I got a girl name of Boney Maroney, she’s as skinny as a stick of macaroni

So goes the old song, a favourite of my late dad’s.

I’m not. Skinny as a stick of macaroni, that is. Not anymore.

Could be as a result of the good food I ate at the Indaba. Could be the past six weeks working my way through a contract and eating off the agency breakfast trolley every morning. Could be the campaign I was working on, which was … chocolate …

Anyhow, time has flown and today is my last day at the agency. It seemed fitting that I bid the friends I’ve made here goodbye with cakes, and it seems imperative that said cakes contain the product we’ve all been concentrating on.

Now, before I tot off to say my farewells, and in light of yesterday’s post about the return of my errant dog, I want to share an old story:

As a young woman, my mother in law lived in a house that was next door to the Valkenberg Psychiatric Hospital. She had a big yellow dog called Tex, who had been in a dog fight and had a long row of stitches on his back. The wound had started suppurating and the vet had given her ointment to apply and ordered her to try and keep it covered. She thought she had found a perfect solution; he was roughly the same size as Old Spouse (then a small boy of six) and she had dressed Tex in one of her son’s tshirts.

One morning Tex managed to get out of the gate and ran down the road. My MIL, at that stage still in her dressing gown, ran around the neighborhood looking for him. Eventually she went into the hospital grounds and couldn’t find him anywhere, so she ran toward the main entrance and there she encountered one of the psychiatrists who had arrived to do his rounds. Have you seen my dog, she asked him, he’s wearing a yellow shirt?

The doctor looked at her and very kindly, without missing a beat, he said; and you’re worried because he doesn’t have his trousers on?



  1. Lucky she was not admitted up with a comment like that.

    Gorgeous chocolate cake, I’m determined to hunt a decent one down in Seoul this weekend after reading this.

  2. The cakes are beautiful! I don’t think I could make one like that but I certainly could eat it.

    I wonder how your mother in law was allowed to leave the hospital premises again? 🙂

  3. I don’t have a sweet tooth, but do love Bar-One (we had a gang called The Bar-One Gang at school… and now I am “lus” for Bar-One Chc Brownies!

    LOVE the story about MIL!

    Have a great weekend
    Xena ;}}

    • I’ve decided to go and register to vote here as I have a new venture that I want to really put all my money and efforts into over the next few months. Will tell you about it on the phone. xxx

  4. Ah – thanks for my first proper chuckle of the day with that story… the chocolate and cake went down well too with my pre-breakfast coffee. Wow, six weeks went by fast! Congratulations, and enjoy your last day, not to mention your fast breaking freedom… er… 🙂

  5. I love the dog story about your mother-in-law. So cute! I’m glad they didn’t grab her with a net and slap her in a bed. 🙂

    My mother, in her 30’s and a beautiful woman at the time, heard our little dog yelping. She looked out the window saw that our pet had been hit by a car and was running wildly, limping. My mother, dressing for work was then wearing only in a black, nylon slip and high heels. She ran out the door and chased the dog. I stood watching from the window as a trail of neighborhood men joined the chase behind her. I wish I’d have had a camera.

    I really enjoyed your story. I hope you don’t mind hearing about my mother and her helpers. The men ran faster than my mother. One of them caught the dog. She survived and completely healed. Blessings, Cindy…

  6. And so change happens again. Sounds like you made it through ok 🙂 Good on you! Funny story!! and by the look of those cakes you can say farewell to me any days! 🙂

  7. What a great story. The true ones tickle so much better than jokes!! She’s lucky she wasn’t abducted.

    Oh boy…how to get that cake out of my mind, you naughty ‘thang’!

  8. Oh boy, your colleagues were fortunate, Cindy – they must miss you madly! I trust that your new work phase is going fabulously though…and really enjoyed your hilarious MIL story 😀

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s