Class Work

We had to find our own unique way of saying the following:

1. peas in a pod -   as indistinguishable as twins dressed by a fanatical mother
2. Busy as a bee - as busy as a standard bank employee wearing takkies on payday
3. Flatter that a pancake - flatter than a fly after an encounter with an experienced fly swatter
4. High as a kite -  she was so high that NASA considered funding a space programme.

Describe a voice:
I heard her voice clearly over the banging, crashing and beeping noise in the supermarket. I looked around to see if I could find the source of this ear assaulting sound. The pitch was similar to that if a cat being run over by a steam roller and it appeared that the owner of this reverberation had only managed to capture some of the alphabet as she seemed unable to pronounce any T's or H's correctly.

The View
The green desert of uninvited but now needed pine trees spread out before me in tidy patchwork spaces in the far reaching hills of Howick; The smoke from distant farm fires defused  the scene leaving a monotone haze.
The winter fresh breeze was intermittent as if it wasn't really sure if it should hurry up or stay put while secluded secret pockets of sunshine provided perfect sun bathing platforms for lazy lizards.

Story - From super model to middle aged by a middle aged ex fashion model

From super model to middle aged by a middle aged ex fashion model

 

 

From super model to middle aged by a middle aged ex fashion model

I started off life as one of those buck teethed, Pole thin, lanky ugly kids ; I stood six foot tall at fourteen years old and my mother who was the worlds worst hair dresser insisted on cutting my thick thatch like hair, which only gave me the appearance of a concentration camp survivor.       

Luckily for me my parents invested in a full set of metal braces to sort out my protruding teeth, I begged my mother to stop cutting my hair and to take me to a real hair dresser which really did help, then with a little push from nature my hips and breasts evolved and by the time I was 16 I wasn’t half bad looking. Having shown no real talent for anything but causing trouble at school my folks decided that as I was so tall, okay looking and not very bright I could be a fashion model.

Next think I knew I was sent off to a modelling school in London for a week and then to a Modelling agency in Spain, where to mine and everyone else’s  total surprise I made a successful career out of modelling and ended up working and travelling all over the world for  nearly 15 years. I retired at the grand old age of 31 feeling very old, tired and worn out.

But in the real world, as opposed to the fashion world which marches to its own ever youthful un-ageing beat, thirty is still considered young; No need to concern yourself with the television adverts which promise that you could look 10 years younger in 7 days if you are prepared to smear some sort of age defying snail goo all over your face. You can still wear wonder bras and skin tight jeans comfortably .You feel sexy, young, in control and immortal.

As I understand the ageing process it is a bit like taking an original document and doing a photocopy; then you take the photocopied document and copy that; then take that copy and copy it again and take that copy and copy it etc. And you will find that by the 20^th copy the writing is dull and has lost some of the original print, it may be a  bit fuzzy around the edges but you can still sort of see what it used to say.

The same happens to the cells in your body, from the moment you are born each cell photocopies itself which then photocopies that cell and the process continues until you die. When you start to go grey it is because your hair cells have basically run out of ink and can no longer copy in colour. Wrinkles are just cells duplicating the way you hold your face most of the day; Did you ever notice that parents with young kids always seem to have a bit of a furrow  wrinkle between their eyebrows? I think this illustrates the constant confusion which young parents are subjected to: You always seem to be scrunching your face up saying something like ‘No’ or ‘because I said so’. It would seem that as your children grow up, so your facial expressions change, you get new wrinkles; great horizontal lines which cross your forehead gained from lifting your eyebrows to the heavens while asking your teenager “What have you done now?”  Or ‘How much?’  You should note that the horizontal lines do cancel out the furrowed wrinkle, but you will be left with permanent laughter lines around your eyes as this is one of the many physical by-products of having children.

Wrinkles are not the only dilemma; sagging skin is an additional quandary. While pottering around the farm on my motor bike one beautiful sunny afternoon; with the wind blowing through my hair and the sound track from the movie easy rider playing clearly in my head; I felt young and gorgeous, then I notice a movement in my peripheral vision, to my horror it was the back of my upper arms which were flapping in the wind! Shocked and frightened I slam on brakes and came to a screeching halt, ‘Where has the muscle gone and what is the purpose of this superfluous skin’ I cry, then as the dust settled I realise that anyone who can remember the sound track to easy rider is pretty old and probably should not be making such a scene about a little bit of loose arm skin!

My former super model body now faces its 42^nd year of the cell facsimile process and am definitely showing a some duplicate damage, I  have a forehead filled with wrinkles,  crows feet which wrap their way around the side of my face almost reaching my hair line, all  little gifts from my  darling adolescent! There is the odd grey hair to be found if you look closely and I now wear a bra which comes with shock absorbing abilities rather than push up promises.  I am eternally grateful to the person who invented stretchy Lycra jeans which prevent my now my gravity challenge glutimas maximus from resting on the backs of my knees,  but I remain unsure about the anti wrinkle mollusc slime products – I am not that old yet!

 

Sentence using letters of the alphabet

A Billion Cows Decided Existence Fills Gaps Here In Jolly Kilimanjaro. Life May Not Often Produce Quite Recurring Speculation Though Under-thinking Values Will Xerograph Your Zeal.

Class work 24th May 2011

We each had to create two characters describing their Physical appearance; age; family etc. then we were given a random topic which these two characters were arguing about '- mine was sex and my characters were;
Humphrey the Camel (a 17 year old camel who is sweet but always being teased by his brothers; he works as a pack camel) and Sebastian Willows (23 year old lead singer for a rock band from Toronto and he has a girlfriend called Nat.
Object to write dialogue

Sebastian Willows put down his microphone and stepped down from the stage as Humphrey tumbled into the bar where he was playing.
Humphrey was in a very bad mood as his day had been just too much; 'I am just sick and tired of my brothers' he growled he off loaded his camel pack and plonked himself on a free bar stool.
Sebastian's girl, Nat also noticed Humphrey, as it was not every day that one came across a camel in a bar in Toronto!

The bar man took  Humphrey's order and busied himself behind the counter. Sebastian and Nat approached the camel and introduced themselves and soon the three some where chatting happily.

There was a television in the background; The news presenter was announced breaking news - the President had just passed the new controversial law giving Camels and humans the right to marry.

Humphrey commented that this was great news - Human woman had always held a certain fascination for him.
Sebastian slammed his glass down on the table - Nat and Humphrey jumped. 'It's just not right, not natural he shouted "I mean camels and humans?'
Nat smiled at Humphrey , she privately had always fancied a bit of camel and thought that the law had been pretty harsh on the whole camel / human thing ' Seb!  Chill dude, I mean it's up to the individual really, don't you think?'
Humphrey returned Nat's smile with a wink; the girls always fell for his long eyelashes; 'Times have changed man' he turned back to Sebastien 'and you just gotta move forward with the times or get lost in the past, that's what I say'
'You can not be serious' screamed Sebastian as he roughly grabbed Nats hand and attention.
'Man, I am just saying..."Humphrey grinned as he gently moved his left hind leg closer to Nats under the table and gently began rubbing her calf with his hoof.

My first story printed in Essence of the Midlands Magazine

midlands memories

why vegetarians
CAN EAT
chicken
Words Karen Edwards

Most people become vegetarian for two main reasons:their heath and for the love of all God’s creatures. I was 18 years old when I decided to stop eating meat; being a big animal lover it seemed likea good way to go and
the health thing was just a bonus. I remained a vegetarian for nearly 24 years, feeling that surely my lack of eating meat might have saved hundreds of poor innocent animals.

This way of thinking was all good and well as I had always lived in the city where the only contact I ever had with meat was as I passed the deli section in a supermarket – and then it was always wrapped up in plastic,void of any animal personality.
Then about five years ago I decided to move to the countryside and ended up living on a farm in the Kamberg, complete with all the adorable farm animals, and felt even more justified in my veggie ways.

One day my son went out farming and came home with pockets full of day-old male chickens, so I dutifully made a little home for them and watched the critters grow at an amazing rate.We also organised a few lady chicks and, before we
knew it, had a small population of chickens living in the garden. And our lives had become a living nightmare.

The chickens hated their home so they decided to take up squatting rights on the front patio, where they guarded their territory with military skills,and we were forever being ambushed by a huge male cock who had the most unreal
matrix kick-boxing move, backed by the others all clucking poultry obscenities. The noise was something else. I was always led to believe that chickens only crowed at sunrise, but actually they start at around three in the morning
and continue every 15 minutes until dawn. They will crow at anything for any reason and they are cleverlittle buggers as they always seem to be able find a special spot where the acoustics are particularly fantastic and the crowing
sound really gets to reverberate through and around the house, leaving your ears ringing for hours.

And bigger they got, the more intimidating they got and the bigger their territory got. We resigned ourselves to the fact that the chickens had now completely taken over the entire front of the house while we were left sneaking in and out the through the back door. The dogs were losing weight rapidly as the chickens scared them off and stole their food.
People refused to visit for fear of being attacked – it was like having a group of Columbian drug lords living on your doorstep.

I had always wondered where the term “henpecked” came from, and now I had first-hand experience; if a hen gets sick or has any kind of deformity the other chickens will peck it to death... and I mean death.

Then after about a year of ongoing chicken drama, I arrived home one day to find a chicken on the sofa. It looked so peaceful lying there on its back with its legs in the air. I thought, my Lord, it’s dead! I walked up and leant right over it, trying to figure out how you can tell if a chicken is still breathing, when it woke up. And it screamed. And I screamed. And then there was just chaos, feathers, panic and drama everywhere.

It was then that I lost my cool. I ordered my partner to fix the bird problem. He did, and a few days later he produced the chicken for dinner. Now normally I would have had a fit: oh, the poor little chicken. But before I could chicken out,
I stuffed it, roasted it, and I ate meat for the first time in 24 years – and felt absolutely nothing. So to all you vegetarian animal lovers who truly feel for the fluffy and cute little creatures of the world, understand that chickens are not cute, cuddly or sweet in anyway. They are vicious, evil and just plain nasty animals,and as far as this vegetarian’s
experience of fowls goes, chickens were made to be eaten with gusto, no guilt and veggies on the side.

Olives Unlimited

We were given a basic write up on Jenny Hall from olives unlimited and asked to write an editorial piece:

What started off as a a small hobby, marinating olives for friends and family has now grown into a thriving business "It has been a huge thrill and challenge watching the business grow like it has for the past 15 year's" says Jenny Hall owner of Olives Unlimited.
Jenny's love and passion for food has grown and she had done many food courses over the years, "I take great pleasure in creating products to tantalize the taste bud's" laughs Jenny and with products such as French olives; Greek olives; smoked olives and chilly olives you are sure to find some to satisfy your cravings.
After the success of olives unlimited Jenny moved on to purchase a little company called Bella Melba "I have expanded this business ten times the original size over the past four years and we now produce four flavours of Melba toast; Plain, olive, garlic, and spring onion, and we are very excited to be adding two more flavours to our line by the end of next year'" explains Hall.
Not one to be idle Jenny expanded her world into preparation of fine foods and acquired 'Taste' which produces yummy jams such as olive and sweet chilly jam; chilly ginger jam; just chilly jam; red and white onion marmalade as well as green mazavaroo. "I have got a few new products that I am working on" says Jenny mischievously "But it's all still top secret".
Jenny explains "All our products are packed and  labeled with lots of love and thought, and as suppliers to Woolworths the quality of out products need to be of the highest standard"
Olives unlimited; Bella Melba and Taste produce are sold all over the country. "The Meander; Kwa Zulu Natal; Clarins; Freestate and Port Edward are my strongest markets but I feel privileged and blessed to have these gifts and to share them with South Africa" says Jenny.

The Hand

Our task was to write a short story describing a hand:

The telephone rang and slowly a hand reached out to pick up the receiver; there was a jangle of cheap bracelets and my eye was drawn to the shiny diamante rings that reflected in the light. The skin was soft although you could see from the tiny wrinkles that these hands knew what a hard days work meant. Long plastic blood red nails curled under; hunched as if in stalking mode and ready to be unsheathed at any sign of danger; deadly to the victim. Elegantly the hand completed it journey and delivered the mouth piece to it's owner:
'Hi this is Cindy 0800 sexy phone, what's your pleasure honey?'