The end times

Here are some interesting links about the end times:

1. 1984 - a limited preview of the book.
2. George Orwell
3. Vals profete
4. Die nuwe openbaringe
5. geween en kners van tande
6. Another link to George Orwell’s 1984

original post : http://white_granny.iblog.co.za/

Charity?

The 67 minutes of Mandela Charity thing came and gone without much of a ripple in our routine.
Most of the people I know give much more than 67 minutes of their time to helping other in need either on a daily or on an hourly basis.

One of my friends gives 120 minutes of her time every hour of the day to helping someone in need.
She has a daughter with leukemia.

She is now faced with perhaps leaving her place of residence, because the owner needs it for her own family.

It seems that, in my environment, the people who mostly need to be reminded to give time to charity are those who receive it.

Some people become like helpless sponges and just take.

They have the attitude that the world owes them.

It does not matter how badly you are off, a smile or a good word cost nothing.

I remember some years ago, when our Pick and Pay decided to donate the day old bread to the squatter community.
Sometimes the transport would let them down and the bread become moldy.

The people appeared on television accusing the chain store for regarding them as pigs.

In that case it would have been better if the store chucked the bread. They would not have received the bad publicity the got instead of a “Thank you”

People often slap the hand that feeds them. They always want more and more.

They will only become satisfied when they get in a situation where they become givers and not just takers.

I don’t think the time to start giving is when you have excess. There are lots of things that you can give that do not cost money.
We should all be givers. Of wat praat ek alles

The hungry man

Dear Mr. President,

The man, who delivered free newspapers to my letterbox, asked me for bread when he saw me collect the post.

He was sitting on the opposite side of the road sorting the papers. He called the bread by a different name, and I had to ask him to explain what he was asking for.

My first reaction was to feel annoyed, because we see so much food being thrown away by people, pretending to be hungry, to play on our emotions to get money for booze instead. Professional liars.

Then I remember that it has been some weeks since I saw food being thrown away.
Perhaps people are really starving.
The man’s face flashed in front of my eyes.
His skin was darker than that of our local native population. He looked thin and sickly. His eyes were hollow.

My husband just left and I was alone at home. How do I know he was not going to pull a knife out and stab me when I hand him the bread?

I turned my back to him and closed the door so I could feel safe.

Perhaps I am a sucker, I thought. Let it not be recorded in my book of life , when I one day stand in front of the pearly gates, and the gatekeeper refuses me entrance because I turned a hungry man away when I had plenty to give.

I went to the kitchen and spread some marg and apricot jam onto a slice of bread and grabbed a bottle of water and took it to him to still my conscience - or balance my heavenly books … whatever.

I could have given him much more, but I still was not convinced that he was honest.

O, I wish I lived in a country where we can trust people again.
I am at heart a Samaritan but here in South Africa it as called “a sucker”!

Original post from : (http://grannypolitics.iblog.co.za)

My head book

This morning I feel rather pleased with myself.
As I awoke I sort of remembered my dream from the previous night. I then remembered that it continued on from a dream of the night before. Not that I was aware of recording it in my brain.
Then my mind continued to complete the dream even though I was awake.
Since this is not the first time that I woke up with a novel in my head, I decided to think it through.
I had to make a choice to either put it on ice for now, think it to as far as I can, or discard it since I do not have time to spend on novels right now.
Someone told me to write my thought-dreams down, because otherwise I spent my creativity without recording it ever. She said once creativity is spent, it goes.

I decided to record the outlines and started writing.
Even though I had no idea how it was going to play out; the words (or rather ideas) just flowed to the last paragraph. I crawled out of bed at 11 am with the whole comedy written down (the outline if it).

From beginning to the last sentence – the whole novel outline in my diary.

I have never brought a book to completion in one morning, even though this is about the sixth one I dreamed.

Sometimes it would take me three months to think one through.
My comedy has a beginning, a body, a theme, all the major actors (not their names) and an ending. Brilliant.

Except for the before last head-novel, I never even wrote them down.

This one is a comedy written for the screen or to be performed -- not for a book.

The story deals with two brothers that were abducted at the age of six months and were reunited with the family twenty six years later. They had to act that they were babies for the sake of the mother’s emotional health.

It is the first story that I ever minded-out that I could not put my own personality into any of the characters.

It is as if I was reading someone else's transcript.
Nevertheless, I am pleased with myself for writing the 26 pages into my diary.

Perhaps I shall learn how to write a TV novel and complete it one day.

The land of Croatia?

I thought I would start my "June - best webcam research" and came across this link.
One never know when one stumbles upon a video game or whether something is real on the internet.
I realize real or not - I know as little about Croatia as what most foreigners know about South Africa.
I bet you, by the end of this month, I shall know everything there is to know about this place.


I just have to find out if the town is here on earth or if it is one of a number of new lunar suburbs.
Perhaps we can start a white Afrikaner state there?"
Of what praat ek alles

Whatever here are a few links:

To enter Croatia a driver's licence, an automobile registration card and vehicle insurance documents (including Green Card) are required.

(sputnik supplied?)

In case of rain please adjust speed to conditions on wet roads.
Driving with headlights is obligatory during both day and night.
Mobile phones: Use of mobile phones while driving is not permitted
Maximum permitted amount of alcohol in blood: 0.0 per mill!
Use of seat belts is obligatory.


Http://www.accommodationincroatia.net/travel.phpe



I decided to consult Wikki (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Croatia) and she said. Sorry no apartheid here.
They do exist on earth.

Dear Mr. President,

Dear Mr. President, (Original post from http://grannypolitics.iblog.co.za/)
It is still a freezing cold winter morning outside.

It is early still. The time that people leave their homes to go to work.
A woman walks past my window. She looks like someone’s mother.
Her skin is drawn and her young face is wrinkled like that of a woman twenty years her senior.
She is thin. Her legs are bare and her bare feet are inside thin damp shoes. A thin sarong (for a skirt) covers the lower half of her body. A worn, thin, long sleeved faded sweater covers her upper half.
Under her arm she clutches a bag that met its last owner.
She walks as brisk as she can because it keeps her body warm so she can not feel the cold …….
So she can not feel her tummy aching for food. So she can not remember sending her children off to school without something to eat or drink this morning.
Her eyes scan the houses for one that looks friendly. One that may give her a job this morning.

The vision of getting some money to buy soup bones, maze, bread and beans to prepare a meal for her family tonight keeps her going. She can see her children filling their tummies and laugh a joke …… and dream about a better tomorrow. The one president Zuma promised.

She disappeared down the road. I reach out for my cup of tea and wonder what I would put on my toast this morning, honey or marmalade.

Somewhere far away, our country’s leaders are recovering from indigestion brought about from the rich breakfast they just indulged in. They have a full schedule. Many important decisions to make. There are the issues of the mines, the strikers, the economy and the upcoming summit. Yes, there are lots to deal with before lunch.

See how many days until
We reach our goal to MAKE POVERTY HISTORY by 2015

(http://sites.google.com/site/unityinafrica/)

Of wat praat ek alles

Bin People

The bin people - Cape Town suburb.10-06-2009

The activity at the garbage bins is a social indicator for a region.

No activity would mean that the poverty needs of a community are being met.

Today is bin-day. (Wednesdays is the day that we all one wheel our wheelie-bins outside onto our driveways in readiness for the garbage disposal truck.)
They have a golden rule: "whatever is not inside the bin will not be collected" So food, clothing or newspapers must be put inside the bin for the poorest of the poor to collect before the truck arrives.
It is a weekly ritual in our neighborhood.
The lucky organized bin-scavengers come in groups of two or more and neatly pack their shopping trolleys. They stack the trolley neatly and tightly to fit as much recyclable into it as they can. Their dedication to the job is the same as with any other job. This is their living.
Then you have the newcomers. They are not organized yet. The lucky ones carry rug sacks but the very new, Zimbabweans and other newcomers to the area, just have plastic shopping bags. Most of them are looking for food.
There is another brand of the rug sack brigade that has a criminal intent. They look for documents and ID papers.

I heard the shopping trolleys being pushed down the road very early. Were they the early-birds who wanted to catch the best recyclables? --- Or was it the house breakers making for the taxi rank to get to the buyers early?

Both sound the same
They both use shopping trolleys. (Theft of a shopping trolley in South Africa is regarded as a human right.) Stolen shopping trolleys are paid for by the consumer.

I have noticed more bin-scavengers with rug-sacks and very few trolleys this last month.
I have seen more people scratching the bins for food, but today it is very quiet in our street.
Yesterday I saw a woman sweeping the street. It was unusual, because there was not much rubbish in the gutters.

Last week there were a few people looking for newspapers and the box of newspapers I put into my bin was quickly snapped up.
.
I have not seen the glass collectors for a while.
I placed a box full of newspapers on top of my bin this morning, but no-one was interested.
I also put two cracked fish tanks next to the bin for the glass collectors, but it did not draw any interest.

Are the workers at the municipal offices waiting for community work opportunities?
Is the government succeeding in providing work?

The bin people and those hopefuls at the corners of the streets will be the measurement of how well the government fulfills its promise.


Of wat praat ek alles