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A Generous Woman to a point
by Robin Whales
Hazel Plendalith loved her ballet boys and girls. In her studio, off
Main Road in Cape Town's busy Rondebosch, she had built up a
collection of games and DVDs for the youngsters. She had also
traded in her sedan for a ten-seater Toyota to transport some of
her children from school, and run them home, even the ones she
didn't charge for lessons. The mirror-walled studio, with a large
screen, bought and equipped with a loan from her advocate father,
was spacious, warm in winter and cool in summer.
Pretty and shapely, with a short brown bob and a cheeky upturned
nose, Hazel enjoyed a fabulous life to the brim. She cherished her
freedom and stress-free existence living in a residential hotel in
nearby Rosebank. Her current boyfriend of eight months, Peter
Olliver, was a good guy, a liquor salesman, who would never
become a manager, the sort of man her generous nature embraced.
There was absolutely no prospect of marriage which suited them
both. Peter had tried it once and at forty-two, eight years older
than Hazel, was pleased she had not suggested they live together.
He was average in height and looks, and she loved his easy-going,
uncomplicated disposition. But what she liked most about him
was his spontaneous bursts of sexual energy. With her libido on
permanent high she was always willing to accommodate him, day
or night.
They spent many weekends away and seldom arrived at their
destination without stopping at some deserted spot on the way for
a quick one. They had found a nook near a lay-by on Sir Lowry's
Pass, and it was becoming their tradition to use it when they went
to Hermanus to watch the whales mating, or for a weekend in bed
at Arniston.
What Hazel did not like about Peter was his preference for being
on top on those open-air occasions because the bare earth gave her
an itchy bottom. She joked about it once when a tiny black beetle
trespassed, but never seriously complained. To solve that problem
she carried on-the-ready a terylene jumper which she would tie
around her waist so that the body of the garment flapped over her
trim behind.
Some said she followed the tendency of prudes to wear a garment
so that men who followed a trim apple or peach for blocks would
be denied this once ubiquitous presentation. Especially the acute
split-fit. But Hazel wanted to accommodate Peter, and she forfeited
the pleasure of attraction in favour of protection from sand,
pebbles, grass, seeds, and animals. Teaching ballet with an itchy
bottom was stressful.
When Peter's good buddy in Bloemfontein, Casey Penfold, suggested
he and Hazel spend a long weekend in Knysna with him
and his wife, they agreed immediately. Casey was due to fly to
Cape Town for a management meeting two days ahead of the
weekend and he wanted to make good use of his company-paid
flight.
He and Peter had been colleagues in Stellenbosch until Casey was
promoted to sales manager in Bloemfontein three years ago. They
had only seen each other at the annual company bash and when...........................
To Read More, download The New Richmond Reader in .PDF
by Robin Whales
Hazel Plendalith loved her ballet boys and girls. In her studio, off
Main Road in Cape Town's busy Rondebosch, she had built up a
collection of games and DVDs for the youngsters. She had also
traded in her sedan for a ten-seater Toyota to transport some of
her children from school, and run them home, even the ones she
didn't charge for lessons. The mirror-walled studio, with a large
screen, bought and equipped with a loan from her advocate father,
was spacious, warm in winter and cool in summer.
Pretty and shapely, with a short brown bob and a cheeky upturned
nose, Hazel enjoyed a fabulous life to the brim. She cherished her
freedom and stress-free existence living in a residential hotel in
nearby Rosebank. Her current boyfriend of eight months, Peter
Olliver, was a good guy, a liquor salesman, who would never
become a manager, the sort of man her generous nature embraced.
There was absolutely no prospect of marriage which suited them
both. Peter had tried it once and at forty-two, eight years older
than Hazel, was pleased she had not suggested they live together.
He was average in height and looks, and she loved his easy-going,
uncomplicated disposition. But what she liked most about him
was his spontaneous bursts of sexual energy. With her libido on
permanent high she was always willing to accommodate him, day
or night.
They spent many weekends away and seldom arrived at their
destination without stopping at some deserted spot on the way for
a quick one. They had found a nook near a lay-by on Sir Lowry's
Pass, and it was becoming their tradition to use it when they went
to Hermanus to watch the whales mating, or for a weekend in bed
at Arniston.
What Hazel did not like about Peter was his preference for being
on top on those open-air occasions because the bare earth gave her
an itchy bottom. She joked about it once when a tiny black beetle
trespassed, but never seriously complained. To solve that problem
she carried on-the-ready a terylene jumper which she would tie
around her waist so that the body of the garment flapped over her
trim behind.
Some said she followed the tendency of prudes to wear a garment
so that men who followed a trim apple or peach for blocks would
be denied this once ubiquitous presentation. Especially the acute
split-fit. But Hazel wanted to accommodate Peter, and she forfeited
the pleasure of attraction in favour of protection from sand,
pebbles, grass, seeds, and animals. Teaching ballet with an itchy
bottom was stressful.
When Peter's good buddy in Bloemfontein, Casey Penfold, suggested
he and Hazel spend a long weekend in Knysna with him
and his wife, they agreed immediately. Casey was due to fly to
Cape Town for a management meeting two days ahead of the
weekend and he wanted to make good use of his company-paid
flight.
He and Peter had been colleagues in Stellenbosch until Casey was
promoted to sales manager in Bloemfontein three years ago. They
had only seen each other at the annual company bash and when...........................
To Read More, download The New Richmond Reader in .PDF
WHERE IS MY SON !?
by Rosemary Rudd
Despite Bella's best intentions, the day had started out badly. Davey groused non-stop about not being allowed to see Richard today because he was being punished. For not doing the delegated tasks he'd been set but also because his school teacher had complained that both David and his classmate Gareth had been terribly
disruptive in class of late and his report had reflected this. David had to start taking responsibility for his behaviour both at school and at home and the only way to enforce that was to take away his rewards.
At age 40 Bella had decided life was passing her by at such a pace that if she didn't have a baby that year, it would be too late and she would live to regret it for the rest of her life. After two brokendown relationships, she had resigned herself to the fact that she would be a spinster forever, which certainly didn't matter to her.
She had always been a loner, preferring her own company to that of insincere and shallow females or egotistical, macho men.
She had amassed a considerable fortune during her 15 years in business and felt she was perfectly poised to have a child as a single mom, and provide very well for it. So, she had gone ahead and had a baby, and now, here she was, 9 years later.
Her corporate gift and small cmt companies were both thriving, despite the appalling economic climate; her vehicles were paid for; she was meeting her monthly wage bills well enough (at least, for the most part) and although there was quite a large bond on the house, the move to a smaller home in a more affluent suburb would undoubtedly hold them in good stead for many years to come. Davey's school, excellent as it was, was costly, but these days, in South Africa, one had to send kids to reputable private schools to ensure they got the best education money could buy.
The problems she faced as a single parent were not unique to her, she knew that, but it sure was hard not having anyone she could get advice from or sound things out with, and of course David would really benefit from having a male role model. Oh, well, she
thought, I made the bed, so I must lie in it. I'd probably have to be the roll model so that he could have a role model but I'm past that now!
After hours of long faces, surliness and back chat, she had lost it completely! She'd grabbed hold of David, ushered him into his bedroom, thrown his backpack on the bed and instructed him to pack a change of clothes, pyjamas and his toiletries and to phone Richard to arrange a sleep over at Richard's house for a change!
David was thrilled and couldn't believe his ears. "Wow, Mom, thanks"! he said, hurriedly jamming his stuff into the not very large, grubby backpack before his mom changed her mind. "And when you get back tomorrow, you get that filthy bag washed, please", she admonished.
David grabbed his phone and dialled Richard. "Hey, dude, guess what? I've just scored us a sleep over at your house tonight. How cool is that ? Will it be ok with your Mom"? Apparently Richard was equally thrilled, and David said "Ok Bud, I'll see you now, ..…...To read more download The New Richmond Reader
by Rosemary Rudd
Despite Bella's best intentions, the day had started out badly. Davey groused non-stop about not being allowed to see Richard today because he was being punished. For not doing the delegated tasks he'd been set but also because his school teacher had complained that both David and his classmate Gareth had been terribly
disruptive in class of late and his report had reflected this. David had to start taking responsibility for his behaviour both at school and at home and the only way to enforce that was to take away his rewards.
At age 40 Bella had decided life was passing her by at such a pace that if she didn't have a baby that year, it would be too late and she would live to regret it for the rest of her life. After two brokendown relationships, she had resigned herself to the fact that she would be a spinster forever, which certainly didn't matter to her.
She had always been a loner, preferring her own company to that of insincere and shallow females or egotistical, macho men.
She had amassed a considerable fortune during her 15 years in business and felt she was perfectly poised to have a child as a single mom, and provide very well for it. So, she had gone ahead and had a baby, and now, here she was, 9 years later.
Her corporate gift and small cmt companies were both thriving, despite the appalling economic climate; her vehicles were paid for; she was meeting her monthly wage bills well enough (at least, for the most part) and although there was quite a large bond on the house, the move to a smaller home in a more affluent suburb would undoubtedly hold them in good stead for many years to come. Davey's school, excellent as it was, was costly, but these days, in South Africa, one had to send kids to reputable private schools to ensure they got the best education money could buy.
The problems she faced as a single parent were not unique to her, she knew that, but it sure was hard not having anyone she could get advice from or sound things out with, and of course David would really benefit from having a male role model. Oh, well, she
thought, I made the bed, so I must lie in it. I'd probably have to be the roll model so that he could have a role model but I'm past that now!
After hours of long faces, surliness and back chat, she had lost it completely! She'd grabbed hold of David, ushered him into his bedroom, thrown his backpack on the bed and instructed him to pack a change of clothes, pyjamas and his toiletries and to phone Richard to arrange a sleep over at Richard's house for a change!
David was thrilled and couldn't believe his ears. "Wow, Mom, thanks"! he said, hurriedly jamming his stuff into the not very large, grubby backpack before his mom changed her mind. "And when you get back tomorrow, you get that filthy bag washed, please", she admonished.
David grabbed his phone and dialled Richard. "Hey, dude, guess what? I've just scored us a sleep over at your house tonight. How cool is that ? Will it be ok with your Mom"? Apparently Richard was equally thrilled, and David said "Ok Bud, I'll see you now, ..…...To read more download The New Richmond Reader
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Download The New Richmond Reader Issue 9 in .PDF Format.
Download The New Richmond Reader Issue 9 in .PDF Format.