The Art of Lurking

Park, watch and listen. The creatures will come, almost anywhere. That’s my theory (I have many). Take coffee.

See this pic of one of my stakeouts? There are lots and lots of creatures watching me and listening intently, methinks. So I counter-lurk, waiting for them to make a move or a chirp. I do this regularly. The theory hypothesises thus: As you drive or walk in nature, all the creatures think, Hark! A dangerous predator approacheth. The most dangerous one, in fact. So they keep tjoepstil, duck behind a leaf or a branch, a bush or below the grass, depending on where they find themselves and how big or small they are. And freeze. You then hove into view making a helluva racket – and that’s when you’re tip-toeing and not talking. Once you’re safely past they give a giggle (interpreted by ethologists as an ‘all-clear’ signal which correctly interpreted says “intruder’s gone”) and carry on with their daily business. This explains why you can go on a long ‘birding walk’ and see buggerall; then in camp over a cold beer you can be mobbed by flocks.

Phabeni Gate and upper Sabie River area

As Jess was studying for her nature guide course online exam, holed up in our room at Sleepover, where we found good wifi signal, I went for morning drives, entering the Kruger through Phabeni Gate nearby. In the park, Jess prefers to keep moving – ‘it’s called a Game *Drive* for a reason, Dad’ – so this is my chance to practice my gentle lurking skills. By doing one of my patented lurks: Sort of Game ‘Parking.’ Saving diesel.

Forgot my coffee the first morning, so bought a cuppa from this mobile caffeine pusher at the gate. Thutty five South African Ront, followed by his salesman patter, ‘It’s usually forty Ront, but you are my first customer this fine morning.’ It was indeed a fine morning, so he got R35 plus a R5 tip.

Soon a Dark Chanting Goshawk started chanting on the uppermost twigs;

a Slender Mongoose stared at me briefly after crossing the road to the left; a Grey Duiker and tiny fawn dashed across the road to the right – I wondered if something was chasing them; nothing appeared; Redheaded Weavers were nesting in the untidy grassy nests, a Sabota Lark started singing.

Goshawk, Weaver & Lark

Brubru, Black Flycatcher, Rattling Cisticola, Southern Black Tit, Fork-tailed Drongo, Cape Turtle Dove, Blue Waxbill, Golden-breasted Bunting, Crested Barbet, Grey Hornbill, Bulbul, Gorgeous Bush-shrike, Emerald-spotted Wood Dove; Here’s a Black-crowned Tchagra, thanks to xeno-canto.org

At my next stakeout, within earshot of the Sabie river, a big Boer Bean Schotia, an Apple-leaf in flower, and a Marula were the trees I could identify. Green Pigeon, Red-eyed Dove, White-bellied Sunbird, Violet-backed Starling feasting on berries, Burchell’s Starling, Greater Blue-eared glossy Starling, Fish Eagle, Black-bellied Starling, Marico Sunbird. And a juvenile Martial Eagle being escorted off the premises by a Drongo.

~~oo0oo~~

Once Jess tagged along and we drove the right bank of the Sabie. We* saw more animals, tis true, including these, plus impala and nyala.

*We – Jess slept for more than half the drive!

~~oOo~~

audio from xeno-canto.org – thank you – a wonderful site

tjoepstil – dead quiet

There, Dad!

Jess is an amazing spotter. She has spotted two snakes in trees, one snake I had missed on the ground and once in Shingwedzi campsite she said, Dad, a snake just fell out of that tree! If it had been anyone else I’d have laughed and said, ‘Pull The Other One,’ but being Jess, I knew a snake had just dropped out of a tree.

Now she said, Dad, there’s a warthog in that tree! and of course there was, and now she was trying to get me to spot the leopard that had put it up there.

There, Dad! His ear flicked! I stared and stared through my Zeiss binocs. I double- and triple-checked I was looking in the right place. We carefully tracked the rock, the branch and the twig where she was looking, but each ear twitch and each I can see his spots through a gap in the branches had me thinking, the wind has stirred a leaf, or she’s seeing dappled sunlight.

After thirty minutes of focused peering and Jessie’s exasperation at Dof Dad: ‘Omigoodness Jess, a leopard just sat up! Right there where you said!’

Told you; said matter-of-factly.

~~oo0oo~~

Couple in the Next Room

Bound to Win a Prize
They've been Going at it 
All Night Long.. 
Well I'm Trying to get Some Sleep
But these Motel Walls are Cheap . . .

Actually it was container floors creaking more than the walls leaking sound.

https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=0e-Quw2QGo8

Kruger Daze

Hot days, windy days, rainy days, cooler and even some cold weather. At first we could only snare four nights in the Kruger Park. Letaba, Skukuza, Satara and Pretoriuskop camps. One night each as we were asking for ‘any available space for tonight? ‘ Later we left the park to spend six nights just outside Phabeni gate for strong wifi and aircon for Jess as she wrote online exams; Then back into the park for two nights in Lower Sabie camp and our last night at Crocodile Bridge camp. That was the first time we’d stayed in those lovely camps. Now the only camps we haven’t yet stayed in are Malelane, Orpen and Pafuri Border Camp. We’ll get to them one day.

Lots of eles, huge herds of buffalo, plenty antelope and the most predators I’ve seen over such a short time. Three lion sightings, a dozen hyena sightings including three dens with pups, two leopard sightings, four Slender Mongoose, two Dwarf Mongoose. One hyena was going Hnngnng! then looked at us and said, Do You MInd?!

Jess said, ‘There’s a warthog in that tree Dad.’ Um, Jess, warthogs have cloven hooves and can’t . . Where?

warthog in tree 2
warthog in tree 1

So we searched for a leopard. ‘I see him, he’s flicking his ear,’ said Jess. Thirty minutes later I finally saw him when he sat up!

At last I also see it!

At Skukuza a last-minute cancellation got us a chalet instead of camping, to Jessie’s delight. AND it was a brand-new bungalow, which Terry Brauer had told us about just a day or so before!

Two days later, 100km south of the first leopard: ‘There! Walking to the right!’ Jess again:

In the shop at PretoriusKop a lovely friendly lady takes my payment and says, “I recognise you guys, you were here two years ago.” Wow! Or did the till show we’d last purchased there two years ago? Anyway, friendly!

~~oo0oo~~

Teachers Rock

‘Pee two-by-two,’ said their teacher, standing at the door, not wanting to enter the gents. They heard, but were too busy staring at the ancient pale fella who had pushed ahead of them with apologies to them and their teacher. I was BUSTING, two coffees over budget.

Hordes of preschoolers in green t-shirts on a Kruger Park outing, each one cuter than the next. The girls were queueing next door. Three could finish pee-ing, staring at me from knee-height while I stood sighing with relief. One engaged me in earnest conversation while we both aimed at the porcelain. I caught ‘granpa’ mkhulu and ‘elephant’ ndlovu, so I just nodded and agreed. I’m sure it was complimentary.

You’re a star, well done!  I said to teacher as I left. She grinned and told the next four to go in, trying in vain to get them to pee duets, but they carried on going one at a time. Obviously soloists.

As I left another teacher was taking their pics one by one in front of the huge bronze bust of Oom President Paul Kruger!

Teachers are under-rated.

~~oo0oo~~

The image is kids from Skukuza primary school on a litter cleanup day – thanks, Citizen newspaper

Mfolosi Day Trip

This time we must remember to take photos, Dad! Especially one of us in a recognisable place – a nice backdrop. Right, Jess.

Lots of eles, including one herd heading north in a long straggling line through the bush, crossing in front of us twice, thanks to a dogleg in the road. I counted fifty, but Jess, who hadn’t counted, said, No Dad, there were about fifteen! So I said OK there were forty. Luckily I took a video of one of the batches moving past – added below.

We give eles lots of room, as Jess is very cautious of them. Even at a good hundred metres a few of the young males gave us the Hey! Watch Yourself! ear shake.

Lots and LOTS of warthogs, all happily covered in mud. One sounder had longer crests/manes than usual – and light, like blonde – looked like Rod Stewart as a quintuplet. Seven square-lipped rhino; One mama with a small calf crossed right in front of us – no photo!

Surprisingly, a number of birds considering the stiff breeze that blew all day. We considered taking lunch in the car, but Sontuli picnic site is sheltered, so we used the last available table. Good to see a number of people having lunch there, parking an assortment of very capable and well-modified 4X4 vehicles with raised suspension and knobbly tyres next to the Fiat Unos that keep them humble.

Another photo missed by staring-in-awesome-wonder was a gathering of vultures on a wide sandy beach on a bend in the Black Mfolosi River, sunning and sand-bathing. Joined by Woolly-necked Storks, Pied Crows, Blacksmith Lapwing and Yellow-billed Kites.

– same stretch of river, different visit –

Also saw buffalo, wildebeest, zebra, giraffe banging heads, baboon, impala, nyala and kudu (only one); Went on a detour in search of cheetah, sent by an excited lady on her own in a bakkie who said we couldn’t miss them. The spot she thought the group of four cats would obligingly wait for us was about twenty minutes away. But Jess wanted to go so of course we did. The friendly lady hadn’t nailed them down so they’d felt free to wander off. Still, nice drive on a road we don’t usually use as it’s an entrance route from the western Gengeni gate which we have only exited twice to explore the interesting Ulundi to Melmoth road.

More birds seen and heard: Tawny-flanked Prinia, Green-winged Pytilia, Fork-tailed Drongo, Fiscal Shrike ‘hangman,’ Black, Ashy & Dusky Flycatchers; Rattling Cisticola, Rufous-naped Lark, Brubru, Chinspot Batis, Klaas’ Cuckoo, Indian Myna at the Nyalazi gate, Greater Honeyguide, Scimitarbill, Black-crowned Tchagra, Brown-hooded Kingfisher, Blue & lipstick Waxbills, Village Weaver; Emerald-spotted Wood, Cape Turtle & Red-eyed Doves; Crested Francolin, Bateleur, Cattle Egret, Gorgeous & Orange-breasted Bushshrike; Dark-capped Bulbul, Yellow-bellied Greenbul, Yellow-fronted Canary, Mocking Cliff Chat, Burchell’s Coucal, Speckled Mousebird, Egyptian Goose, African Hoopoe, Hadeda Ibis, Pied Wagtail, Redbilled Oxpecker, Petronia, Cape glossy Starling, White=throated Swallow;

Note to self: Rather get Jess to take the selfies and ussies! And remember the backdrop/background!

– Mfolosi Ele Procession –

Sonic Boom

Two millimetres above the apex of the tiled roof of my wooden hut a monster BANG! made me jump in my office chair where I was sitting, shortening my life according to longevity influencers. Buh-Liksem! That was LOUD!

It was the second-loudest thunderclap I’ve ever heard, I think. The loudest was in the Drakensberg near The Cavern many moons ago.

Some rain fell, the clouds parted, the sun shone and the birds started back up, saying, like me, What The Hell Was That? Hadedas, Trumpeter Hornbills, Lesser Honeyguide, Darkbacked Weaver, Scarlet-chested Sunbird, White-eyes and an African Green Pigeon:

Next day: An African Harrier Hawk – gymnogene – calling.

~~oo0oo~~

Another loud and close bang was in Hilltop Camp in Hluhluwe Game Reserve back in 2015.

~~oo0oo~~

Pigeon recording from xeno-canto.org, thanks!

Buh-liksem!  – Day-amn! Shee-yit!

The Last Tanza in Zini

There goes my last Tanza cup. Damn! They’re my best – thin ceramic, lovely to drink from. Were my best. Its a tragic loss – Jimmy Buffet even wrote a song about it:

Actually, my last delicate cashmere china cup lasted longer than I’d have bet. It went everywhere with me on my travels. Here one of them is at home, enjoying the birds, Sambucca the Lab’s company and my Tom-made Breakfast for Dad, which Sambucca can smell. She’s probly thinking ‘unfair!’

Health brekker laid on, Binocs, Birds, Coffee and a Labrador – whattalife!

Go and have a look at them on entoceramics.com – they’re the ones with nguni cattle artwork. We had bowls and plates with insects and sunbirds too. Time took its toll on them. The last cup travelled with me in my bakkie camper after I’d sold my home and lasted well, but I bumped it with my elbow and when it hit the tiled floor – kaput. Oh well, sold my Westville house March 2022 and bought a cottage in Mtunzini May 2025 and the last cup made the full journey.

Check out Tanza’s entoceramics website for the beautiful artwork

~~oo0oo~~

Dramatic Stoep Kill

I sms’d Jules (she wasn’t wakker genoeg to be on signal.org yet) from my stoep after she had visited me while I was whiling away my last weeks in Westville, waiting for the sale of my home to go through so I could hand over the keys to the new owners, and hit the road in my Ford Ranger. ca.2022. The year. The Ranger is 2008.

Jules! I just saw a kill in my binocs! A flying predator flew low over the water, executed an instant 180°, then a vertical lunge and nabbed its prey, biting its head off. (I imagine that last part, the prey was actually too small to see that kind of detail).

I spose I could have been more succinct: ‘Dragonfly Munches Miggie‘

While he was chewing, another dragonfly challenged him. A brief aerial dogfight ensued, then discretion was judged the better part of valour and they said Wag n Biekie and called a truce. Or maybe the challenge ended once he’d swallowed?

Exciting stuff! I’ve had my exercise for the morning.

I managed to shoot him while he was burping contentedly – his prey show up as even more blurry whitish fuzzballs.

~~oo0oo~~

wakker genoeg – ‘with it’ enough

stoep – porch; veranda; patio; favourite perch

miggie – gnat; midge; flying sitting duck; maybe muggie?

Sun Under The Yardarm

‘Help yourself darling, it’s a free world,’ says the auntie fishing.

I’d asked if my stopping on the causeway would disturb their fishing.

I’m looking for herons and finfoot at a little inlet into the river. As I sit quietly I overhear their talk. ‘I’d even settle for an eel at this stage,’ says one. Ah, nothing’s biting, I gather. Then something I couldn’t catch followed by, ‘Well, there’s an aeroplane that’s flown over somewhere.’

Ah, time for a dop! It is after all, well after 8am. The sun may still be well under the yardarm, but she’s probably right about that aeroplane . .

~~oo0oo~~

Feature pic: High tide in the nearby mangroves

dop – a shot of booze; tipple; a stiff drink

How Hard Can It Be?

Dad, I can’t think what to have for our third supper camping. Don’ wurrie Jess, I’ll do the first night, you just do two suppers. What’ll you do Dad? she asked, maybe regretting opening her mouth. Don’ wurrie Jess, I have a plan.

Her query had reminded me that our cottage came with three stainless steel braais, two built-in, and three braai grids, and two huge bags of charcoal – not your garage forecourt size – and eight plastic-wrapped bags of braaihout.
I packed the grid, a bag of braaihout, fahlahter, safety matches, and two T-bones. I was going to become a brauer. How hard could it be?

At Bonamanzi there’s a built-in brick braaiplek, no grid. I go scouting the sixteen sites, only two occupied, and find a grid, collecting twigs as I go. At dusk I set the well-packed pyramid-shaped pyre alight and stand back watching the blaze with satisfaction, marveling at how easy this is and how okes gaan aan about their secret and foolproof ‘methods,’ etc and blah blah.
When I have glowing hardehout coals – and admittedly still a bit of flame, I’m hungry so I sandwich the Spar-marinaded vacuum-packed very thinly-sliced bargain T-bones into my nifty snap-shut stainless steel braai grid that came wif the cottage, and plop them on top of the camp grid over the red hot coals. With a bit of flame.

I’m attending them noukeurig when the other camper drives in in the dark and I make the mistake of shouting across my coals, How was your drive? Turns out he thinks he should tell me.

He bustles over and tells me. I didn’t catch his name but if it isn’t Earnest it should be. Great detail about how their drive was not good, no elephant. Then where he’s from and what his 4X4 is and which one he actually wanted to buy (Nissan Pathfinder / Nissan Patrol) and how – exactly how – he built his own camper trailer on his parents farm and what he kitted it out with with his own hands and how although the trailer was old, the wheel bearings were still shiny silver when he took them apart. Also the pros and cons of a gazebo.

I’m shuffling and he’s getting into his stride and I’m polite. A fatal combination, which brings Jess with a torch to say, Dad you’ve burnt the meat!

~~oo0oo~~

braai – barbecue

braaihout – barbecue

braaiplek – barbecue

brauer– barbecue deskundige

deskundige – expert, but only in pyromania

noukeurig – barbecue with focus

gaan aan – barbecue talk

~~oo0oo~~

The campsites here are lovely

Nice winter birdlist in three days:

Yellowthroat Petronia, Purple-banded Sunbird, Emerald spotted wood Dove, Red eyed Dove, Egyptian Goose, Spurwing Goose, Great white Egret, Cattle Egret, Grey Heron, Reed Cormorant, Anhinga/Darter, Greater Honeyguide, Stonechat, Rufous-naped Lark, Orange-breasted Bushshrike, Gorgeous Bushshrike, S Boubou, Chinspot Batis, Puffback, Golden-tailed Woodpecker, S Banded Snake Eagle, Fiery-necked Nightjar, Wood Owl, Fish Eagle, Yellow-breasted Apalis, Crested Guineafowl, Spectacled Weaver, Darkbacked Weaver, Green Woodhoopoe, Yellowthroated Longclaw, Eastern Nicator, Camaroptera, Yellow-bellied Greenbul, Bulbul, Fiscal Shrike, Brown-hooded Kingfisher, Striped Kingfisher, Crowned Lapwing, Spotted Thick-knee, Ashy Flycatcher, Dusky Flycatcher, African Goshawk, S Black Tit, Fork-tailed Drongo, S Black Flycatcher, Black-crowned Tchagra, Pied Crow, Lipstick (don’t call me common) Waxbill, Crested Barbet, Yellow-rumped Tinker, Pied Wagtail, Cape Glossy Starling, Red-breasted Swallow, White Helmet-shrike, Burchell’s Coucal, Crested Francolin, Crowned Hornbill, Hadeda, African Jacana, 59

Breakfast Epiphany

Often in my young life a bowl of dry crumbly uphuthu would arrive ready to eat, absolutely delicious with milk and sugar which I’d add all by my own self. Yum. Then the bowl would disappear never to be seen again until it was back sparkling clean on another day, filled with phuthu. Like magic. Made by Selina, mostly, who might also make egg, toast and bacon on a flat plate. I was pleasantly spoilt and didn’t know how things worked. Just that they did.

Recently we bought a 1kg packet of Nyala mealie meal from Mtunzini Spar and I’ve been successfully making iphalishi, slap pap, soft maize meal porridge to rave reviews from Jessie. Today I thought How Hard Can It Be? I’m going to make phuthu. Oh boy.

I make my phalishi in a glass bowl in the microwave but for some reason I think phuthu has to be made in a stainless steel pot with steel handles on a gas hob. Ouch, bliksem those handles get hot. So add the meal to the water that burnt me, add more meal, steam up the spectacles, stir occasionally, whoa! a lump has flown overboard and plopped down between the stove and the cupboard. Now I have to grovel and stretch in the tight space to get it out with my bum in the air cos I told Jess we mustn’t leave any crumbs for ants or cockroaches or mice. We found some mouse poo when we moved in and I was telling her that’s what brings certain snakes – the smell of rodents. Sometimes I should just shurrup.

To stir occasionally I have to hold the lid with a double-folded dishcloth and also the pot handle with the same hand while I’m stirring with the other hand so it doesn’t slide around. What’s that smell and why is Jessie laughing? Oh, the dishcloth got into the flame and is burning quite nicely. Damn.

Check the recipe on the Nyala pack: Stir occasionally, cook for 35 to 45 minutes. 35 to 45 minutes! Are they mad? I don’t do anything for 35mins non-stop. On average I do 35 unproductive things in 35 minutes.

Eventually its done and it tastes quite nice although its stickier, not dry and crumbly as I remember it and like it best. Once we open doors and windows the burning smell fades but the pot looks terrible, black and crusty, sending Jess off into uncontrolled giggling.

After breakfast Barbara phones and puts Mom on the line. She listens amused then says, Put water in the pot and heat it till the black crust loosens up.

OK, but no more phuthu. Forget it. That’s my breakfast ePiphany. Tomorrow Jess will make egg and toast if she can stop laughing like Audrey Hepburn.

~~oo0oo~~

Rave reviews from Jessie: I freely admit she is generous with her praise and in fact is very disapproving of Gordon Ramsay’s foul-mouthed rants describing food as shit and worse. She says even though at times it’s difficult, you can always find something kind to say about Dad’s cooking.

~~oo0oo~~

I Choon You

When I phone at 5:20pm every second night, Mom Mary usually launches into her set routine: “I’m in bed, I’m warm, I’m comfortable, I’ve had my eyedrops, I’m just waiting for my cocktail.” But tonight is different.

She’s not in Azalea, she’s in Arcadia. Her second night in Greytown. “I’m sitting at the dining room table enjoying a delicious soup. The food here is wonderful,” she enthuses. Oh boy, looks like Greytown is going to be a dorp of wild late-night jolling. She may not get to bed before 6pm. She’s loving it. But there is one problem:

“Koosie, the piano here is badly out of tune! It sounds terrible. It sounds alright when Barbara plays it because she really thumps the keys, but when I play it some of the notes don’t make a sound.” Omigoodness Mom, let’s get Professor Bloch to come and choon it, I suggest. She hoses herself. “He’ll have to come down from heaven,” she says. “Did he tune pianos?” she asks. “I think he only tuned violins.” Oh well . .

I try another dodge. Mom! Maybe the reason I only went to one piano lesson in my rugby togs was cos Miss Underwood’s piano was out of tune?! Nooit! She leaps to Miss Underwood’s defence. “Oh no, she would have had her piano fully tuned. And I would have noticed. I had lessons from her for twenty years, from when I was six to when I was sixteen,” she defends stoutly if arithmetically dodgily.

True, I conceded, and you’ve been practicing for eighty years since. “Ooh, I spose that’s right,” she says sounding amazed.

~~oo0oo~~

“You know, when I used to play the piano in the Boksburg-Benoni hospital sometimes some of the nurses would just carry on talking.” Um, right Ma. I mean, NO!?

A few weeks later: “A man came to play the piano for us. He’s very good, some of the best playing I’ve ever heard. He teaches music here in Greytown.” I’m thinking, the piano can’t be too bad then. I ask, What did he play? “Oh, modern stuff. Sinatra, Blue Suede Shoes, I asked him to play What A Wonderful World, and he said, ‘Oh thank you!  I love that and I haven’t played it in so long!’ It was beautiful.”

Geezer

‘Geezer’ refers to an older person, almost always a man, whose behaviour is regarded as either eccentric or typically ‘elderly.’ So what’s that got to do with me, you ask?

Geezers make hilarious comedy. Some well-known American examples of ‘geezers’ are Grampa Simpson of the Simpsons, Grandad Freeman of the Boondocks, Albert in Steptoe & Son, etc.

Geezers are often – wrongly, I now growl defensively – depicted as irritable and cranky, at least mildly irrational, and mired firmly in the past. Hmph!

‘The metric system is the tool of the devil! My car gets 40 rods to the hogshead and that’s the way I likes it.‘ Grampa Simpson.

‘The best way to describe Grandad Freeman is that he is old yet unwise. He never accepts responsibility for his actions, nor does he learn any lessons’.

More Grampa Simpson: ‘Dear Mr. President, there are too many states nowadays. Please eliminate three. I am not a crackpot;’

Grandad Freeman is not exactly the best parental figure or influence (eg. he is perfectly fine with sneaking into movies without paying). He mutters, ‘I hate to see a child go unbeaten.’ To explain his grumpiness, his grandkids sing of him, ‘He’s just mad ’cause his ass is old!’

Albert Steptoe (with a beer on the coffin of his brother): ‘This is the first drink I’ve ever had on him;’ and, ‘Reading books leads to communism.’

– two jebediahs –

The word geezer originally meant a person of any age, the criterion of ‘geezerhood’ being oddness. When it first appeared in the late 1800s, ‘geezer‘ simply meant eccentric in looks and/or behaviour. The root of ‘geezer‘ is ‘disguiser’ – a person who dresses up in costume for a masquerade or other occasion. To call someone a ‘guiser’ (pr. ‘geezer’) was to say that they were dressed and/or behaving as oddly as one might on Halloween, for example. Sometime around the 1920s ‘geezer‘ started to mean an older, eccentric man says The Word Detective.

~~oo0oo~~

My kids mainly call me Daddy or Dad. When they say Da-ad I know they’re going to ask for money. Tom also uses Ballie and Pops. Of my extra daughters, Gugu calls me Pete, and Ziggy calls me Geezer. I cracked up inside when she first said it, but bit my lip. So Ziggy always calls me ‘Geezer’ – and spells it ‘Geyser.’

~~oo0oo~~

Mom & Fats

Last night Ma Mary didn’t have much to tell me. She has been distracted – they’re moving to Greytown soon and that takes up a lot of her thinking. But she did tell me she remembered Fats Waller’s song Alligator Crawl and can still play it.

So tonight I phoned and asked, Do you want to listen to some music? Ooh yes! she was keen, so I played this:

She loved that; she couldn’t remember Aint Misbehavin’ but the music freed her mind; And she was off! We went through four tonsillectomies: Her own as an adult soon after her wedding – she bled a bit afterwards; then Barbara’s – she had to get stitches in Frank Reitz’s surgery as she had a bleed while recovering; Sheila’s – she had to go back into hospital; mine – we went to recover on Kindrochart, no bleeding.

In the Boksburg-Benoni hospital when she was finishing her training her sister in charge said to her, I want you to become a theatre sister. But, Mary says modestly, ‘I don’t think I had the guts for it.’ She rather went and did her midwifery at Addington in Durban. I think assisting births takes lots of guts too!

‘Oh here comes my cocktail,’ ended our call, as it occasionally does.

~~oo0oo~~

Sounds like a fun frailcare, but her cocktail is completely alcohol-free; a mocktail: a painkiller and sleeping tablet, crushed with a pestle in a mortar and mixed with yoghurt, followed by a tiny quarter sandwich, which always ‘Is delicious, even though I’ve already brushed my teeth.’

Fast Talking

My cellphone bill ran at R1075 a month. Of course I do have a few hangers-on and their need for data rivals a hummingbird’s need for nectar, but I did keep thinking, Must Ask Karen at Cellucity for a Breakdown of my Bill. And I did. Eventually. After 24 months.

Turns out I have two numbers I have never used that I am faithfully paying for airtime who knows why. Cancel them please, I say. Oh she can’t. What!? Nope, she can SELL me numbers, but she can’t CANCEL numbers. To CANCEL you have to phone 0821958 all by yourself, hold on and press buttons. Yay!

Cebisile is very pleasant, very helpful, very informative – and fiercely resistant to actually cancelling any numbers! ‘NO! Rather do this and that and you’ll still have everything but only be paying R880 a month.’ Long explanation of what a good deal this is and how important ‘her pensioners’ are to her. But I never use the numbers or the airtime. ‘Yes, but NO! Rather keep everything AND get a new tablet and phone, which we’ll courier straight to you, AND I’ll reduce your bill to R640 a month.’ Long explanation of what a good deal this is and how important ‘her pensioners’ are to her.

At this point of a lo-ong call I give in. Here’s what I want to know, I say: I’m paying how much at the moment? R1075. And I will be paying how much from now on? R640. OK, Cebisile, go ahead and do it please. Shit and Bust.

~~oo0oo~~

footnote: The ‘free’ phone and tablet did arrive by courier.