Things that upset me this Christmas

It’s almost Christmas and the Möller household is stirring. The kitchen is mopped, rusks and milk tarts are being baked, the house is spring cleaned and the car washed, the garage is swept clean and lawns are mowed because it is almost Christmas and the place must be ready and time is running out. With this in mind I decided to mow the back yard late this afternoon before the sun sets. While I was busy I thought of a few things I don’t like very much.

Dinge wat my pla hierdie Kersfees

Dis amper Kersfees en dit gons in die Möller-huis. Die kombuis word geskrop en beskuit en melktert word gebak, huis word skoongemaak en kar word gewas, garage word gevee en gras word gesny want die plek moet reg en die tyd raak min. So besluit ek toe laatmiddag dat ek gou die agterplaas se gras moet sny voor die son sak. Dit bring my toe by 'n paar goed wat vir my nogal erg is.

The card and the train

“Are you alright?” asked a very anxious lady next to whom I collapsed on the train. I must have looked like I was going to die any minute because rule number one on the train is you don’t talk to strangers, but apparently she didn’t fancy the idea of me expiring next to her, so she rather asked. I sat there like a wet rat, hunched over and gasping for air. Tonight would be the last parent/teacher interview for the year, this time for Nadia who completed her Prep year and was about to start year 1. I therefore just had to make it in time, no excuses would be accepted. Normally I manage to keep to these appointments without too much trouble and this time would have been no different, were it not for our anniversary that was soon to be celebrated. Let me explain… 

Die kaartjie en die trein

"Is jy OK?" vra die bekommerde antie langs wie ek neer geval het op die trein. Ek moes seker erg gelyk het want reël nommer een op die trein is jy praat nie met vreemdes nie. Klaarblyklik het sy nie kans gesien dat ek op die bankie langs haar inmekaar sak nie, so sy vra liewer. Ek het soos ‘n nat rot daar gaan sit, vooroor gebukkend en gehyg na asem. Vanaand sou die laaste Parent/Teacher Interview wees vir die jaar, hierdie keer vir Nadia wat klaar maak met haar Prep jaar en graad een toe skuif. Ek móés dus betyds wees, geen verskonings word aanvaar nie. Normaalweg vind ek dit relatief maklik om by sulke afsprakies te hou en hierdie keer sou geensins anders wees nie, was dit nie vir my huweliksherdenking wat binnekort gevier sou word nie. Laat ek verduidelik… 

Australian Corporate Games 2011 (English)

(Daar is ook 'n Afrikaanse weergawe van hierdie bladsy)


I don't know about you, but in my mind I'm not getting any older. I still feel 19, just finished with school and in my first year of studies, something that happened 19 years ago if my calculations are correct. On the one hand it's a good thing because they say you are as old as you think. But it can also cost you dearly, like when you agree to take part in the Australian Corporate Games.

Two years ago I took on the 10km challenge and of the 205 runners I finished third. From the back. When the race officials start to collect those orange route-marker cones and flags immediately after you passed, it might be considered a subtle hint that you may not be as competitive as you thought you were. I would just like to express my gratitude to Lesley, a lady from ANZ who ran a little slower than me, and also two of my former colleagues from JDS, Neale and Vilam. If they had not decided to walk the whole 10km for an equal last place I would probably have had that honour. (here are the official results of that historic day)

How quickly one forgets! Two years later I again found myself signing up for the 2011 Australian Corporate Games, but this time I was a little wiser and decided to go for the 5km run rather than the 10.

Australian Corporate Games 2011 (Afr)

(there is also an English version of this page)


Ek weet nie van julle nie, maar ek voel nie al dag of ek oud word nie. In my kop voel ek nog 19, pas klaar met skool en in my eerste studiejaar, iets wat, as ek my somme reg gemaak het, al 16 jaar terug plaasgevind het. Aan die een kant is dit goed want hulle sê mos jy is so oud soos jy dink jy is. Maar dit kan 'n man ook duur te staan kom, soos wanneer jy instem om aan die Australian Corporate Games deel te neem.

Ek het twee jaar terug die 10km wedloop aangedurf en uit die 205 deelnemers het ek derde gekom. Van agter. Wanneer die beamptes daai oranje cones en vlaggies wat die roete aandui begin kollekteer pas na jy verby gekom het is dit seker 'n subtiele wenk dat jy dalk nie so kompeterend is soos jy mag dink nie. Ek moet egter net my dank uitspreek teenoor 'n ene Lesley, 'n tannie van ANZ wat stadiger as ek gehol het, en twee van my oud-kollegas by JDS, Neale en Vilam. As hulle nie besluit het om die 10km te stap vir 'n gesamentlike laaste plek nie was ek heel laaste. (hier is die offisiële resultate van daardie geskiedkundige dag)

Hoe vinnig vergeet mens nie! Twee jaar later kry ek myself weer dat ek opteken vir die 2011 Australian Corporate Games, maar hierdie keer het ek bietjie meer verstand en besluit ek om die 5km te hol eerder as die 10. 

All about fish and lizards and stick insects…

It so happened that Herman came to me one Friday evening, wide eyed and very excited. “Miss Davies said I can get a stick insect!” 

“O she did, did she?” 

“Yes, all we need is a fish tank and we have a fish tank so we can get one, right?” 

“You probably mean an aquarium?” 

“Yes, an aquarium. Can we get one? Can we...?” 

We don’t have an aquarium. We do have something that once housed a little gold fish for a short time but the thing was so small that Frankenstein could practically just swim forwards and backwards and hardly turn around. But my budding entomologist believes that it qualifies as a fitting habitat for a stick insect. Now I know something about sticks, and I know something about insects but not much about a stick insect. Fortunately I know something about computers and Google so before long we were gaining expert knowledge about stick insects, and the keeping thereof. (Did you know that a mommy stick insect can produce baby stick insects without a daddy being anywhere in the picture? And here I hoped I could use the stick insect project for more than one educational purpose, like conveying the facts of life, but that won’t work very well...)

Van visse en akkedisse en stokinsekte...

En so kom boetie toe die een Vrydagaand by my, groot oog en baie opgewonde. “Die juffrou het gesê ek kan ‘n stick insect kry!”

“O so?”

“Ja, ons het net ‘n vistenk nodig en ons het mos ‘n vistenk so ek kan een kry, né?” 

“Seker ‘n akwarium?” 

“Ja, ‘n akwarium. So kan ons een kry? Kan ons...?” 

Ons het nie ‘n akwarium nie. Ons het wel iets wat ‘n goudvissie vir ‘n kort tydjie gehuisves het, maar die ding is so klein dat Frankenstein amper net vorentoe en agtertoe kon swem, van omdraai was daar nie sprake nie. Maar my opkomende entomoloog glo dit kwalifiseer as 'n geskikte habitat om ‘n stokinsek in aan te hou. Nou ek ken stokke en ek ken insekte, maar ek ken nie so lekker van die sogenaamde stokinsek nie. Gelukkig weet ek so ietsie van kompûters en Google en ons word toe vinnig kenners op die gebied van stokinsekte, asook die aanhouding daarvan. (Het julle geweet 'n mamma stokinsek kan baba stokkies kry sonder dat daar 'n pappa stokinsek iewers in die prentjie is? Ek het nogal gehoop ek sou hierdie stokinsek-oefening kon gebruik vir meer as een opvoedkundige doel, soos om te gesels oor die feite van die lewe, maar daarvoor sal dit nie goed werk nie...)

My culinary experiences (Part three)

(click here for part two of my culinary experiences)
South Africans like biltong (if at this point you find yourself asking, “What is biltong??” then click here). It may be a broad generalisation but I believe it to be true. It is especially true in Australia, or for that matter in any country where the South African expat may find himself. I will venture that even those who may rate themselves low on the biltong-lover scale will start to develop a desire for the traditional delicacy - for the simple reason that it is not easily obtained here, and it’s a well-known fact that you generally want that which you cannot have, right? So what are you to do when you find yourself in Australia and the biltong is in South Africa? There are four options:

My kulinêre ervarings (Deel drie)

(gaan hier vir deel twee van my kulinêre ervarings)


Suid-Afrikaners hou van biltong. Dit mag miskien ‘n veralgemening wees, maar ek glo dis waar. Veral hier in Australië, of enige ander land waar die Suid-Afrikaanse expat homself mag bevind. Ek glo selfs diegene wat normaalweg nie lief is vir biltong nie sal begin hunker daarna, bloot omdat dit nie so maklik is om dit hier te bekom nie – mens wil mos altyd dít hê wat jy nie kan kry nie, of hoe? So hoe gemaak wanneer jy in Australië sit en die biltong is in Suid-Afrika?

My culinary experiences (Part two)

(click here for part one of my culinary experiences)


I can’t help it, but something that has always grabbed my attention is food. Call me a glutton or rude or uneducated, but if food is involved you have my attention. You will therefore understand why, when I received an email that invited me to a “Software Test Automation workshop", my ears perked up and my heart rate increased and my palms got a little sweaty. You could mistakenly think that I was in love but the real reason was that my eyes had scanned the email and the neural receptors in my brain instantly picked out the words “free lunch”.

My kulinêre ervarings (Deel twee)

(gaan hier vir deel een van my kulinêre ervarings)


Ek kan dit nie help nie, maar iets wat nog altyd my aandag getrek het is kos. Noem my 'n vraat of onopgevoed of niksgewoontie, maar as daar kos ter sprake is dan trek dit die aandag. Dus, toe ek die epos kry wat my uitnooi na 'n "Software Test Automation Workshop" spits my ore en my hart klop bietjie vinniger en my handpalms word sweterig. Mens kon sweer ek is verlief maar eintlik is dit net omdat my oë die epos vinnig ge-scan het en die neurale reseptore in my brein die woorde "free lunch" dadelik opgetel het. Dit was blykbaar hulle manier om mense te oortuig om deel te neem, en blykbaar het dit gewerk. Soos ek gesê het, ek kan dit nie help nie. Die woord “lunch” trek op die beste van tyd my aandag maar as die woord "free" in dieselfde sin is dan flits al die liggies in my brein en klokkies lui en ek moet net keer of ek kwyl my sleutelbord sopnat. Ons het maar almal ons swakhede, en ons prys.

My culinary experiences (Part one)

When it comes to eating out I’ve always thought that I have reasonable skills. I’m familiar with the basic etiquette, like using your cutlery from the outside, folding the napkin neatly on your lap and not making those funny noises that the kids enjoy so much. That little bowl with the warm water and lemon slice is not a fancy new soup and you don’t pick your nose,...uhm, well, if you absolutely have to then at least do it when nobody is looking. That just about sums up everything I know about dining out. But one is never too old to learn. I discovered this little known fact shortly after my loving wife and I arrived at the company annual dinner.

My kulinêre ervarings (Deel een)

As dit kom by uiteet, het ek gedink ek is orraait. Ek ken mos die basiese etiket, soos om altyd met die buitenste mes en vurk te begin eet, die servet netjies op jou skoot oop te vou en nie geluide te maak waarvoor die kinders so lekker kan lag nie. Daai bakkie met warm water en 'n suurlemoen skyfie is nie 'n fancy nuwe sop nie en mens krap nie in jou neus nie, ...uhm, wel as jy regtig móét, doen dit dan net wanneer niemand kyk nie. Dis omtrent die som totaal van wat ek geweet het. Maar mens is mos nooit te oud om te leer nie. So ontdek ek toe hierdie min bekende feit kort nadat ek en vroulief by my werk se jaarlikse dinee aangekom het.

The copper from Glen Waverley

When I first wrote about this we were in Australia for about 8 months. It is now almost 4 years since we set foot, but I still have much to learn about the country, its people and rules. At the time of the incident described below we lived in Melbourne, just off High Street Road, one of the main arteries going into Melbourne. From High Street Rd you would turn in to Glen Tower and then turn right into Camden Court to reach our humble abode. It was in Glen Tower where we would often find a representative from the welcoming committee of the Victoria Police, patiently waiting for the unfortunate soul who might inadvertently stray into Glen Tower from High Street Rd, between the hours of 7:30am and 9:00am, weekdays. Apparently you are not allowed to do this.

Die spietkop van Glen Waverley

Ten tye van hierdie oorspronklike skrywe was ons 8 maande in Australië. Ons is nou al amper 4 jaar hier, maar ek leer nog amper elke dag iets nuut van die land, sy mense en reëls. Tydens die insident wat ek hier beskryf, het ons naby High Street Road gebly in Melbourne. Dis een van die groter paaie wat inloop stad toe. Vanuit High Street draai ons dan af in Glen Tower op pad na ons huis in Camden Court. Dis in Glen Tower waar daar gereeld 'n afgevaardigde van die verwelkomingskomitee van die Victoria Polisie sit, om welkom te heed aan die ongelukkige siele wat vanuit High Street Rd daar indraai tussen die ure 7:30vm en 9:00vm, weeksdae. Blykbaar mag jy dit nie doen nie.

Return of the Orb Weaver!

The other day I pulled open our filing cabinet in the study and frantically started searching for my pre-nuptial agreement. Before you start to stress, I’m not about to make an end to our marriage. No, I simply wanted to see if there was anything that mentioned spiders, and my role and responsibility in the killing and /or removal of said spiders. As my eyes scanned the pages I my mood became lighter and my smile broader. I just began to whistle an old, long forgotten folk song when it happened.  The first note was pure, the second sounded more like it came from one of those party whistles that those annoying kids just won’t stop blowing. Just as I thought I was free from this terrible fate I read those ominous words, just above my signature, "...till death do us part". That short sentence takes on a whole new meaning after one stumbled upon a somewhat surprised eight-legged monster in the darkness outside!

Die wawielwebspinnekop maak sy grillerige verskyning.

Ek het nou die dag ons liasseerkabinet oopgetrek en verwoed begin soek vir my huwelikskontrak. Voor julle begin stres, ek is nie van plan om 'n einde te maak aan my huwelik nie. Ek wou bloot kyk of ek iets sien wat dalk melding maak van spinnekoppe en my rol in die verwydering en/of vermorseling daarvan. Namate my soektog gevorder het, het my gemoed ligter begin raak en was daar 'n lied in my hart. Ek het net begin om 'n ou vergete voortrekker volkspeleliedjie te begin fluit toe dit gebeur. Die eerste noot was suiwer, die tweede het geklink soos een van daai fluitjies wat mens in die 2-Rand lucky packets kry. Ek was amper los, toe lees ek aan die onderkant, daar skuins bokant my handtekening, die woorde "...till death do us part". Daardie sin neem 'n totale nuwe dimensie aan as jy dit lees pas na jy vir meneer daar buite in sy web verras het!

The washing machine saga...

To say I had a busy weekend may be a slight understatement. Earlier in the week the washing machine decided it's had it and like a stubborn mule simply refused to fill with cold water. As you are nou doubt aware, I have somewhat soft computer hands and I'm not exactly the type of guy to fiddle with these things. But after I heard what it will cost me to get someone to come out ($100 call-out + parts + labour at $16-50 / 10 min) I decided:

1) I had missed my calling, and

2) surely, surely it can't be thát difficult...

I then proceeded to Google the problem (as one does in these situations) and learned everything there was to learn about a Whirlpool top loader.  So, armed with my newly-acquired knowledge, a screw driver in the one hand and a spanner in the other, I cautiously approached the laundry, after I first instructed my dear wife Christa nót to follow me, and should I not return after an hour, to immediately call the emergency services.

Die sage van die wasmasjien...

Ek het 'n besige naweek gehad. Vroeër die week het ons wasmasjien besluit dis sulke tyd – die ding het soos 'n steeks donkie eenvoudig geweier om koue water in te tap. Ek het mos sagte kompûter-handjies en is nou nie die tipe ou wat handig is met sulke goed nie, maar nadat ek gehoor het wat dit sou kos om iemand uit te kry ($100 call-out + parts + labour teen $16-50 / 10 min) besluit ek:

1) ek het my roeping gemis, en

2) dit kan sekerlik nie so moeilik wees nie…

Ek spring toe op Google en leer alles wat ek kan van 'n Whirlpool top loader. So, gewapen met my nuutgevonde kennis, 'n skroewedraaier in die een hand en 'n spanner in die ander hand, stap ek versigtig waskamer toe met instruksies vir Christa om my nié te volg nie en om die nooddienste te bel as ek nie binne 'n uur terug is nie.

The first post of (hopefully) many...

Testing...testing...123

Welcome to my blog. As you may notice from my various posts, my family recently pulled up our roots from South Africa and immigrated to Australia. I guess this is my way of sharing our experiences and trying to make sense of it all, remembering to never take life too seriously... If you enjoy these posts (or if you don't) please leave a comment, I'd love to hear from you! Enjoy.

Aangesien dit deesdae blykbaar die in-ding is om 'n blog te skryf het ek gedink ek moet ook dan maar een begin. Soos julle kan aflei het my gesin onlangs ons wortels uit Suid Afrika opgetrek en geimmigreer na Australië. Hierdie is seker maar my manier om ons ondervindings met julle te deel en sin te probeer maak van alles, sonder om die lewe te ernstig op te neem... As julle hiervan hou (of nie) los gerus 'n kommentaar of twee, ek sal graag van julle wil hoor! Lekker lees.