Monthly Archives: March 2024

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Smartphone Is Now Properly Dead

“It won’t switch on at all. It looks like a dog’s breakfast.”

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

March 15, 2024

Look, it held on for a good two years of bumps, bangs, falls into tiles, grubby little people‘s fingers, spilled tea, and even a bit of Bovril that someone had so kindly spilled and camouflaged on the granite countertop. It even hung on as the glass protector cracked, and chipped away and then the screen started to chip away, too. It’s a good thing not many people phone thanks to the invention of instant messaging because if they did, there was always a chance of getting glass pieces in my ear. Yes, it was that bad.

I’ve had a few phones I had to leave in rice overnight for leaked water bottles or similar things. I even had a joke about who fixed the phone while it lay in the rice all that time, but I was reprimanded about it not being PC and I won’t repeat it.

When I worked in South Korea, I ate rice every day at school. Kimchi, too, of which there are thousands of varieties. In my second year in the land of Samsung, I decided to get with the programme. Everyone has a smartphone! So, in 2013 I got one, too. A Galaxy S2 with a dark purple cover.

It was a whole new world, especially discovering the phenomenal camera (it was cutting edge at the time). We could travel just with a smartphone and still get amazing pictures of everything along the way! Who knew? So convenient. It seems so archaic a decade later. Now, you can probably just blink and your TokTik robot will automatically bedazzle it, turn it into a video, and post it for three million perfect strangers to put thumbs on.

My dying phone could do everything I needed it to, especially capture my babies’ funny faces, milestones, and everything else. Since my camera still worked and I didn’t have much free time on my hands, I held on. I also don’t like to waste good money on expensive things when it’s my fault they need replacing. It’s not even close to my birthday. So, I eked out every bit of battery life until the end and kept taking those pictures and videos of my sweet boys.

Now, though, it is dead. Properly dead. It won’t switch on at all. It looks like a dog’s breakfast. How lucky that Mom and Dad have a spare one I could use until I get my act together. I can keep taking pictures. I can keep writing silly stories with just my thumb.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Rose Bush Is Free of Triumphant Vine

“The vine branches are the same colour and thickness as the rose branches, minus the spiny thorns that go right into tender fingers or arms.”

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

March 2, 2024 

That vine has come up again. The one with big leaves that grow right over my rambling rose. It twists and clings, dropping new roots as it goes. If I leave it any longer, it’s going to get those seed pods again, which is the reason it came up again this year, I’m sure.

Today, when I looked out of the kitchen window for the umpteenth time to admire my little pink roses, I couldn’t even see the bush! The vine looked triumphant. So, I left the housework, the children, the paid work, and the tea and marched outside to collect my boots, slasher and gloves. I’d had enough of that old vine.

Don the Gloves and Go For It

The gloves are an essential feature for me in this thorny, hand-slicing garden of mine. There are all sorts of stinging things, too. One day I felt something tickle my leg and swiped a bit. As I looked down there was just blood. I thought I’d squashed the fly, but it was my own blood that the nasty fly was apparently having for lunch [insert horrified emoji here]. The scar stuck around for two weeks.

The boots look ridiculous, but they’re for the night adders. Rather, I like to think of them for the night adders and not think about all the other, much worse, slithery things my feet might step on while I’m knee-deep in grass or blackjacks.

Watch Out For the Spikes and Fangs

Careful of what you grab onto. Vine snakes look like branches, and so do female boomslangs. Actually, a lot of snakes look just like branches, or leaves, or the pesky weeds that grow long tendrils over everything and push my poor plants flat down on the ground. I’m constantly pulling those out. They get little white flowers with a purple centre that are actually quite pretty, but don’t let them fool you; they take over in a matter of weeks.

With my trusty boots and gloves on, I dealt with the vine. My rose is free, though it didn’t thank me. The vine branches are the same colour and thickness as the rose branches, minus the spiny thorns that go right into tender fingers or arms. Talk about biting the hand that feeds you. At least I can see the pink blooms again.

Summer is almost over already, and the green beauty will soon disappear for a few months. Next season, hopefully, I’ll be a little more proactive about that vine earlier in the season so that I don’t have to spend an hour in the rain getting eaten by horseflies. Or maybe I’ll just have tea on the porch instead.

Published here.