Hi, Yes am getting newsletters – thanks a mill. Funny how you only get feedback about “wrong thing” but never “right things”.
Your newsletter is a “RIGHT THING” and much enjoyed especially good for a good belly laugh which is supposed to be good for the body – depends on how fat you are and how much “wobbles”. I “wobble” with glee every time I get your Newsletter.
Keep it up.
Thanks so much for your time and effort.
Marian & Phyllis Anderson
So look on the left of the page near the top and subscribe. Apart from the Newsletters, you will be able to get "early warning" messages about serious current health threats.
Easy to opt in and to opt out.
The same mail listing is used for PeeCee Manufacturing Chemist
Much to be gained!
Friday, October 13, 2006
Friday, October 06, 2006
These bathsalts are 2 die for!
Bathsalts
All salts are made with either Sea Salt, Rock Salt, Magnesium Sulphate, Sodium Bicarbonate or a combination of those.
Oils used are true Essential Oils and other fragrances are water soluble perfumed oils.
The invigorating range of Bath Crystals comprises the following:
1. Lavender - the age old feeling of well-being when surrounded by the wonderful bushes of Lavandula angustifolia or commonly known as English Lavender is replicated in the essence of this bath crystal. It has a soothing and calming effect on the nerves, relieving tension, depression, panic, hysteria and nervous exhaustion in general and is effective for headaches, migraines and insomnia. Lavender relieves pain when used for rheumatism, arthritis, lumbago and muscular aches and pains.
2. Rose - apart from the amazing sensation of being in a bed of roses it also soothes and harmonizes the mind and helps with depression, anger, grief, fear, nervous tension and stress and at the same time addresses sexuality, self-nurturing, self esteem and dealing with emotional problems.
3. The Woods - ever been in a real Pine Forest? Not only the smells, the ambience, the soft light; it is a deeper awakening of the senses.
This bath salt contains Pine Oil combined with Frankincense to address a variety of upper respiratory tract conditions - the Frankincense clears the lungs and helps with shortness of breath, asthma, bronchitis, laryngitis, coughs and colds while the warming properties of Pine help with rheumatism, arthritis, gout, muscular aches and pains and it can stimulate circulation.
Got the sniffs or just feeling blocked up and locked out?
You know where to go and what to pick up.
And did I mention that the presentation of these salts are designed to blend with the best in bathrooms or spa areas. Real stunners if I may say so
Monday, September 25, 2006
Newsletter September 2006
Second-hand suppositories and other less welcome issues...
...and let it never be said that this is not the way to open a community newsletter. It is miles (ok, meters in multiples of one thousand for the metric babies) better than any national newspaper on any day in recent months (years?).
Some day, hopefully sooner rather than later, I will experience a wondrous moment in time: I will find a newspaper front-page that is not bleeding, gasping, dying or already beyond rigor mortis.
I will grab said hypothetical newspaper in both hands and publicly rejoice. I will inform everyone within reach, in no uncertain terms, that this particular newspaper caries GOOD NEWS!
Then I will go clean myself and my immediate area, pick up the phone and call the editor.
Then I will probably wake up and realise that is was all just a figment of my imagination. A dream. There just seem to be no good news from any paper these days, and especially not from our local TV stations and in particular, nothing from the politically biased, openly vindictive guy on SABC’s Morning Live!
At least I have some good news today: “There is no such thing as a second-hand suppository”.
Yes, one can maybe share some medicine (never a good idea) but some are better if used once and never again - least of all by the neighbours.
Before I get emotionally carried away again, let us drop the (sorry) issue of SA Today. (Maybe I must start a newsletter on the Internet called SA Today. Anybody interested?)
While on the subject of the Internet, and immediately I’m trespassing on one of my Newsletter rules not to advertise via this medium, please go look at the following web-sites if you can:
http://uvongopharm.blogspot.com
and soon http://www.peecee.co.za
The first one gives you some information about the new PeeCee Bathroom range which we are now manufacturing, the second one has been around for a long time and contains the newsletters, some medical info, a facility where you can subscribe to my mailing list and then the last one will soon be the official commercial web site for PeeCee Manufacturing Chemist. We are going to take our product range into a much wider market area and the web is just the beginning.
As they say in the classics, ‘watch this space’.
So, in keeping with the classical format of previous newsletters, what else will be deemed less welcome (according to the opening header)? I should complete the statement somewhere.
I do not know; you tell me? What else is less welcome in our (your) life? We have already determined that certain dosage forms are less welcome if slightly pre-used (wonderful phrase emulating from the second-hand car industry). Also, certain personal items like reading glasses are less welcome if pre-read (phrase courtesy of the second-hand book store).
So what do we do with the stuff in our lives that are less welcome?
Maybe one must do the ‘cleansing thing’? Make your list of all that is not welcome anymore and then ruthlessly weed them out. If, on the other hand your list contains the names of your neighbour or your pharmacist, rather just opt to ignore them; no weeding please.
I am of cause referring to inanimate objects of irritation (IOI) – (try saying that acronym without your teeth might cause permanent paralysis of the cheek muscles).
Here is what we need to do: Brave the attic, storm the garage, enter the Wendy House with courage, pull open those long-forgotten drawers in the spare room, wherever you need to go, make your list. Divert stuff to junk. (Sounds very computer-like doesn’t it?) Yes, if you haven’t used it in five years, forgotten all about it, hated it from the beginning; divert to junk!
At this point I might want to quote some wise person from somewhere saying something like “Junk is something you desperately needs two weeks after you threw it away”.
Now, if this person was correct, his little piece of wisdom would have made him famous and as such he or she would not be referred to as ‘some person’, now would it? So, assumption, this person was wrong. Which means divert it to junk.
So once your list is complete, take said items to the waste disposal, or donate it to somebody who might need it, or sell it on E-Bay or at the local Ctenocephalides canis markis or commonly known as the Flea Market. Point is, get rid of it. Make space in your home. Make space in your life. Part with the old and redundant. In a sense, it is sort of a re-birth.
Go back often to that empty area you created in your garden shed, enjoy the space, and ponder a moment on the purpose of life which is to renew, to grow. To go forward boldly even though we always need the past to teach us and guide us in the right direction. Take your own body for instance; all the cells are replaced all the time regardless of your age. They are replaced (represents re-birth) according to the message and code in your genes (represents the past) to form new cells and in the process old cells die and the body gets rid of it (divert to junk).
Lesson over.
What is achieved with this whole exercise apart from keeping you away from the doom and gloom of the newspapers?
Just think of it as some sort of cleansing. Make way for something new. Detox your life. Feel refreshed and free. It works. Trust me.
In conclusion, please do not give the stuff to me, do not dump in illegal areas, do not offer to pay any accounts with old wristwatches or refurbished dentures from the pre-war era, do not accidentally get rid of any golf clubs, bicycles, magazines, fishing gear, stuffed animals without the explicit permission of the owner of said articles of household disagreement.
That being said and all, let us be joyous; Spring has sprung. Question is just, where?
To the
To the rest of the world, greetings from the attic,
Pieter & Renette Naudé
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Newsletter August 2006
Why, oh why, oh why…?
The front page of the Fever newspaper dated 25 August 2006 ran a full page article headed: “Another cold-blooded killing”. It told the horrible story of the senseless shooting and subsequent killing of our very popular Beeld newspaper Distribution Agent, Schalk Visser. He was statistic number X on the now fast becoming notorious, N2 toll road, earlier this week.
I do not need to and definitely do not want to repeat any details here, but I can vouch that Schalk, as an agent, as a patient of ours, and as a human being, will be seriously missed. Not only did he deliver my newspaper personally every morning; come sickness or inclement weather, he also had a little special greeting or short piece of wisdom to share ever so often. Schalk, God bless, and to Kotie, may His peace and love guide and embrace you and your family in these troubled times.
Which brings me to exactly the point in question; these troubled times. What is being done to ease the pain of our nation and country going to the dogs and rushing back towards the Middle Ages? I thought the new generation all firmly believed in the exponential expansion of the universe which dictates that after the initial “Big Bang” explosion everything is supposed to be moving away from the initial point of density, (including – and especially; Time), but no, in our beloved country (pun intended) we seem to be heading forward towards the past.
Not only are we reminded relentlessly of our immediate past and the supposed atrocities of said era, we are also accelerating at more than a dizzy rate back to the barbaric middle ages and even before that.
The Five W’s:
Who is going to stop this landslide into the abyss?
What is needed to bring back the future?
When is the pendulum going to reach the apex?
Why are we expected to absorb all this mayhem?
Where is the point of no return?
Dear reader, normally my newsletters are marked by, (and from what I’ve been told,) quite popular, because of some degree of humour expressed, but this month I cannot comprehend the funny side of anything. I am sorry, in these times of sorrow, of violence, of fear, of hate, a little one-page newsletter by some weird guy trying to be funny might not seem significant to most, but I normally treasure the opportunity to make just a few people smile while reading my strange mind, printed in a letter. This time, however, I doubt. I am too upset to entice even a smirk!
Last point on this issue: Think long and hard about the five W’s. Someone will have to stand up and answer these sooner than later.
Now on a different note:
During all those lonely hours in the bicycle saddle one eventually starts to notice a lot of things normally missed by people rushing past in their motorised vehicles. Not that there is anything wrong with the last mentioned method of perambulation! In fact, we all love our car or truck or bakkie or buggy or whatever blows your hair back. If you have enough hair to be blown back, that is.
Anyway, getting back to whatever point I’m trying to make, mechanical powered means of transport and human powered means of transport are not really compatible on the road and more often than not, the human powered one turns out to be the bottom feeder in the traffic food-chain.
This was vividly emphasised recently when another cyclist was killed by a speeding motorist in Durban. This sparked a massive outcry and eventual mass protest ride (or memorial ride as it was labelled) where, according to reports, more than two thousand cyclists took part. The reason was to get the message to the top of the food-chain that us pedal-powered travellers need more safety, consideration and respect from fellow road users as well as from the authorities.
Fat chance!
They do not care! They do not believe that we need to even exist. All they are concerned about is the next ridiculous salary cheque, the best way to scrape the last morsels from the travel allowance, the most mileage from the expense accounts, the most opportune moment to fall asleep during Parliamentary sessions without being caught on camera on channel 58.
They do not care about cyclist being killed by mad motorists at five in the morning, they do not care about a family-man getting gunned down on a busy main road during bright daylight, they do not care about the old farmer having the soles of his feet removed with a pocket knife after being held in boiling water in order to exhume information from him, they do not care if a little five year old girl is raped because some barbaric tribesman unearthed the wisdom that the despicable act will cleanse the perpetrator from the African Flu (which our dear minister of health fortunately believes can be cured by just eating Beetroot!). They do not care. Yes, I know I’m on thin ice. Yes, I know I’m being negative. Yes I know I’m ranting and raving.
Somebody has to do it.
Oh, yes, coming back to what we witness while out riding our bikes; a lot, I can give you my word. We see things and activities that would have gone unnoticed if in a car. I also believe that we sometimes see things we are not supposed to see or maybe people do not realise that we are out there and that we can actually see! Ranging from minor traffic offences to serious drunken driving by some serious members of society to people sneaking home from late night activities not normally smiled upon by society, people leaving houses (before first light ) where they are not personally responsible for the bond, and the list gets longer almost every time.
Maybe one day soon we can do a newsletter where I will be the roving (or be it cycling) observer, reporting ‘from the bike’ and revealing some lekker local corny news for all to share?!
Names and places will be changed to protect the writer.
That is all from the podium for this month. I do not apologise for my black mood. I do apologise for forcing it onto you. We should however not ignore the real state of affairs. The truth might dawn too late for tears.
Take care out there, be alert, be wise, and above all; be healthy.
The front page of the Fever newspaper dated 25 August 2006 ran a full page article headed: “Another cold-blooded killing”. It told the horrible story of the senseless shooting and subsequent killing of our very popular Beeld newspaper Distribution Agent, Schalk Visser. He was statistic number X on the now fast becoming notorious, N2 toll road, earlier this week.
I do not need to and definitely do not want to repeat any details here, but I can vouch that Schalk, as an agent, as a patient of ours, and as a human being, will be seriously missed. Not only did he deliver my newspaper personally every morning; come sickness or inclement weather, he also had a little special greeting or short piece of wisdom to share ever so often. Schalk, God bless, and to Kotie, may His peace and love guide and embrace you and your family in these troubled times.
Which brings me to exactly the point in question; these troubled times. What is being done to ease the pain of our nation and country going to the dogs and rushing back towards the Middle Ages? I thought the new generation all firmly believed in the exponential expansion of the universe which dictates that after the initial “Big Bang” explosion everything is supposed to be moving away from the initial point of density, (including – and especially; Time), but no, in our beloved country (pun intended) we seem to be heading forward towards the past.
Not only are we reminded relentlessly of our immediate past and the supposed atrocities of said era, we are also accelerating at more than a dizzy rate back to the barbaric middle ages and even before that.
The Five W’s:
Who is going to stop this landslide into the abyss?
What is needed to bring back the future?
When is the pendulum going to reach the apex?
Why are we expected to absorb all this mayhem?
Where is the point of no return?
Dear reader, normally my newsletters are marked by, (and from what I’ve been told,) quite popular, because of some degree of humour expressed, but this month I cannot comprehend the funny side of anything. I am sorry, in these times of sorrow, of violence, of fear, of hate, a little one-page newsletter by some weird guy trying to be funny might not seem significant to most, but I normally treasure the opportunity to make just a few people smile while reading my strange mind, printed in a letter. This time, however, I doubt. I am too upset to entice even a smirk!
Last point on this issue: Think long and hard about the five W’s. Someone will have to stand up and answer these sooner than later.
Now on a different note:
During all those lonely hours in the bicycle saddle one eventually starts to notice a lot of things normally missed by people rushing past in their motorised vehicles. Not that there is anything wrong with the last mentioned method of perambulation! In fact, we all love our car or truck or bakkie or buggy or whatever blows your hair back. If you have enough hair to be blown back, that is.
Anyway, getting back to whatever point I’m trying to make, mechanical powered means of transport and human powered means of transport are not really compatible on the road and more often than not, the human powered one turns out to be the bottom feeder in the traffic food-chain.
This was vividly emphasised recently when another cyclist was killed by a speeding motorist in Durban. This sparked a massive outcry and eventual mass protest ride (or memorial ride as it was labelled) where, according to reports, more than two thousand cyclists took part. The reason was to get the message to the top of the food-chain that us pedal-powered travellers need more safety, consideration and respect from fellow road users as well as from the authorities.
Fat chance!
They do not care! They do not believe that we need to even exist. All they are concerned about is the next ridiculous salary cheque, the best way to scrape the last morsels from the travel allowance, the most mileage from the expense accounts, the most opportune moment to fall asleep during Parliamentary sessions without being caught on camera on channel 58.
They do not care about cyclist being killed by mad motorists at five in the morning, they do not care about a family-man getting gunned down on a busy main road during bright daylight, they do not care about the old farmer having the soles of his feet removed with a pocket knife after being held in boiling water in order to exhume information from him, they do not care if a little five year old girl is raped because some barbaric tribesman unearthed the wisdom that the despicable act will cleanse the perpetrator from the African Flu (which our dear minister of health fortunately believes can be cured by just eating Beetroot!). They do not care. Yes, I know I’m on thin ice. Yes, I know I’m being negative. Yes I know I’m ranting and raving.
Somebody has to do it.
Oh, yes, coming back to what we witness while out riding our bikes; a lot, I can give you my word. We see things and activities that would have gone unnoticed if in a car. I also believe that we sometimes see things we are not supposed to see or maybe people do not realise that we are out there and that we can actually see! Ranging from minor traffic offences to serious drunken driving by some serious members of society to people sneaking home from late night activities not normally smiled upon by society, people leaving houses (before first light ) where they are not personally responsible for the bond, and the list gets longer almost every time.
Maybe one day soon we can do a newsletter where I will be the roving (or be it cycling) observer, reporting ‘from the bike’ and revealing some lekker local corny news for all to share?!
Names and places will be changed to protect the writer.
That is all from the podium for this month. I do not apologise for my black mood. I do apologise for forcing it onto you. We should however not ignore the real state of affairs. The truth might dawn too late for tears.
Take care out there, be alert, be wise, and above all; be healthy.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Newsletter July 2006
Twelve little newsletters since the rebirth in August last year: That is where we are now. Time is no-one’s fool indeed. For the newcomers, we started with edition 1 on the 24th of November 1997, one month after the day we took over the pharmacy.
For 5 years, without missing a single one, we produced sixty editions of the letter, doing the last one on October 27th, 2002; exactly 5 years to the day from the time we took over. It also was my wife Renette’s birthday (it pays to advertise as it is almost time for it again). On that day, a Sunday, I typed the last newsletter. Until August last year, that is. Thirty four lazy months! But we’re back.
So last month saw the story of little Flenters the dog. My heartfelt thanks go to everybody who phoned, or came in to enquire, or just passed a nice comment on his wellbeing. Quite a popular doggie!
Also, the tongue-in-cheek “genuine” sympathetic observations about the broken toe have been noted. Thanks. Really, thanks.
It has healed now, so let us please leave the history behind.
This coming weekend sees us off to the Imfolozi game reserve up North to do a mountain bike ride through Big 5 country in aid of conservation.
You do not have to be quicker than the lion; you just have to be quicker than a fellow cyclist. Easy. No broken tows or anything to fuel some patient’s sense of humour. We sincerely hope so.
Almost one third into this letter and I haven’t said much; just filling up the space, just killing time.
Time. That’s it. We will talk about time. Now, after the end of another spectacular Tour de France, I suddenly have so much time to myself. But what is time, and why does it not give more of itself, or wait for us, or stop occasionally?
Nobody knows why and nobody knows what time really is.
The American Heritage Dictionary defines time as "a nonspatial linear continuum in which events occur in an apparently irreversible succession."
The Oxford English Dictionary defines time as "the indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future, regarded as a whole."
What?
And I thought it was only the stuff that I never have enough of? The stuff that drags me back home after a long cycle session, the stuff that makes an evening with friends fly into history, the stuff that makes fun disappear and pain lasts for a seeming eternity.
How much time do we have? Time; for anything, not just for life itself? Do we know and do we appreciate the time lent to us for a given aspect of your life or a moment in your life?
We all know how relative time can be; ten minutes left in the game when your team needs to score 1 more point to win goes a lot quicker than ten minutes left of the sermon when your eyelids feel like two trapdoors.
We are brought up to wish time away. From childhood, in fact, especially during our earlier (for some, much earlier) days, we are forever looking forward to something, always wishing for the holidays to begin, hoping that the time will come to go to high school, later on it is a matter of cannot wait for little Johnny to start walking and talking. Of course, after some time we realize that we have a child with wings and the voice of an angel and that he never stops asking questions and never slows down to even a mild blur, then we tell him to sit still and shut up. (Or we wish the time away for him to go to school to give us a little bit of peace and quiet?)
Point is; how much time are we allowed in our lives? And why do we never stop and make time work for us, instead of being a slave of something like time; who eventually leaves you, literally, dead in its tracks?
“How”, you ask me? “Now”, is my answer.
Do it now. Stop your clock! You can’t stop the Greenwich Time, but you sure can stop your ‘own time’. You cannot make time or take away time, remember it is a linear continuum and it stops for no-one. The trick (and I’m absolutely NO expert), is to go with the time-scale and not try to jump ahead of the clock by rushing headlong into everything.
We rush and fuss, we torment and cry, we toil and boil, all in vain trying to beat the linear nature of time.
King Solomon (970-928 BC) wrote: "There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven” … and we all know the rest of the famous verse. So much wisdom, just think about it; in today’s life where there is never enough time for everything, could this verse still be true?
I say “yes”. All we have to do is to make a list like Solomon did in the Bible. If you find that there are way too many things for the time allowed, you have a choice. Make time or cut the list in half. Yeah, by now it is evidently clear that only one of the two is possible. So?
I’m cutting my list. My new list will fit into the time allowed;
I will stop trying to stretch time to fit the list.
Wow, what time is it? OK. Just kidding.
Time for Staff news.
And now, it is time to go. Remember, cut the list. Also remember to get a Polio vaccination if travelling to Namibië or Botswana.
Greetings from the chronometer,
Pieter & Renette Naudé. (Count how many times the word Time appears in any article. Time is no-one’s fool, indeed.
For 5 years, without missing a single one, we produced sixty editions of the letter, doing the last one on October 27th, 2002; exactly 5 years to the day from the time we took over. It also was my wife Renette’s birthday (it pays to advertise as it is almost time for it again). On that day, a Sunday, I typed the last newsletter. Until August last year, that is. Thirty four lazy months! But we’re back.
So last month saw the story of little Flenters the dog. My heartfelt thanks go to everybody who phoned, or came in to enquire, or just passed a nice comment on his wellbeing. Quite a popular doggie!
Also, the tongue-in-cheek “genuine” sympathetic observations about the broken toe have been noted. Thanks. Really, thanks.
It has healed now, so let us please leave the history behind.
This coming weekend sees us off to the Imfolozi game reserve up North to do a mountain bike ride through Big 5 country in aid of conservation.
You do not have to be quicker than the lion; you just have to be quicker than a fellow cyclist. Easy. No broken tows or anything to fuel some patient’s sense of humour. We sincerely hope so.
Almost one third into this letter and I haven’t said much; just filling up the space, just killing time.
Time. That’s it. We will talk about time. Now, after the end of another spectacular Tour de France, I suddenly have so much time to myself. But what is time, and why does it not give more of itself, or wait for us, or stop occasionally?
Nobody knows why and nobody knows what time really is.
The American Heritage Dictionary defines time as "a nonspatial linear continuum in which events occur in an apparently irreversible succession."
The Oxford English Dictionary defines time as "the indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future, regarded as a whole."
What?
And I thought it was only the stuff that I never have enough of? The stuff that drags me back home after a long cycle session, the stuff that makes an evening with friends fly into history, the stuff that makes fun disappear and pain lasts for a seeming eternity.
How much time do we have? Time; for anything, not just for life itself? Do we know and do we appreciate the time lent to us for a given aspect of your life or a moment in your life?
We all know how relative time can be; ten minutes left in the game when your team needs to score 1 more point to win goes a lot quicker than ten minutes left of the sermon when your eyelids feel like two trapdoors.
We are brought up to wish time away. From childhood, in fact, especially during our earlier (for some, much earlier) days, we are forever looking forward to something, always wishing for the holidays to begin, hoping that the time will come to go to high school, later on it is a matter of cannot wait for little Johnny to start walking and talking. Of course, after some time we realize that we have a child with wings and the voice of an angel and that he never stops asking questions and never slows down to even a mild blur, then we tell him to sit still and shut up. (Or we wish the time away for him to go to school to give us a little bit of peace and quiet?)
Point is; how much time are we allowed in our lives? And why do we never stop and make time work for us, instead of being a slave of something like time; who eventually leaves you, literally, dead in its tracks?
“How”, you ask me? “Now”, is my answer.
Do it now. Stop your clock! You can’t stop the Greenwich Time, but you sure can stop your ‘own time’. You cannot make time or take away time, remember it is a linear continuum and it stops for no-one. The trick (and I’m absolutely NO expert), is to go with the time-scale and not try to jump ahead of the clock by rushing headlong into everything.
We rush and fuss, we torment and cry, we toil and boil, all in vain trying to beat the linear nature of time.
King Solomon (970-928 BC) wrote: "There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven” … and we all know the rest of the famous verse. So much wisdom, just think about it; in today’s life where there is never enough time for everything, could this verse still be true?
I say “yes”. All we have to do is to make a list like Solomon did in the Bible. If you find that there are way too many things for the time allowed, you have a choice. Make time or cut the list in half. Yeah, by now it is evidently clear that only one of the two is possible. So?
I’m cutting my list. My new list will fit into the time allowed;
I will stop trying to stretch time to fit the list.
Wow, what time is it? OK. Just kidding.
Time for Staff news.
And now, it is time to go. Remember, cut the list. Also remember to get a Polio vaccination if travelling to Namibië or Botswana.
Greetings from the chronometer,
Pieter & Renette Naudé. (Count how many times the word Time appears in any article. Time is no-one’s fool, indeed.
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