Rain and Meals on Wings

At last some good rain. And the flying ants are out in force! Wings and scurrying bodies everywhere, clustered around our lights.

“We’ll have fat geckos and I hope the owls and nightjars have a feast, Tom! Even the monkeys will love it if they’re still around tomorrow”

Grumble grumble I don’t like them he mutters. Then Why don’t the monkeys come out at night? Are they too scared of leopards? he asks.

“I think so”, I say. “I think its bred into them that night-time is dangerous and it’s not their time to eat.”

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wings and bougainvilla ‘petals’ – this guy is lovin’ it

Off to the Master

Needed a fresh copy of my Letter of Executorship as Aitch’s one firm just woke up that they still have her pension money.

So off to the office of the Master of the Kwazulu-Natal High Court Durban downtown. Devonshire place near the old Durban Club (where I once got kicked out as Glen Barker’s guest for “unacceptable attire” – I was wearing slacks, shoes and a white top like we used to test eyes in back then. Farking snobs, I’m glad they went bankrupt and had to sell the club to a Zim lady, cadre of Bob Mugabe’s. Imagine how that must have stuck in their cravated craws! Pricks).

Pleasant enough experience as bureaucratic torture goes. Until it came time to pay. R4,50 – that’s about 30 US cents – for a copy of the letter. The catch: You had to leave the building, find an ABSA bank, queue there, pay and then come back with your receipt, starting afresh at the back of the queue!

You COULD NOT dream up a less convenient way of handling that if you spent a week plotting how to mess with a citizen’s mind!

Hella Hella Tractor Lives Again

Hella Tractor

Granpa Payn’s 1947 Farmall Cub roared into life again 68yrs on after Warren Porter rebuilt and restored it recently.

Here’s 15yr-old Warren driving it after a previous restoration ca. 1990. This is its third life and its second back-from-the-dead revival!

Warren restored this old Vaaljapie and kept it running
Warren restored this old Vaaljapie-cousin back then.

What is the most valuable life skill a person can have?

The ability to be happy.

A sense of humour!

The ability to be happy while also being alone.

Resilience – the ability to bounce back

Resilience

Life won’t always be fair to you. The ability to bounce back and the attitude of not giving up on life is a rare trait worth trying hard to cultivate.

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The ability to make someone laugh!

The ability to forgive and forget.

This realisation:
People aren't thinking about you
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Self Discipline : The only skill you require to master any other skills or habits.

The ability to express your thoughts:
Express yr Thoughts
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The ability to learn (also from your mistakes).

The ability to let go – Of stuff and of guilt and blame.

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Getting out of your comfort zone:
Comfort Zone
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Being completely honest with yourself, and both strict and patient with (and even kind to) yourself.

Realising how fortunate you are. The knowledge that you have enough already . . or more simply: ‘gratitude’.

The ability to love yourself – and then to radiate that love outwards.

The willingness to try new stuff with enthusiasm.

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These answers were given by various quora.com readers/writers. I chose the ones I liked best!

Memoirs: THIS is what I’m on about

It’s sad when – too late – we regretfully say: “I wish I had asked my mother about that.” Or my father. Or my grandmother.
Most parents know our children are not as fascinated by our fascinating lives as we are. Only when they have children of their own—and feel the first twinges of their own advancing age—do they suddenly want to know more about their family heritage and all its stories, legends, myths and anecdotes: ‘What exactly were those stories my mom used to tell about . . . (her ancestors? farming? their old cars? camping? traveling? the war? books she’d read?)?’ ‘Where exactly was it that she grew up? Sure, Harrismith district, but which farm, where?’

Writers are the custodians of memory, and that’s what you must become to leave some kind of record of your life and of the family you were born into. That record can take many shapes. It can be a formal memoir. Or it can be an informal family history, written to tell your children and your grandchildren about the family they were born into. It can be the oral history that you extract by tape recorder or mp3 from a parent or a grandparent too old, too sick or not inclined to do any writing. Or it can be anything else you want it to be: some hybrid mixture of history and reminiscence.

Whatever it is, it’s an important kind of writing.

Too often memories die with their owner, and too often time surprises us by running out. Pffft! like that.

Start like this:

1955 – born

1960 – memories of the ‘farmhouse’

1961 – Moved to town

1961- Sub A Teacher Mrs van Reenen

1972 – Matric

etc

Then go back to it regularly, or every time you think of something, and add little bits – just dates and notes. It’ll grow from there. And your grandkids WILL be fascinated. Your great-grandkids more so.

Best place to do it nowadays is on a blog just like this one.

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Paraphrased from William Zinsser – “How to Write a Memoir”

‘Security is an Illusion’

This is less of a quote and more of a personal mantra.

The idea we can make ourselves safe, our loved ones safe, our world safe is a pernicious and dangerous idea that limits freedom and kills curiosity. Unfortunately, it’s an idea our society seems to be preoccupied with lately. CHINA-Great%20Wall%20ofr%20China%203.jpg

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for reasonable individual, personal (and personalised) precautions, but I worry about a society that thinks its OK to prescribe to others what they may or may not do as long as they say “It’s for our security”. Cut down that whole clump of indigenous trees and bush? Good idea. Mow that whole strip of grassland along the fence? Good idea. Run vicious electrified or razor wire along the top of every wall, every fence? Good idea. Those are NOT good ideas!

And I worry about a generation that genuinely seems to think walking somewhere is inherently dangerous (“um, not for me, understand, but for the kids”) and playing outside is “more risky” than playing indoors. So many people tell of having fun as kids jumping over a fence, but see to it that their kids cannot.

When fear rules our lives we cease to live.

Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.

Security is also a con. Used to sell products and used to sell wars.
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(Thank you ironic1.com – I used your post and modified it).

Bayete Mkhulu!

Tobias is a grandfather. Sphamandla has a little boy, healthy and ‘very big’.

I told him he’s a kehla now. “You can call me mkhulu” he said in the same unbelieving way I said “Now I’m a pensioner” this last birthday.

Eish! Where’s the emergency brake?

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‘course my coming-of-age party was ruined in that I’ve been offered pensioners discount for the past twenty years already by sumbitches who obviously need spectacles.

– actually, mkhulu Tobias still looks much like this, taken some years ago –

~~~oo0oo~~~

Mkhuze Camping

Mkhuze with Jess-collage
– click on pic to see my fiery jackal with a slit throat in the embers –

While I was pitching camp Jess came running to me with a horrified look on her face. She must have seen a snake or a leopard, I’m sure.

“DAD!!” she says breathlessly, horrified, stricken. “DAD!! There’s no wifi here!!”

Her idea of hell.

~~oo0oo~~

Embarrassing note:
I am good at giving advice. If you ask me – actually you don’t even need to ask – I will tell you what the MOST IMPORTANT thing is to take camping.

The FIRST thing you pack when you go camping is a deck chair.

I know this cos my pal Greg Bennett told me back in 1983 on my first Duzi Canoe Marathon. He said “Pete, you can forget everything else but take a deck chair. The most important comfort item you can take is your deck chair,”  he said. I have since pontificated on this very often.

So on this trip to Mkhuze: I forgot the ducking feckchairs.

The girls sat on ammo boxes. I sat on the tailgate. Greg is right: You can’t lean back and snooze on a tailgate.

~~oo0oo~~

And we FINALLY saw an ele in Mkhuze! One lone elephant. I was beginning to think there were none left. He was across a little bay in Nsumo Pan. His one leg was wounded. Thru our binnies we could see what looked like a deep, healed snare wound right round his foot.

~~oo0oo~~

Home Invasion

It’s holidays!! yay. They’re short. YAY!!

So I get this: “Dad – May 7 people pls sleep over?”

Home Invasion

So I put my foot down and Negotiated Tough. We settled on six total.

Then one arrived by bicycle and one’s Mom dropped him off. So I ended up only catering for eight meat-eating 13-and 14-yr-old noisy, farty, rugger bugger boys. Just as Tom had asked for in the beginning (no doubt having told them Yeah, No Problem! right from the start!).

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Poor Jess!

(Sunday I got rid of three of them and then I had five referees playing rugby in the pool. Loud shouts of “Played On!” “Offsides!” “Release!” “High Tackle!” “Use it!”)

~~~oo0oo~~~

A Brief Foray

. . . into the real world.

We went to Mbona to vist Brooose and Heather on their one country estate. Took two kayaks and two fishing rods and four kids.

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‘Twas with great relief they got their noses back into their cellphones and the world of selfies and updates. Huh? What? Oh, did we enjoy the fishing? Oh, the real fishing on the dam, you mean? uh huh. Slight nod. They’re busy re-connecting.

Insta’friends’

instagram

Dad! I got 200 followers on instagram! Please can I buy some followers, Dad!? Ha! I now have 362 followers, more than Beast and Midnight! I’m second in our gang now, Dad. Only Lungu has more than me.

*sigh* How do you get followers, fella? You can buy them Dad. I mean besides that. Oh, I follow people and then when they follow me I just unfollow them. Oh so they’re real, true friends. Blank look.

Hmm. Oh, and also if you post awesome pictures, people follow you.

OK. Do you post pics of the pool and the kayak and Sambucca the gorgeous labrador and . .?

A look of immense sadness and deep pity clouds his face. Dad! How lame. We post pics of ourselves! Selfies!

How thrilling fella.

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Maybe like this one?

More selfies
No Dad! Be serious!