Cool Potatoes

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	COOL POTATOES Rosa's Street In Tulbagh  I have never understood the meaning of Cool Potatoes, but suffice it to say that anything cool right now will be welcome. Rosa took a huge leap of faith at the end of last year (the reason why it has been so veeeery quiet from this quarter) and moved itself - and the Rosa family - to the Cape.  People said to me "you are very brave" and I did not quite get that part.  But hey man. Never a truer phrase was uttered.First let's talk about the heat?  Do you know that it rises to 45 degrees Celsius on the stoepie of Rosa's new residence and this is at 17.30 in the afternoon!  38 degrees is a normal day, 30 degrees is relatively cool.  In my beloved Jozi, 30 degrees had me and the rest of the town sweltering, but at least at night it cooled down.  See? That word again "cool"?  People say it is like living in an oven here; I say try the hob!         Victorian House in Church Street Now let's talk about cool as in it's cool to be hep?  Nope.  No cool cats or potatoes here.  Not a one.  A sense of humour would be nice, never mind cool.   The other evening I was parking off on the stoep with a glass of red wine clutched in my hand. "Clutched" being the operative word.  Come 19.00 I am drooling for that glass of squashed and fermented grapes.  Fortunately, there is absolutely no shortage of red wine in this region and that indeed is very cool.  But back to the stoep.  My chair was behind the pomegranate tree so at first glance I was not immediately to view.  I heard a flop and looked up to see the stalwart of the street, a woman of about 65, land from her flight over the fence of the house diagonally across the street.  Some background.  Rosa has taken up residence in Church Street, Tulbagh (originality is also not huge down here; the street has a church) and for those in the know and here I am guessing about -5% of anyone reading this, Church Street in Tulbagh is the longest Museum street in the whole of SA.  Every single house is either a Cape Dutch number dating back to the 1700s, or a Victorian Jenny-come-lately circa late 1800s early 1900s.  It is indeed a most impressive street and the reason why Rosa chose to have a presence in this particular street.  Tourists trail up and down the street daily and the idea is to divert them into the Voorkamer of this 1798 abode that now houses Rosa's Cape Office.  But back to the leap.  The stalwart, as with everyone else in this street, is fiercely protective of Church Street and has taken upon herself the policing of said street.  I.e. she snoops around ensuring that all is as it should be.  But here's the thing, when I say "flew" not only did she look as though she was auditioning for Swan Lake, she was clutching a bucket just as ardently as I my glass of red wine!The garden that she exited from and whose owner lives in Cape Town and visits only at weekends, is the nicest in the street by far.  It is what I (and Home & Garden) call a prairie garden.  Beautiful, tall flowering plants abound and in honestly I have been circling the place myself wondering if I could perhaps snip a little something from it and grow it on the terrace here.  Anyhow Madam Swan who laughs loudly every time she disapproves of something you say, which with us Gauties is basically every word we utter, was caught red-wined stealing a bucket full of slips from this wonderful garden. I nearly fell off my chair laughing at this lady with grey hair clearing a fence that even the crooks in town (and there are several, not dangerous ones, just normal crooks) find challenging. I have since been informed that the leap was not prompted by adrenalin, but because she was an actual ballet dancer in her day! When she spotted me and my wine glass she twirled her hand and high tailed it back down the road!  Perhaps to those reading this it is not funny? But when put together with the rest of the townsfolk one starts to think one has landed in in Wonderland......the place that Alice visited? For eg, the man next door lives in a demi -mansion of French design and keeps actual Rembrandts and other antiquities.  He is filthy rich but apart from the size, the outer appearance of the house belies this fact.  He has been ejected from every single committee that has ever been formed in Tulbagh.  I wondered why because charming is not the word.  Look, he is as antique as his furniture and paintings but he is most certainly charming.  Wait the Tulbagh veterans said tell us that two months  from now. It took precisely two weeks for me to start leopard crawling out of the front of the house in the evenings to avoid detection.  Call me nuts, but I am sure the man has a mirror positioned just so, which allows him to keep cavy on this much lower down in the pecking order residence.  You see, whilst I am indeed in much need of Rosa's anti-aging serums, oils and cleansers, to this person I am like How-could-I-be-so-lucky-to-have-a-blond-younger-woman-move-in-next-door?  Who, according to his well-honed masculine ego (this never gets old by the way) was just waiting to fold and become the latest in a long line of escapee consorts . Once detected, I had two options, 1) take flight (see above) 2) play hostess, because once spotted my spotter would march down his front steps, swing a left and march decisively in my direction. But since I battle to fly onto a horse these days in one go, it was the latter option that was open to me. I would be trapped on the stoep for hours and hours and hours.  The alternative was to sidle past him, run inside and slam the door in his face.  And even for one such as me, that is rude!       Guest House in Church Street Aside from the antique collector, whose 5 cats I thought were a new breed of Siamese they are so thin,  and the stalwart we have a collection of rather nice guest houses and self-catering establishments which are filled with Capetonians (from the city an hour away) most weekends.  There are a few restaurants too, that sport blackboards outside their eateries with "Best Hamburger in South Africa"written in pink chalk, or "Rack of Ribs or R49.00".  Weeeeeeh, I wail in self-pity.  And those restaurants in 4th Avenue, Parkhurst I thought I was over?  I fantasize about the awesome menus, and the awesome people.  People who are game to try anything new and who keep the eateries edgy and interesting?  And people, I hasten to add, who could not give a rat's bottom about what is happening at the table next to theirs!  Oh how I miss Johannesburg.  And please do believe me when I say this place is unbelievably, unbelievably beautiful.  So beautiful it hurts to look at it.  Which gives me the chance to launch into the adage "beauty is as beauty does".   It is rather like a beautiful woman, you know.  Who has had so much praise and adoration thrown her way all her life that she plain forgot to get a personality?  This place is stunningly beautiful.  You look out the front door, mountains.  You sit in the orchard in our garden below the house, mountains.  You stroll under the oak trees in the same garden  - mountains.  You saunter past the grape vines  - more mountains. And you take a swim in the evenings in the huge lake that has mountains as a backdrop on one side and vineyards on the other.  Once upon a time I read an article about the Cape wherein the journo said that people living in the Cape believed they were living in a magazine.  Now isn't that the truth?  They do, and they are.  To add to this, my sister was telling me of an article written recently by another Jozi  journo who tongue in cheek asked the question why?  Why do Capetonians rate their city so?  If they left it to us (Gauties) we would level Table Mountain and put up a development, she wrote.  Tee Hee.  Just IMAGINE?                            Little Church at Monpellier Wine Estate, Tulbagh The dogs are loving it here though.  They have a 2.2 hectare garden just across the street in which to hunt guinea fowl and chase peacocks. In this street, one has to cross a strip of tar to reach one's garden??  They (the dogs) also make mock charges from the stoep each evening as the townsfolk perform their nightly constitutions.  I try to explain to the pained expressions that the dogs are used to living behind very high walls so for them it is such a treat to have people to chase?  It kind of doesn't wash and we are finding that the nightly strollers are diverting to Van der Stel Street instead.  Which means that the fat Jacqueline Russell and her brother, Stavros, sit in anticipation of irritating the townsfolk only to find that the number of townsfolk to irritate has dwindled.   Before moving on from the two over-indulged dogs, I must tell you that Jacqui is on a course of cortisone to sort out  her chronic bronchitis, acquired while living in Dullstroom  (See the picture of winter in Dullstroom below).  This has given her such a voracious  appetite that I keep thinking I somehow acquired a stuffed dog that looks exactly like Madam Jacqueline, which stuffed dog is part of the kitchen bric-a-brac, because there parking on the new Persian mat in front of the fireplace is this rotund, motionless little irritation.  At first one is so attuned to the sight that one overlooks its presence but a warbling starts up that progresses into a loud yodeling and then to sharp, lion-cub coughs.  She is waiting for whatever lives in that fridge, you see, and the rug has been put there to make her vigil comfortable.  I swear she is part Garfield.  Winter in Dullstroom I could go on and on and on but I shall try not to.  There was a reason for the reverse of Die Groot Trek and while the emotions are to the fore, the motivation behind the move is still there. From a business point of view it made sense to launch to the Wafties.  I.e. the Organics.....  And this has been a sound decision.  In Johannesburg people are results driven, in the Cape they are guided by the two "Cs" Conscience and Common Sense.  The high temperatures we experience here are due in part to the global climate change and people down here take that rather seriously.  Every supermarket has a choice of free range offerings.  And there are organic farms all over the place.  We were driving back from Cape Town on Sunday and I noticed a sign that said Organic Bemestings.  You see, I exclaimed.  They even have different words down here!  Only to find myself looking rather foolish when it was explained to me that "bemestings" means fertilizer or plant dressing.  It does not mean Organic Bees!  Talking about Afrikaans though. They do indeed speak it differently down here.  It seems to be they use bigger words and I haven't a living clue what is being said to me half the time.  I have a lady help me around the place and I foolishly suggested that she speak to me only in Afrikaans.  I have NO idea what she is saying.  Apart from the accent which is challenging in itself, she speaks "high" Afrikaans.  I am left staring at her blankly and she has to grope around for the English word.  But I will get there I guess, although I am sure I know more Russian than I do Afrikaans (al la my Russian friend).  I cannot understand my problem?? It may have something to do with coming from Durban originally. Our second language down there was Zulu. Eons ago, my cousin was even sent home from his first day at school because he spoke only Zulu. The teacher said send that little Zulu home and only when he can speak English, let him come back!  His nickname was Bheki and he had red hair, but unless you spotted the red hair you would have had him pinned for a Zulu for sure.  Not uncommon in KZN actually.  In the olden days when they had telephone exchanges in the country areas, the farmers would chat amongst themselves in Zulu so that the person on the exchange could not understand what was being said.  In Tulbagh it used to be completely Afrikaans but there has been a huge influx of foreigners.  People like us, from the North and people from further North, Europe. You would think there was a funny smell under their noses when the locals refer to the Northerners.  The farmers down here go back generations you see and work their butts off on their farms.  Nowadays, according to one farmer whose family has been farming in the area for 4 generations, the Northerners come down here and build fancy storerooms and pay the farm labourers  above the going rate. I went without help for the whole of last year because I just could not find one single person who actually wanted to work in that Mpumulanga town we spent time in. I tried out someone recommended but she came to me three weeks after starting and gave me back my key and asked for her i-moppy. (she had brought her own mop) No unpleasantness, she just plain gapped it. So I really do not know myself now that I have help again. It frees me up to do SEO (Search Engine Optimisation) work which I have been avoiding because it is such a time consuming task and so terrifyingly dull.  It is like watching paint dry.  Well it seems as though I did indeed go on and on and on.  There is just so very much to say when one has moved countries.  The good and the bad. The good, and there is plenty that is good here, is that the infrastructure is amazing.  The switchboard at the Municipality actually answers in 3 rings. The police are on the ball and chase after thieves.  The Vet calls to find out how your dog is doing on the meds she prescribed and tells you about a moonlight horse ride happening over the weekend.  Telkom actually is switched on and they too answer their depot phones. The roads are being fixed at the moment and I do not see any evidence of a Toll gantry.  And all of this in the middle of beautiful wine estates and mountains?  So forgive me for sounding like a brat at the beginning of this dispatch.  I am just homesick.  Very, very homesick. The Cow Shed..... Up North...weeeeh! OK, now to the part I should always start with but never to.  ROSA!  I have been thinking that perhaps I should write a grown up newsletter that deals only with Rosa Organics so that I can get some actual mileage out of these indulgences of mine?   I break all the rules in the book when it comes to business missives when I start tapping away at the key board.  Mind you, I do get mileage because for some reason people read these silly writings and get to the part that matters, Rosa's awesome brands! Here are some Rosa news-bites for those who have missed us?       Johannesburg has not been abandoned and Marian Kruger is now our regional representative in Gauteng. Her details are on the website but for ease of reference you can get her on marian@rosaorganics.com or 072 204 6036.        The postal service is still doing it stuff and orders sent from here take a day or so less than they did before.  We are also filling in the postal slip which is facilitating the process so much more efficiently.  We found that some Joburg post offices were not always putting slips in the boxes.       Silhouette with Grapefruit is on special at the moment.  It is a fab product for the body because it contains citrus oils that are good for getting rid of adipose tissue (those wobbly bits).  Including postage you can get a 100ml bottle at R330.00.  Stocks are limited though so get in touch quickly if you are keen.         Everyone who is used to ordering directly from Rosa will still be able to do so by the way.  Marian is handling new business and anyone of you who finds the concept of Cape (don't blame you) too far away!       Ta Ra.....Drum roll!!!!  We are re-launching Rosa in this year to beauty Eds and salons!   The time is right to go back into retail outlets for those of you who prefer walking into a shop.  There will still be a price advantage of shopping directly with us and waiting the four to five days it takes, but the convenience of shopping  at a local salon must not be overlooked.       The relaunch will coincide with the re-stock that is in the bag at the moment.  We restock annually because we do not carry stock for long periods. The shelf life is exceptional.  3 to 4 years unopened, but just the same, we like to be on top of our game.       Rosa Protege is making its formal debut this year.  We piloted a 10ml roll on of this amazing product and the success was quite outstanding.  Not surprising really when one considers that it is a moisturizer, sun screen and anti-oxidant all rolled into one, and the best part it is entirely natural.  No dodgy ingredients at all (a la some of the sun screens out there). And there you have it.  Rosa has moved again.  I have to say this one is a biggie and whilst I loved Dullies to start and hated it at the end, the reverse applies here.  Which all means that it is the right move indeed.  So often we run before we can walk and since running anywhere was completely out of the question in this appalling heat, I decided to wait it out a few months before writing to tell the world what we had done.  In closing may I ask if there is anyone out there who is au-fait with SEO? Remember I once said that I would be happy to promote any of Rosa's followers who needed a boost? Well now we are looking for someone to assist with search engine optimization? Have a wonderful March and I promise to be primed and ready for the rest of this year!                                                 Warmest Wishes                                                               Lynn Schultz  www.rosaorganics.com

STAP SEUN

Can you teach an old(er) mare new tricks?  Let’s see!

With the arrival of marginally warmer weather…. I.e. 8  degrees at 08.00 instead of minus 8,  the fat bits concealed under thick jumpers, pullovers and jackets put in an unwelcome appearance.  All through the disgustingly cold winter I would say to myself “as the wales do in Antarctica , so do I”  Which of course was carte blanche to eat my way through the days and nights with the excuse that I needed energy.  The little one, alias Jacqueline Russell, had a similar philosophy and the two of us blossomed into something resembling a grub (me) and a rugby ball (she).  So come what passes for Spring in this Alpine Climate, we turned all the mirrors to the wall and continued the pastime we had so got to enjoy.  Eating!  But the fudging exercise did not last because whilst I could hide myself from myself, I could not hide the rugby ball with four legs that parked off on the floor grinning at me.  And so it was that we found a small mountain just out of town to exercise the rugby ball, and a horse by the name of Charlie Brown, to exercise me.

Now let me hasten to explain that I first started riding when I was 8 years old and have always considered myself to be an above average horse rider so my reason for taking riding lessons was for the sole purpose of losing the blubber, not to learn anything.  I mean what could you teach me?  (sic).  Try Afrikaans in the first instance!  Do not be fooled by the name Charlie Brown. This little chap understands only Afrikaans .  So when I boomed in my most posh horsey cadence “Walk On” and Charlie Brown just blinked, I wondered if he was perhaps hard of hearing.  Next thing I hear “STAP SEUN” from behind me and off we set.  I collapsed in a heap of giggles because I was mortified that the horse could speak Afrikaans whereas I battle a bit. 

I digress.  What can you teach me?  HUH.  I arrive with my posh leather gloves, French riding boots and skinny jeans ready to leap on and show the instructor just how good I am and what happens instead?  I get handed a curry comb?-  No way!  You are not serious I say to myself!  I mean I haven’t groomed a horse since who knows when?. Charlie Brown, who looks exactly like a horse called Legend who scraped me off his back once upon a time and put me on my back for a week, rolled one eye at me and flattened his ears.  “All my students have to groom the horse first” Says Ninke.  So groom the horse is what I did.  And actually it was a pretty good idea indeed.  You kind of form a bond with a horse you have to help with his ablutions! 

      But when it came to riding, the laugh was most definitely on me.  Riding styles have changed quite considerably from when I was 8!  I had to start from the beginning and boy did I creak. Touching toes while on a horse’s back, standing in the stirrups while the fellow chuffs around the arena are exercises for those who have not spent winter munching away or curled up like a tennis ball against the cold.  But the part that had my hairdresser hooting  with laughter when I regaled the story of my first lesson, was how, when told I had to learn a new riding style, I was tempted to say  “Look sweetie, I know how to ride, just perfect what I know”  But, as the words formed on my tongue I suddenly thought of the age thing.  I mean there is NOTHING in the world more aging that not wanting to learn new tricks.  So rather than reveal my age to this proficient young instructor, I said “show me how!”

  

 

So if I may impart a little wisdom on this Friday, do not close your mind to new ideas.  One can learn something every, single day.  Take the veld fires here as another example?  All through winter the countryside was on Fire Alert.  The first rains come and still we have fires?  Bigger ones?  I am super puzzled.  Until someone says to me now the danger season is over, they are burning to improve the grazing. I knew that!!!?  But I am a little concerned.  The walk the dogs and I now take in the morning is up a small mountain just on the edge of town.  (See reference to Rugby Ball above).  It is a superb walk.  We wind our way right to the top on a well-developed track and each morning we greet three Blesbok Rams.  But they have burned one side of the mountain and now we no longer see the Blesbok.  The Reedbuck too, seem to have gapped it. I tell myself they are safe and grazing on another part of this mountain and since I am seldom wrong, that is where they are!

At the top of the mountain (Okay, Koppie, but it is a “Kop” to my mind it is veeery  high) there is a panoramic view and one ponders the beauty that abounds.  It is uplifting and uplifting.   The second uplifting is the tucking of the rugby ball under the arm because the panting noises from ground level and small beetle eyes gazing at one imploringly are hard to ignore!  Slowly, slowly catch a monkey. We will all get fit yet.

On this note allow me to wish you an exceptionally happy weekend.  And if you need to stock up on Rosanique or any of her cousins, drop me a line on lynn@rosaorganics.com.  The postal services works a bomb! 

 Sincerely, Lynn Schultz http://www.rosaorganics.com/. 083 453 0220

Smoking Gun For Rosa

Would you agree that this has been the most terrifyingly cold winter ever?  I mean it is so darn cold that my one and only pair of thermal PJs have me sitting next to them as they are hung out to dry.  You know how you baste a chicken? Well, so too do I turn and scrunch my PJs so that they are warm and ready to wear again that night.  In fact, so often have they been draped over this bod of mine that I am starting to look like a chair that needs re-upholstering.

BUT, the VEEERY good part to this terrifyingly cold winter is that there is smoke coming out of the barrel of the Rosa Gun! My goodness are we pumping!  The orders are coming in at such a rate that Ismael at the post office is thinking of getting in a special person just for us.You see, Rosa Serums and Oils whilst known for their remarkable, anti-ageing properties are simply stunning in adverse weather conditons.  Such as are found in deserts (we have two customers in Libya.... well, we hope we still have 2 customers in the Libyan Desert) and the climatic conditions in the coldest of cold places - Jozi!  You see, whilst Dullstroom dips to minus at night, it is a sort of bearable cold. Jozi on the other hand has a bone crunching cold that is unlike anywhere else.  Marginally higher temps mean nothing. Dry cold is like dry ice.  Your skin kind of peels away to the touch.  Know what I mean?  Tarrrrah (trumpet call)... and along comes Rosa Organics Serums & Oils to the rescue.  Hydration, Protection and Comfort.  And the best of all is that treating stressed skin in winter = Beee-utiful New You in summer!!! And this is because the healing repairing and rejuvenating properties in Rosa Serums are strutting their stuff silently, yet effectively all winter long.  YAY!

Rosa News Bud

Which brings me to a very important news bud.  Check out www.rosaorganics.com.  Our new website went live in July and we are pleased to say that it has hit the mark. Rosa Organics is targeted at the initiated. Results driven people who are also too busy to switch from one skin care range to another in search of the panacea to a well-cared for, youthful looking sin. At the same time, these initiates are environmentally friendly, or have got to the age where they would rather save their liver functioning to metabolizing a glass of good red wine, than the parabens and petro-chemicals in some of the skin care offerings on the shelves. So check us out. read our ethos and stock up on Rosa if you haven't already done so!

Burn Out!

Last year I wrote a review for a Harley Davidson Launch I attended wherein I drew reference to my love for the song BURN OUT by Sipho "hotsticks" Mabuse.  I poignantly remembered the day I first heard that song played and how to me it epitomised all that is unique and compelling about Africa.  Not the words of the song per se, rather the score that is so unmistakenly African and yet at the same time Universal. When I hear the first bars of that song, I always stop in my tracks and feel good about what makes up this harsh, yet magical continent called Africa. But that was last year..... I fear.

This year I haven't been feeling so good about Africa, South Africa to be precise.  The strikes that have cost the country billions, in an economy that could do with a boost not a boot.  Malema and his talk about Nationalisation (that we even have to worry about him is a worry in itself), and the fact that the currently dis-advantaged are losing interest and enthusiasm has tempered my gung ho attitude just marginally. Some of us seem to be dragging ourselves through the days rather than embracing each new day with energy and verve. And if we do have the energy and verve, it is of the self-seeking kind.  If you can remember when someone offered assistance without there being something in it for them, please do drop me a line? With the advent of a ME, ME, ME society, I have become proficient at fixing the jets on the gas heater, I can make a fire with only one match, I now know all about water pressure and how to manage it, and I have become super fit without having been near a gym all winter; of all which has come our of necessity and not intention.  I moved Rosa's think tank and bottling plant to Dullstroom because I honestly believed the energy of the place would be beneficial to the brand. The natural beauty of the countryside that is hard to describe because it is so unremarkable in its beauty, and my perception that the locals would warm and welcoming?  The beauty persists and will do so in eternity and in this there is energy for Eons to come. The town and its inhabitants? Try unwelcoming and parochial in the first instance and down right lazy and morose in the second!  Rosa has been here for six months and has tried to employ like number of people and yesterday saw me throwing up my hands in dismay yelling BURNED OUT!!  You can take a horse to the water but you cannot make him drink. There are plenty of thirsty horses come month end lining up at the Post Office, ID book in one hand; the other waiting for their Government pay-out. It is such an occasion that people put up Gazebos in the field opposite.This town is rapidly losing its charm.And not just to Rosa.  The visitors too, who keep this town in gravy, are gatvol at having to pay R75 for a jar of honey that costs them R35 at home. Or R55 for the tiniest slither of cheese you have ever seen (made locally so no distibution costs), or paying R20 more for a 9kg cylinder of gas when the price is supposed to be regulated. And take the car guards that line the streets left and right from Friday to Sunday to play on the pockets of the visitors to this town when not one of the cars parked outside the numerous restaurants and shops is able to be stolen?  eTV featured Mpumulanga a week ago telling of how it is hitting the skids. Pilgrims Rest is no more. Sabi is following suit and Dullstroom is going to have to do a lot more than fleece the visitors, if it wants to avoid the slide to obscurity.  But for all that, I love the place and Rosa has indeed flourished because I have had my soul restored by waking up each morning to beauty and my little friend the ram Duiker who tippy toes Ethereally through the scrub behind the house.  Souls do not need people for restoration, you see.  You need intention and faith and the place in which to practice these.  A happy soul and all else follows!

Back to Burn Out, though, by Sipho "Hotsticks" Mabuse.  My dismay at the play of events described above had a reprieve.  I was watching an excellent movie on Mzanzi the other day, and at the end of this movie, as a filler between programmes, there it was.... the haunting refrain of Burn Out. I stood stock still and watched as two African men danced against a backdrop of the music video of Sipho Mabuse and his group playing Burn Out, a long, long time ago.  Longer even than 1994; 1984 in fact.  And I thought to myself...... I thought "There is magic yet in this land"  Africa is a timeless continent, a magical space and we can all make a difference, if only we try. 

And it is on this note that I leave you....

"At the back of every creation, supporting it like an arch, is faith. Enthusiasm is nothing: It comes and goes.  but if one believes, then miracles occur."

Henry Valentine Miller - American Novelist and Painter

Ad Lib

From time to time I write a newsletter and send it to Rosa followers.  In essence it is a vehicle to publish the latest and greatest about my passion - Rosa Organics - but in true female fashion, I get waylaid by happenings in my life and tend to give such happenings precedence.  I cannot see this changing, because when I was a kid, it was not polite to talk about oneself ad-infinitum, as enjoyable as talking about oneself may be.  Nope, you talk about other things, or you ask questions of the person or persons in your orbit at the time.  Which is well and good of course if such personages have a personality?  How often have you been in a situation...cocktail party, telephone conversation (the worst), dinner table, alone with the host's spouse while said host is in the kitchen...? when you valiantly try to get a conversation going and it just ain't happening!  At first you ask questions but come the fourth or fifth monosyllabic answer two choices present themselves...1) you plaster an inane "gee, I am having a great time" expression on your face  2) you babble.  I tend to do the latter.  The other evening I was invited to drinks with a couple I had just met.  I babbled so prolifically that I clean forgot to breathe.  When I finally excused myself, I dashed home and hauled out a paper bag and hyperventilated furiously into the bag.  Then I lay down on the floor in exhaustion.  Which is nothing, I am sure, to compare with the exhaustion of having to listen to the babble of a fringe generalist.  (Fringe generalist = someone who has a one liner on just about every topic in the book!)  I have a friend who impressed me no end with his vast intellect and knowledge. That he is an artist and as such in the same creative camp as I am should have given me a hint to the extent, or rather limit, of that knowledge.  I would sit and drink up all this information until one day his butt was firmly parked in a chair on my (then) Edwardian Veranda with a Frangipani branch as backdrop.  Opposite him was another Fringe Generalist and the two of them vied with each other for the Ad Lib trophy that was up for grabs.  My goodness!  What a load of hogwash.  But rather than demote said friend from the exalted position of intellectual know-it-all, I merely elevated myself into a notch marginally higher than he on the yardstick.  For after all, women, if they are wise, know when to say hummm and ahhhh when in deep water!  Men, on the other hand, just keep going.  Take for example my Dad.  Too precious for speech.  He is in his 80s and never has there been a more perfect specimen than Dad.  Yesterday, he ventured off in his ancient Camry in search of a new beach to walk on.  In his quest his car got stuck in the soft sand leading to the beach and who knows how long he sat there spinning his wheels until a  couple came along to save him.  Now Dad is a tad inventive in the memory department so when asked by the very nice couple where he hailed from he became an orphan with no home or family.  Fortunately, "detective" may have been in the CV of one of his rescuers because it was established that he lived in a retirement village not far from where he was stuck and once the couple had extricated Dad from the sand, they watched with dismay as he set off in the opposite direction from the retirement village described.  To cut a very long story short.  My sister's (see family?) husband was alerted and he screeched off in the direction that Dad had headed.  Only to find that the clutch of the ancient Camry had given up the ghost and had (fortunately) stranded Dad for the second time that day.  Peter saved Dad, had the car towed to the garage and all was well.  Last night I was chatting to Dad not letting on that I knew of his adventure and the story was, well, inventive.  He had gone to the beach to meet son in law. En route a lady managed to mess up his clutch and Peter just happened to have a toe truck handy at one of the remotest beaches on that coast line.  Today Peter is looking into Tracker and Netstar because we have decided that the angels may need a little help from time to time! 

And now to the purpose of  this blog.  ROSA ORGANICS.  Always save the best for last.  Rosa Organics is in the business of making women (and some men) look exceptionally beautiful with the least effort possible.  The reason for the "least effort" lies in the fact that the vehicle for enhancing the natural (pun intended) beauty of the women (and some men) is a simple, exclusive and highly active range of organic and natural serums for the skin.  After years of riding horses on the magical continent of Africa with the sun at its zenith most of the time my skin got a daily dose of the natural bronzing technique.  Years later and the natural bronzing became more than a little tarnished and a miracle was needed to restore it to is youthful lustre.  Well the BIG miracle is still being sought, but Rosa serums all contain a little miracle in their bottles.  Designed by nature and harnessed by Rosa Organics, you cannot do much better in the beautification of the skin department.  And here I am talking good, bad and indifferent skins.  Natural does not distinguish.  It will give your skin exactly what it needs.

Till later.....
Lynn