As the drought persisted, Irma and self decided to look for another home for Skramunkel, because droughts could go on for ages in South Africa. Irma phoned the SPCA, who promised to look for a home where the little horse, not so little now, would be able to survive, as many of the roaming horses had already disappeared, presumably dead.
It wasn't long before the SPCA asked for a photograph of Skramunkel, as they had found a farm where young horses were saddle tamed,and used at the riding school, and they also have show horses, so we were very enthusiastic, as that meant good food and treatment, The SPCA had checked them out beforehand, and insured us that their animals were well looked after.
The people liked the look of Skramunkel, and after a few days the SPCA's trailer arrived, and when I saw it I burst into tears, as I so loved the horse, as she had been my companion for almost two years now. Skramunkel must have known that something was up, as she started galloping and snorting like a thing demented, round and round the camp. I fetched a few carrots and apples, as that could always bring her running up to me, but today she just kept on going, sweating and tossing her head angrily.
Then the strangest, and most awesome thing I have seen in a long time happened. There were three people from the SPCA who came to fetch the horse, a big burly man with a kindly face, a woman who looked like a world heavyweight, but her face was open and serene, and then there was this little Bushman, who I doubt was taller than 1,3 meters, with a yellow face as wrinkled as a dried up prune, but with a smile so wide, I think that if it wasn't for his ears, it would go right round his head.
He asked me if he could try calming the horse, and when he started opening the gate, I begged him not to, as Skramunkel did not allow strangers into her camp, but he just gave me a wide grin, and proceeded into the camp, looking at the horse all the time while slowly making his way further into the camp, talking softly all the time. Suddenly the horse stopped, and with nostrils flaring, she stood staring at the small man, and my heart almost stopped, as I knew how vicious she could be, but the man had also stopped, and stood looking back at the horse. The rest of us were deadly silent, and I felt shivers running down my back when suddenly Skramunkel gave a kick, then ran up to the man, coming to a stop right in front of him!
I could not believe my eyes when the man put out his hand, and Skramunkel allowed him to touch her, standing like the nicest, tamest horse ever, while I knew her for the temperemental little beast she was with strangers!
As if in a dream I watched the little horse follow the demunitive figure of the little man to the trailer, and all would have been well, seeing that Skramunkel was halfway up the ramp when Laika, the kid's dog decided to have a part in this drama, and stormed out barking! It enraged the horse, who hated Laika who was always at Nina'a heels when they had a bit of a tiff about some stolen veggies from the garden, and the dog's barking and growling had always upset the horse, who now scrambled off the ramp, and galloped down the dusty road.
But the small Bushman followed her at a trot, talking quite loud so she could hear him, but his voice stayed calm, and to my amazement the horse stopped and came walking back to him! I had taken Laika to Nina and asked her to keep her inside, and the man then asked me to stand at the back of the trailer with a carrot or apple to lure her in, as she was now not happy to walk up the ramp again.
And so with me begging, waving a nice carrot around, and the little man talking, Skramunkel was loaded. I was heartbroken when the moment of their departure came, and Skramunkel looked at me for a long time, and her eyes were so soft and sad that I almost opened the trailer door to let her out, but knew that that would mean sure death if it didn't rain soon!
It took a long time before I got used to the fact that there was no whinnying at my windows anymore, my roses didn't disappear, and the soft nose in my neck was no more, but we had regular updates on her welfare, and it seemed that Skrummies had settled down nicely at her new home, but oh my, I still miss the naughty little thing so much!

drought

As Jan and Nina had big water tanks, they could at least keep their veggie garden going, and I also benefitted from that, as the surplus was always given over to my side. Poor Skramunkel broke my heart as she stood at the chicken wire fence, looking with longing at the wonderful green food on the other side, and Nina ogling her with cold eyes in case she managed to get through the fence and devour their stuff, ready to do battle!
We were once again all together on Xmas day, but for once everybody did their own thing on Xmas eve, and it felt very strange to not have all my kids together.
But we all joined in to cook a Xmas lunch, and sat under the huge old pepper tree, just talking, some giving a snore now and then. It was quite cold, and we had to put on jackets, and that in the middle of summer! But Haarlem, I found out only after I bought my place, was one of the coldest places in South Africa.
We all went to Under Kouga, a beautiful place deep in the mountains, where the river was still flowing, taking the kayaks, as the kids became a bit bored with just lying around, as all their friends were away on holiday. It was a lovely day, and just rowing along the riverbank was so peaceful, and all the worlds troubles were forgotten for a few hours.
I lay on my back on the slow running water, as I am lucky to have very porous bones, or something, as I can lie for ages without moving, just drifting, and watching now and then to see where the water was taking me. I had a fright when the kids in the kayak suddenly splashed me with the oars, turned on my tummy, and felt my glasses slip off my face and into the water, never to be found again. The boys dived for some time to try and locate it, but that pair of sunglasses had disappeared forever.
All too soon the holiday was over, and we had to face reality again.

I went to get some food for Skramunkel one morning, but was told that there was none to be found anywhere, as the farmers were holding on to every scrap they had, and even the dry pellets that I used lately were not available anymore. I did not know what to do, as I had depleted the small source of fresh grass, and with no hope of getting food for the horse, I was feeling very, very helpless.
I drove all the way to George, where I found some horse feed at the co-op, but knew that the three bags they still had was only enough for a short while, and first thing every morning I went out to see if there were any clouds in the sky.
The field fires became more frequent, and sometimes came close to my house, and I had to use my small amount of alotted water to wet the roof, which was by now very dry, and would catch fire from only a small piece of ash that was hot enough to ignite the thatch.

I had decided that I did not like the pond with the black builders plastic, as I just could not get it to look natural, and the pieces that showed irritated me tremendously. My goldfish were still at the flat, and I was feeling a bitty guilty about my tennants looking after them, but as they get the flat at a reasonable rent, they did not mind in the least.
So one morning I started bringing up sand from the river, and as I am forever collecting pretty stones, all I needed then was a bag of cement, which I got from my co-op. Mixing the cement was quite a job, as the old back was not playing along too well, but I am one strong woman, and strong willed, so I persevered, and when that was done, I donned my wellies, my sunhat, and after I had removed the plastic, I first did the floor, arranging stones to look like they were scattered all over in a natural way
I then had to wait for the cement to dry, and it was hard to be kicking my heels whilst the lot took for ages to harden, but it did, and at long last I could start building the walls of the pond. It is quite difficult to arrange the stones jutting out to look natural, and as my gloves were hampering me too much, I discarded them, but cried some crocodile tears later when I sat nursing my bleeding hands.
I thought it looked beautiful when finished, and was in such a hurry to fill it up, but as the irrigation water was turned off, and we were allowed only a few kilo litres of water for the house per day, I had to keep my impatience in tow. But I fetched some water from the Kids's tank to keep the cement wet in case it cracked, as that would have been a disaster I would be hard put to overcome after my hard work.
The drought had by now become terrible, and Skramunkel was on dry food all the time, as the grazing were kaput, but I still cut her some of the grass growing around the sewerage every day. She hated the dry food, and looked at me accusingly when I put it out for her, but she was a lucky horse, as the horses roaming freely had to try and get some food by nibbling at the dried out morsels on the verges, as nobody cared about them, as long as they could pull the ploughs when planting time came.

 The farmers were worried, and so was the villagers, as most of them were dependent on the apple farms for their living, and if the drought went on for much longer, they might not have jobs, as most of them were seasonal workers.I heard the farmers say that as long as the day and night temperatures differ so much, the rain would stay away. It was strange to me that in the middle of summer the day temperature would be 35, and then by two a cool wind would blow up, getting so cold by about five that one had to don warm clothes.

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I have long since packed away my summer pajamas, as I never wore them, it just being too bally cold, so I take it to Scotland, where the summer nights were nice and warm.
My veggies that I planted close to the river had to be watered by hand every day, but I was rewarded for all my hard work with some nice greens amongst the brown dryness of everything else.
I will put a picture of my pond when I could fill it after  the drought was broken.

Xmas was now upon us, and the fruit was ripening, with the apricots the first to be ready. I have been trying since I first tasted the apricots to cultivate a tree for myself, as all the trees were on the kid's homestead. I got one going, and it was doing well indeed, when Sheila's cows broke into my place, and ate it up! Oh I was so cross, and wished kind of everything that was bad onto the cow who did it,but as nothing bad ever happened to any of the cows, I never found the culprit to give her a piece of my mind.
The little piglet, who by now was not quite so cute anymore, as he had this very small, pink rimmed eyes that looked at you as if he was contemplating devouring you as a small titbit, and as he grew bigger and bigger, I went to see him less and less with a special titbit from my kitchen, although he still got the left-overs.
The apricot trees were struggling under the weight of this years crop, as they have outdone themselves in giving us once again the most delicious fruit. Of course the birds once again tried their luck, and we again hung old cd's on the branches, leaving the tree with the least amount of fruit guardless so that the birds whose food sources were destroyed all the time in the name of  vooruitgang, could feed on the juicy fruit!
We again made jams, chutneys, and dried fruit, but it was just too much for us, even after we gave away some to visitors, so Kevin Bacon, the piglet, had a wonderful meal of over ripe apricots every day, and according to his grunts and snorts, he was a very happy porker!
My plums, the ones that were left over after Randy tore my trees down, were also extra delicious this year, dark purple, and as sweet as honey. I made lots of jam, and gave some to the children.
I was very worried about Skramunkel, as it was becoming quite dry, with no rains for the passed months, and the grass in the grazing camps had become brown and scarce. All was well at first, as Haarlem has a huge dam up in the mountains, but as Uniondale had already ran out of water, they had to get some from our dam, and soon we got notice that we could only irrigate two days per week for about an hour. That gave the grass a bit off a growing spurt, but then it was announced that all irrigation water would be stopped until further notice.
The roaming cattle became thin and gaunt, as they live by grazing on the grass on the verges, and with no grass left, they walked around aimlessly, looking for somewhere to fill their tummies, and also water, as the river had also dried up. Also the beautiful horses were loosing there beauty, as they also become emaciated, the owners just not able to buy food for them. Skramunkel was a lucky little horse, as around the sewerage area, the grass was still green and lush, and I cut her a bunch every day, but also bought hay from the co-op. I put a bucket with water outside the gate for the animals that stood looking into my place with their soft eyes, but it broke my heart to see the look of calm acceptance in their whole demeaner.
Of course with everything so dry, field fires flared up, and many nights I would stare out of the window at the flames stretching their fiery arms heavenwards, and I would have a pain in my heart for the many small and slower animals that would again be maimed or killed!
A lot of the fires are started by people making fires to cook on, and not putting it out properly when finished, and with he Haarlem breeze that came up every afternoon, that is a sure no-no!
But inbetween all this misery and hardship, my roses bloomed and bloomed, lifting my spirits whenever I felt a bit down looking at my world!

As it was still early enough in the season to plant certain veggies, specially rocket, spinach and some of the pumpkin families, I prepared a small patch where I hoped that I could control the creeper moles, as they were more or less concentrated around the house. This patch was a bit down, and closer to the river, and I had first to remove a load of stones, a backbreaking job, but there was no other way if I wanted fresh organic food. None of the many mole killing ideas people gave me worked, and I was by this time feeling a great hate against the wee rascals. So with Skramunkel breathing down my neck, feeling neglected, as I did not have time to play with her, nudging me until I took notice, I kept up the slog until I had a nice, well manured patch.
Ronalee phoned to say that she had a lot of seedlings, so the next morning I ambled up to her place, but found her in a state of distress, and she  informed me that she got to her garden that morning, and found a lot of her seedlings that she had just planted two days ago all wilted and dying! Up to now she was creeper mole free, and I could always buy some veggies from her, that is after my whole crop was destroyed, but the reason I was living this kind of life was to try and become independent of the shops with their poisoned stuff, and seeing my plants all wilted in the mornings after a mole attack, made me quite depressed!
However, she still had some spinach and also a few rocket seedlings she could spare, so I had to settle for being without any other veggies of my own growing until I went back to Scotland.
I was feeling very satisfied when I stood looking at my new veggie path with the neat rows of spinach, rocket, and also a few iceberg salad plants, and prayed fervently that it would not come under the notice of the moles or the snails!
Then disaster struck again, as when I went to my strawberry patch with my bucket to pick some for breakfast, I found all the calico covers pulled off, and not even one of the many strawberries that was almost ready the previous day, left. Only a few fermenting heaps of peacock poop gave evidence of the raid during the night, and I just lost it and screamed up to the heavens, wanting to know why the bally lot could not fall over and die. I was becoming quite antagonistic towards Sheila, as I knew that it would be a waste of time to go and complain about her peacocks, as she would just tell me again to shoot them, knowing that of course I could never do that.
Skramunkel must have felt my disgust and knew that I was in distress, as she stood at the fence, whinnying softly, and when I went to her, she laid her head against me without her usual rough playfulness, and after a while I felt myself calming down, but then the tears came, as it was such a disappointment to loose such a beautiful crop of berries!
I was quite depressed, as there was just so many odds against me, and not having a man to do the hard work, and not being able to find anybody prepared to do the hard work every time I had to replant or make a new patch, I was wondering if it was worth trying to live this bio-friendly and free life!

The chickens were becoming quite a problem, as the fights that broke out between the cocks were vicious, and some times the loser, or in many cases both of them would walk around bleeding, as their spurs were oversized and dangerous.It was quite a blow to us that there were only the one hen between the Kuk-kuks, and she had to be kept behind locked doors to protect her from her randy clan!
The reds were a different clan altogether, not as vicious, and what made things in their camp better was the fact that there were quite a few hens between the lot. But as they also grew into adulthood, and the Kuk-kuks started realizing that there were hens amongst them, the black clouds of unrest started showing, as the Kuk-kuks would try to cut the hens off from the cocks, and as the reds were a wee bit slower of wit than the Kuk-kuks, it would take some time before they realized that their hens were being abused behind the outbuildings, and another fight would break out, in which there was usually a few serious casualties.
Jan had started building again as he wanted to buy some piglets from a friend, and I was very interested in also getting one.
In the end he got only one, as his building skills were not too good, and by the time he had finished the stye, Pierre had sold all the piglets but one. So I missed my chance for the moment, but maybe for the best, as I was still not financially secure enough to stop working in Scotland.
The Piglet arrived one morning early, and I don't think that he was at all impressed by his new home, as he put up a show that I think roused the sleeping Haarlem with a nasty bang! He was the cutest little thing with his pink snout and ears, and as he had to be still suckled a few times a day, the kids thought him their personal toy, but he would not have any of it, preferring one of the grown-ups to give him his milk.
 It was decided to name him Kevin Bacon, which sounded a bit macabre to me, but Jan explained that they thought it a suitable name, as it would remind them all the time that the pig was meant to become bacon in the future!

To know Sheila is both a delightful experience, but also one of stress, as she had too many animals, and not enough space for them to roam, thus it was that not only her goats, but also her cows, and of course the bally peacocks were a constant thorn in my flesh! She is a strange mixture of kindness and heartlessness, but that only if you bother her about her animals, in which case she refuses to even listen to your complaints, and never taking any responsibility for the damage done by them.
But I went over to speak to her anyway, and showed her my injured hands and thorn damaged feet, but she just looked at me with her kind of 'oh bugger off!' look, and told me that if I wanted to keep the goats out, I would have to make the fence higher, then offered me a beer, which I declined, and stormed home to sulk!
But she must have thought about it this time, as I told her that I would shoot the stinky Randy if he ever jumped over the fence again, for early the next day a grumbling Bush came passed my house leading Randy on a rope, with the other goats following. I think poor Bush's dignity was a bitty tattered, as he did not look happy at all walking through the streets of Haarlem with such a rancid smelling billy goat on tow, and knowing the villager's quite sick humour, I sympathised with the poor guy.
But Randy must have reeked havock where he was put during the day, as about a week later he was back in his usual camp, but this time he had a leash around his neck, and was tied to a pole with a long rope so that he was free to graze, but unable to jump the fence! I don't think he had any grudges against me, as every time he saw me his tail would start wagging furiously!
My plums were now left in peace and soon ripened into lush, plump, juicy fruit, and I made lots of jams.
The peacocks were a bitty confused, as I don't think that their small brains could understand what happened to make their juicy strawberries disappear so suddenly, and every morning at about two I was rudely plucked from my world of dreams when they flew onto my roof from where they sat telling the world about their woes. It was not good for the nervous system, as they had the most savagy screams that almost made my bally heart stopped when they started with their early morning complaints!I was very happy with the fact that they were too stupid to work out that the strawberries were inside the many white bundles amongst the strawberry plants!
At Irma's place some kind of calm had dawned again after the episode in which Tembi had eaten up the swallows, but the poor dog, who had up to now enjoyed the freedom of the house, was banned from roaming freely , and had to spend her days sleeping on a rug on the stoep, and at night she was allowed to sleep on her pillow in the kitchen. The reason was not only because of eating up the birds, but Tembi had a fettish for rolling in anything that stank, and as she had such a long and thick coat, she usually smelled fit to make us wretch. When Irma was very busy with her painting, it was not always possible to give the dog a bath when she came back from her roamings smelling like a sewerage dump!

Stinky Goats

The covers I tied around the strawberries helped tremendously, and I could at last enjoy them, some for breakfast, and some nights I had strawberries and cream. But in my veggie garden only the tamatoes were thriving so well that I made chutneys and jams, and a lot of pastas. I don't know if tamato jam are eaten in many places, but my Danish daughter in law Nina, after tasting it once, could eat a whole bottle on fresh warm bread.
I also cooked tamato jam in Scotland once when for some reason the weekly lot went too soft for salad. Theresa, the housekeeper of the hotel tried to convince me that I was making chutney when I told her what I was doing, not believing that jam to eat on one's bread could actually be cooked using tamatoes. She wanted a taste later when it was finished, and was so impressed with the taste that she just had to have a piece (sandwich) with the jam every now and then.
The fruit trees were again laden with small fruit, and I was very impressed with my plum trees, as they were carrying a bumper crop. The only fly in the ointment was Sheila's bally goat called Randy! Now Randy was the biggest, and maybe the smelliest ram I ever saw as I could smell him from far away, specially when the wind blew in my way. Randy was actually a very peace loving goat, and it was  rediculously cute when his tail started wagging like that of a puppy dog whenever he saw me, but he was also the naughtiest goat, as he could easily jump over the fence, and I don't believe that there is another animal on this earth that can reek more havock than a goat. Thus it was that my poor feet were all cut and full of thorns, as about ten times a day Randy would tresspass, and as I hardly ever wear shoes in the house, I would give an angry whoop and storm over the field barefoot, gathering stones as far as I went, shouting down the wrath of all the many gods on the bally goat! Usually he got the message when he saw me coming, and would effortlessly jump back over the fence, and I would tell him in a far from nice way to stay out or be killed!
Thus was my relationship with Randy until one beautiful, sunny morning. I was fixing a deadly mixture of garlic, marigolds and brandrissies (chillies)to spray the ripening fruit, when the sound of branches breaking came to my ears, and I just knew that Randy was tearing down the plum trees, so I dropped everything and ran! Usually the bally goat was scared off when he saw me coming, but I think that the lure of the half ripe plums made him reckless, and he just stood staring at me, then decided that he was not going to miss his lovely treat, and to my horror the bally thing came for me, horns pushed forward in a threatening way!
I am no coward, but that goat's horns were pretty sharp, so I took to my heels, ignoring my poor complaining feet, and made for the clump of Black Wattle trees on the opposite side, thinking that maybe I could climb one, and so escape being pierced by Randy's horns! I have forgotten one thing in my quest for survival, and that is that I was not the tomboy of many years ago, and that climbing a tree at the gallop was NOT for the aged!
So, with Randy at my heels I ran through the trees, grabbing the rough branches to swing myself out of the goat's way, and after a while my hands were bleeding, and I started having visions of a small notice in the local paper telling the district about the poor woman that was  killed  by a goat!
Then I saw a nice piece of plastic irrigation piping some way off, and with an inhuman effort I legged it over the sharp rocks, grabbed it up, and faced the goat! Bally coward that he was, he stopped in his tracks on seeing my weapon that I was swinging so fast it was making a whirring sound, and legged it back to the fence where he almost strangled himself in his haste to get back over!
I was very angry, and decided to talk to Sheila about the case, as the previous year her goats had also given me a lot of trouble when the fruit started ripening, and if you tend the trees so lovingly to carry good and healthy fruit, it is not nice if a lot of stinky goats gets the best of it!

y

Bush, the Zimbabwean man living some way up the road across from me, had again started to work for Sheila, as he had been to Zimbabwe, and stayed away so long that Ronalee had taken on another gardener. He came to say hi when he returned, and announced that because he could not see the reason for planting flowers, as he had to do at Ronalee's, he was happy to be back at Sheila, where he tended the animals, and worked in the veggie garden.
Anyway, he had decided to resume his driving lessons. When he just bought the car it was in quite a good condition, but on his first lesson with Sheila he drove it into a ditch up the road, and I was indeed very glad that I had refused the honour of teaching him when I saw him and Sheila came walking back, both looking quite upheaveled, with Sheila's face as white as a sheet!
After coming back from Zimbabwe, the car was fetched by what looked to me like a fly in the night mechanic from Uniondale, who struggled for ages to get Bush's car out of my yard and onto the road. The drive up to the gate is very steep, making a kind of boggle at the gate, and I told the guy, who was a very arrogant young black, that he had to take the car out at an angle, otherwise the underside would stuck, but did he listen? NO!
He drove into my place well enough, as his truck was quite high, connected the two vehicles with a tattered looking rope, and put his foot down heavily on the petrol pedal. Bush's car jumped like a scared horse on the bolt, then steadied, and followed the racing truck, but came to a grinding halt as it's underside struck the boggle! I stood at the window and watched, and had a hearty laugh as the guy got out of the truck to see what was on the go, and his furtive look at my house when he realized that the car was see-sawing over the boggle. Bush, who had been watching this farce with his usual friendly face, did not look very happy anymore with his mechanic who tried everything to get the car off the boggle and moving, and was perspiring fiercely, and I saw him talk to the man, then disappeared up the road.
After a while he came back with five guys, all of them highly intoxicated, faces vague, legs like match sticks, and toothless smiles, and the young mechanic looked at this lot with disbelieve, and had a serious discussion with Bush, supposedly about the ability of his helpers. Of course most of the village men were at work on the apple farms, and only the drunkards and elderly were at home!
So, with the mechanic behind the wheel of the truck, Bush and his motly lot at the ready to heave and push, operation rescue began, but as the helpers had absolutely no sense of the whole situation, and could hardly keep upright, the effort had to be abandoned, and when I saw poor Bush standing forlornly with his face all puckered up, I took my spade to them and suggested that it might help to take the soil out  to flatten the the boggle, at which the mechanic, who saw his dignity taking a dip, gave me a look of disgust, and told Bush that no, he will try again pulling out the car! But Bush could see my logic, grabbed the spade and started digging, at which the helpers, all of them now very, very scared that Bush would call on them to do the hard work, disappeared down the road on their wobbly legs.
Bush worked like maniac, and before long the mound was flattened, and the last I saw of this episode was Bush behind the wheel of his car, eyes like saucers, as the young mechanic, his dignity as flat as the mound by now, roared passed my house, not deeming it neccesarry to look up and greet. The picture is of Bush's house.

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The Kuk-kuks learned very quickly that it was not safe to enter through my gates, as my catapult lay on the ready just inside my front door, and I was becoming most proficient in shooting with it. The red chickens were not such a bother, as their feet were a lot daintier than that of the Kuk-kuks, and they were not such vigorous worm hunters, and had a lot more respect for other people's property!

There was two Kuk-kuks that were I think banned from the tribe, and at first they tried to befriend the reds, but were thoroughly and quickly shown that they also were not welcome there, so the poor things started roaming outside the confines of Jan's property, as the other groups, both the reds and the Kuk-kuks just did not want them. I was quite aghast at the viciousness of the chickens, and just looked on with sympathy, when the lot grew into puberty and then into grown-ups, as the strongest cocks started harassing the more timid ones whenever they went near the hens.There were a few hens amongst the reds, and with all the males around, the children's yard became a war zone, with fights breaking out all the time, sometimes ending in bloodcovered and bedraggled looking chickens.Jan then decided to keep the diffirent clans in seperate coops, but had to let the two outcasts out after a few minutes only!
The two males that were banned from the flock became quite close, and were rummaging further and further away from the homestead, and always together. At night the pair would fly onto the outside fence and sat sleeping there, close together, clucking nervously.It was heartbreaking to watch them as they had developed a kind of cautious way to move around, stretching their necks to look around every corner or obstacle to suss out the lay of things, eyes always on the coops where the others were NOT always living in peace.
In the meantime the two swallows that survived the cats, dogs and other predators had grown into beautifully sleek youngsters, and Irma let them loose in the house more and more so that they could learn to fly. She put the box on the cupboard so that they could practice jumping out, like they would do in the wilds. While the door was locked to keep the animals out, Hendrix would just take it in his stride, as he had no wish to have a taste of the babies, but the ugly Tembi would sit on the stoep licking her lips, black eyes fixed on the door in the hope that she would get a chance for a lovely titbit.
Then disaster struck, and that was almost the end of Tembi!
Irma had to go to George as Tembi had to go to the vet, and she had also to deliver some paintings to the decorators, and she could not leave the birds alone at home, as they still needed constant feeding. So the whole lot was loaded into the Vitara, the box with the swallows securely closed on the back seat, and Tembi on her pillow behind the seat where she would be away from the young birds.
All went according to plan until Irma had to deliver the paintings. She was away for longer than she wanted, as she got some more work to do, and when she got back, the first thing she saw was Tembi's head, and something about the dog's face looked very strange, so she hurried to the car, a horrible suspicion in her mind!
The car was covered in feathers, and on the back seat was Tembi, one of the babies hanging from her mouth, and when she saw Irma, she tried to hide beneath the seat, but Irma grabbed her and shook her until the bird fell from her jaws! Of the other little Swallow there was nothing left but a few feathers, and Irma swore to kill the dog when they got home! It was so sad, as we all had helped to feed the birds when they were only tiny and helpless, and for them to die in such a way was just too terrible!

I was in a really bad place, quite depressed, and very, very upset! At first it was the snails that ate up my strawberries and veggies, then Sheila's bally peacocks joined in, and as if that was not enough to make my face as long as the roads between the Karoo towns, the moles came.

I had by now tried everything, from moth balls to dog poo, and cat littered sand, and now the children's chickens had found their way into my garden, and the Kuk-kuks with their huge clawed feet just scratched out any little plant that had escaped the mole's corridors.

So one morning, after first almost tearing out my hair when I found that the peacoks had been in again during the night, and there were no almost ripe strawberries left, and the few baby marows that had miraculously survived the onslaught of the snails, had all disappeared, I knew I had to take drastic action!

Must say, did NOT know that some of the words I used was in my vocabulary, but I called down the wrath of all gods onto my persecuters, or rather the persecuters of my garden

Somebody up or around me must have taken pity on me, as a very bright idea suddenly popped into my stressed brain, and I ran for my material box, where I scratched around feverishly for some calico. Now followed some backbreaking work, as I tied a piece of calico around a few strawberries that I gathered together untill my whole patch was covered, looking very strange, but I had high hopes that at least no snail would get into my covers, and I prayed that the peacocks would not realize the fact that their nightly treats were inside the calico.
But as I was so stressed out about the peacocks, and not knowing if they would realize that I was trying to fool them, I decided to gather some stones and lie in wait for them, but had a little snooze till two am, and when my alarm went off, I sneaked outside, my catapult ready for war!
They came at about three, first flying onto my roof to check out whether it was safe for them to raid my garden, and then they flew down, but they must have been utterly confused by the calico bundles, as they just strutted around, making funny noises, and that was when I decided to strike! I carefully put a nice round stone into my catapult, took aim at the biggest peacock that was strutting about with his beautiful tail all spread out, I suppose to show his disgust, and let rip! It was a kolskoot (in the spot), and this cock gave one terrifying scream before he took off with wings flapping feverishly, with the other lot hot on his heels.
My kids were of course in stitches about my calico covers, but the snails were now baffled and could not reach them, and the peacocks had such a fright that they stayed away for a while, so for about a week I had strawberries ripening in peace, and I at least had that from all my hard work!

The swallow babies grew fast, and within a couple of weeks they started to loose their creature from another planet look, that is, if you managed to see them for their always open mouths that were just about as big as their bodies. Hendrix loved to sit watching them, and if he also had intentions of making a meal of the babies, he never showed it, just looked at them with his honey brown eyes full of love.
One morning Irma could be heard for miles around, shouting abuse at all bird eating creatures, as through the night, one of the babies had disappeared, and this time Tembi was exonerated, as the box was put high up on a cupboard for the night. The culprit could only have been Nina's cat, as he was found sleeping contentedly in the sun, licking his lips unconciously, and that was proof to Irma that he had stolen the swallow from the box.
From then on the birds were put in a bigger box, Irma having stalked up to the small shop to get one, and after she had made some holes in it, the swallows were deposited inside, and the lid properly secured. But soon they were getting feathered, and started to move around, so Irma locked the lip licking Tembi out, and gave the birds a chance to walk around a bit, and it was so cute when the started excercising their wings, flapping vigorously, and in the process falling over, then struggling to get up, looking all ruffled up.
I was busy working in my front garden one morning, watching the small honeybirds sucking out the nectar from the flowers, and the bees buzzing around collecting nectar, when there was a commotion at the house up one street, on the corner opposite me. I was quite startled when I heard a lot of different voices yelling, and a car revving fit to take off into the sky, so I hurried to the fence to see what it was all about! An old cream coloured Mercedes was coming down the road at breakneck speed, and I sommer knew that the driver would not be able to get around the corner, so I hastened to get away from the fence in case the car bursted through, then stood wide eyed as it came to a standstill against a telephone pole, where it stood spitting out huge gulps of steam.
Behind the wheel sat the wife of the mechanic from whose house the car took off, and she was shaking like a jelly, her eyes like saucers! The mechanic, a small, elderly man who was so bent that his nose almost touched his knees, and his backside pinched and pushed forward so much that he looked to be doing a wee all the time, came limping down the road, cigarette dangling from his fingers, and hair resembling a hedgehog!
Apparantly she had just to sit in the car and let out the clutch while he pushed to get it started, then stopped, but she got nervous and couldn't find the brakes. Poor man, I think it cost him a lot to fix that car, that had not a lot wrong with it in the first place!

Irma was very upset when she opened a window facing the road that she had never used before, and knocked a swallow nest with three babies off the wall just beneathe the window, and as my lot are all animal crazy, she decided to nurse the wee birds herself, and so started a few hectic weeks for me as well, as Irma had to go to George quite a lot to take paintings, when she would bring the three ugly little things for me to look after.
She had the brilliant plan to boil spaghetti, cover it with raw egg, and feed it to the Swallow babies, as all other efforts failed, except when she found some worms, and that was not too easy.The babies loved the spaghetti, and thrived! But as they were just about hungry all the time, it was a fulltime job nursing them.
Tembi, the ugly little mongrel, could not resist sniffing the babies, a look of hungry anticipation on her face, and we were sure that she would feast on the birds if given half a chance, so I could hear poor Tembi's name being screamed out a dozen times a day, as she would try her luck all the time.
Tembi was found of course by my granddaughter Kristani, who it seems has a visor pulling her to all abandoned and mistreated animals, and their house always, or most of the time resembled an animal hospital.
Tembi was by far the ugliest dog I have ever seen, pitch black long hair covering her whole body, the front part half rasta, and the other half as fine as silk. She had the biggest teeth you could imagine, and feared nothing, although she was also the smallest dog ever!
As she was so peculiar, and very loving towards the kids, Irma was convinced by them that Tembi would be the next best thing after their birthday presents, so the SPCA was not called in, and Tembi stayed. At that stage Irma was busy seperating from her husband, and money was scarce, and to take the dog to a vet to be fixed was expensive, so a plan had to be deviced to have the operation done by the SPCA. In South Africa you have to be really poor before the SPCA will do the operation, so the help of Elizabeth, Irma's househelp for many years were called in, and it was decided that she would take the dog in, and say that it was hers.
All well and good, and early on the appointed morning we all got into Irma's car, but when we stopped in front of the animal hospital, Kristani clung to Tembi, crying and stating that nobody would take her dog away. After a lot of cajoling she allowed Elizabeth to take the dog, but she did not get far before a thin wail suddenly cleft the air! 'My diertjie, my diertjie!" Kristani wailed, and Irma was so nervous that she gave the child a good and solid pinch, after which she stopped calling for her little animal, and cried because her mum pinched her! 'My diertjie' means means my little animal in Afrikaans. Luckily the noise of the traffic drowned the wails, and Elizabeth came back with a huge smile, stating that Tembi would be done that same day, and she could get her in the morning.
Anyhow, the Swallow babies thrived , and Tembi's lust increased, leaving Irma exhausted in her attempts to guard them.

pests and chickens

By now I had a full blown war against the moles that absolutely ruined everything I was brave enough to plant. Even the strawberries were beginning to struggle, but as their roots are not very deep, they at least did not wither, and every morning I put on my water boots and stamped the soil fast.
I got tips on how to kill the moles from everywhere, and tried them all. One of the most gory was to collect dog poo and stuff it down the holes, but me not having the strongest stomach, it was hard really hard going.  But the planting season was almost over, and I was desperate, so I covered my nose with a scarf, my hands with plastic bags, and commenced on operation dog poo.
I never had a strong stomach, and in my long ago youth I dreamt to be a nurse, and did indeed start on a course at the Pretoria General hospital, and loved everything, but when I was expected to clean up anything that smelled, I had to run for the toilet! I did stick it out for a year, and now that I am older and wiser, I knew that I would have eventually got over that shortcoming, and  as I would not have been a junior my whole life, the stinky tasks would eventually have dried up, and my juniors would have done that.
But for now I was retching away every morning collecting Laika, the kids's old dog's poo, and it did Not smell good, but I stuck to it, hoping that the moles would depart out of their own free will, or suffocate. They did neither, just made new tunnels, and it was so bad that the ground was spungy to walk on.
Then I tried drowning them, and stuck the hosepipe down the holes that opened above ground underneath stones and stuff, and they indeed hid somewhere else for a few days, and I yelled halleluja, and smiled again, and started preparing my veggie patch for the third time.
But when I started planting the new seedlings, I found that the little devils had again criss -crossed my patch, and a big heavy hatred took hold of my usually contented soul!
Then somebody told me to stick moth balls down the passages, and I raced to my co-op to buy some, a hunger for revenge nibbling away my serenity, and that afternoon I was furiously stalking around trying to find all the entrances. It was quite difficult to find the entrances, as unlike the real moles, this little creeper moles did not leave mole hills behind, and I did not want to leave them any escape roots.
After a few days there was no sign of the moles, so I again planted the seedlings that I could, as it was now too late for some of them.

The chickens grew fast and furiously, the Kuk-kuks looking like young ostriches, and the red ones that they had bought later not far behind. They all looked like hens, but as they grew and grew, we realized that there was only one small hen between the lot.
I have never seen such big claws on a chicken, that is the Kuk-kuks of course, and they were quite a ferrocious lot, chasing the few red cocks all over the place, while, as the cocks grew into manhood, the little hen, whom the kids called Kleintjie ( little one) had to really duck and dive to evade the attentions of the hormone driven males.Then the cocks started on their crowing practising, and as they were really, in my eyes, a stupid lot of overgrown muscle men, they had no bally idea of when it was morning, and when it was time to go to sleep. So, two o'clock am, a lot would start making this croaky, wheezy noises that I'm sure were supposed to be manly crowing, but had us all shouting abuse at them in our sleepy voices, that did not stay sleepy, but ended up in good and solid yelling and not too nice language. What made it worse was that this lot woke up the whole neigborhood's macho males, who tried their best to show the youngsters how to do the thing!
Soon the age old segregation thing stuck out it's neck, and the poor reds were chased off the premises, and had to be very lightfooted to evade the attacks of the Kuk-kuks, who really kicked them into a bloody mess, and just would not allow them near the coop. The poor Kleintjie was looking like a little ghost from trying to outrun the lusty males, so she was put in a different coop to first grow up a bit more, and a few more red hens were incorperated.
The dog Bubby was now fully grown, and I could not get rid of my fear for him, although the children tried to asssure me that he was not dangerous at all, but as I have seen him now on two occasions going for Nina, and then he had a go at Jan, I could not be satisfied.
Then one afternoon I was busy in my room when I heard this commotion at the Kid's place, and then the car starting, then reversed out into the road at breakneck speed. I tried to make out what was going on, but before I could get out of my gate Jan pulled away, scattering stones and dust, and disappeared doen the road.
They phoned me after a while to tell me that the dog had attacked the seven year old Andreas without any provocation, and they were on their way to the hospital.
All of us was in a state of panic, fearing the dog, but the next day Jan took him to the vet to be put down, and they all cried for their lost pet that was in my eyes no pet at all. Luckily most of the bites were on the child's hand and arms, but as it could have been so much worse.

Back to my homestead in South Africa.
It was becoming quite a struggle to keep relations between Skramunkel and Nina on good footing, but it was wonderful to watch the horse kind of amble up to the fence, then as inconspiciously as possible try different angles with her head to try and get it through the chicken wire fence, and when she was lucky enough to find a small hole, she would grasp a big mouthful of Nina's veggies, close her eyes in utter delight an chew with such utter content, that I felt like taking a mouthful as well.
But I could not leave her to destroy the children's garden, so I kept her mostly in the camp on my side. My roses of course was another of Skramunkel's delicasies, and she would just wait until a rose is fully opened, then she would pull her mouth in a classic Angelina Jolie pout, and pluck the rose neatly from the bush.
By now another evil destroyer of my peace and tranquility had made it's appearance on the scene! I had taken so much care in preparing my veggie patches, and after nursing my seedlings to the stage where they could be planted out, I was very excited when at last they were all in the ground, standing up and looking very strong and healthy.
About a week after planting out the seedlings, I went to water them one morning very early, but to my astonishment found all of my beautiful plants lying limp and flat on the ground. I was in tears, but also very non- plussed, as there was not a mark or any sign of worms or other insects having filled up their tummies through the night. However, when I looked for the cause, I found that all the soil was taken away beneath the plants, leaving a lot of tunnels running criss-cross where my lovely veggies should have been growing strongly.
I immediately thought that it was moles, but there was no molehills anywhere, and that was quite strange, so I hopped into the little Sparkie and raced down to the co-op for assistence in this time of bally stress! My trusted guy there laughed when I told him about this strange phenomenon, stating that it seemed like my pests were nothing less than an army of cricket moles, a small mole that eats the earthworms that kept the soil aired and healthy, but he assured me that the stuff he would give me was quite efficient, and that within three days the poisonous substances would disappear. I was desperate, so I chose to believe him, as he had never let me buy anything harmfull or unneccessary.
This stuff was very poisonous to start off, that had to be pushed into the tunnels, and then watered. All this had to be done with heavy precaution, and also with a mask, as the fumes caused heavy hayfever, according to the co-op guy.
It did NOT help! The moles hid somewhere untill the fumes abated, while I thought they had all expired, and bought some more seedlings, planting them with a wee bit of concern, and they indeed grew to quite strong plants before one morning I found them all quite ruined again!
I was devastated, as the snails had also arrived from the strawberry patches that I now guarded with vicious intent to kill them all!

After a thirty six hour ordeal I landed on Brussels airport to visit with Irma, Karel and Kiana who are now living in Belgium.
It was the most horrendous thirty six hours of my life, as, when we got to the Cape Town airport for our flight first to Johannesburg, to get our flight to Abu Dhabi, and from there to Brussels, we were informed that our flight was delayed. The 'we' being Trienkie my youngest, whose husband and his parents were babysitting for her, and self, and we were quite okay, as at first the flight was only delayed for half an hour, but as the time went on, the half an hour stretched to two, and then two and a half, and we were in a frenzy, as we would miss our international flight if there were any more delays.To make things worse, Trienkie is a bally stress ball, and tore my nerves into shreds, so we almost attacked the guy concerned with solving problems when he told us that this specific airline was a point to point carrier, and they could do nothing about our dilemma. But we were delayed in the end for three hours, and were in reasonable time for our flight from Johannesburg.
We got to Abu Dhabi at about six, just to be told that our flight to Brussels have been delayed for six hours! Nearly expired, as sleeping in an aircraft is not easy for me, and now we would get to brussels at about eight that evening.
I left my house with quite a bit of uncertainty, as I had surprised a couple of thieves about three weeks before I left. Jan was in Cape Town one weekend, and I was in Uniondale till about seven, and was a bit scared as it was to park the car and lock the gates.
Jan's cat was meeauing terribly, and I decided to go over to his house to feed it. As I passed the double doors at the veranda, it struck me that something was very wrong, but it was quite dark, so I looked around, and found that the double doors were broken out of the wall, but I was so surprised that it did not get through to me, and as the cat was frenzied, I fed it. Then I heard the back gate open, and the danger that I was in struck me, as nobody would hear me scream if I was attacked so I legged it at amazing speed back to my house where I phoned my neighbour and the police.
The police at our station could not be reached so Gary, my neighbour phoned the patrol police, who looked all over, but the culprits had gone through the river and disappeared. Luckily they did not have enough time to strip the house like they did over the Easter weekend, but they got away with Jan's very expensive bicycle, but this was found two days later at the river by some children playing there.
I am getting a bitty scared to be alone now, as Jan goes to Cape Town a lot, but I will just have to strengthen my security bars. Bally nuisance!
But I have looked forward to visiting my kids, so I will put all my fears and worries on ice, and enjoy my time in Belgium.

It was a busy time for me, as I had to clear the overgrown veggie patches, and also the poor strawberries that were struggling to get their faces to the sun. I also had to prune my rose bushes, as they should have been pruned in August already and looked a wee bit bedraggled.
I was now really scared at Bubby the dog, as he was growling more and more at anybody who came too near to him, but Nina laughed it off as just a puppy's whims, but when I went over there one day, and he wanted to come out through the gate with me, I had the fright of my life. I was trying to hold him back with my leg while I closed the gate, when he suddenly pulled back his lips and stormed my leg, with intent to bite! I screamed at him and managed to get my leg out of the way of his teeth, but he stood glaring and growling at me until I went into my house! I was now too scared to almost go into the children's yard, but I soon found that ignoring the dog was the best, but still rang the bell at their gate for one of them to come and fetch me.
The vine that I had planted the previous year was growing like something demented, and had now sent it's ramblers out in all directions. In about two weeks time I saw this tiny bunches with teeny green grapes hanging from my fast growing vine, and counted seventeen of them.
One day, as I walked passed the vine to get to the shower, I noticed that all the tiny grapes were covered with a fuzz, and as I was already struggling with the snails and the peacocks again, I did not need another pesty invader to destroy my grapes as well. So grumbling and hissing like a ready to explode pressure cooker, I mixed together everything that I could think of that will destroy the aphids, or whatever it was. My concoction consisted of dishwashing soap, and chilly powder, and spray that is used on the fruit trees, and bicarbonate of soda, and too many others that I have forgotten, and I then soaked every small bunch of grapes in this witches's brew.
After two days I sprayed the grapes again, but when the fuzz did not fall off showing that the beasties was dying from my concoction, I went to the co-op, and they gave me a spray to use, guarenteed, the man said, to kill any kind of aphid!
So I went home and sprayed the whole vine with this concoction, then decided to get my glasses to see exactly what the fuzzy creatures looked like, as I could not describe them earlier to the co-op man, not having used my glasses before.
Well, never had I been so staggered in my life, and there I was thinking that my eyesight was still almost perfect, because the fuzzy beasties on my tiny grapes was nothing but little flowers! Yes, little tiny bally flowers! I have never looked at a grape vine so closely when the bunches just started, so I had always thought that the grapes develop straight away and that when the little bunches appear, the grapes were already formed. Must say, did feel a teeny bit foolish, as I had alerted everyone with vines about this pest, and they were all spraying like mad!
I then hoped that I did not kill off the whole lot with my manhandling, but in another week, as I now looked at them through my glasses, I saw the tiniest of grapes forming where the flowers had fallen off! Very GLAD!
At first I decided not to tell my neighbours about my little boo-boo, but when Jan one day stood spraying their grapes again, I thought it prudent to tell him, and soon it was all over the valley, and luckily everybody just laughed about it!

The Kuk-kuks that my kids got from this farm who reckoned that the batch of chicks they had sold to them would yield at least fifty persent of hens had their calculations quite wrong, as all but one of them turned out to be cocks. So the had gotten some grown hens, a kind of reddish breed, don't know what, and all was good for a while at the du Preez homestead.
In the meantime Bubby, the Boerboel dog had grown to immense size, and was growling at everything that came close to him and his food. I noticed once when Nina wanted to get him back into their yard enclosure that he growled at her, and a kind of anxiety took hold of me, but Nina just laughed it off. I was later too scared to go to their house, as this monster would sit and glare at me, growling softly, and I always felt extremely vulnerable. But if I spoke about it they were very nonchalant about it, and my concerns were made off as lightly as they could, and I started feeling like a real old worry pot, so I kept my fears to myself.
While I was in Scotland Karel had moved to South Africa, and as he is a sculptor, he was sure that he could make a living here. Irma was still doing paintings for the interior decorators, who were doing a big new hotel in Mauritius, but her working brought the first dark cloud onto her and Nina's horison. As the paintings Irma had to make was large, and there was a lot of them, she worked on the veranda, sometimes taking up some of Nina's space, and Nina moaned that Andreas couldn't ride his tricycle when she worked.
She then tried to work on the grass under the Pepper tree, but all the small seeds dropped onto the paintings, and then Bubby decided to walk over it, smearing the wet paint all over the place.As she was also very scared of Bubby, she asked Jan to keep him in the house when the children were outside, as he just did not like kids.
Relations deteriorated to a point where Irma moved away to Avontuur where she had a wonderful space to work, and Karel had a huge workshop.Where I had to in the past just had to cope with the peacocks and snails, I now had another pest in the form of the Kuk-kuks, who had the biggest bally feet I have ever seen on a chicken, and scratched so violently that they could ruin a flowerbed in a few seconds, and I feared for my garden once I started planting.
Skramunkel was now a bit out of hand, and I had to take a stick with me when I went to feed her, as she was quite scared of that, and as long as I had the stick, I could go in and put her feed in the bucket. It was now very dry, the rain just staying away, but I bought food, and also got hold of some lucern. But she slowly got to know me again, and after a week I was allowed into her camp without her trying to run me down.

I was again very sad when I saw the swallows gathering in huge flocks, and the Rowans starting to show off the lovely red berries, as I knew that my departure was not far away. I just loved Scotland, the freedom  to roam where I wanted, and the life so laid back. Of course I worked hard, as otherwise than at home, where a kitchen my size in Scotland would have about between six and ten people scuttling around, in Scotland it was only me and somebody washing up during the week, and over weekends I had an assistent.
The flight home was without incident, except that my tv screen wouldn't work, and after they tried just about anything, they apologized profusely, and left it at that. The next morning one of the hostesses brought the duty free trolley up to me, and said that to make up for the inconvenience of not having a screen, I could choose any perfume up to thirty pounds! What a bargain!
The weather was still not what it should be in Spring, as it was still cold and frosty, but all the same, it was nice to be home and see my kids.
I just sighed on entering my wee croft, as of course the spiders and frogs, and other beasties had taken

over, and it was a bit disconcerting coming from the clean and dustfree hotel. So again I just cleaned my room to sleep that first night, but the smell of amphibians were indeed so strong that I asked Nina for some air freshener spray, and of course that triggered my hayfever, and I had to scratch around like mad for an allergex!
The next day I started cleaning with vigour, and found about six frogs hiding in dark corners, and they were very upset with me trying to shoo them out, they just stared at me with their cold froggy eyes and jumped out of my reach. I have never known that a frog could actually jump so far! Then I got an idea, and left them to go and roost again in their corners, for my plan was to catch them and throw them out.
So armed with a small enamel bucket, I moved the first piece of furniture away and put the bucket over the sleeping frog then a piece of cardboard underneath, and voila, I had one frog which I deposited in a box.
I did that until I hoped that all the bally beasts were caught, so I went down to the river and let them loose on the other side, hoping that they would get lost and find another house!
After some hard slog my house was liveable again, and I turned my eyes to my garden! Oh good heavens, I could hardly see where my veggie beds were it was so overgrown with the Kikuju grass, and I must say, for the first time I was feeling a bitty dejected!
Skramunkel had now become a big horse, but relations between her and Nina had not become more friendly during the months I was away, and they hated each other with a vengeance. Irma and Nina had a lot of words because of the horse, as she was so clever, and could open just about any gate, but Irma refused to believe that, as she had on different occasions saw the gate being left open by the kids when they went down to the river. Jan and Nina's veggie garden was still a delightful source of titbits to the horse!
Irma had decided that she would not like to live in Belgium, so Karel was moving to South Africa permanently, and I was understandibly very glad, as I had one child away for twelve years, and did not like to lose another one.
Jan and Nina had also got a new dog, one of the most dangerous breeds, named Bubby, and from the beginning I did not trust him, as although he was still only a pup, he had a very challenging look in his eyes!
Hendrix had now moved back permanently to Irma.