Wheatlands News

We had a compulsory careers evening at my school when I was in Std 9 (Grade 11) but because I was only interested in becoming a journalist, I refused to go to hear what any of the other professions were all about. It was a very conservative school, and a very long time ago, so the choice of professions deemed suitable for a woman was not very large. It was suggested that we could become nurses (not doctors) and secretaries (not CEOs). I seem to remember that being a legal secretary was ok too. Or a veterinary assistant. (Apropros of that, I saw a wonderful billboard in San Francisco last year: Be the CEO your parents hoped you would marry. Sadly the pic I took of it at night was a blurry mess and I didn't go back down that street before we left.) My singlemindedness, coupled with the lack of choice and a conviction that I couldn't draw, meant that I never considered architecture as a possibility. Maybe it is because I have been a journalist and writer for so long that I a...

Three years ago I decided to make a doll's house for Taylor. I insisted on going to buy the wood and get it cut the morning that I made the decision, and then, rather typically, it was packed away and no more was done. This Christmas, Greg challenged me to get it finished, which transformed it into the 'Great 2018 Dollhouse Project', and in a second transformation, I decided that Taylor might be too old for it but that I probably am not. One of the great things about creating a world in miniature, is that it makes you look at the things around you with completely different eyes. I am assessing everything that I see to determine its convertibility into furniture and fittings. Greg helped me to cut out the windows yesterday, so now I am planning paint colours, wall and floor finishes and which rooms should be what. I'm planning a laboratory in the attic, and thinking of a shop as part of the ground floor. It is 1:12 scale, so the adult people will be betw...

On Saturday I spent the morning at the Fair Cape Dairies farm, enjoying the quiet of the wheatfields, perched on a cement structure of uncertain purpose and taking pictures of the more than 500 people who turned out for a trail run. Even at my fittest, running has never been my thing. At a time when I could quite happily warm up with a 2km swim, I was still trailing far behind anything that required running. So I was happy to hide behind my camera lens as a detached observer on Saturday watching the pople of all sizes, shapes and fitness levels pass me by.

On January 1, 2012, I scandalised the worthy residents of Moorreesburg by lying around on my front veranda. It was, perhaps, evidence of serious over indulgence on New Year's Eve? Actually, what I was doing was painting  little people on the walls . I was happy recently when we paid a visit to the tenants to see that they were still there. This weekend I decided to continue the tradition on our stairs. It was an excercise in patience too, as lying around on the stairs really brings the sloppy finishes that the builders left us with into sharp focus!

Nine things about my mother ... Yes, I know that it should be 90, in celebration of her birthday last week, but you'd get bored with reading the list, long before I got bored with making it. 1. My mom moved into the granny flat at our house earlier this year. it was a big move for her, away from all the friends she had made in the retirement resort (it was never an 'old age home'). It has been an interesting journey. We have spent more time together than we have since I was in school and it has been an adjustment that has been easier than I expected. 2. I am much more tired than my mother. Or is it laziness? Every morning I take her a cappuccino made by Greg and without fail she is up and dressed, make up on and ready to tackle the world. I am up and dressed too, but most days all I want to do is go back to bed. 3. I have never, ever seen my mom lying down for a nap during the day. Not once. 4. I am awed by the patience my mother has with the people who treat her ...

One of the things that Greg and I have in common is that we really wanted to live in an old farmhouse-style house in a small country town. She was at home on the quad It was a romantic dream that led us to buying a really lovely property in Moorreesburg - 5m high ceilings, Oregan pine floors, a swimming pool and loads of space indoors and out. Our lives there were a mixture of fun and frustration. We discovered that it is not always easy to live in a country town where many of the people are still fuming about the English victory in the South African (Boer) war over a century ago. We also met some wonderful people, and made some friendships that we don't keep up nearly enough. big wheels One of the highlights of the Moorreesburg year is the Skou and it is a highlight of our year too, even though we no longer live in our lovely Swartland home. This year, we had even more fun than usual because we decided to take Taylor with us. Spray on tattoo! ...

Sometimes memories are best captured in the mind and the heart, rather than on camera. The pic here is a prime example of that! Last night we were fortunate to be given tickets to A Handful of Keys which is currently on at the Theatre on the Bay and wow! What an experience! A Handful of Keys is a show that I have been wanting to see ever since it first opened in 1994. But somehow, in spite of everyone raving about it, there was always a reason not to get tickets (procrastination being the main one). It features two pianists and their baby grands, a wardrobe of amazing costumes and pure, pure talent. The show was a co-creation by Ian von Memerty and Bryan Schimmel and, over 1450 performances later, more than 420 000 people have enjoyed the magical mix of music, memory and humour. The current show is directed by Ian von Memerty and features the fabulous Roelof Colyn (who has been part of the show since 2011) and the elastic-faced, 19-year old (19!!!) James Smith. Here's...

If you are into searching for hidden treasures, then the Milnerton flea market is the place to be on Saturdays, Sundays and public holidays. We are looking for some fittings for our antique toilet cistern, and the weather was lovely so we decided to go for a stroll. assegai, anyone? I was wondering how many steps we had taken as we meandered down one side of the large area and up the other, but my fitness app thinks I was riding a bicycle for the 51 minutes we were there, and recorded 8.65km. As a by-product of its confusion, I am now seriously worried about what I look like when I walk. Do I stomp? Do I glide? Do I sway from side to side? The people who visit the flea market are as varied as the junk treasures on display. Sadly I did not get a picture of the woman whose unique style of ice cream eating should really have been recorded. Most people - I am sure - eat an ice cream cone by licking it. This woman stuck her tongue out in a way that would made her the star of...

In my lifetime as a journalist I have interviewed many people from all walks of life. Some world famous, others for whom fame is only a dream. Today I had the privilege to interview a man who will surely rank as one of my top five most memorable interview subjects. Dakalo Muavha has just begun his fellowship in the sub specialty of urogynaecology. When he has finished, he will be the first black male urogynaecologist in South Africa. But that is not the most remarkable thing about him. The picture above which I got off Google Maps is the road to Masiza High School in a deeply rural part of Limpopo. Here's the other side of that road: This is where Dakalo went to school. The middle child of a single, unemployed mother, his  dream for as long as he could remember was to be a doctor. He was the only person in his high school to do maths on the higher grade, and as his teacher was only able to teach standard grade they often had to work out problems together. Google map...

I've been thinking of my blog for a while now and wondering whether to revive it or to start a new one.  There are some good things coming up, like our trip to the US for the WFSJ conference which is also going to include a train trip across the country, so having a blog again seems right again. I'm not sure really what happened. I stopped reading many blogs and started associating them with work more and more. I do know that writing in other people's voices, which is  what I spend most of my time doing, needs an antidote. But I have said 'I'm back!' so many times that I am not saying it this time.  Just a little, quiet 'maybe'. Part of the returning to blogging has been rediscovering old favourites, like Julie's Moments of Perfect Clarity  which I used to read with a cup of coffee every day. Then I started just keeping up with her days on Facebook and Instagram (blogging is a kind of sanctioned stalking). Reading her blogs again has reminded ...

About 15 years ago, I was standing at the back of a church that I had recently started attending. Well out of the way, making sure that no one had any real reason to speak to me, when a young guy walked up to me and started chatting. His straight blonde hair was down to his waist and he had an infectious smile and a crazy laugh. By the time I left, I had somehow invited him to lunch, an action which was totally contrary to my usual habit of keeping everyone at a safe distance. He gave me a hug as he left, little realising how much that freaked me out as he had been the first person, apart from my children, to be allowed into my personal space for about four years. The encounter changed my life in many ways. For one thing, I met my husband through him. I began to realise that not everyone in the world was my enemy. And I had hours and hours of fun and laughter. This past week, Marc has been staying with us. He opened a new exhibition in Cape Town and seemed impressed enough with wh...

I remember when I was about 10 years old, my brother gave me four books... one was The Hobbit and the others were the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I can still remember him saying that he was envious of me because I would be reading them for the first time. Having read them all more than a few times, I can understand his feelings exactly, and I have enjoyed introducing others to the wonderful world of JRR Tolkien's imagination. There is something so special about the creation of another world by a mind of great intellect. I have just finished reading The Long Earth by Terry Pratchett and Stephen Baxter, and although it was not a work of anything like the same scale and depth, it filled me with the same kind of nostalgic longing for another world which is as real as this one, but frustratingly just outside my grasp. (There is a lovely, illustrated biography of Tolkien on this blog  .)

pic from  http://interioralchemy.tumblr.com/page/10#   So, last night I attended a book club meeting for the first time in my life. It is hard to believe that I've reached this (hopefully not too) ripe old age, without having belonged to a book club.I love books, I love reading and usually I don't mind people too much. I'm middle aged and middle class so surely I tick all the right book club boxes? I'm reading William Gibson 's book of essays " Distrust that Particular Flavour " (Recommended by Julie at Moments of Perfect Clarity. She has some great excerpts from the book  on her blog). When I got home I was feeling a bit bewildered. It was a nice night. Two people I really like were there, and the other women were interesting and engaging. The food was delicious. the books were great. But something was niggling, and it took Gibson to give me the answer when he wrote: "In writing speeches, curiously, one sometimes finds out what one thinks...

A Boer woman with her dead child, the last of her children to die, photographed by Emily Hobhouse The women are wonderful. They cry very little and never complain. The very magnitude of their sufferings, their indignities, loss and anxiety seems to lift them beyond tears… only when it cuts afresh at them through their children do their feelings flash out. Some people in town still assert that the Camp is a haven of bliss. I was at the camp to-day, and just in one little corner this is the sort of thing I found – The nurse, underfed and overworked, just sinking on to her bed, hardly able to hold herself up, after coping with some thirty typhoid and other patients, with only the untrained help of two Boer girls–cooking as well as nursing to do herself. Next tent, a six months’ baby gasping its life out on is mother’s knee. Two or three others drooping sick in that tent. Next, a girl of twenty-one lay dying on a stretcher. The father, a big, gentle Boer kneeling beside her; while, ...

Akira the cat is very happy to be back in the city. She has undergone a personality change! The biggest thing that has happened since I was last here is that we have moved away from the countryside. No more Moorreesburg, with all its joys and frustrations. No more 45 degree celsius summer days. No more green wheatfields. No more dry, brown, dusty wheatfields. No more checking up on the farm animals as we drive home. No more wide open spaces. We have traded that all in for Table View suburbia and an office for the company at the end of the garden. We are just a few kilometres from the sea, but don't get there often enough. So far all the things I thought I would do when I was spending less time on the road haven't happened yet, but we are here and I am happy and that matters. Watching the wreck of the Seli slowly disintegrate has become one of our most relaxing pastimes. Its like watching paint dry, but with a view

Since I was last here, I have been here: Gorree Island, Senegal Gorree Island, Senegal walked in the mist with Greg and the dogs seen spiders near Hermanus swung over a tranquil pond attended my school reunion (leg showing in the wind) been to Ficksburg in the Eastern Freestate yes and celebrated my mother's 85th birthday I don't want to say that I am back... but I might be. Watch this space... I will be watching too