Sickly sweet… Amore

Think of your longest relationship: describe how your love has changed over time, did you go from the giddiness of infatuation, to mad passion, to deep respect, esteem, and friendship? Tell us about your love story.

I do miss him already, this best friend of mine, that’s amore right? Working shifts sometimes means that we can completely miss each other in the day and so I haven’t had a conversation with my husband since Monday (it’s Wednesday). The sacrifices we make:)

I met my husband the old fashioned way (ok, maybe not quite old fashioned) via Facebook. Mutual friends had decided that we were a definite match and took it upon themselves to introduce us over social media thinking we’d hit it off immediately. I added him on Facebook and, as you do, began stalking his Facebook profile, needless to say I was extremely irritated with my friends (and him for his questionable morals) when I saw that his relationship status was still set to ‘Married’. Why on earth would my friends think that I would have any interest in a married man?! Insult much? I did however note that he was pretty good looking (I imagine him chuckling as he reads this) and we had extremely similar tastes and likes in music, movies, books and pretty much everything else we talked about.

I then decided that I was in a time of my life that the more friends I had, the merrier and why not befriend someone new? How could it hurt? We then started off on the occasional status like and eventually I was commenting on all of his lyric quiz statuses, getting them all right (obviously). He had asked a question on Facebook regarding ‘ol Blue eyes’ and who he was and I replied that it was Sinatra of course, this is how we started chatting. We started facebook messaging / emailing each other and the first question I asked him was why did he add me as a friend if he was married? I was quite happy to hear that though he was still legally married, he had been separated for a little while and was out to meet new people (the stories of his previous relationship not for this blog purpose), he also told me that he was adding as many people as he could – enough to make any girl feel special (he has since done a considerable facebook cull). For 2 weeks we chatted on and off and got to know each other really well, it was an exciting time and we clicked almost immediately yet I withheld my expectations for fear of being hurt (after a still recent and damaging break up that I was getting over).

At the time I was portraying a rather hardcore exterior, not interested in love or a relationship and most definitely not marriage. I was adamant I didn’t want any more children, I’d become accustomed to being a single mother of a 4 year old and was happy to settle for that. Despite all of this, there was something about this man that intrigued me and even though I hadn’t met him yet, I knew that this was not the be all and end all of our friendship. I decided that I was ready to meet him and with my sister’s permission I invited him to her birthday party at ye olde Corner house, it was a public place so if he was a psychopath, I was assuming I’d be somewhat safe. I worked in Fourways at the time so we decided that he would pick me up and together we’d drive down the road to the pub, not awkward or unsafe at all.

He arrived at my offices in a red uno, with a matching red tie and brand new shoes, I will never forget it. Funnily enough, I happened to be wearing a red and black outfit myself so without realizing it, we matched:) Turns out our mutual friend had schooled him before hand about my infatuation for shoes and to ensure he impressed, he bought new ones. We drove awkwardly down to the pub and spent the night chatting about anything and everything, he met my entire (massive) family in one night and all my closest friends without flinching. At one point, we stood together and I overheard him say ‘I’m bailing’ and feeling a bit upset I didn’t want him to leave, so by force we had our first kiss in the hopes he wouldn’t leave. Turns out all he’d said was ‘I’m failing’ thinking he wasn’t winning with me… Clearly I showed him he wasn’t failing and got the first move out of the way. We were the last to leave that night, somewhere around 2am, he dropped me home like the perfect gentleman he is and all I wanted was to see him again. It was a Thursday night and we’d made plans to go away to a metal fest that weekend with our mutual friends, I was too excited!

Friday came, I went to my friends, we all went in the same car and what a downer that festival was. He was very cold, barely said two words to me and by the time we got home on Sunday he didn’t even say goodbye when they dropped me off… Talk about confused! On Monday I came into work to a very long email explaining how much he did like me and we could be friends but couldn’t date, it wasn’t right because his divorce hadn’t been finalized even though he was separated and he was extremely guilty. Thinking that was it, I didn’t imagine to hear from him again so imagine my surprise when the calls started and I saw him everyday for the next week, dinners and movies etc. By Saturday he had gotten over himself, he made it official and we were dating (September).

The following month was my birthday and an awesome roller coaster ride of a new relationship. Three weeks after my birthday and barely 2-3 months after we started dating, he hadn’t even moved in yet, I found out I was pregnant! Oops! Scariest but best time of my life, I met the in-laws, his divorce was finalized, he moved in, treated my oldest daughter as his own and finally we got our own place… Mere months away from our daughter. Anyone will tell you a baby will test a relationship and, D definitely did. We had to learn, in a very short time, what we both wanted in life, what our goals were and if this was the real deal. We had to be there for each other through great and horrible times and yet, here we are, out on top. In October, 3 months after our daughter was born, he surprised me with a proposal over breakfast and of course, I said yes! 8 months later, just after our daughters first birthday, we were married – One of the most amazing days of my life. This year we celebrate our second wedding anniversary and 4 years together… A turbulent but triumphant 4 years with many more to come.

When you know, you know. For all the uphill I give him, I love him immensely. We have had a roller coaster ride together and so many things happened so quickly for us, but that’s ok. We can weather any storm together and have two beautiful children and an amazing family to show for it. He is my best friend, my worst enemy, my confidante, the person who sees me cry and the man that wipes away my tears. He is supportive in everything that I do and makes sure that our family has the life we need. I want for nothing and everything my heart desires is given to me. He puts me on a pedestal and often forgets about himself, reminding me just how much he loves me, every girl should know that feeling. He makes me feel like I am the only girl in the world. He knows all my secrets, shares my dreams, walks beside me and is the true showing of what a husband should be. He never complained about changing nappies nor does he complain about cooking dinner. While I make it difficult for him with my fussiness, he never stops trying to be romantic. I am so grateful everyday to wake up with my best friend and my imperfectly perfect family…

Thank you Frank Sinatra (and Rory), look what you had a hand in…






Sweet dreams are made of this.

I’ve always had an over active imagination and that’s been reflected in the content of my dreams (and nightmares). I often dream about the events of the day combined with the storyline of my favorite movie being portrayed by the main character in the book I’m reading, my dreams are haphazard to say the least. I tried to start a ‘Dream Journal’ to document my dreams as I wake up (I always remember them funnily enough) yet the minute I started, I’d forgotten most of my dreams before waking.

A recurring dream I’ve had my whole life still stands out in my mind, never having been interpreted by a professional but a few friends have attempted it, feel free to have a go at this dream’s interpretation.

A quaint little cottage, reminding me of an inedible Hansel and Gretal house, stands in in what appears to be a moist green meadow. In the front garden of this cottage stands a concrete block on top of which a shallow stone bath rests. My mom and dad, still very young wearing the suit and dress I think I remember they got married in (based on photos I’ve seen) are standing next to each other, between the cottage and bath, facing the stone bath. In the stone bath is a young girl, approximately an 8 year old me, laying in a shallow pool of water in this bath. I’m laying on my back in an almost sleeping position, hands across my chest, looking upward. My hair is sprayed out in tight brown curls around my face, I’m dressed in an emerald green velvet dress with white lace collar and waistband paired with thick white opaque stockings and black Mary Jane pumps. I remember looking around and seeing my parents and then suddenly they’re gone and the scene has changed. I’m now sitting on the edge of a concrete embankment, water flowing through a canal quite rapidly at times and slowing down to almost stagnant at others. I’m dressed in the same clothes as I was in the bath, with my feet dangling off of the edge, staring into my reflection in the water noticing someone beside me. When I look up, next to me in the same outfit is another girl, she has all the same characteristics and her hair is even curled the same way staring down into the same body of water. When she looks up to face me, her face isn’t there, she has no facial features. Where her mouth, nose, eyes and cheekbones should be is taut flushed skin, as if you were looking at a back with hair. When I realize the ‘faceless girl’ is the spitting image of me, I wake up knowing that it is me, without my face.

This dream comes back to haunt me once or twice a year, never to be made sense of, it’s almost time for the next one.

Daily Prompt: Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)
by Krista on February 26, 2014
What is the best dream you’ve ever had? Recount it for us in all its ethereal glory. If no dream stands out in your memory, recount your worst nightmare. Leave no frightening detail out.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us IMAGINARY.


Nothin’ but a good time

The Daily Prompt calls for a photo blog today. With a day off, no responsibilities and duties, here is what I’d get up to in no particular order.







Daily Prompt: Nothin’ But A Good Time
Posted by Krista
Imagine that tomorrow, all of your duties and obligations evaporate for the day. You get the day all to yourself, to do anything you please. What types of fun activities would make your day?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us FUN.

Never gonna give you up… Today’s daily prompt.

Daily Prompt: Never Gonna Give You Up

You. We know *you* are vice-free, dear Daily Post reader. But, or perhaps we should say, “butt,” others around you and in your life are riddled with vices: they smoke; they eat too much celery; they hog the covers; they can’t keep their hands out of the office candy bowl. Which vice or bad habit can you simply not abide in others?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us VICE.


No forward necessary.

1. Stupidity – While I can forgive ignorance and pride myself on education, plain stupidity is unforgivable. We are all gifted at birth with an astounding brain capable of things we’ve yet to scratch the surface of and yet majority of humanity walk around and act as if they are newly evolved. Leaders are figureheads, puppets on a string. Relaxation for me requires limitation of my own IQ to keep up with the masses. No, I’m not a genius, I’m just not stupid.

2. Sloth – No, not the marsupial nor Sid, the Ice Age character. The act of pure uncleanliness and untidiness, personal hygiene and surroundings. I’ve learnt to accept others and their way of life however, my level of my own intolerance in my own household is unbearable. I have OCD, there is no getting around it. Keep clean, stay in line. It’s not difficult.

3. Interruption – I spent a good 30 minutes on the phone to a client this afternoon and didn’t manage to get a word in edge ways. I’m quite interesting to listen to if you’d shut up for a minute, or 5.

4. Don’t call me – From the other room. In fact, I’d rather you pick up your phone and call me to speak to me instead of shouting to me out of earshot from the other room. Annoyance level 7.

5. Fork bite = Food fight – If you chew the cutlery over chewing the food, I may be inclined to throw the food at you instead of continue listening to
your savagery.

I could carry on but I wouldn’t know when to stop if I didn’t stop now…
I’m rather easy going, believe it or not😉


Don’t you… Forget about me.

As I walk on by, hear them call my name.
As I walk on by, would you remember my name?

La, la la la la, la la la la…

As an onlooker at one’s own funeral, butterflies in the stomach flutter at the reading of my own eulogy. What will they say? How will I be remembered?

I watch my children take the podium to read the ode’s they’ve written. Girls after my own heart with a penchant for the spoken and written word, I know I did something right. I know that the hours and days of reading and writing encouragement when they were young children has paid off. It cannot be said that I wasn’t a doting mother, filled with love for my children no matter how furious they made me. Would they remember this now over the memory of my lifeless shell in the wooden box beside them? Their own children looking back at them from the audience, my beautiful grandchildren, watching their mothers with pride and love. They married well, not without ups and downs yet they’re better women for it, now that they are both settled and well cared for by their doting partners, I was ready to make my move onward. I cannot help but stare at these glorious women that I brought into thus world, so amazing and yet so different in every way. They are so close, I hope that I’ve done enough that they’d always have each other until the end of their days, that angry words are said and forgotten and they hold hands forever more as they do now. I’m so proud, they are my greatest achievement, what aches the most to leave behind, my beautiful daughters.

It’s impossible to ignore the forlorn bald man to their right, seated behind them, shoulders slumped and head in hands. My best friend, what did I do to you? We never planned for this, my sudden departure from a lifetime we’ve shared. How I will miss his beautiful face in the morning, the way he looked at me and the intensity of his embrace. How will he carry on? Why did I do this to him? Tears well as only that morning I watched him break down before the mirror, contemplating his own future and unsure of where to from here. Our marriage was our most important asset and now I leave him without his friend, his lover, his confidante and his children’s mother. I leave him in the arms of my daughters where I know he will be safe until he is ready to pick up and move on with his life. I would love for him to meet someone who will take care of him as I did, though I know nothing will compare. We were power husband and wife, looked up to by all and admired by many. I’m uncertain of how I will manage without him, I cannot bear to see his pain any longer. We endured so much, we overcame each and every time. How do we overcome this?

So many people came to listen to my lifetime today… Friends, such beautiful friends. Close friends who each have a turn to stand and say a funny story, a motivational moment, an amazing memory. I will miss each and every person sitting there and I have no doubt they will miss me. They’re here to remember me as the supportive friend I was, ever the relationship counsellor. They think now to whose broad shoulders will be strong enough to take the place of mine. They will all be excited by the party I left arranged for them after the memorial, I stocked the bar that they can honor and celebrate my life instead of mourning my death and I look forward to watching that celebration from the sidelines, a first for me. Family, parents and siblings, all here to see me off… Though different, I was always accepted, the best sister or daughter I could be, flaws and all.

Years worth of colleagues join in the back rows, here to listen to my friends and family speak of the person I was in my personal life. I see so many who supported me through good and through bad times in my career, who watched me grow and flourish and who always had my back. There were naysayers who said I couldn’t do it and yet today, the business I opened flourishes and provides for my families and their families, the books I wrote will continue to feed their children’s children and my clothing line is everlasting, me embodied in fabric.

Thinking back on all of this, I missed all but the last line of the eulogy my daughters stand here to read, but that’s ok because I know what they will say. I know that they are proud of who I was and the legacy I left behind, I only wish I didn’t have to leave them along with it.

What was the last line you ask? A song from an all time favorite movie…

As Simple Minds once said, don’t you forget about me.

Daily Prompt: Don’t You Forget About Me
by Krista on February 16, 2014
Imagine yourself at the end of your life. What sort of legacy will you leave? Describe the lasting effect you want to have on the world, after you’re gone.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us LEGACY.


It’s Friday, I’m in love. First love.

He was the perfect gentleman, as gentlemanly as a 12 year old could be. A school disco in Standard 5 gave us the opportunity to slow dance with each other, realizing that we were ready to date. Though I wasn’t actually allowed to date, a secret boyfriend seemed like a fantastic idea. AG lived only a few roads away from where I did, we went to the same school and we had so much in common. He was everything that a father would want for her daughter, only I was only 11 years old and definitely not ready for a boyfriend.

There were hugs here and there, hands being held at every opportunity while waiting for the bus after school. I was in love. One day after school he asked me to come over to his house to watch Power Rangers, I had asked my dad and he had agreed that I could go and he would fetch me later. I went home first that afternoon and put on the most beautiful dress I owned, a black long sleeve dress with party skirt in three luminous colors, AG then came to my house to fetch me on his bicycle. This wasn’t the most well thought out plan as I was now in a short skirt but we made the ride work, he stood and cycled while I side saddled on the seat of his bicycle for the most uncomfortable bicycle ride of my life.

When we arrived at his house, his mom was waiting. I remember walking into the gate, completely unsure of how to act and what to say. This happened in movies, boys and girls spent time together, things got awkward, I wasn’t sure I was ready for this. I walked through the house into his linoleum kitchen in a shade of canary yellow, to his mother standing holding a homemade jug of ginger beer. She greeted me warmly, poured me a glass of ginger beer and I accepted graciously. I should have known that this would end awkwardly when taking a swig of the ginger beer only to discover the raisins in the cup. I forced the raisins down my throat and did my best to look grateful. AG led us to his bedroom (What?) and when going in I realized he had a television in his room and this was where we were going to watch Power Rangers.

We sat awkwardly on the bed next to each other, he took my hand and we interlocked fingers. Holding hands was familiar to us and I was happy to be there with him, innocently watching tv. I then decided to lay down so he offered to put a pillow on his leg and I could lay down on his lap, not thinking much of this I lay down and we continued to watch Power Rangers. My heart was thumping through my chest, uncertain of what was to come, how I should be feeling and not completely understanding the sweat that was building on my brow. I was facing the television when a light caress across my cheek with his hand caused me to look up into his face, as I did he bent down and gave me my first kiss. He touched his lips gently to mine and time stopped for what was only mere moments, it was then that his mom opened his door and told me it was time to go home.

I remember feeling very dazed, confused but more in love with AG than I could possibly imagine.

Sadly, we didn’t see each other much after this day. We moved to a new house, as did he, and I started high school where we went to separate schools only ever to see each other in brief passing. I did not have a boyfriend for a very long time after AG and instead became a bit of a nerd, dating again only in Grade 10. I did run into him in college, he had let himself go a little bit but still had the same boyish smile of the nervous kid who held my cheek and briefly kissed me, or what we thought was a kiss.

AG was my first love even though I was so young, I will never forget him:)


Daily Prompt: It’s Friday, I’m in Love
by Krista on February 14, 2014
Remember your first crush? Think about that very first object of your affection. Oh, the sweaty palms. The swoony feeling in your stomach. Tell us the story of your first crush. What was it about this person that made your heart pound? Was the love requited? Change the names to protect the guilty or innocent if you must! No judgement here. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Photographers, artists, poets: show us SMITTEN.

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