öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖöo

          - Hello there . . .

          - Inside Story

          - Does Absense Make the Heart Grow Fonder?

         - eNonyMouse

          - More About Pookie - Hail To The Chief
          
          - Leave Your Children in the Dust
          
          - Seven Things Happy People Have in Common
          
öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖ

…you with the stars in your eyes, a grasshopper brain and
thoughts without boundaries…

I seem to have lost my sense of humour and I'd like it back.
Things I would normally find amusing only irritate and I can think
of nothing pleasant to say. Unfortunately no-one needs to read a
diatribe so I have the next best thing to writer's block.

Our weather continues to be awful and a short while ago I sent a
gloomy text message to one of my daughters, complaining about
the wind and rain. (Foolishly I felt that sharing my misery would
cheer me up.)

Back came her reply. 'I'm at Kariba and it's boiling hot.'

Kariba is Zimbabwe huge inland lake where the temperatures soar
and the houseboaters bask in constant sunshine.

Did that make me feel better? Certainly not!

Clearly this calls for drastic action. To relieve the pressure and
prevent me murdering someone, I have just changed this, the
November issue, to the Nov/Dec issue - and hopefully by the New
Year this too will have passed.

As I can't produce anything worth reading I'll dig in the archives -
again - and continue to be thankful for outside contributors.
Having now committed two cardinal sins (skipping an issue and
admitting to subscribers I haven't a clue what to write) I can only
ask for patience and forgiveness.

Next year will be better.

It usually is...

öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo

NEWBIES, NERDS & NITWITS
'Support' ezine for everyone needing a helping
hand with their first forays around a PC and the
Internet.
Subscribe today by sending a blank email to: NerdsAndNitwits

To view all previous issues surf to: Archives

VISIT the website - read the most recent issues -
NewbiesAndNitwits.com

öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo

AFTER that appalling 'intro', written by you know who, you'll have
guessed things are somewhat fraught around here - and I'm the
one who's suffering the most, naturally.

Nothing I do is right (so what's new?) but the precious dogs are
also out of favour. In addition someone has been poisoning the
cats Sheldene feeds at the beach (only two left out of 28) so of
course she's depressed - but in her case it can only be described
as manic depression.

The visitors I was not allowed to meet ( I was sent on leave,
remember) have been and gone in a flurry of high winds and wet
weather.

Now she's gearing up for the Christmas contingent with much
groaning and gnashing of teeth, reminding me once again of all the
endearing qualities Sheldene shares with Scrooge.

At least I'm not hearing quite so much about thinking the right
thoughts and happiness is...etc etc. In fact she came across an
article today which suggested one should do a complete reversal
and become totally negative for a few days. The author actually
insists that doing this will make you laugh your head off, eventually.

Needless to say this really appealed to Sheldene - first time there's
been a glimmer of enthusiasm for weeks. Not only is she already
putting the negativity into practise, she'll be forcing that article on
you early next year.

You have been warned!

Perhaps I should also be warning her hapless Christmas guests, but
the two-faced beast will probably switch into charming mode a few
seconds before they are due to arrive.

If you only knew what I have to put up with. I know I've told you
before that jobs are hard to come by around here...I might even
emigrate in 2003.

(What a good idea! - Ed.)

öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo

CONFUSED BY EMAIL?
Are You Totally Confused by the complexities of Email? Don't
know about email accounts, clients, web based, headers, virus
killers, Subject lines, Pop 3's, aliases and all the other
Gobbledygook? The picture-driven 'Email for Newbies' from the
Newbie Club, will solve your frustrations immediately.
Look at it here

öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo

I INTEND to keep this brief - and not make cross-references to the
2000 other annoyances I could go into - mainly because I'm saving
these for the book I'm secretly writing, and which will be called I
Married A Moron.

Rumour has it that my husband is ghost-writing a document
entitled Wedded To A Wierdo, so this could be a race to the finish.

Some time ago he moved to a stud farm at the foot of the
Drakensberg mountains in order to continue his love affair with
thoroughbred horses - and knowing full well I was unlikely to agree
to live in such a cold climate.

Since then although he's come to warm his toes in the sea a few
times, I hadn't visited Mooi River. However at the weekend I
graciously agreed to head for the hills and inspect the premises
(which, incidentally, weren't great).

As this is in brief I won't tell you why I chose to take two of the
unruliest dogs with me. Please just accept that I did and it was a
pretty nerve-racking journey as they are not used to travelling.

Between us Keith and I have one fax/answer machine and one
cellphone and, in the recent temporary division of spoils, he took the
fax and I kept the 'cell' -and naturally had the latter with me.

Apart from being told the farm was on the left, before one reached
the toll at Mooi River, I hadn't a clue where I was heading. Travelling
along the main Durban to Johannesburg freeway, I was to draw off
the road, after Nottingham Road, in order to phone Keith who
would be waiting to take my call in the farm office. He would then
nip down to the freeway, open a farm gate, then stand on the
roadside waiting.

People don't usually stand on the side of this particular highway
(we're now talking deep in the country) so I was never, at any
stage, worried that I might miss him.

As instructed I stopped at Nottingham Road to make the call - AND
HE WASN'T IN HIS OFFICE WAITING.

Not being allowed to linger on the edge of this road I had no choice
but to set off again as slowly as I dared on this particular racetrack.
Needless to say there was no sign of an erring husband waiting at
the side of the road and, surprise, surprise, there we were at the
Mooi River tollgate.

Hyperventillating from fury, I asked for directions, paid the toll
money and soon realised I had been directed to an area which
housed only car hijackers.

Beating as fast a retreat as possible on this dangerously potholed
non-road, I made my way, seething, to the most respectable
looking service station - where I discovered the dogs had been sick
over everything.

By this time I had left at least three threatening messages on the
farm fax/answerphone and was well-nigh apoplectic. The fourth and
last message went something like 'I am leaving the garage now to
look for the **** stud farm, and if I don't ****well find it I'm going
straight back to Toti!'

Well I did find it - because I am an unrecognised genius - and Keith
was very pleased to see me when I found him, by the side of the
freeway, waiting. 'We must have just missed each other, by inches,'
he said.

Which is why I am likely to die of high blood pressure while he goes
on for ever and ever.

Back at the farmhouse the answering machine was flashing madly -
but he very sensibly deleted all my virulent messages.

©2000 Sheldene Chant

öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo

PLEASE FORWARD Pearls & Pigs to friends, but when doing
so ask them NOT to remove you from the list by accident.
Alternatively, before you forward, delete the easy 'remove
yourself' link which now appears at the bottom of all the mail
lists Topica sends out.

öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo

PLEASE RATE THIS EZINE

Please rate this Ezine at the Cumuli Ezine Finder

Editor’s note: When you click to rate us please make
sure you check the number. It’s automatically set at 5,
but you can go as high as 10. Make sure you change
it to the number you want

öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo

eNonyMouse

He who laughs last, thinks slowest.

On the other hand, you have different fingers.

Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine.

Seen it all, done it all, can't remember most of it.

Those who live by the sword get shot by those who don't.

You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say will be
misquoted,then used against you.

How much deeper would the ocean be without sponges?

öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo

FREE TUTORIALS BY AUTORESPONDER

If you are thinking about making your own web page, or
merely want to exercise your brain slightly, then send for
the web page tutorials by clicking web tutorial
Want to find files fast ?- then click FindFiles
Organising your computer - click here

öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööOoo

*More about Pookie

THERE was definitely something missing after Adrian's monkey,
Pookie, had been relocated to the animal sanctuary at Chipingali.
Home wasn't the same without that slight air of menace - but we
had absolutely no difficulty adapting.

Living with Pookie was an experience I wouldn't have missed
as there had been plenty of amusing and endearing moments.
I had learnt a lot (and would in future make no attempt to
convert wild animals into domestics), but what a relief to be once
again living in a household where the pets, more or less, knew
their place.

Every day our sense of peace and tranquility strengthened -
only to be shattered by a telephone call.

The decision to send Pookie to Chipingali animal sanctuary
had been virtually painless because we knew he would be with
other 'displaced' monkeys whose eventual destination was a
return to the wild (in this case an island on Lake Kariba).

We were sure Pookie had longed to be reunited with his own
kind and felt we were giving him the ultimate gift - the chance to
live free. All these beliefs kept us feeling both good and guiltless
because the last thing we wanted to do was to either abandon
or ill-treat an animal.

As it turned out we were responsible for some serious ill-treatment
- but only indirectly.

When I first took the 'phone call, I assumed the Chipingali people
were kindly reporting on Pookie's progress and I suppose they
were, in a roundabout way. However the main purpose of the
conversation was to confirm that, in addition to Pookie's pocket-
money, we would now start contributing towards another
monkey's medical expenses.

Pookie the Terrible had disembarked in Bulawayo, been taken to
Chipingali and introduced into the troupe (carefully and with every
consideration). It took him a day or two to get his bearings,
whereupon he attacked the troupe leader, savagely, vanquishing
him completely and inflicting horrible wounds in the process.

His new minders were not amused. It was as if we had sent a child
off to boarding school, secretly equipped with a couple of hand
grenades.

Well of course we paid - and tried to suppress the thought that
Pookie was sitting in the pound seats now he had his very own
troupe, including a harem.

After that I was too embarrassed to enquire about his progress,
but was eventually informed the troupe had been successfully
transferred back to the bush.

Chipingali was famous for its work with wild animals and it would
not have been a case of loading up the monkeys, then simply
hurling them onto an island. The troupe would have been
monitored every step of the way. I only hope this worthwhile
institution has survived Zimbabwe's most recent upheavals.

As far as I was concerned that should have been the end of the
monkey saga, but only a few months later I returned from work to
find my three school-going children waiting beside the garage, and
looking sheepish.

Any form of reception committee usually meant trouble and this
was no exception. When I took a closer look I saw Miranda had
an exceptionally tiny monkey nestling in her hair, while sucking
her ear.

I could only stand and stare.

I quote: Some wicked person had killed its mother, then sold the
baby to a pupil at their school. This child didn't know how to look
after a baby monkey, so the Chants, being monkey experts, took
the baby (I decided not to ask how).

This was the start of another learning curve because the new
monkey was pitiful rather than vicious and desperately wanted his
mother.

We managed to sort out the food requirements but the little
creature became frantic when not attached to someone's ear.
So day and night we passed him from lobe to lobe and if
there was no ear available the monkey had to be shut in a
room.

At that time Keith's assistant trainer, Stuart, lived with us and used
to return from riding 'work' at about 9 a.m., his only aim being
to bolt down some breakfast and fall into bed.

This time of the morning tended to be one of the down times as far
as available ears went and Stuart did not intend to volunteer.

Anatoria, however, was used to dealing with difficult people so she
frequently shut the tiny monkey in Stuart's room, then flatly denied
it when he questioned her prior to opening his bedroom door.

Consequently the monkey was attached, and sucking, before he
had even stepped inside - and Stuart claimed he was heading for a
nervous breakdown due to lack of sleep.

Things were already assuming nightmare proportions while we were
still at the sucking, not the biting, stage.

Then I heard of a man at the Tobacco Research Board who was
collecting a troupe of monkeys, for eventual rehabilitation. Better
still he already had a mother monkey who would almost certainly
agree to take on a replacement baby.

I was SO thankful....and I promise you that really is, THE END.

© Copyright 2000 Sheldene Chant

*The seven previous articles about Pookie can
be found in the April, May, June, July, August,
September and October issues. Links at the top
of this page.

Ööº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo

I USED to think that scientific researchers had one main
goal in life: spoiling our fun. If they found us eating meat,
they'd show us we're at risk for heart disease. If they found
us smoking, they'd show us we're at risk for lung cancer. If
they found us wrestling, they'd show us we're at risk for brain
atrophy.

Scientist: 'My research shows that your wrestling career,
with so little brain activity, may result in atrophy.'

Professional wrestler: 'Wow! That's great news! I've always
wanted a trophy.'

My skepticism about researchers is fading though, thanks
partly to a new study that promises to make my life easier.
The study suggests that a dusty home may be healthier for
children.

No, that's not a misprint. Dust is good for kids, according
to the surprising study, which wasn't sponsored by the
Hoover Vacuum Co.

Apparently, early exposure to germs in household dust helps
children build strong immune systems, protecting them from
developing allergies or asthma. Excuse me for a moment while
I slide my four-month-old daughter across the back of my
television set. Nothing like solving two problems at once!

Next time my wife complains about dust in our home, I'm
going to shake my head and say, 'Please try to think about
the baby! She needs all the dust she can get. Why else do
you think I've been emptying the dustpan in her crib?
Instead of complaining, you should be nominating me for
Father of the Year.'

Some of my friends, I'm sorry to report, have spotless,
immaculate homes. Their children can't even find dirt on
their television sets, except by watching Howard Stern.
Someone ought to call the health department. Their homes
may need to be quarantined. Perhaps they should be required
to take a course in hygiene.

Allergies are a growing problem in industrialized countries,
what with everyone relying on antibiotics and antibacterial
cleaners to keep germs away. If there's one word that
captures the obsessive cleanliness of today's generations,
it's 'Atchoo!'

My wife has long warned me about household cleaners,
concerned that they do more harm than good. Indeed, some
of the chemicals I've used in our bathroom are so powerful,
there's a law against exporting them to Iraq. We wouldn't
want Mr Hussein to get his hands on Mr Clean.

In case you're wondering, the study was conducted in
Switzerland, Austria and Germany, where farm children are
exposed to many germs. (Now you know why it's called
Germany.) Though their bedding contains a lot of dust,
farm children have fewer problems with allergies. And
unlike children in urban areas, they aren't even allergic to
hard work.

Given these findings, it may be a good idea to let your
children sleep in a sandbox. But here's a caveat: Too much
dust can be harmful. Consult your doctor on the right amount
for your child.

Coming soon to a store near you: Johnson & Johnson's
Baby Dust. Not just for the baby's bottom. If your child
gets into the bottle, you can just smile and say, 'Bye-bye
allergies! Another one bites the dust.'

Remember: In the modern world, it's not survival of the
fittest. It's survival of the filthiest.

(c) Copyright 2002 Melvin Durai. All Rights Reserved.
________________________
Melvin Durai is an Indiana-based writer and
humorist. A native of India, he grew up in Zambia
and moved to the U.S. in the early 1980s. Read his
previous columns at http://www.melvindurai.com
For a free subscription to his columns, send a blank
mailto:FunnyColumns

Ööº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo

We are pleased to be members of the Ezine Publishers
Association! Join here

öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo

EVER notice how some people just seem to be able to be content
and bounce back no matter what the circumstances? Research
shows that this isn't a gift or a talent - it's a skill that they have
developed. Surprised? Well, the real surprise is that you too can
put to work their techniques and make your life happier too.

1. Happy people co-operate with life.

Each person has a destiny to fulfill. You can fight it or co-operate
with it. Does that mean you just lay back and let life happen? No.
But you can adopt the attitude that you will play the cards you are
dealt the very best you can. When you begin to co-operate with
life, you will notice new ways in which you are motivated. Life wants
you to realize your destiny. Wouldn't you rather co-operate than
battle with life?

2. Happy people don't just think positive, they act positive.

Thinking positive definitely has its place, and you'll need to change
your thoughts to ever be truly happy. But don't wait on the feelings
to come. You have direct control over how you act and what you
think (feelings and physiology are indirectly affected). If you want to
be a happier person, act happier. If you want to be a more
compassionate person, act more compassionate. If you want to be
a friendlier person, act friendlier. The feelings will follow.

3. Happy people ask for what they need.

Good things don't generally just fall out of the sky. Complaining gets
you nothing, except to attract you to other complainers. If you
believe that 'you reap what you sow', then asking for what you
want makes much more sense than sowing complaints. It's your
choice-- you can choose to point fingers and assign blame, and still
end up with nothing. Or you can simply ask.

4. Happy people are willing to change.

It's contrary to all laws of nature for things to stand still. If you try
to make that happen, you'll always be disappointed. If you let fear
of change stop you, you are in essence *agreeing* to not having
what you want. You can believe that change will harm you and
resist it. Or you can embrace it and believe that it will help you. It
all depends on what you decide to believe.

5. Happy people don't allow themselves to be defeated.

A failure or setback does not mean that the goal will never be
yours, nor is it evidence that you should quit. It simply means that
you need more practice, more experience. Be willing to make
mistakes. Don't give up. Don't allow one slipup, or setback from
the outside, influence you to erase all the progress you've made.
Feel the joy of the finish line!

6. Happy people live in the present.

If you are alert to the present, and anticipating the future, you are
better able to take advantage of opportunities. If you are brooding
over the past, you'll be blinded to present possibilities, and lose the
advantage for future prospects. A happy life is the product of living
a great present. And a well lived present is a guarantee of a
wonderful future. You can only affect your future by what you do
today.

7. Happy people plan ahead.

Happy people know that they must exercise mastery in their lives,
show control in their life in order to guard against feelings of being
helpless and victims. Planning is essential to getting things done.
Planning is essential to making sure you are spending time on your
priorities, and not just the next thing that gets your attention. Plan
for what's important to you, and choose to spend your limited time,
money, energy, and resources on it.

(c)2002 Kathy Gates
______________________________
Kathy Gates, Professional Life Coach, is author of the
Ebook, '7 Secrets to a Great Life'. She can help you
create goals, overcome procrastination, organize your
time and money, find your true passion, and learn to
love the Real You. Visit RealLifeCoach.com
email mailto:Kathy or call 480.998.5843 today

öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖoo

öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖoo

Copyright 2002 Poignant Pearls & Potbellied Pigs

öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖöo

LIST MECHANICS

TO JOIN: Please send a BLANK email to
Topica

VIEW PREVIOUS ISSUES AT -
Topica Lists or go to SheldeneChant.com

CONTACT INFO: Sheldene Chant (Publisher), 6 Strapp
Lane, Amanzimtoti 4126, KwaZuluNatal, South Africa.
Fax:27-31-9031635. email:sheldene@icon.co.za .

öÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖö°*º*°öÖööÖo