If I were a rich man

If I were a rich man
26 April 2013

If I were a rich man. 

Which sadly I’m not.  Actually, it’s a double whammy for me, cause I’m neither rich nor a man for that matter.

So what am I exactly?  I’m a woman.  In the prime of her life (hey forty is the new twenty!).  And sadly for me and my family, I am just not rich at all.

In fact, never mind rich, I’d settle for comfortably well-off.  But if that’s a bit of a big ask, I’ll just go with well-off.  It’s not as if I’m greedy or anything.  And I am more than willing to compromise.  Heck, even comfortable alone will perfectly suffice.

Okay, so who am I trying to kid?  I’d quite happily settle with being able to pay the bills.  All of them.  Not having a backlog.  Feeling as if I’m actually ahead. 

I think that more and more people feel this way too.  Sadly life is expensive.  Very much so. 

And I am in the position, where I earn my own income.  I don’t work for a boss and therefore don’t have a monthly salary to fall back on.  There is no basic remuneration package, no sick leave, no compassionate leave, no sickies, no company stationary, no pension, no medical aid, no cell phone allowance, not even free coffee!  And what this means effectively, is that I start the first day of every month on exactly zero.  No money.  Zilch.  Zippo.  Which truthfully scares the bejeebers out of me.  Which is why I prefer to not think about it at all.  I simply get on with it, and do my very best.

So how do I generate some moola?  Well, I am particularly blessed in that my Jumping Castle business does really quite well.  I place a weekly ad in our local paper, and have done so for nearly nine years.  And apart from that, word of mouth is an incredibly powerful tool.  But, I do rely on that telephone to ring, to bring business to me.  And so, this weekend in particular, is rather quite busy.  This always brings me great joy.  And oodles of relief too.  But then again, it is an end-of-the-month-weekend.  And they are normally good.  But after that?  Well, I’ve got exactly four Castles booked after that, up to and including the 18^th of May.  For the whole year.

Scary, hey!  Still the phone will ring once more.  It always does.  And business will come in.  It always does. 

Our Helderberg lies in an abundantly fertile little valley, and so we are blessed with the fruit of many loins.  Those very same fruit, requiring Jumping Castles for their parties.  How lucky am I?

Still, the pressure stays on.  This weekend’s rentals must pay my domestic worker’s salary (I know – I am spoilt to have her, still I can’t live without her).  Next weekend’s rentals the telephone account.  Then there’s daily groceries, doctors, dentists, school fees, Amber’s dancing, Luke’s extra maths, and other extra murals too, my ad in the paper, my cleaning crew, new hockey shoes, a dancing Eisteddfod entry fees, new leotard, presents for birthday parties, etc. etc. etc.  The problem comes in though, when it rains terribly on a weekend, and my bookings get cancelled.  Which means that I effectively fall a whole week behind in generating income.  Not good!

Still, I can’t complain.  Life is good.  And so is business too.  And the very nature of my business, allows me the flexibility to be there for my kids.  To lift and to cart.  To stand alongside the sports field, screaming support.  To do orthodontist and doctor’s visits.  Supervised homework in the afternoons.  Driving here and there.

But, if I was a rich man, or woman…..

• I’d live in Somerset West – closer to the kids’ schools
• I’d have a double story house (a lifelong dream – added bonus of toned thighs from climbing stairs lots)
• I’d have a swimming pool – my children’s dream to have a proper pool, not merely an inflatable one
• I’d have a big garden (with a gardener, as I kill plants if left to my own devices)
• I’d entertain lots
• I’d eat out quite a lot (I don’t really enjoy cooking all that much)
• I’d get take-aways too (so when I say I don’t really enjoy cooking all that much, I mean I really don’t like it at all)
• I’d enjoy shopping more – now it is a chore as it is simply always budget related
• I’d buy my kids more clothes
• I’d still not spoil my kids, as I think it is bad
• I’d spoil myself though – hey, I deserve it!
• I’d do family holidays and lots of them too
• I’d do more outings with my kids, take them out and about more
• I’d get a big seven seater car or a kombi so that I can lift kids and their friends
• I’d have an electric gate – my manual version (with the added benefit of an automatic function when the kids are in the car – I simply boot them out), is a bit tedious
• I’d have the luxury of not panicking when my kids come home with yet another letter asking for money
• I’d get them better sporting equipment
• I’d ensure they had more than enough school uniforms and sports uniforms too – no need for midnight washing
• I’d have the luxury of actually using my tumble drier, as I could afford the increased electricity bill
• I’d indulge myself in a hot air balloon ride and an amble on a gondola in Venice
• I’d spoil my Grantie with a trip to watch a Grand Prix
• I’d spoil my Luke with a trip to watch some of his favourite soccer teams playing all over Europe
• I’d spoil my Amber with shows to all of her favourite music stars and a trip to Disney and Universal Studios too
• I’d spoil my Cole with lots of sporting equipment, trips to watch live Soccer and Rugby as well
• I’d spoil my Mom with a trip to visit my sister
• I’d spoil my brother with a few more guitars as well as some “meet-and-greets” with some of his favourite muso’s of all time – though getting hold of Jimi Hendrix might prove problematic
• I’d spoil my sister and her family with a trip home to SA – a long one at that
• I’d spoil my grandparents with being surrounded by all of their children and grandchildren
• I’d spoil my entire big family with financial security, enabling them to follow their dreams
• I’d spoil my friends with a joint trip to an exotic destination (still debating on whether we’d take our husbands and kids along too)

 

But actually all things considered, I am rather rich already.  I have a family whom I love deeply and who love me deeply in return.  I have amazing, incredible friends.  I am surrounded by natural beauty and bounty every single day.

My cup really runneth over.  Earthly riches mean nothing, if you don’t have the family, the friends, appreciation and gratitude for that which you already have.

I am rich!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

I've passed yet again!

I've passed yet again!
7 December 2012

Yabba-dabba-dooo!  I’ve passed yet again.  I’m feeling ever so chuffed and very bright too.  I’ve just passed Grade 8 for the 2^nd time.  I’ve passed Grade 4 for the 3^rd time.  And I’ve passed Grade 2 for the 4^th time.  In fact, I think I might finally have a good handle on Grade 2 right about now.  Sure I will have it near perfected by the time I do it a 5^th time.  If only there was going to be a 5^th time.  But my mean husband won’t take the bait.  Just think, I would cream it if I did it once more.  For that matter, watch out Mrs Viljoen! 

So summer holidays are here.  I give a huge sigh of relief, because after the last few weeks I feel just plain shattered.  There is a reason for the December holidays being over 6 weeks long.  Us parents need the time to fully recover.  Never mind the exams, the sport, the orals and projects, the extra-murals and multitude of daily notices.  The real cause for the need for rest is financial exhaustion.  I’m completely tapped out.  For the last few weeks not a single day has passed when one of kids has not needed money for something. 

It’s been school photo’s, text books, stationary, music fees (okay, so I was late paying that one), Dance Demo tickets, Talent show tickets, Noddy tickets, collections for presents for teachers, collections for hampers for school workers, Toys for Joy, Rotary Anns, School movie days including popcorn, School Christmas Carol tickets, presents for teachers and coaches, money for flash drives for school for next year, deposits for extra lessons, deposits for swimming lessons and so the list goes on and on.  Seemingly forever more. 

The financial demands seem insurmountable at times.  Added to that I need to feed my family each day.  Three times to be exact and that’s not counting school snacks.  Amber’s having a birthday next week, so a party will have to happen.  Christmas is around the corner.  My domestic worker whom I love dearly will deserve a good bonus. 

And because I work for myself and not a boss (a perk I thoroughly enjoy), it does however present a few challenges.  Mainly, my income fluctuates and varies from month to month.  Added to that I’m hugely dependant on good weather.  The down side is that I start every single month with a zero balance.  As in zippo.  Zilch.  Nada.  Not a friggin cent.  And I know how much income I need to generate.  I can never afford to be sick.  I don’t do holidays, not even Christmas. 

So for now, in my summer season, I’m trying to milk it as much as I can.  The problem is that I end up playing catch up and not really saving for the burdens that await me once school starts again.  Because we all know that from the very first day, the letters will start once more.  Money for this and for that and even for that too.  I often laugh, because a good friend of mine, though happily married, regularly says that she’s never marrying for love again.  The next time she marries, she clearly states it will be for financial gain only.  Husband number two can be ancient and ugly as long as he’s loaded.  I think husband number one will quite happily go along with her plan.

But just for today, I’ll breathe a big sigh of relief.  I’ll take the day off and skip the worrying until tomorrow again.  For now the kids are on holiday and all is right with my world.  My chickens are home and under my feet.  We’ve said no to holiday sporting clinics and fun holiday clubs.  My kids are also exhausted and need a good break.  All of us do.

We’re all basking in the glory of six summer filled weeks lying ahead.  The fun we’ll have.  The rest and relaxation.

Long may the holidays last.  I need the reprieve!

Jumping 4 Joy

Jumping 4 Joy
1 October 2012

Jumping 4 Joy?  Perhaps not always so much.

I have my own business, ‘uniquely’ called Jump 4 Joy.  And yip, you guessed it – I rent out Jumping Castles.  Hey, in the beginning I thought it was a really awesome name.  Until I eventually cottoned on, that people often assumed that my name was Joy.  Will I ever forget the time my friend Gill’s husband phoned me and tried to prank me from Gill’s phone?  He tried to muffle his voice by speaking through something and in a horrible accent he said “Ah, hello, is that Joy?”.  To which I replied “No, Pete – it’s Helene.  I have call line identity on my cell phone, you chop!”. 

I love my business.  I make children happy.  So what’s not to love?  I seriously like children, so making them happy for a living is just sooo cool.  I’m every kid’s hero and chances are that my Jumping Castles just add that little bit extra to a birthday party and really help to make the day fun for the kids and easy for the parents.  There are loads of positives to my business and for them I am deeply grateful. 

I get to work from home – which anybody else who works from home knows, is both a blessing and a burden.  The plus side is I never have to drive to work and spend absolutely zero time in work traffic.  Bonus!  I do however never get to escape work either.  My hours are pretty flexible (particularly in the week).  But they’re also only really flexible if everyone plays by the rules and sticks to the collection and drop-off times.  I don’t require a fancy working wardrobe.  In fact, if anything, I actually dress down for work – wearing my oldest, rattiest, torn jeans (they’re always clean mind you).  My clothes take a pounding and get dirty from lifting and loading, so dressing up would be pretty daft.  I don’t have a boss – which is my absolutely fave.  I don’t have a problem with authority and I’m a rule follower, but I don’t really like being told what to do in a bossy type of manner – a horrible characteristic, I know.  However, I’m a pretty hard task master myself so perhaps a boss would be better?  I never allow myself sick leave or holidays.  If I was my own employee I would take myself to the labour court – slavery, I tell you!!!  I decide on my own prices for my Castles and therefore I set my own salary – obviously given that clients rent from me and I get the bucks in of course.  And while I may seriously suck at giving myself leave, I am a rather generous employer.  I give myself a small annual increase in October every year, when I marginally increase my prices.  Twenty bucks extra per rental, is not a lot of money to the individual paying me, but given the volume and turnover of clients it does surmount to a little raise at least.  I am mainly busy over weekends, so I’m able to lift and cart my kids around during the week – a job I oddly enjoy doing.  I am not stuck in an office, for which I am eternally grateful.  I fear I would wither away if I was.  I get to do my kids’ sport and extra-murals in the afternoons and help out at their schools during the morning if needed – you know odd little jobs, like counting raffle sheets, or helping with décor for a farewell, or prop painting for a concert, supervising a class or cake sale duty.  Arb little things like that that make my kids feel so chuffed and proud when they see me at school (lots of waving and hugs are my reward) – until they become teenagers of course.  Luke would rather die than see me at High School.  Perish the thought!  I’m home in the holidays, so I’m not stuck with the same dilemma that conventional working parents are stuck with in terms of what to do with their kids in the holidays.  So all, in all – loads and loads and loads of perks.

But sadly and more realistically, for every silver lining there is a cloud.  And I suppose rightly so.  Because without those clouds, the silver linings wouldn’t seem half as bright.  Now I’m not prone to negativity or dark thoughts and I’m sure that most who know me can vouch for this.  In fact, I consciously make an effort to always be positive and upbeat.  But jeez, sometimes work can be a bit annoying.

So this is my main beef.  I get to spend absolute aeons waiting for people.  No, I don’t think you completely understand – AEONS!!!  The lack of consideration simply takes my breath away at times.  I am always very precise in explaining my collection and drop-off times.  There is no grey area.  It gets discussed verbally over the phone when the enquiry is made.  It is re-iterated in all my e-mail communication.  And I send confirmation to clients again the day before their parties, just to make sure and remind them, in a friendly yet exact manner.  But, would you believe it, things don’t always go according to plan.  Now, I’m not rigid or unreasonable.  But being four hours late in collecting a castle is rather trying.  It might surprise some to realise that I don’t just sit around at home all day long waiting for clients.  I have children, a husband and a life.  Chances are my kids have sports matches or I have another commitment – hence the whole time frame thing.  I try and be flexible, make allowances and exercise patience.  And then, despite signing a contract stipulating times when they collect, when it comes to dropping Castles off again, the time thing rears its ugly head once more – even more profoundly.  Obviously people are slightly more conscientious about fetching a Castle on time, as their party depends on it.  But dropping it off again?  Well, no, not so much.  They would rather stretch the usage – sometimes even by days.  Yip, days. 

So obviously my little whinge comes on the tail end of a particularly tedious waiting weekend.  A castle that was supposed to be dropped off on Saturday evening at 6pm, only ended up coming in again on Sunday evening after 9pm.  Very stressful, particularly as I was unable to get hold of the client.  Were they doing a runner on me and stealing my Castle?  Stranger things have happened.  Another one that was supposed to be fetched at 8h30 on Sunday morning, was only fetched at 12h00.  Not a train smash I know.  But on this particular Sunday, I had other plans.  Which resulted in my family leaving without me to go for lunch to friends – only for me to join them later.  Yet again, not a train smash.  But slightly irritating?  You betcha!

So what to do?  What to do???  Well, I suck it up.  Even though they’re at fault, I play nice.  Good news and a positive experience spreads fast.  Bad news or a bad experience spreads even faster.  So, I am polite back, despite being irate on the inside.  I am courteous and friendly.  I don’t burn bridges.  I give people second, third and fourth chances.  I imagine being in their shoes and having difficulty with transport and time management skills (something I sometimes suck at as well).  I smile at the kids, joke with the parents and lend a helpful hand.  And for my efforts, I get repeat business.  I hopefully have a good name out there, as a friendly and polite person.  Yip, I’m a sucker!

But you know what?  It’s all worth it.  Seeing the smiles on the faces of the little kids when they come along for the drive to fetch “their” Castle for their party.  I get to show them the pictures of “their” Castles when they’re inflated and see the wonder and excitement on their faces.  I get spontaneous hugs and lisping thank you’s.  And let’s not forget the deep appreciation from the parents for keeping their kids occupied so to speak.  Not to mention their relief at having little party guests playing and being entertained outside, rather than in their homes.

And to be honest, the cash doesn’t hurt too much either and really seems to soothe my pain.

I took a Castle along to a friend's house when we had a get-together once, and some of the little girls donned wigs and posed for a pic on the Castle - too cute!

 

 

Gladiator Boat

 

 

Gladiator Slide, fondly dubbed MF01 - sure you can figure it out

 

 

Gladiator Slide again - it's friggin heavy!

 

 

Slide @ Side - a Castle/Ballpond combo

 

 

Fun House

 

 

Slip 'n Slide fun

 

 

The kids absolutely love it and often end up queueing

 

 

Giving my new baby a bash at home - quality control and all that

 

 

A delighted foam covered Cole

 

 

Best view ever - empty garage.  All my babies out for the day.  Show me the money!!!

Pardon me?

Pardon me?
23 July 2012

So my main source of income is my Jumping Castle business – ‘wittingly’ called “Jump 4 Joy”.  I started it nearly 8 years ago and it truly has gone from strength to strength.  But the downside in my line of work is winter.  Boy, it REALLY sucks.  I’ve never had a fondness for winter and once I started doing Castles, I really started disliking it even more as well as taking it quite personal.  The ray of sunshine, however has to be my clients.  I genuinely like people and I enjoy meeting clients and chatting to them.  I’d like to believe that I quickly build an easy friendship with people and put them at ease and I also have the ability to chat to absolutely anyone.  However you will not believe the dof questions I sometimes get asked when I have enquiries.  And at times I really have to bite my lip and not laugh out loud over the phone.  I’ve sort of started an idiot’s rating list: 

In fourth place…..”Does the motor have to blow air the whole time to keep the Castle inflated?” – Okaaayyy! Yes, indeed as it has little air holes in between the stitching that lets air out – otherwise the Castle would pop, as in explode, as in fling kids off in the distance.  So please do keep the motor running.

In third place…..”The Jumping Castle is leaking air between the stitching.” – Okaaayyy!  Yes, indeed.  Otherwise the Castle would pop, as in explode, as in fling kids off in the distance.  Refer to fourth place answer above.

In second place…..”Do you inflate the Castle for me when I fetch it?” – Right.  That would stop traffic indeed.  Just picture this.  There you are pleasantly taking a drive, when you get overtaken by a car with a large inflatable boat-shaped Castle floating high above in the air.

However, the undisputed winner of the “I-am-an-idiot” prize has to go to……(suspense filled silence, followed by drum roll – prrrrdish)…..”Do you supply the water with the Slip ‘n Slide?” – Well, this one really stumped me.  In fact, I was mute for a few seconds after I got this whopper.  I was a bit slow on the uptake, but in hindsight, I should have said “Yes, certainly.  All you need to do is drop a whole lot of empty 2litre Coke bottles off the week before your party, and I will systematically start filling them for you.”  Seriously???  I am not quite sure if this person should be allowed to drive.  Or more importantly, propagate the species.

I am however being rather unfair.  Only a small percentage of my clients are idiots.  In fact, the majority of them are rather lovely, moderately intelligent people.  And I probably do feel a bit superior as Castles are my “field of expertise”.  And to be honest, I know pretty much nothing about most other things in life.  So, basically, I’m in all likelihood the idiot.  But please, do give me my due.  At least I get to be “good” at Jumping Castles.  Not quite sure that this is the bright future that my parents had envisioned for me, but we all have to lower our expectations at some or other point.  I mean, it was hardly likely that I would be a concert pianist, despite my Gold Medal for my Piano Eisteddfod in Grade 4.

Another area that is quite interesting is the mode of transport of clients.  I ALWAYS tell clients, that the Castles are heavy, that they need a bakkie or alternatively that their seats of their car should be able to drop down.  And depending on the size of the Castle, we also need an extra pair of hands to load.  Now, I don’t just say this because I like the sound of my own voice.  There is indeed a reason – they are bloody heavy.  And time and again some little “tannie” or “poppie” will arrive on her own with her little Toyota Corolla.  Seriously!!!  The moral of the story, is that we nearly die lifting it into the car with much huffing and puffing.  I keep hoping that I’ll get thinner with all the heavy lifting that I’m doing, but I suspect that I’m just getting stronger.  So, don’t mess with me.

But without a doubt my favourite bit of my Castle business, simply has to be the unexpected bonuses that I receive.  You know, those little “surprises” that you never anticipate.  As in the “treasures” left behind on Castles.  Now don’t get me wrong.  I don’t expect them to come back to me in pristine shape after a kids’ birthday party.  A Castle is supposed to be enjoyed and provide entertainment.  That’s it’s job, nay, it’s entire purpose for existing.  So empty sweet wrappers, packets of chips, bits of wrapping paper, the odd lollipop, is entirely the norm.  What I do find strange though is some of the stuff.  Like a towel.  A whole big bath towel.  Again, seriously!  And then there was the time I got a ring – with a lovely fake “ruby” stone in it.  And shall I ever forget the time a client rolled up a frog into one of my Castles.  It wasn’t their fault, really.  I mean it can easily happen.  The client had a lodge up in Grabouw and they used the Castle for a corporate function, running till quite late at night in the middle of summer.  They packed up in the dark and Kermit slipped past them unwittingly.  No one could have known that we would have an unexpected rain spell that lasted a few days, thereby leaving me unable to clean the Castle timeously, as we do after each rental.  Words cannot describe the stench.  We simply could not get rid of the smell.  We kept the Castle inflated for 3 solid days, airing it and using every detergent known to man, to try and clean it.  And I’m happy to report that all that now remains of Kermit is a vague stain, outlining his little froggy legs.

But this week, I hit the mother lode.  Imagine my surprise when we cleaned one of the Castles, only to find a hearing aid on it!  I kid you not!  A friggin hearing aid!  I phoned the client and she nearly wept with relief.  The birthday boy’s grandfather had helped to roll the Castle up and his hearing aid must have fallen out.  The replacement cost is R15 000, so I said to her “Pardon me?”.

Perhaps I should have hung onto it for myself instead.