Yautja Hoodies | TeePublic
Browse › Yautja › Hoodies
Super Jungle Hunter Bros. Hoodie
Preddy The Hunter Hoodie
Preddy's Jungle IPA Hoodie
Vitruvian Hunter Hoodie
Main Tag Predator Wearing 3d Glasses Hoodie
Predator 3D Hoodie KLAASSE SOULURGE - Name Numerology Meanings at NAMEANING.NET
Numerology soulurge information about KLAASSE:
Klaasse Expression, Klaasse Soul Urge, Klaasse Inner Dream
Kaitu Soulurge, Syuen Expression, Verica Expression, Horrach Soulurge, Carigan Expression, Hive Innerdream, Shampa Soulurge, Hanzon Innerdream, Sibongilemdluli Expression, Seibo Soulurge, Nivedita Expression, Graziella Innerdream, Xiros Expression, Kashauna Soulurge, Lucisano Expression, Kamsika Expression, Aethera Soulurge, Douchy Innerdream, Bennewith Expression, Klaasse Soulurge,
Girones, Albrite, Ouechtati, Kassius, Benavides, Laurianne, Cauffiel, Schraut, Mirandaanne, Veeranjaneyulu, Ashleman, Anchanayan, Leesment, Wiremu, Deseree, Llinos, Pretinha, Rithvin, Furulund, Bjorn, Amulet - Blog
R 1 - R 50
R 51 - R100
R 101 - R 200
R 200 -
Wall Quotes >
Toe ek jong en arrogant was, het ek altyd gesê, eendag as ek groot is wil ek ses maande in die Kaap bly en ses maande in die Transvaal. (Ja oukei, Gauteng – Gee ek nou lekker my ouderdom weg.) My arrogansie het nog verder gestrek – wanneer ek eendag in die Kaap bly, het ek aangedring, moet ek die see kan sien, anders kan ek net sowel in Emmarentia (JHB) bly. En aangesien my hare kroes as dit reën en ek nie die wind kan uitstaan nie, sal ek beslis my winters op die Hoëveld deurbring.
Nou ja, eendag is hier en ek is groot en ja ek bly in die Kaap, by die see (wat ek kan sien). En weet jy, nat winters is toe glad nie so sleg nie. Veral as jy heeldag die see kan sien. (Maar daai wind – eish!) maar nou ja, g’n Paradys is perfek nie. En hier in Hermanus kom die Walvisse in die winter kuier – hulle het nie ‘n saak met wind en stormweer nie, so wie’s ek om te kla?
Een van die groot redes hoekom ek van winter hou, is die klere. Ek is gebou vir winterklere. Boots, velvet, faux fur (met ‘n tikkie kant wat iewers uitloer)… Ek was ‘n Skandinawiese/Victoriaanse Prinses in my vorige lewe. En jy kan stilletjies ‘n paar pondjies aansit sonder dat iemand agterkom. Alhowoel ek (tussen my en jou) hierdie jaar stilletjies wil probeer om ‘n paar pondjies te verloor, maar ai dis nie maklik as jy ‘n koffiewinkel het nie! Talitha het met ‘n dekadente apple crumble met schticky toffie sous en room opgekom… Wyk Satan!
Hulle het beslis nie in die Victoriaanse dae geskeer nie en ek voel wintertyd is die tyd om die vel te laat rus. So laat daai been- en armhare groei, suster. As jou beter helfte klagtes het, gee hom toestemming om sy baard te laat groei. Spaar op lemmetjies, skeerseep, dis baie warmer en ook hoogmode (vir die manne, dames opsioneel). Die snor word deesdae op al wat ‘n dekor-item gesien maar ek’s nog nie heeltemal reg vir een op my bo-lip nie.
In die ou dae voor die Internet was winter nie goed vir inkopies nie. En elke mens het maar ‘n bietjie retail therapy nodig. Ek het intussen die wonder van Internet inkopies ontdek. Natuurlik is dit baie lekkerder om die item op te tel en te bevoel en van nader te bekyk, maar as die wind buite loei en dit sous nou al vir vier dae aaneen… ? Ek sweer ek weet nie hoe het Noag se vrou daai veertig dae en nagte oorleef nie. (sy het beslis nie haar beenhare geskeer nie!)
Am I the only person who loves winter?
I do some research. I ask my daughter who is wrapped up in an oversized purple blanket poncho (courtesy of her boyfriend). What do you like about winter? Her reply: Hot water bottles, Hot chocolate, cuddling with your boyfriend, the layered look, (in her case she wears all her boyfriend’s sweat shirts, tops and jackets) hot chocolate and marshmallows, cuddling with your boyfriend – yes you’ve mentioned that one, Sweetheart… Clearly winter has no negative effect when you’re young and in love.
I love winter because it’s still dark when I wake up. What’s so great about that you may wonder. I love the fact that I don’t have to rise and shine. It feels as if I’m the only person in the world who’s awake. I can lie in bed and gather my thoughts, listen to the ocean, pull the blankets over me and just snuggle. It’s just not the same in summer. I can’t snuggle when the sun is up – I feel way too guilty.
I love all the standard things about winter, our fireplace, our cats who want to sit on my lap, especially when there’s a laptop in the way! (Like right now). I love our dogs who think they are cats and also deserve a place on our laps. (We have a Labrador and a Rottweiler, not your standard lap-sitting material.)
I love the late afternoon sun that warms me and the snoring menagerie around me. And when that sun disappears behind the mountain and the cold descends I go and soak in a steaming hot bath… And turn the music on. Loudly. Luckily my neighbours are out-of-towners. And I love the rain. Yes, everything is very wet. But it is also very green.
Winter clothes and fabrics are my absolute favourite. It’s no secret that I adore velvet. I love it so much that I even wear it in summer. I have it all over my house, I even got married in velvet. I love hats, coats and boots. Hats hide a bad hair day (which face it, is a bit of a problem in the rainy/windy weather) but a coat is a woman’s best friend . A well-cut coat hides those little winter rolls. (and I’m not talking about the bakery variety, although that reminds me; nothing like thick soup, fresh bread and butter! Which of course explains why I need to wear my favourite coats all winter long!)
In my previous life (in Johannesburg) my daughter went to a posh private school. In the mornings the moms rocked up in their designer outfits and walked their little girls to their classes. I am not a morning person (which explains the morning snuggling in the dark) and I certainly didn’t have the time to dress up for school. Luckily I had this fabulous full-length red coat which I would wear over my pj’s, I’d pull on a pair of boots, wear big Jackie O sunglasses and voila! A designer mom in 60 seconds flat. If you spot me in the street in a red coat and boots (yes, I still have that red number) I may just be wearing my teddy bear pj’s underneath.
Mamma Mother Moekie Mams Mom Mère Mama Matka Madre Mor Moeder Mutti Mom Máthair Mater Mam Mammie
‘Hardloop, Elmo! Hard-l-o-o-p!’ Die blondekopseuntjie op die atletiekbaan is ‘n paar tree agter die voorloper, hy byt sy onderlip vas en sit daai bietjie ekstra in. Hy haal die lang donkerkop stadig in, hulle’s kop aan kop… Die res is ver agter. Dis net hulle twee… Dan raak die skare bewus van nog ‘n persoon aan díe kant van die baan. ‘n Kaalvoet blonde vrou hardloop al langs die veld, jy sien net beamptes spat… ‘Hardloop, Elmo, hardloooooop!’ Wie op aarde is die vrou wat so tekere gaan? Sy is my ma.
My liewe dierbare Moeder… wat glo haar drie kinders is die slimste, mooiste en talentvolste in die wêreld. En noudat sy kleinkinders het… is hulle uit die aard van die saak die vinnigste, slimste, mooiste, oulikste, soetste dierbaarste goetertjies op die aardbol… Haar ‘brag’boekie is altyd byderhand met die nuutste foto’s van haar kroos. En haar kroos se kroos… Die kroos se kroos se honde en katte… Trotse Ouma en die kroos… Klink dit bekend? Natuurlik. Ek ontmoet elke dag trotse Ouma’s in my winkel. Gee enige Ouma ‘n halwe kans en sy raak skielik tegnologies baie vaardig en wys jou die nuutste foto’s van haar kleinkind op haar selfoon. Sy kan miskien nie so lekker sms nie, maar sy kan ‘n kiekie binne ‘n sekonde optower. En jy ooh en aah saam met haar oor die tandelose, haarlose seuntjie… oops skuus is dit ‘n dogtertjie?… Ja, natuurlik kan ek sien dis ‘n ou meisietjie… Pragtige dingetjie, sy lyk op ‘n druppel nes Ouma.
Mamma. Mammie. Mams. Hierdie wonderlike wese het aande en aande met my gesit terwyl ek kwylend en huilend tande gesny het en op haar kerkrok naargeword het net voordat ons moes inloop vir my doop. Ma wees – die moeilikste job in die wêreld, met onmenslike ure en dit betaal ook nie eintlik goed nie. Wanneer begin die meeste mense hulle ma’s waardeer? Regtig waardeer? In my geval, toe ek self Ma geword het. Toe my dogtertjie in die hospitaal nie wou ophou huil nie, het ek heel eerste my ma gebel en raad gevra. Ek was skielik klein en onseker en die enigste mens wat dit kon beter maak was Mamma. En sy het. Want sy weet hoe. Want sy’s ‘n ma. My ma.
Wanneer ek Johannesburg toe gaan, is ek gelukkig genoeg om by my ouers te kan bly. En as ek uitgaan in die aande, kan my ma nie tot ruste te kom tot ek veilig by die huis is nie. Nes die dae toe ek ‘n tiener was. Nes ek deesdae nie rustig kan raak tot my dogter veilig terug terug in haar bed is nie. Ek onthou toe sy ‘n klein babatjie was, het ek die arme dingetjie partykeer wakkergemaak net om seker te maak sy haal nog asem… Nou nog staan ek soms in die middel van die nag op om te gaan kyk of sy nog in haar bed slaap… En daar is net niks mooier as ‘n slapende kind nie… Maak nie saak hoe oud sy is nie… Vra maar vir enige ma.
Talitha (Amulet se bestuurder) se ma bel haar elke middagete. Klokslag. Sommer net om te hoor hoe dit gaan. En dis nie asof Talitha al uit haar ouerhuis getrek het nie. Sy bly nog by haar ma-hulle. Want dis lekker en sy wil en sy kan. Gelukkige meisie. Sy bring ‘mammakos’ saam werk toe en natuurlik bak haar ma Amulet se nou al bekende kaaskoek. ‘n Jong meisie het vroeër die jaar ‘n spesiale dagboek vir haar ma by ons laat maak – Sy’t gevra dat ons voor op die dagboek skryf: Wanneer ek my seëninge tel, tel ek Mamma twee keer. Sjoe.
Dan is daar die mamma-dogter span wat saam ‘n troue beplan. Wel, soortvan. Hulle is gereeld in die winkel. Als wat die dogter kies, is verkeerd. Die ma kan nie wag dat die hele saga nou klaarkry nie. Haar dogter se gelukkigste dag klink of dit die grootste pyniging vir die bruid se moeder gaan wees. Maar die bruid bly blymoedig glimlag en hanteer die moeilike ou tannie se geteem met grasie. En dit laat my weer besef… net soos moeders hulle kinders onvoorwaardelik aanvaar… So aanvaar kinders hulle ma’s. Al hardloop hulle voor die hele skool al langs die swembad en moedig jou luidkeels aan al kan jy nie ‘n woord onder die water hoor nie. (My boetie was die atleet, ek was die swemmer, sussie die netbalspeler. Ma het geskree, maak nie saak wat of wie nie) My broer se dogtertjie is nou die atleet in die familie en Ouma se fut is nog nie uit nie – Sy sit die familie tradisie luidkeels voort. You gotta love her.
My teenage daughter and I have an interesting relationship. Of course we love each other, but we are very much alike. My husband conveniently just disappears into his study when Mother and daughter start arguing. ‘She’s your daughter,’ is his defence. Feeble excuse, coward, but he’s right. When I look into her eyes, I see myself, defiant and stubborn at 16. I was not an easy child. Life is fair, I suppose. Our children make us appreciate our mothers more.
When Jana was in pre-school the teacher helped her to make a mother’s day gift. It was a cute little empty box with a card that read: Mommy’s box filled with love. This of course drove me to tears. Jana couldn’t understand why I was crying. I explained that sometimes when a person is very happy you cry tears of joy. She promptly gave me an empty box (ranging from tissue boxes to washing powder boxes – which she emptied first) every day for a week – waiting to see those tears of joy. Needless to say she was completely taken aback by my tears of laughter. Yes, my sweet, mothers are complicated beings.
Moms are soft. They smell good. They forgive their children anything. They will take on anyone or anything to protect their young. They spoil us even if they can’t afford to. Happy Mother’s day to all those wonderful women out there. You deserve to be spoiled. Rotten. If you’re expecting your first-born, remember – When a child is born, so is a mother. Enjoy!
The most written about subject on this unpredictable planet of ours. Wars have been fought over it, millions of songs have been written about it, hearts have been broken… Countless good and bad poems, books and movies have love as the central theme… It’s this emotion that makes pubs, record companies and dating sites exist. Money makes the world go round, but according to Elizabeth Browning love is what makes the ride worthwhile. For years to come man and woman will continue this search for the four-letter L word. So what pearl of wisdom can I possibly add to this - the most overused, misunderstood and most desirable emotion of all time? The big guns like Shakespeare have already cornered the market. And it’s tough coming up with anything better than 1 Corinthians 13. Go read it again – it’s truly beautiful.
So for once I decide to do some Google research. I type in the word ‘love’ and within 0.25 seconds I am presented with 1,340 million results. I'm in way over my head here. Maybe I should rather just write about Romance. Within 0.12 seconds I have 194 million results. Okay, back to ‘love’ it is… I start scrolling down the page, searching for enlightenment. And lo and behold there it is: HOW TO LOVE. 8 STEPS. (WITH PICTURES) With pictures?! Are they serious? Note to self: Double-check what my teenage daughter is Googling. Of course I double click on the ‘how to love in 8 steps with pictures’. I’m human afterall and this is known as doing research… What did I discover? Trust me, save yourself the trouble. I find the average article on dealing with varicose veins at the doctor’s waiting room way more interesting than the drivel they came up with. For eg. Step one… Find someone you like… (Hello!)
So I decide to do some face to face research. Starting with an expert on the current world of romance and teenage love – my 15 (going-on-26) year old.
This is what I discovered: When you are 15, love is…
….getting an illegible (well, at least to your mother) message on your Blackberry from your cyber boyfriend. Just a modern version of the old-fashioned love letter I suppose… Actually in this technological age, the written word is making a come-back. Hence the popularity of wall quotes… Walls are adorned with positive, inspiring sayings… Words in all shapes and forms are seen in the best-dressed homes. Peace, hope, faith, family, celebrate, joy etc. And of course that most enigmatic word of all – love. I’ve also had a ‘relêx’ and an ‘eish’ for sale… But I digress… Back to the 15 year old expert who informs me that the ultimate love story is that between a vampire and a human… Like many girls her age she’s been completely taken by the Twilight Saga. Who am I to judge?… In my day it was the Rocky Horror Picture Show…
Next I interview my reluctant husband about the meaning of true love. Hard to pin him down – he’s channel-hopping. He can only concentrate on what I’m saying during ad breaks.
I suppose that’s one version of true love: still loving him eventhough he prefers Top Gear to my scintillating conversation. Finally I manage to get an answer from him between NCIS and CSI:
True love is helping your wife do the flowers at the 50th birthday party of another man – eventhough it is in fact your own birthday. And this is the actual truth. He did it. For me. Vowed never ever again, but he did. I swear Percy is a saint. Some readers have asked me if my hubby doesn’t get upset about the stuff I write. In my defense: I only write the truth.
Maybe true love is about softening the truth a bit… No, it’s not lying… what do you mean? It’s completely different from lying.
My man staan byvoorbeeld altyd reg met ‘n ‘jy lyk pragtig’ nog voor ek behoorlik uitgekom met met die vraag: Lyk ek darem…(skaflik)? ‘Jy lyk pragtig, skat.’ Noudat ek daaraan dink, dis darem te maklik… Seker maar jare se kondisionering. Nou die oggend sit ons en tee drink op die stoep en hy kyk met so ‘n ver af verliefde uitdrukking na my… My hart raak warm. ‘En as jy so na my kyk, my lief?’vra ek koketterig. ‘Huh?... Nee, ek word nog wakker.” Ware liefde voorwaar. Van my kant af.
So wat doen jy hierdie jaar op Valentynsdag vir jou geliefde? Ja, baie mense dink dis net ‘n geldmaakstorie. Maar om vir jou liefie ‘n blommetjie te pluk of te bederf met ‘n spesiale ontbyt kos jou niks – of gebruik jy die geld of die moeite as verskoning om niks te doen nie. Ek vra maar net.
Daar is ‘n wonderlike verhaal van ‘n jong tienermeisie wat sielsongelukkig was omdat sy nie ‘n kêrel gehad het nie. Sy was vas oortuig dat sy te vet, te lelik of te dom was. Een jaar kry sy vir die eerste keer ‘n Valentynskaartjie van ‘n geheime bewonderaar. Dit het haar hele lewe verander. Sy het uit haar dop begin kruip, stadig vriende op skool begin maak want sy het geweet iewers is daar iemand wat vir haar omgee. So het sy elke jaar ‘n Valentynskaartjie gekry van dieselfde geheime bewonderaar. Sy het elke kaartjie bewaar. En wanneer sy bietjie 'af' was, het sy die kaartjies oor en oor gelees en beter gevoel. Selfs na sy getroud is, het haar geheime bewonderaar aangehou om vir haar kaartjies te stuur. Klokslag. Elke 14e Februarie is ‘n kaartjie by haar huis afgelewer. Maart 2002 is haar pa oorlede. Die volgende Valentynsdag was daar nie ‘n kaartjie in die posbus nie…
Maak ‘n verskil in iemand se lewe hierdie Valentynsdag… Sommer elke dag.