Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts

Monday, 7 July 2014

Pen for hire

Pen for hire
7 July 2014

Nearly two years after my blogging journey first started, I’ve got my first paid writing gigs.  Within a week of each other.  What are the odds?

Yes, indeed.  I am now a paid writer.  Of newsletters.

Hey, I think it’s pretty cool.  And I’m damn chuffed to have both the faith in me, and the bucks too.

The one is a weekly gig, and the other, a termly one.  And I enjoy the added challenge.

How funny is life?  Neither are about topics I’m overly familiar with.  Or knowledgeable about.  Yet, if the bare basics are supplied, it’s been proven that I can waffle on about anything.  Really, anything.  Fairly convincingly too.

A very good acquaintance contacted me out of the blue, to help her with her business newsletter.  A task that usually fills her with dread.  And lethargy.  I immediately agreed.  And believe it or not, but she absolutely loved my efforts.  And said that it was exactly the tone and style she was aiming for.  Yet couldn’t achieve on her own.

I mentioned this stroke of good luck, to a very good friend, who immediately replied, “Hey, won’t you help me too?”.  And luckily for me, she was utterly charmed with my penmanship as well.

And just like that, I was a paid author.  It’s true. 

Up to now, I’ve written for me.  For fun.  For enjoyment.  As a means of archiving my children’s childhood.  And as a diary.  A near daily slice of my life.  And I will continue with this, irrespective of other writing jobs.  It feeds me.  My heart and my soul.  And brings me great joy and fulfilment. 

But as for the whole commissioned writing thing?  Silly, but it means a lot to me.  These are my first spin-offs from the blog.  And in a way it both justifies my efforts and dedication to the blog, as well as endorses my writing skills.  Someone else thinks it’s good.  And it’s worthy.  In fact, they’re willing to put their money where their mouth is, and pay me for it.  For my skill, or gift.  A gift I never even knew I had.

Given the confidence they’ve put in me to project and portray their very personal businesses, I am deeply touched.  It is a huge honour.  And an extreme show of faith and belief in me.  In addition, it gives me value in my abilities.

One that I am deeply grateful for.

And given my absolute delight and pride at these opportunities, I don’t think that a weekly column in a glossy magazine could feel any more special. 

I feel victorious!

These are but baby steps.  But they’re my baby steps.  And I’m proud of them.

So I would just like to put it out there.  That I’m a gun for hire.  A mercenary.

Ready, willing and able.  My words are my weapons.  And I’ll wield them for you.

A big shout out to fabulous friends.  For faith, encouragement, support and unending belief.

You’ve given me wings.

Please click and LIKE on Facebook - Thanx!


Saturday, 27 April 2013

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 18th 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!!!
 
 
 

 

 

 


Wednesday, 24 April 2013

When I'm big, I want to be a .....


When I'm big, I want to be a .....
24 April 2013

One of the oldest questions ever.

What do you want to be when you're big?  A hugely important question actually, as the answer can set the tone, essence and quality of life, for the rest of that very same life.

And I would imagine that parents have been asking their offspring this question, since time immemorial.  Though I do suppose for pre-historic man, it was possibly slightly less important, as their options were rather limited.  And so for pre-historic boys, the question was perhaps, "do you want to drag a red haired girl around by her hair after killing your daily quota?".  "Or do you perhaps rather fancy yourself a brunette?".

The future career path of your child is rather important.  It affects so very, very much.  As a school going child, it affects their subject choices.  It affects their extra murals and the direction you help lead them into.  As a teenager and young adult, it can affect their dependency on you, as you have to support them whilst they are doing their studies.  And as an adult, it affects both your life and theirs, as a wrong choice or poor career path will severely affect their ability to be self-sufficient and independent, and drain your financial resources.

I remember dreaming big dreams when I was still a chillum.  I wanted to be an archaeologist like Indiana Jones.  A legal big wig, ruling the courts.  Convicting terrible criminals and always getting the baddie.  A beautiful and talented actress for sure.  A famous singer no less.  Possibly a teacher, teaching the littlies – my best.  A journalist, writing the most amazing stories ever.  A world class photographer.  A psychologist, helping to fix broken people.  But mostly, I simply wanted to be a mom.  And a really, really, really good one at that.

And now, as a parent, I am enjoying watching my kids future career dreams.  I have often asked them what they want to be.  And it is rather funny, seeing how their answers change as they get older.  As littlies, their job desires are completely unrealistic.  Being a superhero like Batman or Spiderman sounding ever so grand.  And let’s not forget a fairy princess, going to fancy balls all day long.  But even being an “ordinary” hero often plays a big role, and therefore they have expressed the odd policeman and fireman wish.  However, as they have gotten older, they have realised that these jobs are not glamorous at all.  Especially in sunny SA.  Furthermore, they are very dangerous and can potentially cost you your life.  And then sadly, they’re badly paid jobs too.  And so if earthly riches and comfort is your aspiration, these are not very wise career choices.

During his playschool and pre-school years, Luke expressed a deep desire to be a “hockey-hologist”.  Clearly archaeology dreams run big between the two of us.  Though I think Luke’s obsession came from his need to discover dinosaur bones.  And to be truthful, I sort of pandered to this.  I would plant coins in the garden, and send him out with a little bucket and a spade, and he would go a digging.  He absolutely loved it, and the joy on his little face when he finally found some loot was worth every cent it cost me.  Though, I was rather cheap.  I only planted 5c coins, though they had been spray painted gold for a pirate party I did for him one year.  He loved it!  And so this also led to a phase where he wanted to have a career digging for treasure.  Right!  But, I do find it funny, how sort of prophetic his “hockey-hologist” dreams were, as hockey is his very favourite sport in the world.  And a career as either a hockey player, hockey coach or sport physiotherapist with a hockey team, would be perfect for him.  And so, he now wishes to follow a career path, dealing with sports injuries and just with sport in general.  This has been pretty much a constant dream for the last few years.  Time will tell if it sticks though.  To be truthful, he did have a brief spell where he also toyed with being a lawyer.  I egged him on strongly in this direction, as he is just sooo good at arguing…..  However, the first time he told me that he didn’t have to do his Afrikaans homework, as it was an infringement of the South African charter for children and a violation of his most basic human right to receive education in his primary language, my sense of humour deserted me.  And then, just the other day, he decreed that he thinks being a car guard would be fantastic.  I am deeply troubled.  And much to his horror, when he told me about his wish to be a car guard (the child is fifteen, surely the bar has been set a bit higher by this stage?), I nearly crashed the car.  I laughed so hard.  I did apologise much later, but at the time, I nearly peed in my pants.  He was quite miffed with me actually.  Once I recovered my composure, I told him that it was a marvellous idea and that I was sure he would do really well.  I even suggested that we could go looking for a lovely little lumo reflective car guard vest so long.  You know, to make him stand out.  Quite funny, when a teenager’s biggest wish is to blend in.  I told him he was sure to look handsome in his vest and perhaps we could start finding out so long, where he would like his beat to be.  Perhaps at Checkers in Somerset West?  Or Pick ‘n Pay instead?  I felt it was only fair to warn him though about the continual risk of sunburn.  Something he fears most.  And so, he wisely decided that it would be best if he pursued his car guard dreams at the underground parking at the local Mall.  Yip, he’ll be financially dependent on me for life!

Now, as for my little Berry?  For the longest time, she wanted to drive a digger loader, and make roads.  I know, not your average little girl dreams.  Still she has always been a quirky kid and so I expected no less from her.  Naturally, she is also convinced that she is going to be both a world famous actress and singer too.  Can’t imagine where she got that from.  And for fun?  A super model.  Would anything else really suffice?  Her fascination with “make-ups”, lotions and potions since she was small, also led her to express a wish to be a beauty therapist.  And I am sure she would really love this, as it is right up her alley.  Especially if this allows her the opportunity to paint nails all day long.  And this would so play right into her personal grooming schedule, as it would give her a bona fide licence and excuse to wear oodles of make-up all day long.  However, she is amazingly talented with kids though, and personally I think that she would be a brilliant teacher.  She is exceptionally patient with small children and as a big sister, she has spent hours teaching Cole stuff.  And as for playing school-school!  She is fantastic!  She even has the mean teacher voice down pat, when her student is disobedient.  Though, her evil father, has thrown a spanner in the works.  Pretty much since birth, he has coached and coaxed her along the path to physiotherapy.  But, I know that he has done this for purely selfish reasons and personal gain.  He loves a good massage.  And with an eye on the endless supply of massages he would have on tap if his daughter was a physiotherapist, his motives are clearly not pure.  Still she has persisted with the physiotherapy thing quite a bit too.  Once again, time will tell.  But hey, chances are either which way, I could potentially score.  Either with loads of free make-up samples, or massages galore.

But perhaps, my wisest child of all, is Cole.  Whenever I ask him what he wants to be, he gives me a very quirky answer.  An answer always related to money.  And so for instance he’ll say, “a-policeman-so-I-can-drive-a-fast-car-do-they-make-lots-of-money?”.  All said in one continuous breath.  And if the answer to his question is “no”, then he simply changes his answer.  There is simply no way, that he will NOT be financially independent one day.  He likes money far too much.  His maths skills are not the greatest, however, any maths question, accompanied by a rand or dollar value, immediately escalates his ability.  In fact then he’s a fiscal genius and giant.  And so all career options for Cole, are always accompanied by the question “do …..(enter career) make lots of money?”.  Followed thereafter by his second most important question, “can I buy a fast car?” or “do …..(enter career) drive fast cars?”.  And so, just this past week, when the kids and I were driving in the car on the way to school, they were talking about what they want to be one day when they grow up.  And my boy Cole?  What did he answer?  What job does he want to do?  What does he want to be one day when he’s big?  Well, it was actually quite simple.  His answer was, “I want to be rich”.  And I’m sure he will be.  The actual career path he chooses to meet his end goal, will probably not matter much, as he is already focused on the outcome of that career.

In fact, I am one hundred percent convinced that Cole will meet his objective.  Of that I am positive.  And so, chances are that he will choose my Old Age Home for me one day, as he will probably have to pay for it too.  Which means that instead of him being financially dependent on me, my guess is that I will be financially dependent on him.  So best I be nice to that kid.  Which explains why I took his forgotten lunch box to school for him today.  Best I start sucking up now.

Still I suppose I’m better off than one friend of mine.  When her son was just five, he expressed a deep seated desire to be a postman.  This, the son of a pharmacist and a dietician.  He reckoned it was a way cool job to have.  You get to ride you bicycle all day long, post letters in post boxes and all the dogs everywhere always bark at you because they like you so much.  Right!  Good luck with that.  Still, possibly it is better than my uncle Willem.  When he was little he wanted to be an Assistant Train Driver.  Potentially a good choice, as there is way less pressure on the assistant than on the proper Train Driver.  And he could always pass the buck if there was a problem. 

Yet somehow, the Postman and Assistant Train Driver aspiration all seem rather glamorous when compared to those of my cousin, Maria.  When she was just a little chillum, she wanted to be a Police Dog.  And we never quite managed to figure out why.

Tuesday, 2 October 2012

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!!!

Monday, 23 July 2012

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.