Life Quest (and other stuff)

Nice!* I would like to think that I am a nice person. Yes, there are times that I am not moon beams and cheese curls, but in general I think I am nice. It seems however that being called nice has almost turned into an insult of late. In movies, the “nice” guy seldom gets the girl. “That’s nice” often is used as a sarcastic remark. “It’s nice” almost borders on meaning mediocre in day to day conversation. The truth – being nice is something great, something to aspire to. When did the world become all about standing ovations and gold medals? Why do we often feel there are no points for second best? And why do we believe that being nice is second rate? (I have a theory on why I sometimes fall into this trap, but I would like you to figure this out for yourself.) So let’s go back to basics, the dictionary. Here follows a few definitions of the word “nice:” pleasant or pleasing or agreeable in nature or appearance decent: socially or conventionally correct; refined or virtuous...

(Ode - according to en.wiktionary.org: A short poetical composition proper to be set to music or sung; a lyric poem; esp., now, a poem characterized by sustained noble sentiment and appropriate dignity of style. So apart from the sentiment this isn't really an ode at all. Oh well. ) Yesterday I watched my weekly fix of Grey’s Anatomy and House. Both shows referred to Thanks Giving. Now, here in SA we don’t celebrate a specific Thanks Giving day, but as we are approaching Easter, I figure today is as good a day as any to count my blessings. And as so many times before there is one “thing” that often comes to the foreground. Hubbie. Hubbie and I have been married for about six and a half years. And looking back over this time, it confirms we have a good life together. Both of us have grown over the years, for the better I believe. We have grown together, grown closer. There is a problem though. I can’t tell him about anything that I want, coz he will make a plan to get it for me. Oka...

I don't have much to say today. Well I do, but saying it will dilute what I really want to say, which is: Thank you. Thank you to hubbie's mom and brother for getting up at 2 in the morning to come assist us where our car broke down last night. Thank you to the police that stopped and asked if we where all right. Thank you for taking hubbie to the petrol station to see if he could get help there. And thanks for bringing him back. Thank you to the traffic department who stopped behind us and alerted traffic when the car trouble escalated and we ended up with no electric power (i.e. no lights) while the rain poured down. Thanks to those same traffic cops for staying with us and who in the end had to push start hubbie's mom's car (don't ask), after the tow truck has already left with our car and my hubbie. And thanks to my 1 year old little boy, who behave so well in the chaos that surrounded us. Thank you to you all. You made what could have been a horrible night, bea...