As everyone knows I am a Ferrari Fan through and through but I do believe that this is perhaps the year that the mighty team may struggle. I think surprise opposition is going to come in the likes of Renault and Bar. BAR where there and there abouts last year and I do hope that this season sees Jenson win one of hopefully many race wins. As long as its not more then Michael. :thumbs:

Who do you think the teams/drivers that are going to be serious opposition to Ferrari or are Ferrari going to dominate again.?

The new season is only days away are we going to be able to have another fantasy formula one game? I see that there is nothing on the snowchicken website as yet? I have sent them an email.

I have got an avvie that I would like to use, so how can I actually go about changing it??

I receive a parcel from Italy today with Crema eGusto coffee....

On top of the coffee my friends put a bag of Rooibos tea. It is all printed in Afrikaans "Rooibos" at the top..... the picture on the envelope has two zebras on it, and then the name of the tea is called "Te dei Masai" or Massai Tee" Have never heard it called Massai tea before....

God Lives Under the Bed

-Unknown Author- My brother Kevin thinks God lives under his bed. At least that's what I heard him say one night. He was praying out loud in his dark bedroom, and I stopped outside his closed door to listen. "Are you there, God?" he said. "Where are you?

Oh, I see. Under the bed." I giggled softly and tiptoed off to my own room. Kevin's unique perspectives are often a source of amusement.

But that night something else lingered long after the humor. I realized for the first time the very different world Kevin lives in. He was born 30 years ago, mentally disabled as a result of difficulties during labor.

Apart from his size (he's 6-foot-2), there are few ways in which he is an adult. He reasons and communicates with the capabilities of a 7-year-old, and he always will.

He will probably always believe that God lives under his bed, that Santa Claus is the one who fills the space under our tree every Christmas, and that airplanes stay up in the sky because angels carry them.

I remember wondering if Kevin realizes he is different. Is he ever dissatisfied with his monotonous life? Up before dawn each day, off to work at a workshop for the disabled, home to walk our cocker spaniel,return to eat his favorite macaroni and cheese for dinner, and later to bed.

The only variation in the entire scheme are laundry, when he hovers excitedly over the washing machine like a mother with her newborn child. He does not seem dissatisfied. He lopes out to the bus every morning at 7:05, eager for a day of simple work.

He wrings his hands excitedly while the water boils on the stove before dinner, and he stays up late twice a week to gather our dirty laundry for his next day's laundry chores.

And Saturdays-oh, the bliss of Saturdays! That's the day my Dad takes Kevin to the airport to have a soft drink, watch the planes land, and speculate loudly on the destination of each passenger inside. "That one's goin' to Chi-car-go!" Kevin shouts as he claps his hands. His anticipation is so great he can hardly sleep on Friday nights.

And so goes his world of daily rituals and weekend field trips. He doesn't know what it means to be discontented.

His life is simple. He will never know the entanglements of wealth or power, and he does not care what brand of clothing he wears or what kind of food he eats.

His needs have always been met, and he never worries that one day they may not be. His hands are diligent.

Kevin is never so happy as when he is working. When he unloads the dishwasher or vacuums the carpet, his heart is completely in it. He does not shrink from a job when it is begun, and he does not leave a job until it is finished.

But, when his tasks are done, Kevin knows how to relax. He is not obsessed with his work or the work of others. His heart is pure. He still believes everyone tells the truth, promises must be kept, and when you are wrong, you apologize instead of argue.

Free from pride and unconcerned with appearances.

Kevin is not afraid to cry when he is hurt, angry or sorry. He is always transparent, always sincere. And he trusts God.

Not confined by intellectual reasoning, when he comes to Christ, he comes as a child. Kevin seems to know God - to really be friends with Him in a way that is difficult for an "educated" person to grasp. God seems like his closest companion.

In my moments of doubt and frustrations with my Christianity, I envy the security Kevin has in his simple faith. It is then that I am most willing to admit that he has some divine knowledge that rises above my mortal questions.

It is then I realize that perhaps he is not the one with the handicap - I am. My obligations, my fear, my pride, my circumstances - they all become disabilities when I do not trust them to God's care.

Who knows if Kevin comprehends things I can never learn? After all, he has spent his whole life in that kind of innocence, praying after dark and soaking up the goodness and love of God.

And one day, when the mysteries of heaven are opened, and we are all amazed at how close God really is to our hearts, I'll realize that God heard the simple prayers of a boy who believed that God lived under his bed. Kevin won't be surprised at all!

THE QUESTION OF PROTECTION ---
by Max Lucado

“If God is for us, who can be against us?” (Rom 8:31 NIV).

The question is not simply, “Who can be against us?” You could answer
that one. Who is against you? Disease, inflation, corruption,
exhaustion. Calamities confront, and fears imprison. Were Paul's
question, “Who can be against us?” we could list our foes much easier
than we could fight them. But that is not the question. The question
is, If GOD IS FOR US, who can be against us?

Indulge me for a moment. Four words in this verse deserve your
attention. Read slowly the phrase, “God is for us.” Please pause for a
minute before you continue. Read it again, aloud. (My apologies to the
person next to you.) God is for us. Repeat the phrase four times, this
time emphasizing each word. (Come on, you're not in that big of a
hurry.)

GOD is for us.

God IS for us.

God is FOR us.

God is for US.

GOD is for you. Your parents may have forgotten you, your teachers may
have neglected you, your siblings may be ashamed of you; but within
reach of your prayers is the maker of the oceans. God!

God IS for you. Not “may be,” not “has been,” not “was,” not “would
be,” but “God is!” He IS for you. Today. At this hour. At this minute.
No need to wait in line or come back tomorrow. He is with you. He could
not be closer than he is at this second. His loyalty won't increase if
you are better nor lessen if you are worse. He IS for you.

God is FOR you. Turn to the sidelines; that's God cheering your run.
Look past the finish line; that's God applauding your steps. Listen for
him in the bleachers, shouting your name. Too tired to continue? He'll
carry you. Too discouraged to fight? He's picking you up. God is FOR
you.

God is for YOU. If he had he a calendar, your birthday would be
circled. If he drove a car, your name would be on his bumper. If
there's a tree in heaven, he's carved your name in the bark. We know he
has a tattoo, and we know what it says. “I have written your name on my
hand,” he declares (Isa. 49:16).

God is with you. Knowing that, who is against you? Can death harm you
now? Can disease rob your life? Can your purpose be taken or your value
diminished? No. Though hell itself may set itself against you, no one
can defeat you. You are protected. God is with you.

Thought for the Day:

If God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it.
If He had a wallet, your photo would be in it.
He sends you flowers every spring.
He sends you a sunrise every morning.
Face it, friend - He is crazy about you!
God didn't promise days without pain, laughter without sorrow, sun without rain, but He did promise strength for the day, comfort for the tears, and light for the way.................

A Morning storyÂ….

Read this line very slowly and let it sink in... "If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it. " THE BRICK .A young and successful executive was traveling down a neighborhood street,
going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar. He was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something. As his car passed, no children appeared. Instead, a brick smashed into the Jag's side door! He slammed on the brakes and backed the Jag back to the spot where the brick had been thrown. The angry driver then jumped out of the car, grabbed the nearest kid and pushed him up against a parked car shouting, "What was that all about and who are you? Just what the heck are! YOU doing? That's a new car and that brick you threw is going to cost a lot of money. Why did you do it?" The young boy was apologetic. "Please, misterÂ… Please, I'm sorry but I didn't know what else to do," He pleaded. "I threw the brick because no one else would stop..." With tears dripping down his face and off his chin, the youth pointed to a spot just around a parked car. "It's my brother," he said. "He rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can't lift him up." Now sobbing, the boy asked the stunned executive, "Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He's hurt and he's too heavy for me." Moved beyond words, the driver tried to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in his throat He hurriedly lifted the handicapped boy back into the wheelchair, then took out a linen handkerchief and dabbed at the fresh scrapes and cuts. A quick look told him everything was going to be okayÂ… "Thank you and may God bless you," the grateful child told the stranger. Too shook up for words, the man simply watched the boy push his wheelchair-bound brother down the sidewalk toward their home It was a long, slow walk back to the Jaguar. The damage was very noticeable, but the driver never bothered to repair the dented side door. He kept the dent there to remind him of this message "Don't go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your attention!" God whispers in our souls and speaks to our hearts. Sometimes when we don't have time to listen, He has to throw a brick at us. It's our choice to listen or not.

Deur Cecile Cilliers


In die Engelsman se agterkop, het 'n vorige geslag dikwels smalend gesê, is daar vlugkans as dinge nie na sy sin verloop nie, want daar is die wete van 'n ander tuiste.

Vir 'n Engelsman is home Engeland.
Vir 'n jonger geslag klink dit waarskynlik vreemd, maar selfs tot in die laat 1950's, toe John as geoloog vir 'n Britse mynmaatskappy gewerk het, was hy (en ek saam met hom) ná vyf jaar diens op drie maande se home leave geregtig en die reiskoste Engeland toe vir die maatskappy se rekening. Van die mynbestuurders, wat feitlik deur die bank Brits was, het hulle kinders ook nie hier laat skoolgaan nie.

Selfs met sodanige imperialis tiese ondertoon het ons die gulde geleentheid nie laat verbygaan nie en drie maande deur Engeland en Europa getoer en is oral rojaal getrakteer. Alleen kon ons lekker oor die home leave lag, maar daarsonder sou ons waarskynlik so 'n reis nooit kon bekostig het nie. Want ten spyte van die groot insette van John se werkgewers, was die toer nogal duur. Veral die verblyf - dit was voordat bed-en-ontbyt oral wagwoorde geword het.

Ek het die Engelse beny wat by familie kon tuisgaan, of selfs in hulle eie huis kon gaan bly .

"Het ons dan geen voorsate of familie meer in Europa oor nie?" het ek by Pa geneul.

"Ons mense kom van die tweede skip ná Jan van Riebeeck," het hy gesê, "wees trots daarop."

En toe, nie sonder leedvermaak nie, bygevoeg: "En daar's nie 'n druppel Ingelse bloed in jou are nie!" ("More's the pity," het 'n Engelsman my getroef toe ek die storie oorvertel.)

Ja'k. Hugenote-nasaat is ek en volgens Pa se berekening 14de geslag Suid-Afrikaner, en die volgende geslag, my kinders, hulle wat na die oupas en oumas genoem is, sit almal in die buiteland. En, vreemde ironie, al hulle kinders praat Engels.

Met die dubbele munt van Max en Dan by die Stellenbosse Woordfees, en Cameron Dugmore aan 't toi-toi buite die hof, wonder ek: Waar, op die keper, lê my lojaliteit?

Luister ek vroeër dié week na 'n jong kunstenaar wat hartstogtelik sing "Mama Afrika, jy wat ons almal se moeder is, jou tyd het gekom . . .".

In watter mate vereenselwig ons ons met sy lied, met hierdie Afrika? Woorde van pres. Mbeki bly maal in my gedagtes: 'n Sakeman uit Nigerië, vertel hy, gee aan hom sy kaartjie waarop sy Nigeriese adres voorkom én sy adres in Parys. Afkeurend sê die president: "To be an African is not to have a second address."

Ons ganse lojaliteit moet by hierdie land, en amper meer as dit, by hierdie kontinent, lê. Daar mag (selfs in ons onuitgesproke verlangens) geen ander heimat wees nie, geen home waarheen ons kan uitwyk nie.
Hierdie land soos hy nou is, hierdie kontinent, moet ons tuiste wees, ons tuiste bly.

Dit vra nogal durf, want ek dink baie van ons het nog 'n tuiste - miskien in eie taal, miskien in Afrikanerskap, miskien in die Westerse kultuur - anders as net in Afrika.

Toe ek dié week in die stad by die Portugese ambassade vir 'n visum gaan aansoek doen, vra die donkerkop vrou met die sagte stem: "Watter waarborge kan jy gee dat jy na hierdie land sal terugkeer?"

Ek het die finansiële waarborge gegee - na die ander het sy nie gevra nie.

I just can't think....

Hubby invited some VIP's over for Sunday lunch, and I have been hacking my brains as to what to feed these lovely people.... so I devised the following menu.... Not sure if it will work tho, 'coz do you serve Red or white wine, as the starter is fishy and the mains is meaty.... so please give me your opinions, and if possible some suggestions and additions..... :mmm: ..

Starters: Creamy Fish cowder with shrips and maybe a mussel or two to make it look posh

Mains: Fillet steak (2 pieces each) on a bed of crushed creamy potatoes with Red Pepper pesto

Desert: My version of crepes.. in other words, just small boere pannekoek, but when I make the batter I will add a bit of vanilla extract in for extra flavour, served with a sugar syrup with Melon Vodka and puree Melon with Vanilla Ice Cream.

So what do you think??