Wenchy is known from her blog established in September 1997, “The Nocturnal Wenchy” and social media presence.
Wenchy left Corporate in 2012, and established herself as a Digital Collaborator. .
In 2019, Wenchy launched a merchandise, “African Hips Don’t Lie”. @africanhipsdontlie loves slogan T-shirts.
Wenchy is a fierce Mental Health advocate. She is a lover of frivolous laughter and intelligent conversation, with little time for small talk.
Wenchy is an active supporter and friend to the LGBTQ+ community and campaigns to give all people a voice.
Since 2019 Wenchy became the Brand Ambassador for @hayleyjoyshop. An exclusive size inclusive boutique. Meeting @hayleys_joy has been a life changing experience. #aShapeNotaSize
Wenchy has also aligned herself with the @lizacliffordbrafittingstudio because of the essential service they provide, as well as their exceptional products. #putoncourage
Wenchy is proudly South African with a deep sense of the heartbeat of the soil below, and the African skies above.
Wenchy is married to @SirNoid and Mom to the #theoriginalcast and #MamaWench to many.
Facebook/Twitter /Iηstagram : @NocturnalWenchy
email@example.com / 0834117613
What to do when your husband runs off and leaves you single—when being single is not your thing?
Lizzie has decided that single life does not suit her.
What a treat “Limp Dicks and Saggy Tits” is by Tracie Podger. It is easy listening. The narration read as I would speak, and I enjoyed it immensely. Fun, flirty with the odd fxck thrown in, it is probably not for the faint hearted but if you want to smile and just enjoy a book that doesn’t pretend to be what it is not, this is the one for you!
Met ons herdenking vyftien jaar terug) ons TIENDE herdenking was dit n beplande joligheid. Nou terug na ons berghotel waar ons heuningmaan was (overdraft gereel en so). Alles werk toe nie saam nie : daai dunne trourok willie eers oor my enkels nie! Maar wat, ons kry n pakkie confetti en Drakensberg hier kom ons.
Kry ons n honeymoon huisie by die hotel. Onthou, dis net 2 van ons :op onse troudag hol ons in pajamas rond met die confetti. Dan Sweetheart en ek strooi hom dan hol en ek (ballooon innie hand en een om my nek) en hy strooi my. Ons lag soveel dat ons die helfte van die confetti insluk toe n vreemde stem met n hogere aksent vra: ‘what are you doing?
So innie pajamas, balloon om my kop, verduidelik ons vannie confetti en so. Die hogere stem persoon se aandag is glo getrek deur al die beweging.
Laat middag ontvang ons n ‘amptelike’ uitnodiging tot ‘tea’. Daar gekom het die hotel vir ons n troukoek gebak en al wat n gas is sing ‘for they are jolly good fellows.’ Mens!
Vir aandete gaan ons GROOT. Vreeslik romanties. Sweetheart in aandpak. Gefril de lot. Helaas, geen broek. In my swart sweetpakbroek (daai wat die rek onder het) durf hy die deftigheid aan.
Ons kry n privaat eetsaaltjie. Vol kerse en rooi rose. En ons dans by ons self dat dit n naarheid is en gil van jollygeid omdat Sweetheart se broek teen daai tyd ONDER sy kniee sit!!!!
Vyftien jaar later, weer n keer, baie baie dankie OAKLANDS COUNTRY MANOR!
I have attached my resume for your review and and I look forward to seeing you all again soon and I hope to hear from you soon and hope to hear from you soon and thanks for your time in helping me out with the interview process and I look forward to seeing you all again soon and I hope you have a great day with your family and your family your family is well and your family is well and your family is well and your family is well and your family is well and your family is well and your family is well and your family is well and your family is well and your fis well and your family is well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I I hope you hope you are having a good time with your family your family is going well and I hope you are well and and I hope I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are and your family well and that you well and you are you are a great broa and I am not Vegan to make you feel bad for you to be honest with me a lot of people and I am so glad you are able to get DRESSED and ready for the wedding ther I treasure you so much for your birthday wishes and and and thanks for the birthday wishes wishes everyone a a a a a a are doing well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope you are and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope I hope you have a great day with your family and your family and your family your family is well and your family is well and and I hope you are well you are well and I hope you are well and and I hope you are well and I hope you are well and I hope amily is well and your family is well and your family is well and your family is well and your family is well and your family is well and your family all again soon soon and I hope I hope you have a great day with your family and your family and and have a great day with your family and your family and your family and your family and your family and your family The recipe is from my 20 year old green recipe box. It was the box of magic goodiesfor the
200 grams of Almond Flour
150 grams of mixed Seeds (I used a blender and turned it to flour consistency – purely personal preference.)
25 ml Fibre Husk
10 ml Baking Powder
7.5 ml Salt
100 grams Full Cream Greek Yoghurt
250 grams Smooth Cottage Cheese
50 grams of melted Butter
I am not much of a baker at all. I mixed all together with a wooden spoon, used spray and cook for 1 hour at 180 degrees and it turned out fabulously!
I honestly did not know I would survive 21 years without you. It speaks volumes for the human spirit, for I did not think I would see morning that night. It took seven years to say your name without crying.
Today a lifetime of smiles around my eyes play, when I explain about the man who gave me the name “Wenchy” before the tears come.
The free falling long blonde hair as you came into the room wearing black jeans, a white T-shirt and the smile that captured me forever when you saw me.
I hate that I know grief so intimately. I miss you intensely. Love you.
When I started reading “Her Daughter’s Cry” by M.M. Chouinard I was not aware it was the third book in the Detective Jo Fournier series. It carried itself well as a stand-alone book and I did not feel lost at any stage. Although the book is a police procedural, it reads like a thriller.
A woman appears in a shop, injured and covered in blood… but the blood does not belong to her. She suffers from amnesia and detective Jo Fournier must figure out how she got injured and who the blood belongs to. The police establish it belongs to a blood relative; a daughter and so the hunt to find the daughter begins. Since the woman has amnesia, I personally thought they were in search of a baby or a young child, but I guessed that one wrong.
Who is this woman and is she innocent or does she have something to do with her daughter getting injured?
Zoe (a name given to her in hospital) is trying to piece her life back together and remember what happened, and the Police are assembling evidence. Who will get to the tipping point first?
Fast-paced, interesting plot, great character development and well worth reading.
The only bit that remains a mystery to me is the title of the book.
‘Word oud met grasie.’ Wat vir ‘n klomp twak is dit? Daar is niks jollie omtrent oud word nie.
Vat my nou byvoorbeeld. Was nooit n skoonheid nie maar… Daar n swart WALLE onder my oë. Kepe langs die mondhoeke. Eienaardige ken.. Dun lippies gekry (Rensch se TEKEN groter lippe!) En die kalkoennek!!!! Middel (watter middel?) ‘n omvang wat ek nie wil weet nie. My bene .. my gekreukelde voete! Nee mens!
My dierbaarste Pappie het gesê ‘Ouderdom is niks. Maar die lelik word!’ En toe trek hy al by 85!
Nou moenie die pyne en skete vergeet nie. Ek het altyd gedink oumense kan darem kla!
En nou, ‘back at the ranch’ staan ek my plek vol in die klae afdeling! Nie vir sissies nie!
My father was not the most reliable man. Much like our Liam James who may go out to buy milk and see you in a week because the opportunity to go to the coast (ten hours away) came up between home and the buying of said milk. It sounded like a plan and off he went only to return in a few days, fresh as a daisy. I would have had Liam chipped if that was legal. My Mammie says my father was a Liam. No ocean too deep, no mountain too high.
A car accident took the life of a 30-year-old, white male at 19h00 on 14 December 1984 – my father.
My eleven-year-old self did not believe my father actually died. An assortment of visitors began arriving. Non-stop people. He was clearly loved. So many tears. In my mind, my father may disappear for a while, but he always comes back! It never felt him not being there was something to forgive. My dear Mammie never hinted at anything negative about his behaviour or him as a man and neither did my Oupa Mike and Ouma Chrissie who raised me. If the love of Christ was people, they were my Grandparents. Nothing was too much to forgive.
Leading up to the funeral on 19 December 1984, a lot happened. It was very confusing. My Mammie was broken in a million little pieces. I had rarely seen her without model makeup so when I was faced with her white, ghost-like, gaunt appearance, it made a huge impression on me.
At some point, we had to go and buy clothes for my sister and me for the funeral. It was not a time to push your likes and dislikes. I guess my Mammie chose my dress. It was white with small purple flowers around the front. I had not developed my love for purple as yet but it seems fitting. Apparently purple was a suitable funeral colour. I know it had a bow around the waist. It was a fine dress, however, it was my reasoning that it was a funeral dress. The dress I would wear to my fathers funeral. Never to be worn again.
There is great detail in my mind regarding the day they buried my father. I don’t want to go into that today, except to say that I was stung by a bee…. and I hated all the fake flower arrangements in those domes. I’m sure the people gave them in love, I remember thinking my father can already not breathe and now you cover him with flowers that can’t breathe either. It was like toilet covers in the Afrikaans community I grew up in. Uncomfortable and bloody unnecessary.
Fresh from the platteland, a few months later I was now living in the City with my Mammie and my sister. There was an occasion for which I needed a dress. I remember my dear Mammie telling me to just wear the white one. For most of my life, I had only seen my Mammie on weekends so I was quite weary. That lady takes no prisoners. Except, there was no way I would wear that funeral dress again. I don’t remember what happened but I never saw the white dress with the purple detail around the front again.
Today, I adore my Mammie. Having been a single Mom, I too, take no prisoners. You did good Mammie. So good. I love you so very much. My gratitude and respect are unending.
I’m 46 years old now. I am still waiting for my father to come back. He remains dead.