I have been wanting to give this blog an extreme makeover for some time now, but every time I tried, the scary back-end of WordPress kicked my butt. Finally, I decided to get help from an expert who does not consider herself an expert but who knows WAAAAAY more than I do. Thanks to a crash course over lunch last week from the gorgeous Blair, I (we) managed to overhaul the look and feel of On Sabbatical in Sandton. I would’ve announced this last week, but Blair and I were baffled by some font issue which my genius friend Richard (one of those clever people who can read and write code) managed to fix. Thanks, Rich! When you want a pretty blog, it’s clearly not what you know, but who you know…
The part of the new look I’m most excited about is the part at the top right hand side of the home page, where you can enter your e-mail address to receive new blog posts via e-mail. Personally, I only manage to follow blogs if I get them direct to my Inbox, so I was dying to add this feature in case any of my readers are exactly like me in that sense.
But now, on to even more exciting things. Like shoes. Check out these super sexy red puppies I picked up at an open day in Bryanston last week:
The picture barely does them justice. They have a tiny little peep toe in the front, where admirers of the shoes can just, at a certain angle, catch a glimpse of the wearer’s latest pedicure. I’ve yet to test them out on a shopping run, but am hoping that because they’re wedges, they’ll hold up more than the 4 minutes I can last in stilettos. Will report back…
On the dieting front, I’ve pretty much stuck to the Food Fascist’s eating plan for six out of the last seven days, so we’ll see what the Weight Watcher’s scale says on Tuesday. This, however, is what The Princess thinks of the regime:
Speaking of The Princess, we’ve just started looking around at playschools for her for next year. I can’t frigging believe it but the playschool down the road is FULL and I’m enquiring seven months in advance. I know for primary schools, you need to put your kids name down when the little spermatozoids start swimming, but frick, this is frigging playschool, for goodness sake and it sounds like we should have put down an unconfirmed name for her there while I was pregnant. So now I have to start looking further afield… I went to see one playschool a few kilometres away last week and I confess that I actually burst into tears at the sight of two little, holding hands with their little, uber miniature Barbie backpacks on their backs, walking hesitantly into the school gate as their mommy dropped them off. I just can’t believe that might be my baby next year!
Anyhoo, I need to sign off now. I ate all my food allowance in sushi at 5pm this eve (The Husband tried to steal one of my california rolls that I’d painstakingly counted out – he nearly got a chopstick in his eyeball for that) and I’m now basically starving, so I need to get to bed before The Husband’s 400g Toblerone attacks me and shoves its creamy self down my throat.
PS: If you love my red Melissa Shoes, check out their Facebook page (Melissa Shoes South Africa) or click here to find out how to get yourself a pair.