Dear Boet

Well I’m sorry I haven’t written for a while. Jeez – I have been so busy. I got promoted! ‘Strues. They now have me at the site office in charge of all the materials going in and out – you know like in the Stores in the Army. Ja – and I got a title now Boet, and a business card! Well you know I swear even the dustbin man in Canada has a business card – and a title nogal! I am not tuning you nonsense here. It’s a big thing, ou boet, let me tell you. So what’s my title? Got to check out my business card again – here it is – Assistant Supervisor, Product Procurement & Management. Jislaaik – that’s a mouthful. Dit bedoel niks nie! Like the other day, here comes this oke into the office, wanting to sell a photocopier. I tune him, Ja-Nee its okay, we got one. Of course, then I had to translate that into Canadian - "We got a photocopier, You betcha!" So he ends up leaving his card (of course) and I see his title is "Document Control Management Consultant". I kid you not, ou Boet.

Anyway, Darlene is chuffed. Says now she doesn’t need to think of getting that evening job at the IGA. She says she does more than enough work anyway with picking up after the slapgats she lives with! Could she be talking about me? I told her if she spent a little more time around the house picking up and a little less time down at that coffee place spending all my money on these larney coffee drinks and cinnamon buns – maybe she wouldn’t have to buy her jeans from Big and Beautiful! Jeez, we had cold bum in the house for a week after that! But you know boet, its true. I told Darlene if she carries on like this she’ll be bigger than old Sophie who used to come and work for Ma. Then she got a real skrik when she heard that – I remember us kids being fascinated by Sophie’s backside – it was so big it had a rhythm all its own.

So its just as well that I have all these mal Canadian friends who come and get me out of the house to do these crazy Canadian things – like curling. Boet, let me tell you that at first you think this is worse than ice fishing. Its like playing bowls – on the ice. Maar wag, it gets worse! They use brooms to sweep the ice in front of the "rock" – Jeez, I don’t know why. As if one of these blerry heavy concrete things would be bothered about a little shave of ice in the way. Try dropping one of those things on your foot! Eina! I think the reason they have the brooms is just so they can get some exercise running across the ice, shouting and screaming! Boet, the noise. Its vreeslik! Worse than going to a rugby game – and that’s just the beginning! Its after the game that the real nonsense starts – all these okes in the pubs from all over these little prairie towns – wearing funny hats and drinking themselves witless. I tell you what – its blerry good fun but I still don’t know what the hell’s going on!

Till next time, your loving,