Tag Archives: Mtwalume

On Being The Underdog

It’s true I sometimes ‘forget’ to buy poisons, but this time Mrs Mpisane made me assure her I’d have ‘Domestos’ and ‘Handy Andy’ for her final big clean, as we leave the cottage tomorrow, heading north to Darkest Zoolooland.

And I forgot.

Pretty Mpisane had cleaned the cottage for us once before and when I confessed I hadn’t bought the Domestos and Handy Andy she’d cheerfully said, ‘Don’t Wurrie I’ll use sunlight liquid.’ I couldn’t mea culpa again, so this morning I hared off the 12km to Hibberdene Spar, got there at 7.01am, and was about their 4029th eager customer. Something about Pension Payout Day. I grabbed the two things I needed and stood in line with dozens of ancient, shuffling, walking stick-wielding elderly people, all about my age. OK, many younger.

The fifty-ish guy in front of me had a basket. Later a gogo with a trolley joined, but this guy Fifty in front of me made her move back a metre behind so as to keep the lane clear. I gave him an impressed nod, like ‘You’re doing the right thing, brother.’ He explained queueing protocol at length to me and the gogo and all who would listen, and had us all smiling and laughing as he gesticulated and waxed lyrical.

A young oke in a light blue denim top joined right against me, squeezing up so as to keep the passage clear, but to no avail. Fifty the Queue Cop was onto him like a flash. How dare he push in front of Trolley Gogo! Young Denim put up some laughing resistance but gave in and gave way, and was banished. More people joined in the aisle behind Trolley Gogo. A holdup at the till meant no movement, but I was fifth in line, on the near side of that aisle, and happy to wait.

Then a Spar manager came up and said, ‘Please sir, Move to the back of the queue.’ I laughed, No ma’am I’ve been here all along, before that lady with the trolley, I didn’t push in.

She looked at Fifty, who looked away. When did he join? asked Spar Lady. I know nothing, I saw nothing, says Fifty! Bastid! Ask the lady, I suggested. She knew nothing. I said, But I was here when you arrived and this gentleman made you move back to there! You remember! She knew nothing.

Move to the back please sir.

I picked up the Domestos and Handy Andy at my feet – which please note I didn’t even want to buy actually – and did the long walk of shame down the aisle next to the now even longer queue. Halfway there was Young Denim. ‘Ha, you tried to crook,’ he laughed. I didn’t and you know it, I laughed back at him. And you know that, I said in isiZulu. He just grinned even more.

..

Life is cruel. Did I mention that I didn’t even want to buy this shit actually? And here’s me breathing the air of 4029 people and reflecting on what it’s like to be the underdog for once and how some are subjected to this kind of thing daily.

Suddenly I remembered the small Pick n Pay across the little alley. The one we choose not to frequent. Dumping my goods, I did the short walk of relief and peered in there. Only three people and a long row of Domestos and Handy Andy bottles taped together in a promotional pack!

I Picked I Paid I Fled. I was out in two minutes flat. HellaBladdyLooya!

Mrs. Mpisane said a matter of fact Thanks and got to work. I was disappointed a bigger song and dance wasn’t made of my heroic effort.

~~oo0oo~~

Mtwalume Small Things

. . and today, a Lesser Honeyguide in the Milkwood tree! An Indicator minor in a Mimusops afra

– the banded mongoose gang visit regularly –

Mrs Pretty Mpisane who works at the cottage next door came in for a whirlwind day of cleaning. She gave orders, and we cleared rooms ahead of her. Much sweeping, and mopping and wiping down.

The day after, this tiny little mushroom popped up in the freshly-cleaned bathroom! About 10mm diameter cap.

And last thing before we left: Jess had a birthday and her friends Lwazi and Sandi treated her to roses.

Agronomy

Us agronomists have lots of planning to do. There’s the preparing the soil, planting the seed and watering the crop and other stuff I know very little about. But I’ve heard about it.

Sometimes though, you can sit in a chair on your stoep and watch a plant growing in a flowerpot and idly wonder what it is. A tomato plant! Hey, look at that. I immediately claimed credit and started planning what to with the harvest once the leaves had done their bit, then the flowers bloomed and now for the harvest! The word ‘bumper’ came to mind. Harvests are often bumper.

I decided I’d share generously.

– had to tell Terry the green thing wasn’t a finger –

Maybe I’ll buy a few pockets of onions and make a bredie?

~~oo0oo~~

My pic of the stoep, chair and flowerpot was neatly photobombed by a box kite spider!

stoep – porch

bredie – cooked tomato and onion mix; mine usually found in a can

What’ll Eye Do?

A special sighting in the garden in Mtwalume! A male Black-throated Wattle-eye some 80km south of where he’s usually to be found. Durban is where I last saw him, in the Beachwood mangroves.

Roberts says: In southern Africa, along the eastern littoral from southern Mozambique as far south as Durban, KwaZulu-Natal, with isolated records from E Cape as far south as Gonubie. Near-threatened in S Africa, where evidence for population decreases due to eg habitat destruction.

Plenty of habitat destruction along the south coast I’m afraid.

As usual, me and my camera were too slow. Moving targets ‘are not us,’ but I got one good view in my binocs and one saturation view, clearly seeing his red eye wattle.

I’ll watch out for him now, camera in hand.

– pics from Roberts and Newmans bird apps –

He was still there the next day, but too quick for me and my camera.

Caribbean Visitor

I’m murdering these as I find them, but they’re interesting while they’re still alive. Take a look.

Mimosa pudica
Native to the Caribbean and South and Central America, but now a pantropical weed. Found in the Southern United States, South and East Asia, Micronesia, Australia, South and West Africa. Not shade-tolerant, it is primarily found on soils with low nutrient concentrations. Like in the lawn of this Mtwalume beach cottage.

https://videopress.com/v/yQ7JVJNf?resizeToParent=true&cover=true&preloadContent=metadata&useAverageColor=true

One of few plants that can ‘move fast.’ Not as fast as insect-eating plants like the Venus Flytrap, but pretty quick. For a plant.

~~oo0oo~~

And – hopefully – some local blossompies:

– Indian Ocean sunrise from my bed –
Aneilema aequinoctiale – Commelina
Commelina benghalensis maybe
– Phaulopsis imbricata –

Phaulopsis imbricata is a shrub native to Southern Africa. A good fodder, the young leaves are eaten as a vegetable and the plant-ash in oil is used for rheumatism in Tanganyika. The flowers have an unpleasant smell. It is filed as near-threatened by the IUCN. It is one of the larval host plants of the butterflies great eggfly, tiny grass blue, brown pansy, soldier pansy and marbled elf.

~~oo0oo~~

Another Visitor

A Red-lipped Herald snake visited this morning. It was enjoying the wet weather I suppose – we had a real downpour last night and this morning. So it was probly out hunting frogs.  This was a little one, about 300mm long, I guess.

A couple days later an even smaller one made its way under the door.  Played dead when he saw me. He also got shipped out to the garden.

Crotaphopeltis hotamboeia The story goes that its presence was first mentioned in the Eastern Cape Herald Newspaper, hence the name.

– hawk moth ? –

This poor fella fluttered in and died. A Forest Brown, maybe?

And an offshore visitor: A juvenile Brown Booby flying and floating just behind the backline. Seen from the deck off my upstairs bedroom three days in a row. A ‘lifer’ for me!

– pic by Harold Moses on flickr –

~~oo0oo~~

Visitors

What’s that bird!? I often wonder before realizing, Ah, It’s The Mongeese. And their mongoslings. The Banded Mongoose band, about 25 strong, that have this coastal cottage garden on their daily route.

A busy bunch of all ages, they twitter and squeak to keep in touch as they rustle and skoffel through the thick undergrowth. Big excitement when they find a snail. They carry it to a wall then hurl it backwards between their back legs to crack the shell against the wall. Usually it takes a few tries before they get a good throw. Sometimes the first sign of their presence is the skoffel, crack! of them hurling a snail against the wall near the door.

If I’m outside and I move, or a biggish bird flies overhead, the big ‘uns will give an alarm call and they’ll all scurry for cover at speed.

~~oo0oo~~

skoffel – like rustle; both are also first names for blokes, dunno why

Visitors? I’m the visitor. They’re residents! With the really cool scientific moniker Mungos mungo. So we’ll have to call one of them Jerry. They’re peaceful in their own colony, but fight fiercely with other gangs. Gang warfare! And how’s this? In the midst of a battle, females may have a quickie with rival males! Whoa! Females: Always multitasking. Fighting, yet still time to think of their genetic diversity! – wikipedia.org

Xmas at the Cottage

A quiet week in the Soutars’ Mtwalume cottage on the KwaZulu Natal south coast. Tom joined Jess and me for a few days. On xmas day we enjoyed a lovely lunch, expertly sourced by all of us in a supermarket about 25km away. Pre-cooked gammon, me-made veges and Tom-made pasta. Jess probly did pud, but we can’t remember what is was.

– Larry in Ohio called my delayed timer pic “Four Hams” –

My hair is mussed as I’d just come down the chimney – dunno what Tom’s excuse is . .

– Jess took this one, showing more of the lounge – I will get round to that paperwork one day –

~~oo0oo~~

Just a little Smoke . .

. . emanated from under the bonnet.

Dad! There’s smoke coming out from under the bonnet! Jess n Tom shouted in unison. It’s nothing, I said reassuringly, A lot of cars smoke like that.

No they don’t! Jess n Tom shouted in unison, ganging up on me. What? Suddenly you okes are automotive engineers? I asked defensively.

So I had to break one of my rules of touring and advanced automotive engineering and open up that bonnet – something I try and avoid, and advise against. Every time I do, it costs me money. A pint of oil here, a new head gasket there.

This time a smoking fanbelt, one that ‘drives the aircon.’ That ‘had seized.’ Who knew an aircon machine under your bonnet needs driving? Who knew the aircon machine under your bonnet has a clutch? Who knew it could seize? Whatever next?

The clutch. That’s what was next. The actual big clutch for gears n things, attached to the pedal for your left foot. So now the bakkie is up on blocks like an SA Navy submarine and we await spare parts from Pretoria, wherever that is. Come to think of it, when I was in the army, we were told that the SA Navy headquarters was in Pretoria, safe from any salty water n stuff. We were. Swear. Make this make sense.

So here we are, stuck on the South Coast in a comfortable cottage having to watch humpback whales breaching beyond the breakers and dolphins porpoising in the waves, and birds in the shrubbery.

And at night, Come Dine With Me, on OpenView satellite TV, with Jess giving stern advice and criticism to the participants. And saying ‘Sis’ and ‘Yuck’ about some of their dishes and some of their habits.

My next bakkie is going to be automatic, so the clutch won’t hlupa me.

~~oo0oo~~

hlupa – hassle

YOU are so lucky . .

. . you don’t live in a cardboard box. I just found out I do.

I’ve weathered rainstorms here and high winds. I thought I was safe and snug in this cottage, but this morning I get this message after I’d suggested where Bruce the wicked landlord mount his second luxury TV screen:

“The wall behind the door is cardboard”

Imagine! I’ve been living on the edge!

https://genius.com/Monty-python-four-yorkshiremen-live-annotated

– Cardboard Cottage –

Mtwalume Cottage

A quiet time in the cottage. Except when Tommy joined me for a few days! Then there was action, fires, big meals and a much fuller bin bag for the rubbish truck on Wednesday.

~~oo0oo~~

Go Straight

Cecilia went home in March, as did Tobias. We thought it was for three weeks of COVID lockdown, but it turned out to be forever.

So now at last I was going to take the mountain of stuff she had accumulated while staying here, to her home in Mtwalume. She has always said she lives in Mtwalume. So with my white Ford Ranger loaded to the gunwales in the canopy and inside the cab – everywhere but my drivers seat, I headed south on the N2 highway. When I got to Mtwalume, I turned off the highway (1) – and phoned her.

‘OK, I’m at the Mtwalume turnoff. Where to from here?’

‘Go straight. There is a white cottage.’

Hm, there are about a dozen cottages, two or three are white. OK, which turnoff must I take – is this the right turnoff?

‘Go to Hibberdene, then look for Ghobela School.’ Ah, OK.

Back to the highway, seven kilometres later I turned off the downramp to Hibberdene (2); then turned right, turned right after Ghobela, turned right again past ‘Arts and Crafts’ and – just as she had said – there was a white cottage (3). Actually, two or three. Then there she was herself. Cecilia! Follow me, she indicated up a rough track.

I reversed up it, soon ran out of traction, engaged difflock and then eventually even that was no go. My wheels were spinning and when cow dung splattered on my rearview mirrors I stopped and we unloaded about thirty metres short of her house on top of the hill. Lots and lots of stuff.

The week before she’d come to Westville for our fourth attempt at satisfying the UIF requirements. This time we made payslips to match her Jan, Feb and March bank statements. Till today, still no luck. At least I could tell her to keep going, as Tobias had received a lump sum payment the week before!

The very next day she messaged me: ‘Morning Daddy. I hope you go well yesterday. I got my uif now. We thank you sir.’

Hallelujah!! At last!

Huge sigh of relief.

~~~oo0oo~~~

Didn’t take a single picture! Damn.

~~~oo0oo~~~

Trish once told me to Go Straight!