I met him when he was only 9 months old.

Chubby cheeks, with a head full of unruly curls, tied in a high bun.

Imagine a boy with a bun.

He looked very girly, in a cute way.

It is definitely not an everyday occurrence that you will see a boy with such long hair.

Mamma just resigned her day job and decided to be a day mother and he was her first (baby).

My sister dubbed you Pokkels.

Pokkels was joined by his smaller brother too after a while and together they became part of our household and boy oh boy were they naughty.

They soon became part of the family, family holidays, trips, gatherings etc.

At times, they would refuse to go home, because they reasoned they were home already.

Much to your parents’ distaste off course.

If Pokkels would get into trouble at home, he would come hide at our house, so that he does not get a good hiding.

They called my parents Pappa and Mamma and their parents on their names.

And at the tender age of 20 in 2010, he passed away tragically, in a car accident.

And mum carried that sadness every day for nine months and then she passed away too.

I still hear her scream after she got the news, she would always tell you to drive carefully every time you spoke to each other.

I wonder if he came to fetch her. You know what they say, someone who has preceded always come back to fetch another, and so the cycle goes.

And life was never the same again.

Happy Birthday in Heaven Boeta.



Image by Pexels


Visiting Heaven

Our family has been visited by the death angel.

Someone who my boy was very fond of passed on a few days ago.

Naturally, I was fond of the person too and he has contributed a lot to my upbringing.

I had to break the news to my son and I knew it was going to be a tough one.

Tough because I will be asked a hundred questions.

Trying to compose myself of all the very familiar feelings death brings, I eventually told him a day or two ago.

The conversation was extremely challenging. My son is extremely challenging.

Well, what else did I expect, his mum is challenging too.

Aged four, with my 37-year-old brain it feels at times.

He ended up wanting to know, if he can go visit this particular person in heaven.

I said unfortunately no, and like any other 4year old, he wanted to know, why not.

It is all about the why lately.

So I also kept quiet, I later gave him a reason but he insisted, when we do our evening devotion, we need to pray and ask Jesus to give our car super powers so that we can quickly fly to heaven, visit this person and his granny and then come back again, because he miss them too much.

He looked at me with his big brown eyes and said: heaven is in the sky Mamma; at that point, my eyes were full of H2O. I am a big cry baby, more so if it is close to the PMS window. Am I talking to someone right now?

And as much as I tried explaining to him that visiting heaven is not that easy, it is just not like any other trip we took, it is permanent, he was not phased.

I also told him that our loved ones who has left the earth before us, is always in our hearts and around us, we do not need to visit them, we just need to close our eyes and feel them.

Did I tell you that his granny has passed on 3years already when he was born, but he speaks of her as if he knew her for years?

If only it was that simple my boy to visit and come back, but it is not and hopefully one day, I will find the words to explain to you better.

I am thankful for the childlike faith and innocence you have shown me, you keep me grounded.

One day, you will realise that you carry a little piece of heaven within you.

And one day, you will also know that they are having a ball up there right now, whilst we are gulping for air and missing them.



Image by Pexels





Will You…Marry Me?

I have been proposed to, twice in my life.

And I am starting to think that twice is where the line was drawn by the Universe.

The first at the very tender age of 21, the second at the age of 28 I think.

Come travel with me, down memory lane and let me tell you bits and pieces of the first proposal.

I was a young and upcoming trained Police Officer. I earned my uniform, up the inclines of the now very developed Kleine Kuppe in Windhoek.

I soon got promoted from the ‘’charge office’’ better known as the Police Station to the Detective Unit known as CID – Criminal Investigation Department.

I was a WHOLE Detective at the age of 21. I know right. Very difficult to wrap your head around it. From hero to zero.

So many things happened in my life at that age, it was one hell of a roller coaster ride. And you think the 30’s is rough. My friend, sit down, let me tell you.

On a particular gloomy day in WalvisBay, most days here apply to that one line, I sat in my office and it was at a time where one could still smoke in buildings/offices. My supervisor was a chain smoker, and I was becoming one too at a very fast pace, believe me when I tell you that being a Detective at 21 is tough, not as glamorous as Hawaii Five O on Tele. So I picked up the bad habit of smoking whilst a Police Officer.

So I just finished a cigarette (Craven A, those menthol ones that makes your chest burn so badly) and I was deep into a case docket when I suddenly felt a presence about me.

I looked up to my office door, which was open, but there was no one. I continued working and the presence filled the room again. It was unexplainable. I looked up and saw my best friend’s picture smiling down at me from the notice board, where I pasted it.

The same best friend whose open grave I stood at six months ago. The same board we use for brainstorming cases.

Saying my heart was broken into tiny little pieces then, will be the understatement of my life.


When I was younger, I had this huge fear that I will not remember the people who left the earth for the yonder world. Thus, I would do anything in my willpower to honour their memory, and pictures was one way of making sure not to forget about them, it still is. I continued with my work and just as I was about to get into it, I sensed someone looking at me, and I looked up directly to the door and for a second I saw my late friend, I blinked, and I looked at his picture, trying to search for a rational explanation, but then the person standing at the door started talking and it turned out not to be my late friend, but resembling my late friend heavily. I blinked again, hell I even spoke to myself and continued working; certainly, my brain was playing with me.

The man standing at the door was my late friend’s older brother, they resembled one another very very much. I was left in awe, for a few moments. For a few good moments, because I was still just blown away by the face and the person. Anywhooo, when I came around we got the formalities out of the way and went for a bite to eat, I think. He literally showing up on my doorstep was part of a plan between him and me. We agreed to meet six months after the funeral; we both needed time to sort out certain things in our lives. We fell in love even before his brother’s passing; his brother never gave his blessing though. DRAMA.

So, my best friend’s late brother asked me to marry him, at the tender age of 21, hours after I buried my best friend and he his brother.

The proposal was not big, like people make proposals out to be nowadays, we were at the after tears at someone’s house, he got undressed until he only had on his underpants and jumped into the pool in the middle of winter, yes, and when he got out of the pool, dripping wet, he came and knelt down in front of me and asked me to marry him. I remember almost falling off the chair. I do not remember the rest, but I did blow him off at that moment and the crowd helped me in stabilising the situation.

I considered it when he asked me though, because I had real human feelings for him.

But the more I thought about it, the more I knew I was too young.

That and many other reasons, like, I would never be able to love him unconditionally,

That his love and attention will be competing with a dead man’s memory,

That whatever love I will harbour for him will be based on his brother’s memory, and that I will always compare him to his brother, and I will end up resenting him.

So, I turned down his proposal indefinitely.

So the next time you judge me for not being married at the age of 37, remember, that I said no at the age of 21 already.


Remembering you with love my darling.



Defying Nature

I am not a fan of the month of April.

I do not have a particular reason for it, but I am sure if it would be a painting, it would be an unattractive one, in my mind that is, something I would definitely not look at twice, let alone purchase.

One moment it is still summer and you spend your days at the beach and the next moment it is chilly and you run to the shops for stockings and winter coats.

Just like that, no invite, no warning, just BAM in your face. So, for a soul who feeds off sunshine, it is not a good time for me honestly. Makes my soul feel all grey and sluggish, and it is not very helpful to my already needy needs which I have been experiencing. I started feeling a bit green a week ago, at the very beginning of April, but I could not quite put my finger on it. By the middle of last week, I knew the greenish feeling is stemming from a brewing cold. However, office dynamics were at its worse and I had to opt to self-medicate at night and weather a possible cold attacking my health at work. There was no way I could be sick from work. By Friday, I was dead, well almost.

In addition, it was the weirdest cold I have ever had, there was just a very bad scratch in my throat, which resulted in a bit of coughing, I had no runny nose, no teary eyes, but my entire body felt as if I was part of a wrestling match, and I had no appetite. That is a first, since I always remain hungry. I arranged to go home by lunch time so that I can medicate again and rest, since my son had his sports day the next day and there was no way I could not go and be there for an event he has been so excited about for a long time. The few hours of rest, did me good and then it was back to business as usual, picking my son up from school etc. Saturday morning at the sports, it was extremely cold, it has not been this cold in a very long time, and I was there dreading how my flu will just worsen.

By Sunday, I felt like dying all over again, just to realise I have another visitor. The type of visitor that only visits woman once a month and that bears pain and discomfort and cravings, and tender boobies. Being a woman, I should be used to this now right.

Wrong! I am not, because for the past four years I did not experience this at all, due to science and fancy things called the Mirena. Eventually, the pros were against me, that for another day and I had to remove it January 2019, and I was told that after three months of removing it, I would be going back to my normal cycle. So, today is Day 1 of my normal cycle after four years. Yes, you read right. And now the greenish feeling for the past 7 days makes sense, now the sudden flu without a runny nose makes sense, now the loss of appetite makes sense and the constant queasy feeling.

I remember my mother would tell me how she would be ill every month, with similar symptoms. So seems it is hereditary. At 09h: 45 this morning, I was in tears due to a very heartfelt message I received from someone close to my heart. Real, big tears. I ended up in the loo for a good 15 minutes and cried about it whilst typing and deleting and retyping a reply. Why today, of all days. I am always such a composed woman.

At 16h15 I received a picture from someone via social media and looking at it, seeing its beauty, I again broke down and cried. It was just such a sigt for sore eyes and an immensely beautiful picture.

It is going to be a bumpy April 2019. I can feel it.

I just want to go home and take a hot bath, and drink hearty soup made by my late mother and lie in bed and watch romcoms until I pass out, and I want loads of cuddles the whole night, by one person only and light feathery kisses on my forehead when I sleep.

Send me loads of hugs.






Eczema Skin Care 101

I am a Mommy of a little boy who has Eczema.

I had an easy pregnancy. No morning sickness, no pregnancy ailments and no cravings. How lucky can one be right?

So I was hoping that it would also be an easy journey once baby arrived.

That is where I got it wrong.

At times, I think that because of the easy pregnancy, I was awarded a bit more than the normal mummy once the little one arrived.

But I would be reminded that there would be growing pains, and boy, oh boy, growing pains he had.

Touch wood#

I would like to say that we are fairly out of the woods now, with the regular toddler ailments visiting now and again and we have successfully mastered the growing pains phase so I almost feel brave enough to say, if there should be Baby Number 2, I would want all the pregnancy ailments, in order to have it easier when it comes to the growing pains.

Jokes Aside.

There are many theories behind Eczema and treatments, I do not wish to explore them here since I am not the expert, but what I do want to do is to share with you a remedy our GP gave us about a month or two ago and it has been working like magic. I have spent thousands on ointments and doctor’s visits and peads visits. Thus, I was so relieved when something so simple worked.

I am all for sharing.

As in the picture attached to the blog, we use –

Epizone cream, mix it with Stop Itch, and apply to the body as often as possible.

His skin is always dry so the more we moisturise, the better and we use the same replacing it as soap for bath time. Since his skin is too sensitive to apply any perfumed soap or shower gel, we use his lotion as a soap too, by simply rubbing it in all over his body and then washing it off.


I hope this helps someone out there.

 Disclaimer: The views in this article is of my own and not of my employer and it is also not a marketing pitch for the products mentioned.

‘’Curvy Scorpio Mummy’’




Ephesians 6v12

‘’For we wrestle not against flesh and blood but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places’’.

 The above bible verse only makes sense to me now. Sometimes we don’t read to understand, however, I understand it now. I get goosebumps every time I read it, because it is so so true. I feel this scripture and thus the below blog post.

On 24 March 2016, I posted the following on Facebook.

‘’I am so glad I have forgiven others and myself and set them free to live their lives as they see fit. I have never been so at peace in my life. Thank You Jesus’’.

Years later, I share the same sentiment.

I am at a place in my life where things are far from perfect.

But it is okay. And I tell you, it is a long and tiresome journey to get here where I am now.

But it is so worth it.

At my own pace.

In His time.

And I feel so blessed.

I am who God says I am.

And that is all that matters.

Happy Monday, Happy New Month, Happy New Week Readers.

‘’Curvy Scorpio’’


Image courtesy of Pexels



Attending to my blog gets me in steaming hot water, most of the time. And this time it will be no different.

And I definitely do not defend any of my writing. So please, if you know that your heart is a bit weak and the blood flow to your veins is a bit clogged, please do not continue reading.

It is no secret anymore, as per normal human wants and needs; I am experiencing loud knocks mostly from my hormones, and partially from my emotional psyche that I want a solid partner in my life. Well, at my big age of 37, I would regard this as fairly normal.


Not just any man. I want MY MAN, the one piece of the puzzle that would fit me to a T. And trust me this is not a phase, this is REAL REAL. The void is becoming bigger and badder.

Please do not tell me to be patient, pray, and trust the process nor anything else insane.

Just Shut UP Linda OR Donate Your Husband To Me.

Because you people decided to take all the decent men and leave a person here high and dry. Pining away. My feelings are always intense, so imagine, how I am going through these feels, every day.

This is where I actually hope I gave in to the nudge to become a nun.

I do not want a Bennie (Ben 10), also not a Fuck Boy (I am done playing FAM), not a Friend, also not a side dish or a cheating, but a partner. And he will be only mine. Someone who will be my companion. Whom I can sit next to whilst he is watching TV and I will just be there lying on his chest, drinking in his scent. Someone whom I can call incessantly and who calls me incessantly, to irritate each other but also to talk about sweet nothings or plan what we will be having for dinner. Someone who will understand me and love me with all my nicely packaged shit. Yes, I am a shitty woman. However, I am so fucking worth all this shit. Lastly, someone that will understand that I am a sensual Scorpio female, and who can deliver on my sensuality. (Please note, I am not describing anyone in particular here, some people apparently recognise themselves in my writing, lol)

So, I am sure I exuberate some sort of desperation. Maybe I give off a weird smell, I don’t know.

And trust me; I am not giving in to it. I badly want to. I so badly want to.

I could if I wanted too, but I am not. This beggar is going to be meticulous. So, currently I have one or two men bothering me, but unfortunately, none of them tickles me in any way.

Yerr, I do not know what it is with men and not taking no for an answer. As if they literally just take a break from bothering me for a day or two, a week or two, then they start BANG!

I have said NO THANK YOU, so many a times, but aatje, the ears is non-existent.

So I just wrote one of them the following texts:

‘’Hi, Hope you well. Just to clarify and reiterate on the boundaries, I have communicated on numerous occasions. Let us just try to keep our friendship platonic. No weird prompts or convos from you, no late night calls or video calls, no starry eyes, and definitely no I love you’ s, Plse’’.

This time, I am not settling for any kaboutertjie.

I want the ultimate Kabouter.

PS: Kabouter, if you reading this, stop playing and stop making me wait, and come find me Daddy.




‘’Curvy Scorpio’’


Alone in Love

I call a spade a spade; you should now that by now.

So, let us get straight to the point?

I quietly observe, and I am trying to quietly not give my opinion anymore.

Giving my opinion will be a waste of energy because you will follow your vagina anyways.

So you would think, after also being on the bumpy road with the rest of the Single Folk a sister will have your back.

No, they will not.

It is all about them, them and their feelings.

I have seen this happening so many a times.

We literally loose ourselves when we enter a new landmark in our relationship statuses.

And some of you never get yourselves back.

Merely empty shells roaming the streets.

And it is so wrong hey, because the message we are sending out there is, we never knew who we were prior to hooking up with the dude.

So sad hey.

Just like that, you forgot how it felt like to hug your pillow at night.

Just like that, you will not even hook your forever-single sister up with his single friends.

Just like that, you do not want your sister to wake up to 5AM sex.

You want to keep it all to yourself.



We see you.

PS: ‘’Sometimes we get the same shit, just differently packaged, but I am sure we don’t see it for what it is till way later’’


‘’Curvy Scorpio




Cadette Constable

I was huffing and puffing. My chest was so narrow. I felt dizzy and nauseous. I was sure, I was about to die, at the beautiful age of 18.

I had this horrible taste in my mouth that tasted like early stages of blood and vomit, mixed. Please do not ask me how that taste like.


This is how it all happened:

I finished matric, I did fairly well, but I could have done better. Could Have.


In my mother’s words, and in my mother tongue the expression of ‘’jou velle hang nog letterlik aan die draad soos jy deur geskuur het’’ fits the description pretty well. Meaning, I barely made it.

I am not stupid. I just like playing excessively. Until this day. That is what happened in my matric year. And I wonder why my son is always testing the waters. He got it from the mother.

Endless playing – things that would make your testimonial from school look good (we thought we were clever).

School choir, Volley Ball, Sub – Editor of the school newspaper, Head Girl of the SRC, Basket Ball, and a weekend job and off course,

Too many parties, too many activities, too many 112 music, sometimes too much weed.

I know, I know, we were just experimenting.

We thought if we smoked, we would remember everything we studied, big lies that we were sold. I just thank God, that it never became an addiction.

I leave it at that.

My parents were divorced, there were no funding for university and I told myself, there is no way in hell I am manning this changing cubicle at Edgars with a Grade 12 certificate in my hands and have idle chats with people who would think they are better than me.

So I resigned. It was my weekend and holiday job for 2 years.

And I decided to travelled Namibia for a few weeks, until I became penniless.

I called home and heard that the police were recruiting, and I threw in my CV. Not really sparing another thought towards it. Until I got the call one day, three months later. Yeah, yeah, government backlog.

Fast Forward, to the intro.

Six months of being idle, I was summoned to Police College.

I had eight bags, yep 8. Last-born and Mammas girl so she had to make sure I have everything I needed.

As we pulled up to the entrance of the Police College, Police Officers, men and woman were waiting on us, with expressionless faces and sweat on their brows and when the bus came to a halt, we were told to get the f… off the bus and take our belongings and run the few metres to the college, metres yes, but it felt like hundreds of hundreds of kilometres, because the Queen was unfit and obese…how I passed their medical tests I have no idea, but I suspect a bit of Affirmative Action was involved in their decision to recruit me, because the Queen looks white and has German names and a surname.

They had to have a few yellow bones for statistical purposes and they decided to take the cockiest of yellow bones to complete the puzzle, I think.

Some hours of military, shenanigans ensued, running, rolling in sand, drilling, jumping, I do not know what. You ended up fainting and getting back up and if you dare to play sick you would be walking around mimicking an ambulance and you would had to make that sound as well, pie pong pie pong, and I don’t know what was worse, the physical punishments or the ambulance mimicking. And I am sure all these instructors were laughing their hearts out later about all of this.

After hours of this dreadfulness, we were told to go to the eating hall, the girl behind me fainted of exhaustion and hunger and I don’t know what else, most probably also just a mental breakdown, this college was a huge shock and disappointed to many.

As I turned around to help her, I was told if I do not want to be shot, I should leave her to die. Imagine. They were ruthless.

The fear they tried to instil in us back then, boy oh boy. And they succeeded.

So we headed into the eating hall and the food, wow, was not even appeasing. I refused to eat it, samp and meat I think with sauce. By then the Queen did not even know what samp was.

I sat for a while and I finally got the guts to get up in my pair of Levi’s – Levi’s was a thing back then, ask them.

By then we did not yet have the training uniform. I walked out, attempted to scrape the food into the dustbin and suddenly someone asked: ‘’hallo meisie, kan ek maar jou kos kry, ek is baie honger nog?’’, (hi girly, can I have your food I am still hungry?) naturally I froze at hello, but I sort of unfroze at the rest of the sentence, hearing the husky male voice, I thought I was in shit again and would be punished, but he was a fellow student, also a yellow bone, and I guess when I looked at him, I looked at him with very sad and eyes filled with regret in my huge hazel brown eyes and he asked; ‘’is it your first time from home and I nodded’’, because the moment was too big for me, and he said, come here, let me hug you, everything will be alright. From today onwards, I will look after you. I was so relieved, I trusted him immediately. He had the most open face I have ever seen, with a perfect set of white teeth, an almost angelic smile, he laughed from the pit of his tummy and it was so contagious. He was naturally handsome, someone I would look at twice in another setting.

Years later, I still imagine this is what it must feel like to fall in love eventually, looking someone straight in the eye and knowing, where you ought to belong. I have been looking for that feeling, but it has never visited me again.

And that was the beginning of a long and beautiful friendship. Where he was, I would be, and vice versa.

We became inseparable. And no one was allowed to come close to me without his consent.

We would have huge fights and silent wars, but in the end, we would make up again, as friends.

He passed away three years later, horrifically.

And it broke my soul, and it broke my heart too.

It broke my entire humanity. Today is his birthday. 11 March 2019.

And I just had to visit memory lane. He would have been 38 years old today.

I will Always, Always, Love You.

I often wish you were around, so I can ask you to be my husband, that is if you were not orig enough to do it yourself already.

I have never found any other that could fill your shoes.

My Gold amongst Men.








Monday Times Two

If Tuesday was a human being, it must have been an evil stepsister or brother, or mother in law.

Yikes. Did I just type that?

I detest Tuesday’s, it is always much worse than a Monday.

Everything feels so hopeless and endless and I feel extra, super-duper lonely.

And menopausal. Which I AM DEFINITELY NOT.


Which I am MOST of the time ABSOLUTELY.

So, let me tell you about my Tuesday.

I woke up at 02h30AM this morning and I could not sleep anymore.

They say 03h00AM is the devils hour, he is actively busy, and so I reverted to praying.

I eventually fell asleep at 04h00AM again, having to wake up in an hour or two.

I woke up a few minutes before my alarm’s tone went off and I was crying so loudly, whiling like a baby.

Imagine, at my big age.

Why, I had an awful dream. As if really awful, and I already told you I dream in 3D.

The same passion that my feisty personality has, the same passion and intensity is in my dreams, always.

My eyes were literally wet of me crying in my sleep.

The last time I cried myself from slumber, mum passed away soon after.

So thus, let me not relay my dream.


So that is how my Tuesday started.

Deprived from sleep.

Paper work straight from the red tape hell and a colleague who was on a teleconference call with his office door wide open and on loudspeaker even.

Where is the consideration with these millennials nowadays?

One could hear everything that was meant for him only and this in an open office set up.


Now Tuesday has seen its ass.

And I am heading home. Let us hope for a better Wednesday.


Curvy Scorpio