A Moleskin Notebook

Let us not make any mistake about the fact that I am a Daddy’s girl. When he asked me some time ago if I would help him at a monthly collectors fair, I agreed...and then promptly forgot about it. Until two days ago, when I received a phone call reminding me. I was horrified when I was told what time I had to report for duty.  

I literally fell out of bed on Saturday morning, absolutely desperate to get to a hysterical alarm clock, which was screaming at me that it was six o’clock. My not yet recovered bottom protested about all these sudden movements, and as a result, one or two expletives did send sleepy cats scattering. I do vaguely recollect having a shower, getting dressed and driving to the other side of Johannesburg. The mother’s only comment when she saw my  face on arrival was “I will make you some coffee,” while the father was already pacing impatiently...destroying a good piece of grass in the process.

A couple of hours on - unable to stop yawning, a tender bottom protesting about being placed on what must be the hardest chair in the universe, persuading  very reluctant facial muscles to smile politely at people, I was not a happy child. I was in amidst what can only be termed politely as the approved meeting place for the most bizarre collection of, and I am making an assumption here, people, that I have ever seen.

Nevertheless, I am a firm believer in the simple philosophy that one’s word is one’s honour. Consistent honesty and integrity do not only ensure self-respect, but it also shows an amount of respect to others. That is  why, on a Saturday morning, where other sane people have not yet moved a toe, never mind a bottom, I was stumbling around with eyes barely opened, bitterly cursing my fate.  And, alas, as demonstrated, my moral convictions are also the cause of many of my woes.  

My problem is not in so much that I am unable to lie or deceive, but my extraordinary talent for guilt. One then has to add the fact that I know exactly when I was in the wrong as well. These two factors together have resulted many a times, that I cannot even reach the stage of looking guilty, because by this time, I had blurted the truth out a long time ago. On the flip side of the coin, there are the two very, very small issues regarding my slight stubbornness and near absent temper, which in my opinion I do rather handle well when left to my own devices.

Which brings me to Nick, a moleskin notebook, and my utter desire to demonstrate to him how a South African woman can build a fire, which a couple of thousand years ago, would have had the Neanderthals worshipping me. I remember telling him a couple of months back a story that I heard about a gentleman that conducts disciplinary sessions, and where there are distance issues, he would meticulously record the crimes and note the  punishments due at  the next meeting. I should have seen the warning signs – the way his eyes lit up, the smile, but I was so engrossed in my storytelling, that I only realised after a while, that he is asking way to many questions, and even though desperately trying to back pedal, I knew was too late.

He is now the proud owner of a moleskin notebook, which was gleefully displayed to me on the day of purchase. Not only did I have to look at it, I even had to mumble words in agreement that it is indeed quite impressive looking, and trust me, I knew it was not the appropriate moment to practise the expression of “The truth will set you free”.

In the period that the poor mole had lost its skin, and a tree was no longer more, I have tried my very best to refrain from sharing any minor, and you cannot even regard them as newsworthy, incidents I did have. I have also tried to be on best behaviour, but sadly, I have to report, there are a couple of scribbled lines already recorded.

And in less than two weeks, I have to try to convince him that the “FINE!” text he received was only due to the phone all of sudden only having capital letters available. And that same phone then had an unexplained battery failure for a couple of hours. (And I do not have any idea why he would think the phone had a sudden impact with the opposite wall in my office).

I am still working on some ideas for the other recorded infractions, but time seems to running out.  Unless I can perfect my skills as a fire starter with the moleskin notebook as the first offering,  I have no doubt that the only heat I am going to feel will be in the region of my bottom.