go check the back yard. And then you find your fully-fenced, net-covered garden covered in feathers, with a very happy border collie sitting, smiling, next to a dead pigeon. Strawberries trampled, tomato vines broken and you trying to figure out the riddle of how the hell is this even possible. Welcome to my Sunday.


Back on Track

Well.. no words will be enough to excuse my total inactivity as The Pink Cucumber. I guess the reason I stopped was a huge disappointment after I didn’t get into university to study horticulture and the process of me getting my matric here would be a mission above all missions. My dreams of being a horticulturist were crushed.

Though before this year ends, I would like to announce – we’re back on track, hell yes! After bombarding companies who provide horticulture training with my emails, I got good news and hopefully from next year I will be working on my certificate! My dreams are back, bigger then ever!

I have not been posting, but trust me, I have been garden-busy: there are monster tomatoes growing in the garden, there was a thief who stole my marula tree (I am still so upset about this one! But no worries, 20 new seeds already planted), there was a crow that outsmarted my garden netting, the new puppy murdering my Russian blueberries, and by murder I mean murder, slaughter, dead, kaput, finito.

There have been many many attempts (and fails) to grow stuff that should not be grown. Oh, not to mention my favourite – stealing ferns and other plants, carrying them in a box of jaffa cakes in the beautiful forests of Drakensberg. And of course finding the only nursery in the area where we stayed and traveling with huge pomegranate and fig trees, acacia and a hot lips bush to Pretoria.

I’ll let you know more next year, till then happy new year and have fun gardening in this crazy hot summer!


We are alive, I promise.

Long story as short as possible – we come to the airport, they say ‘You can leave, but then you’ll be banished for 5 years’.

All because my actual magic visa sticker was sitting at the department since December (‘I was told you’ll sms me when the visa is ready’ ‘No, we only sms when you’re unsuccessful’ Erm..how does that make any sense?). Changing tickets, paying more money, going to Russia finally. Fishing, digging out trees and successfully smuggling them in, eating TONS of ice cream, running around Moscow metro for three days while living in a windowless room (windowless, indeed) in 40 degrees C. Hurray we are back, more tired then relaxed (three long flights just to get home do take their toll).

And as it happens, life becomes more important than blogging for a while and there is cleaning the garden for spring and thinking about the limitless possibilities I suddenly have as a proud owner of a visa.

The decision is to cook and sell at Pretoria’s food markets – this Saturday we’re going to Irene market to check out the competition. And of course trying to get my maths matric. Oh yes, this one I didn’t share with you – I can’t be a student and get a National Diploma, because years ago I didn’t do matric in maths. Doesn’t matter that I already have a degree from a proper university, nope, I shall now join the young minds of South Africa and take matric next year. Maths, ew.