The Yearning

Most English teachers will tell you how difficult it is to read for pleasure. Literature is work, something we read to find deeper meaning and even simpler ways to convey thay which encounter.

How refreshing it is to find a novel that engrosses you; a truly engaging, beautiful and authentically South African story. Every page was worth the read and it was bittersweet to put it down at the end.

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Better Than Me

No one knows how to lift my spirits better than me.Just put me behind the wheel and give me an adventure to embark on.

No one knows how to make my heart flutter better than me. Play me something beautiful, progressions with minors and husky voices and words that sing what I feel.

No one takes care of me better than me. Give me my matchbox flat, flavours to mix in a pot that nourish my belly and my soul.

No one calms me better than me. Make the room quiet and leave me to my own devices.

No one knows me better than me and no one loves me better than me because I’m all I’ve got…

Looking Forward To

I think the world is full of things that frustrate us, things that make us angry, make us cry, make us wonder what in the world we are in this world for! But it is full of beautiful things too. Things that elate us, make our hearts skip a beat and smile at its wonder.

The latter is what I want to focus on this week, maybe even longer than this week – only the things that are good because, every day, there is something to #lookforwardto

I hope you’ll accompany me on this journey…

Dust

“I want to be a better writer. Help me,” She pleaded. She wanted her words to touch someone. She wanted someone to connect with her ramblings.

The best advice she gave was no different to words of wisdom for the walk of life. “Keep writing… reading also helps with that.” 

And so she must keep scribbling on the page as best she can. Keep turning the page until the ink dries and soon, they will connect…

Writing

I have notebooks everywhere. Loose pieces of paper next to the bed, on the kitchen counter, in the bookshelves, inside drawers, all of them, pleading for my handwriting. They are begging for my ink to bleed on them. “Write anything!” They implore. And so, I try. I use the booklet on the counter at the front door for shopping lists. The journals next to my bed, one is for bible verses and lessons, another I use for workouts and to measure my thighs. I use some for to do lists.

There are pages and pages and pages but not enough words to fill them all…

Identity

My learners are working on their own identity posters. Some of them found it difficult so I decided to give it a try to help them to see how it is done. Here is my attempt:

I have been playing the guitar since I  was a teenager. It makes me feel confident knowing that I can play my favourite songs. People think it is unusual that a black lady teaches English – it’s not my mother tongue! I have been told that I have a big heart – too big a heart. I treat people very well, but they don’t always do the same for me. Sometimes it’s hard to be me, but what would the world be without me?

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I will make copies of my first draft just so they understand that writing is not always perfect; it is a work in progress… wish me luck!