As there was a lot of small tadpoles in my pond, I took on the messy task of emptying the water out, and take the tadpoles down to the river and release them into the slow flowing water, and hopefully they would flow down to other more frog friendly waters! I was a wreck, and my back was aching from moving the furniture every day to get the frogs out.
In the meantime, between Jan running the streets of Haarlem trying to catch Moby, as he was really I think, better at escaping than the great houdini, and some backbreaking work, he had finished his bio gas plant, and he and Nina set out for George to buy a cooker that was suitable for using with the bio gas, as it can't be connected to all appliances. He bought a two plate cooking thing, and Andreas was absolutely fascinated with thing that could actually make flames, and that from kitchen waste!
It was a great occasion when Jan turned open the gas for the first time, and we all stood with bated breaths, waiting for the first flame to ignite. It was just so good, as from now on Jan and family would be quite self sufficient, as they already had a solar geezer, and as he was going to install gas lighting as well, they only needed electricity for their television and washing machine.
But to get the gas plant to start producing, it had to be fed well and good first, and as the waste from the house was not enough yet, Jan had to make another plan.
As there was a lot of cow manure along the roads, the cows of course making their rounds every day, grazing and lounging, Jan thought it an excellent way of getting food for the bio gas thing, and it was so funny to see my lanky ex-city dwelling son walk up and down with the wheelbarrow, collecting the steaming dung. What was amazing was that he actually did it, as he did not have a strong stomach, and as he always had to pick up the dog poo as a child, and did that with about three plastic bags fastened tightly over his hands and arms, and wretching all the time, I found it so funny and also endearing!
But after a week or so of feeding this monster every scrap of left-over food, also from my kitchen, the bag started swelling, and we all became like children in our excitement. It was indeed like a miracle when the first gas started hissing out of the stoveplates's wee holes!They were also getting a gas fridge and freezer that they were having adjusted to work on the gas.
The fruit was now coming on beautifully, and the small tree that I had planted a couple of years back was loaded, and I even had to remove some of the fruit when the branches got so heavy that it started hanging on the ground. I again mixed my muti of chilly, garlic and marigold flowers, as the previous year that lethally stinky mixture had proved quite adequate to keep the fruit fly away from my precious fruit!

The frogs were back, Lelie was smiling again because her friends were back, and I was sleepwalking! Even though I now try and keep the havock making amphibians from coming into my house, I couldn't keep the doors closed the whole day, as with the small windows, the house was quite dark. I was at the end of my tether, as the midnight frollicks of Lelie, and the nervous quaaking of her friends was just not good for sleeping, or for the nerves. I have come to the conclusion that frogs have well developed navigational systems, as the next weeks I spent a lot of time driving around the area in circles, frogs on the back seat in the box, to try and get them mixed up!I have dropped them close to other houses in a radious of two to four kilometers, but after a few days of bliss and peaceful sleeping, the nighly racket would start again.
One of this mornings, after a long stuggle to get the frogs, who come out the moment I put out my light, to sit under the night light waiting for insects, of which there were a lot, and Lelie at last lying in her bed as calm and innocent as a puppy, I decided to try and sleep a bit later, and so I did, until Lelie started making her wanting to pee noises, and sticking her little nose underneath my door's curtain.
I woke up, lying for a few minutes to clear my fuzzy head, and that it when my poor red, sleep needing eyes caught sight of something black just about two centimeters above my head on the wall, and not taking any time to see what it was, I loped out of the bed in one fantastic jump, ending up almost squashing poor Lelie to a pancake under my feet! I was too scared to look, as the thought of whatever it was, watching me sleep for I don't know how long, was agonizing! I don't mind the beasties in my house, as long as I am aware of where they were, and believe me, there were some horrors!
When at last I had enough courage to have a look, I found a huge rainspider sitting cosily waiting for his prey flying around  my bedlamp, and I sighed a sigh of relieve, as it could easily have been one of the poisonous ones! But I must confess, self did shiver and rattle a bitty while making my tea!
I then went to see what my garden had to offer for breakfast, and on opening some of the calico bags that I tie around the Strawberries to keep the goggas and snails out, I found  enough fruit to cut into my yoghart. Had a feast!It is not every day that I get such a lot of strawberries, but I think the noises coming from my house with Lelie playing with the frogs, kept the Peacocks away, as they had now found out that they could remove my calico pouches, and usually left me something in return by making big poo's all around! I hated them!

The monday night after Stephan and trienkie had left, I woke up at about two in the morning with Lelie going crazy at the front door, barking and trying to scratch a hole into the wood. I was paralyzed with fear, Jan and Nina wasn't home, and Lelie sounded as if there was something really terrifying outside.
I ran to the kitchen and put the kettle on the gas stove to boil water to use as a weapon, and throw it over anybody trying to gain entrance into my house.
Of course the trouble in South Africa is that if burglars do get into your house, chances are that if they find you inside, you will end up dead, and we have a lot of vicious elements even in our little village.I stood trembling like a jelly while waiting for my water to boil, then I poured it into a big jug, and softly creeped from room to room to see if I could see anything, but all was quiet, except for Lelie that was still hysterically barking and hopping around at the front door.
After enduring this nerve wracking situation for a few minutes I felt that if I had to stand at the door waiting for the worst to happen for much longer, I would faint from pure anxiety and stress, so I boiled the water again, and with the jug held at the ready, I unlocked the door and swung it open, knowing that the safety door would protect me from being killed instantly! There was nothing! No burglar with a shiny knife, no animal, nothing, but Lelie was just about mad with excitement, and as I told her to shut up I looked down at something brushing against my foot, just in time to see a big frog  give an emmense leap and disappear into the darkness of my bedroom. Then I noticed that on the step, looking very smug and important, sat about another five frogs, and on Lelie starting to bark excitedly at her waterbowl, I saw one of the lot floating comfortably in her drinking water! I tried to close my door, but was too late, as with huge leaps the whole lot disappeared into the house. I knew why they couldn't get in earlier, as I had put a sausage like sandbag in front of the opening to try and keep any newcomers out!
I was really puzzled, as the frogs that waited for me to open the door seemed to know just where to jump to, and by the time I went after them a few seconds later, they had all disappeared! My dilemma now was, could it be the same lot that I had driven so far away and left close to that house? I just could not believe that a troupe of frogs could make their way home, across the fields for about two kilometers!
I had a funny suspicion that this little monsters had their breeding grounds in my pond!

Lelie and self were getting along fine, and as long as she stayed away from my Strawberries and flowers, I allowed her to roam as she liked. She still thought that the naughty wee cock was her bestest friend, while this cockey little cock was out on one mission only, and that was to steal her food, and he still sneaked through some or other hole in the fence if he thought I was not looking!
Lelie was a bit scared to go out of my fenced off yard, as Moby the bloodhound, if he was close by, was always on the look-out for a playmate, and as he was so big and rough, Lelie usually ended up quite bedraggled, and looked the picture of sorrow as she limped home after some playtime!
Then she discovered the frogs!
I had a constant fight with the local frog community who had decided that my house was just the ideal spot for them to sleep away the hot daylight hours. Many a night I have been frightened out of my brains when one of this housemates gave a hoarse quaack underneath my bed, a wake-up call for the rest of his inmates, and I constantly moved the heavy furniture to fish them out, as they made themselves as flat as pancakes behind the chair legs, or a book case, making the finding quite hard. I usually put them close to the river, hoping that they find their way to a new and friendlier home.
Then Lelie discovered them, as they woke her up one night, and of course she thought they came specially to play with her, and from then on I had almost no sleep at night, as the frogs only wanted to get out through the space underneath the front door. Lelie was like a jack-in-the-box, jumping at the frogs when they leaped up high to escape her attentions, with the result that such a racket was made by Lelie skidding and jumping and barking hysterically, that every bit of sleep evaporated speedily, and after I had opened the door to let the frogs out, and Lelie ran around crazily until they had all disappeared into the bushes, I was ready to commit doggy murder, lying awake wide-eyed.
One morning I was walking around wearied and tired after a hectic night with Lelie and friends, and decided that enough was enough, and, as the frogs made their ways back into my house unseen every day, how I wouldn't know, I was going to gather them all and let them loose close to somebody else's house, far away from my place.
So I got a large cardboard box, and with some gloves I had saved after dying my hair that time when it came out an angry orange, I set out on operation gathering frogs! That was quite a hard task, as I had some heavy furniture, but as the frogs hid behind them in the darkest corners, it had to be done. I was sommer cross on finding the amphibians fast asleep after keeping me from my slumbers the previous night, and they didn't even struggle as I picked them up to put them in my box, just opened their cold eyes and stared at me drowsily for a moment before falling back into their comatose state.
I drove around all over to try and disorientate the frogs, and then, about two kilometers from my own house I spotted a lonely house where I could crawl up to, and let loose my cargo of slumbering frogs! I parked about two hundred meters from this house, and sat for a good five minutes to see if there was someone around, then, with my heart pumping at an extraordinally rate, I set off, folded almost double, to let loose my friends as close to the house as possible!Nobody was around, and as there was no smoke coming from the chimney, I crawled onwards till about twenty meters away before I opened the lid of the mandjie and deposited the sleeping lot on a piece of green grass underneath a tree. They were so fast asleep that they hardly lifted an eyelid, so I bid them a good day's sleep, and crawled back to my car! That night I slept like a log!
But when Stephan and Trienkie came to visit that week-end, Lelie found a wonderful new friend n the young Kian, my grandson, and the two played together till sleep time.

Irma's wedding dress was coming along fine, but this child of mine is really a strange cookie, as she would never ever be satisfied with anything that did not meet her requirements, and would easily stay without than take second best
I made the skirt in calico first, and after a lot of fittings, she was satisfied, and I could commence with the sewing of the real thing. The skirt had panels from a kind of brocade, with insets of a soft and sheer kind of  swirly voily material that would peep out when she moved, and the top was black, and tight fitting, but as I just did not have the skills to make the thing she wanted, it was decided that we would look for one in the shops in Capetown.
In the end, with a very enthusiastic Rico, who is Irma's partner in music, playing the piano and also a wonderful stage personality, and Karel, less enthusiastic, but willing, trotted the streets of the old part of Capetown looking for a lingery shop that Irma found on the internet, and who sold the exact thing that she wanted. A kind of borstrok as it was called by the oldies in my family.
As Irma wanted a Celtic wedding, their local predikant (preacher) and a good friend was asked to do the ceremony, and I was quite surprised when he agreed to do it, as the people in Joubrtina where he was the predikant of the Dutch Reformed church, were very narrow minded when it came to their church and their Christianity,
I was busy sewing the wedding dress when I heard such a bellow from the kids's house as to make my hair stand on end, and thinking that a murder was being committed, I legged it over the other side, to find Nina with a face swolen and red, and furious! She stood shouting at something or somebody, and when I saw the overgrown Moby cowering behind a rosebush, very unlike himself, I knew that he must have again chewed up either a school shoe, or her handbag, or Jan's papers, but I have never seen her this bad!
When I got closer I had to give a gasp, as in her hands were two chewed up things, resembling shoes, but shoes that had gone through a mill, and by the colour of them I recognised the Doc Martins boots that had come via the post the day before, and which had cost her a fortune! It was a disaster, as Nina swore to kill the monster, and the poor monster, now very sorry for being so naughty, was now trying his best to ingratiate himself by crawling around on his tummy, and when he jumped up against the irate Nina and tried to lick her face, she bellowed so loud for him to get off, that he crawled to the far end of the garden where he lay as quiet as a mouse for the rest of the day.
Poor Nina was absolutely shattered, as her old pair of Doc Martins had seen their best days after about ten years, and she was so looking forward to the arrival of this pair. Moby, who was allowed to sleep inside when he was home, as the nights were quite chilly, was banned to the veranda, where the first night he put up such a sorrowful performance of the neglected pet, that none of us could sleep. But the veranda where he was to sleep was covered, so he had nothing to squeal about, and only himself to blame!

My visit is fast running out, but knowing that I would be going back to spring, it was not so bad. Our hands are beginning to show some improvement from the stains caused by the walnuts, but we had now, after another couple of hours, a few kilos of wonderful nuts to show.
Back home all was well, except that my garden was again overgrown with the horrible Kikuju grass that just strangles everything in its way. I think it was originally planted for the cattle to graze on, but the cattle do not like it, although if nothing else was available they did chew on it, albeit a bitty longfaced! The horses did not even touch it, so I came to the conclusion that it could not be very tasty!Well, let us say none of the cattle or horses liked it, except Sheila's cows, who just about munched away on anything that came their way.
It was going to be hard saying goodbye to my kids, and still harder, but in another way, to their friends and family. In South Africa we don't kiss every time we see somebody, and we also only kiss family and maybe close friends, and as we kiss on the mouth, it is to my way a good thing that kissing is limited. In Europe though, the people kiss all the time, sometimes one kiss on the cheek, other times three kisses on the cheeks, and that is where the whole kissing game started haunting me, as I never knew when to turn another cheek, and when not. To make matters worse, every time someone wanted to give me a kiss I almost de-nosed them, and gave them a good old head smack, as try as I liked, there was always a collision that left me with a red nose or a sore head. This was going on until Irma asked me why I was looking so stiff and reluctant to greet people, stating that every time some greeting was needed, my arms lifted like a bird of prey prancing in front of its catch of the day, my fingers kind of wriggling nervously! I told her my sorry and shamefull story, as I did feel a bitty shamefaced after almost deheading a few persons. She then gave me a lesson in Belgian greeting, and I immediately knew where my fault lay, as, according to her, you kiss on the left cheek first, and I have been offering, and kissing them on the right cheek all along.

Before I go back to my homestead, I will talk about the wonderful 'green' fruits that are to be found everywhere here in Belgium, like the rosehip that was in abundance everywhere. So Irma and still very scared self again got onto the bicycles, and back to the woods where we picked loads of the rosehips to make jam with.I was actually a little bit more comfortable on the bicycle, and even stayed on once, when there was no other cars parked along the road, and a car roared up to me from the back! Felt like a gladiator of old Rome!!
The walnuts that we have seen all along the footpath to Waasmunde was still too green, so we decided to wait another week. The rosehip jam came out beautifully, and by now Irma was starting to worry about space for all the jars, but Karel, like all other Belgians, is a breadeater, and loves his konfituur (jam).
After a week we went back for the walnuts, but most were already picked, and we felt quite cheated, I know it is silly, but I think because nobody really picked the rosehips, and only a few others picked berries, we felt the walnuts were also ours alone!But with a bit of stretching we could fill the saddle bags, and Irma's small backpack.
Irma had read up about how to dry and clean the nuts, and it appeared that we had to actually peel the green skin off before leaving it to dry. We were warned to wear gloves, as the juice of the walnuts undergoes some chemical reaction,and if it comes onto the skin, it turns black, and can't be removed, and one then has to walk around until your skin had got rid of it!
Irma brought out a box of surgical gloves, and we felt well protected with two pairs on each hand. Four hours later we were finished with the peeling, and felt quite proud with the heap of fruit in the pail, ready for drying.
Then we took off the gloves! We called out in horror! Our thumbs were as black as ink, while our forefingers and down to where the thumb is linked to the hand, was darkly brown, and we started scrubbing!
We tried everything, and nothing even sort of lightened the stains, and Karel just laughed when he got home, telling us that he warned us over and over to be careful!
But it is getting lighter, and now three weeks later, it has wore off to a darkish chestnut colour!
I now have another week before I go home, just in time to start the war against my fruit and veggie enemies again, but I will be sorry to leave the kids, as it will be a long time before I can come again.The one jar at the top is rosehip, and the other one bramle.

I am still writing from Belgium where I am visiting with Irma, Karel and my granddaughter Kiana, and enjoying it immensely. The people I have met so far are so nice, and I really enjoy to visit with Karel's parents.
For the first few weeks I had been able to squash Irma's wish for us to cycle all over Belgium on bicycles, but they all kept on about how nice it would be, and they had specially borrowed a bicycle for me, and bla, bla, bla they went, until one day I said yes, as I was beginning to feel like a real coward.
So with Irma leading, I put both my courage and my balance on the line, as the cobbled streets in Hamme are so narrow, with car's parked all over, leaving just enough space for a biggish mouse to get through. Well, a smallish car then! So the two of us set off to the Durme river to pick some more brambles and elderberries.
I was going on real well, at least both bicycle and self stayed upright, and I was just starting to enjoy the ride, with the cool wind blowing through my hair and onto my face, when I noticed a car coming at full speed from the front, and heard one coming from the back! Enough to put the fear of hell into me, and my back immediately went as stiff as a ramrod, and that is when the bicycle started wobbling! So I jumped off! Irma was okay waiting for me, but the poor motorist from the back who had to put on his breaks quite heavily, did look a bitty shaken!
The thing is, here in Belgium cyclists have right of way, and apparently a motorist is in big trouble if he so much as touch the cyclist, who to my thinking, are sometimes way to arrogant, crossing and joining a road with little concern for the cars. But, Irma explained, all I had to do was to keep on going, as the cars had to give me the right of way, always!
But we made it to the banks of the Durme, and found another load of berries, and it was absolutely wonderful to cycle around there, as there was a small tarred path running all the way to Waasmunster, with sheep watching interestedly from brhind their eletrified fences. Too soon we had to go back, but this time I felt more relaxed cycling on the narrow roads, and made it safely back to to the kids's house.
Irma started immediately on making the bramble jam, while I sat stripping the elderberries, as they are small, growing in clumps. Oh, it was such a nice feeling to watch the jams and syrups take on their sticky, jam consistencies, and I thought about my own country where there was no place to pick wild berries, and as a matter of fact, no wild berries, to pick. I have brambles on my homestead, but it is not safe for women, or a small party to just walk in the wilds looking for berries.
That day we noticed that the walnuts growing all along the path and up to Waasmunster, were almost ready to pick, but the many broken branches meant that people were already picking, although apparently one had to wait until the fruit drop off! We decided to come back after the week-end and see if we could harvest some.

My veggies was coming along fine, and I think that at last I had stopped the tunneling of the moles with the shading nets I had laid, The peacocks were now quite scared of me and my catapult, as I have become quite proficient in shooting it, and it was actually so funny when they come through the brush, necks stretched to the limit, trying to see if I was around, and when they do see me, go into an immediate state of panic, and in their haste to get into the air and over the fence before I got them with a stone from my catapult, they sometimes misjudge the height of the fence, and abandon that way of escape because they were either winded or ended up with a headache from bumping into a pole head first! To see them spread their wings and leg it to the front fence that was lower, gave me great satisfaction!
The goats also came to know my weapon, and when they trespassed into my place, and they saw me coming at them with my catapult, they couldn't leave their lunch or dinner, my trees of course, fast enough and jump back over the fence and to safety! So slowly but surely I was getting on top of all my plants's enemies, although Jan's Kuk-kuks were still a menace, and the snails took their chances whenever they find a ripe and uncovered strawberry, their preferred food.
The window in my sittingroom was at last fixed completely, and I now had to put up a curtain of some sort, but it was quite a headache, as I was unable to drill into the stone wall.
I then decided that the only way was to make a roll-up blind and hang it onto the wooden window frame. But as I am so far from the nearest town with a material shop, and I had a lot of linen that I use for making canvasses, I decided that there was nothing to do but make a blind from that. I didn't like the stark white, so I cut out some flower patterns on a potato, and did some serious potato printing.In the end I was quite chuffed with my creation.
It is easy to make this kind of blind, but it is not for windows that are too big, although as I never made one for a big window, I don't know, it might work. You need your curtain mateial, plus a backing material, cut to
The size of the inside of your window, with enough centimeters on both top and bottom for two seams to take a medium rod, and a centimeter or so for the side seams  cut on. This is then stitched together on the sides. A small seam, about two centimeters wide is then stitched in, top and bottom, big enough for two medium wooden rods used for venetian blinds. I then stitched two  bands of about a centimeter wide, and about forty centimeters long and fastened that to the top of the blind, so that the half hangs down in front, and the other half in the back. I then screwed in small hooks both into the top rod, through the material, and into the window frame at the top, and hung the blind like that. So if you want the blind up, you just roll it up and tie the bands, making two bows, or just letting it hang. Worked wonderfully!

In the meantime a friend of Jan had brought two of his farm workers to make hole where he was going to build his bio-gas plant. Jan is of course an expert on designing huge plants, and that then also makes up the bulk of jobs he gets. He had stopped working for the firm in George, as he wanted to stay at home, him being worried about Nina and the kids when I was in Scotland, as he could only come home over week-ends. He was still doing work for his old firm in Denmark, and he put himself up as a consulting chemical engineer, and got enough work from all over the world.
The next week-end was spent building up the hole with bricks and we were all very excited and could hardly wait for Jan to lay the neccesary piping to the house, and get the rest of the stuff and the thick plastic bag in which the gas is stored and then led to the house from there.
I was also excited, as Jan promised to make me a small bio-gas plant at my back door, by using the smallest water tank on the market, and apparently I could run this on my kitchen waiste.
The stuff he ordered took quite some time to come, and in the meantime life was going on, not always very happily, as the bally Moby was an expert at escaping, and could teach the great Houdini a trick or two! There was not one living sole in that little village that had not yet had an encounter with this dog that was now as big as a donkey, well, almost, and there was usually about ten people every day who came to show Jan their chewed up shoes, or a scrape on their, or on one of their children's bodies that was inflicted when floored, or is it grounded, by the huge dog, and the poor Jan looked more and more worried by the day. He was just about busy fulltime mending holes and hitting in the poles that he had gone to fetch at the co-op. Nothing deterred that dog, and it was just amazing how fast he could find another weak spot in the fencing after Jan thought that it would be a miracle if he managed to escape again, but he did!
It was a strange dog, as he really never bonded with anybody, and when he came home for short whiles to sleep and eat, he just lay down on the veranda and slept, of course after he had his fun with the family and other animals first, and had everyone up in arms.
We read up about Bloodhounds, and it is just a fact that they are not ideal for guarding you, neither do they make good pets, as the slightest interesting smell took them across country with their noses close to the ground, and from Moby's behaviour, we recognized the fact that he was just a normal, pure Bloodhound!
One morning I had just made my cuppa and got back into bed, as it was wet outside, when I heard Kevin Bacon going off, and it was so scary that I sommer legged it to his stye in my bare feet, and without a raincoat, as I thought that the poor porker was being murdered! Bizarre is not even the right word for the scene that met my eyes, as Moby, as nimble as deer, was gamboling all over the stye, smeared in mud, while Kevin, his mouth open in one long and lusty squeal, his redrimmed eyes fixed on the mad going dog, was ready for the kill! When Kevin saw me, he stopped for a moment, then bared his horrible teeth, and made a grab for Moby, and I think that at that moment it dawned on the silly dog that his life was in real danger! He gave a yelp like a small puppy, and tried to scramble through the hole he had made, but the pig was too fast, so I ran to get some feed and threw it over the fence to see if that would stop the raving porker! His attention away from the dog for a moment gave Moby time to scramble through, and he was so traumatized that he flopped down on his bedding and slept the whole morning before he started looking for another weak spot in the fencing!

Then Moby made things worse by turning into a crotch sniffer, and oh my good heavens, the embarrasment he caused was just too horrendous to describe. To see this monster come galopping up to you when on a simple visit and him not even pausing before he either jumps your legs from under you and then start licking your face with gusto, or with much enthusiasm start sniffing your crotch, must have been like a very bad dream, and many of the women vowed never to come visiting again as long as Moby was on the loose. The men did not mind so much, but even their reaction to Moby's sniffing were sometimes hilarious, and I must confess, I had quite a few moments sometimes! But I usually ran for my garlic spray if I saw the people before they went through Jan's gate to try and shoo the dog away, but sometimes I really felt like taking my catapult and give him a nice shot on the backside, as once he had his prey down in a flowerbed, slobbering all over them, it was hard to make him understand that the person did not want to play that game!
After spending a lot of time sulking in front of the gate, his face pulled into a huge frown, he started running along the fence, sniffing excitedly when coming closer to kevin Bacon's stye, as I think he was under the impression that he had found a new playmate. Lelie was a bitty scared of him, as she usully ended up coming home after some playtime, muddied and limping, and he would stand at the gate with a big smile on his face, begging Lelie to come over, as she could get through the fence quite easily.
Anyway, it wasn't too long before he worked out how to make a hole underneath the fence and escape! From then on the poor villagers had no peace, as there was no greater fun in life than to get a person flat on his or her back, and then give the person the most slobbering kisses, and if there was some wrestling involved, all the better!
One day a posse consisting of three highly irate women, and four much calmer men came down the road pulling a highly disgusted Moby on a strong rope connected to his neckband. The women I sensed was much aggrieved, and from between their screams and highly entertaining blasphemie, I couldn't make out  head or tail, but the word sniffing came up a lot, so I  had a fleeting, very entertaining thought of Moby chasing them around, wanting to sniff their crotches, and see, a coloured woman, if she is of the churchgoing sort, is saintlier and of purer thoughts than any saint! Except when it came to their wonderfully coloured language, because when they are upset they pull out all the plugs!
One of the men, a strong young lad with no front teeth, then lisped an earsplitting command for the women to 'shut their bloody traps!', and they glowered at him for a minute or two, then decided to back down, and he then calmly told me that our dog are dangerous, as he hurts the kids by jumping on them and make them fall, and also some grown-ups, and that he is also a thief who steals their food off their tables. At this stage one of the women couldn't keep quiet anymore, and she howled that the dog had also chewed up her child's school shoes.
At that stage I decided to call Jan, who was in the kitchen on the other side of the house, as I believed that he would have a lot of shoes from both Rene and Andreas that they have outgrown that he could give the people, if it fitted! And anyway, it was NOT my problem, and I did not feel like pulling the reluctant dog into Jan's yard! Poor old Laika was a wreck, as she was by now about twelve years old, and was constantly limping from her encounters with Moby!

Moby grew up fast and furiously, and the regular shouts and screams from the kid's side told the sad story of somebody's shoes having been chewed up, or the poor cat almost rolled to death, or a veggie patch that was destroyed, and I just shook my head and went my way, as I have asked them to read up beforehand if they wanted to buy a certain breed of dog.
But the dog really became a problem, as he was immensely big and strong, and I landed on my back a few times, and then had my face licked good and thoroughly before my screams for help were noticed, and the dog was pulled off. Poor Andreas who was only eight years old was regularly under the shower after Moby had some playtime with him.
The strangest thing about the dog was that he never bonded with one person, and would never lie calmly at your feet like other dogs, but was always sniffing at everything, and if he gets the smell of something interesting, no calling, threatening, or begging had any effect on him, as he would just put his nose to the ground and run!
One morning I heard the gate open, and waited to see if the visitor was for me, but minutes later the most alarming screams came from the children's house, and I ran out to see what was up, knowing full well that Moby would have a roll in this little drama! I opened the gate and found Jeanine, a woman about my age flat on her back in a flower bed, and all I could see of her was her feet, and then of course the madly wagging tail of Moby, who was having a nice talk and a play with this unsuspecting playmate! I ran for my spray can, which I had filled with the garlicky concoction I used for the trees, as it stinks like mad, and Moby hated it, and that was actually the only way to get him to retreat when I wanted to visit with the kids. The poor Jeanine was quite hysterical, and it took a lot of talking and a strong cuppa to calm the bemuddied girl back to her old self!
The children of course would not back down now and admit that they had again got the wrong kind of dog, and I could understand it, your animals just about becoming one of your kids.
In the meantime I was wracking my brains thinking of how to tackle the wedding dress Irma had asked me to make, as I had to design it to her idea, and she was one very full of nonsense cookie when it came to what she wanted, and she would rather stay without something than make do with second best!
Kevin Bacon had also now grown into quite a heavy-weight porker, but the children kept on making excuses as to why he could not yet be slaughtered, but I knew that Jan was quite fond of the ugly brute, as he was mostly responsible for feeding it, and its well being. I was quite scared of him, as he had this small red eyes that glared with a kind of hateful and hungry look at me when I had to feed it the times that the kids went out somewhere.
I had previously brought a hanging tamato planter from Scotland, and it worked amazingly well, as the many evil destroyers of my garden could not reach them, and I had plenty of fruit off that. It looked so nice, the plants hanging down like a chandelier, and the red and green tomatoes looked like small jewels when the sun caught them!

Everywhere around me the land was being churned over, the village tractor was roaring, and the poor horses and donkeys with their improvised wire bits were pullng the ploughs through the hardbaked soil. It rained like crazy for a while, and I think the farmers here thought that it would be a wet season, and waited with their ploughing till the last minute, as the ground was again baked rock hard by the scorching sun
The irrigation system had been turned on again, but as the dam was not quite full yet, we had only two days per week to irigate, so I could see the farmers constantly looking up to see whether there was a possibility for rain. As it was mostly onion, potatoes and pumpkins that was planted now, it needed quite a soaking for the first few weeks, as the sun was so hot.
I am sorry for this small farmers, whose whole existence depended on their small harvests, and did not make enough money to put away something for a rainy day, and as most of them, women included, have a great love of bacchus, a big lump of their hard earned money went to the bottlestore owners's pockets.I was lucky  as I still had my flat in George that I rented out for an income, and although that was far from enough, coupled with my small pension from the government, and the fact that I had my own veggie patch, I lived pretty well, that is of course if my one hundred and ten garden destroying pests did not get to the veggies and fruit first.
Then Jan and Nina, who had to get rid of their 'Boerbull' dog called Bubby as he was a dangerous threat to everybody, and attacked the small Andreas one day without provocation, and bit right through his hand, had decided to get another dog. The Boerbull breed is known for their viciousness, and self and Irma had warned them about this breed, but I think they got their's for the family's protection when Jan had to go away to Johannesburg for his work, when he usually was away for three to four days.Nina told us shortly that it is all in the way a dog was brought up whether it is vicious towards his own people, and although I knew that their dogs were treated with lots of love, I still did not like the idea of this breed around the young child, as there are quite a few instances known of them killing their owners, or children.
One day they came home with a small bundle, and I went over to see what kind of dog they got this time.
It was a beautiful Bloodhound puppy, and I immediately liked it, as it's eyes were soft and the expression on it's face very serene, not like Bubby who looked at you since he was a small pup with a frown and a kind of hatred.
But I thought this puppy just too quiet, as it hardly took in any food or drink, and lay in her basket looking at us with a vague expression, and I asked them whether there was something wrong with the little thing, but they didn't believe anything was amiss at first, but the second night after they fetched it from the breeder, it died.
Another three of that litter had also died, and the breeder promised them another puppy from a new litter that was a week old then, so they came home and waited!
Then they got Moby! Oh my good heavens!

Irma and Karel had decided to get married, and shortly after I came back from Scotland, she arrived with some beautiful material, and asked if I would please make her a dress for her wedding. The dress had to be kind of old Celtic like, and we went to Cape Town to look for a pattern, or even just for ideas, as the two of us are quite okay with designing, me of course having made hippy clothes for a long time, and going to the markets. We just could not find one single pattern that Irma liked, and after scouring just about every material place from the one side of the big city to the other side, and my feet bally sore and my corns crying out to be freed from the narrowness of the shoes, my feet having swelled from the heat, my temper became just a bitty thin, and I declared that I will go and wait in the car, and she could do her searching.
We spent just about the whole day in the shops, and me, being of course extremely prone to hayfever, specially from fine dust and the starch from the material, I ended up with swolen eyes and a red nose, and sneezing uncontrolably!
But, Irma informed me casually, she had decided from looking at different patterns, that Mum could easily design and make something, if she drew it exactly as she wanted it. Sela!
We were still in Cape Town fora few days, as she and Rico, the pianist who acompanny her on the piano, had a concert the Saturday night.The two of them have such a fantastic rapport between them, and as Rico is also a wonderful comedian, and Irma herself also a natural when it came to bringing in a bit of fun, their concerts were always very popular.
That Monday morning Rico and self took the long road home, as Irma needed some more stuff, and I happilly conceded my place as attendant to the bride to be on a shopping spree to Karel the sufferer! He is just the calmest person I have ever met, and kept Irma well in line!
Lelie was so glad to see me, as she stayed alone at the house, with Jan and Nina feeding her. She couldn't wait to get out of the yard and down to the river for her daily playtime, and I must say, I felt a bit guilty for having left her.
The next few days were spent weeding, fighting off peacocks, snails, chickens and of course my darling little doggy, who on getting bored, amused herself by chasing the chickens around, or play  with her friend the cocky wee cock, whose vicious attacks on her were taken by the silly girl as playfulness,and when tired of that, she chewed up my garden! She also loved the strawberries, and would lie happily in the sun, chewing contentedly on a strawberry that she had expertly removed from my calico covers.
I am still in Belgium, and yesterday I had again taken to the small cobbled roads on Irma's bicycle, while she took Karel's. Oh my good heavens, it was again a hair raising experience, with me finding myself on the wrong side of the road, and Irma constantly looking back, waving me to the other side, and the terrified me  jumping off every time a car came at me, but most of all I hate a car coming from the back.

My veggie patch was beginning to look very good indeed, and I was now busy preparing a new patch to plant the strawberries by also putting some shading net down where I had removed the soil, as the veggies thrived now that their roots were left in peace.
I had a good laugh the previous night when I went to feed Irma's dogs, as she was singing in George, and would be away for the night.
Karel, Irma's Belgian fiance, as they were not married yet then, and who we called Karel 'Waterpas' (spirit level )because he used his spirit level for everything, and I was in awe when I realised that he even used it to level his veggie patches had gotten some pressed wood and planks, had decided to make a wooden house for Hendrix and Tembi, as he did not much like the dogs all over the house. Irma, a real Heyns when it came to that, her Grandmother having been a Heyns and also crazy about house animals, allowed her dogs the freedom to sleep where they liked, and they each had their favourite chair. But lately poor Tembi had started to smell, as she was now about sixteen years old, but still going strong.
Karel, who apparently never had an animal as a kid, disliked the animals's hair, and Tembi's stench all over the house so the necessarry stuff were bought, and the spirit level brought out!
It took a few days of sawing and hammering, and of course if something was only half a centimeter out, that piece was taken off, and with great patience from Karel, and growing impatience from Irma, who, like me, always jumped in without doing any prep or calculations, and of course always ended up wondering why the intended piece of wonder did not live up to expectations, was sawed or skuured to perfection.
But after some heavy slog and plenty of sweating, the dog house stood proudly in the backyard against the wall, and it certainly made a statement, as not only was it the most perfect thing, but it almost rivalled their own house in size!
I got to their house to feed the dogs at about six that night, and it was raining quite hard, but I had no fear for the dogs's comfort, as the new house was a masterpiece where no rain could penetrate!
What met my eyes was so bizarre that I stood for a minute or two before I took action, as in this new doggy palace, stretched out on the new bedding Irma had put in, completely relaxed and stretched out like bally madam 'le Pompadour', was the ugly Tembi, and turning around to look for Hendrix, I found the poor boy squeezed into a tight ball on the kitchen step, trying to escape the rain.
I soon found out why the poor boy was lying outside in the rain, as when I called him and told him to go into their house, Tembi became a ball of black fury, and with that long and dangerous teeth of hers flashing like sables, I even got scared, and the thought that I might also have preferred to sleep in the rain flashed through my brain! Maybe the old boy just did not see his way out in sleeping with Tembi's flavour!
I decided to put Hendrix in the kitchen and close the inside door, as I could not leave him outside, the rain now coming down heavily, and I don't think the kids would mind that!
The animal world is really so interesting if one look at their view of things, as Tembi in this case was number one in their relationship, and although Hendrix was the male, she ruled him with the iron fist of a real and ferrocious matriarch!

The Kuk-kuks that was supposed to be more hens than cocks, but who turned out to be some strange looking birds, neither hens, nor cocks, was up for slaughtering, and Jan again got advice from his all knowing friends, something I swore never to do again after the fiasco with my rafters and the creosote that was supposed to kill the wood eating bugs, but instead of doing that, kept me from using the room for two years!
In the end Jan decided to chop off the chickens's heads from now on, as that sounded to him like the fastest and most humane way after the previous attempt when the poor chicken ran around with its face looking to the back instead of falling dead after it was 'strangled!'
So the chicken that was to be slaughtered for dinner was laid on a wooden block, it's legs nicely tied together, and at that stage we all again ran for something behind which could await the blow, and Jan's announcement that the cock was dead!
The blow came after a long time, with Nina and the kids begging him to get it over with, and self, who wanted to keep chickens both for eggs and eating once I stopped working in Scotland, crying like a bally idiot!
I heard the blow, and waited for Jan's voice to tell us that the coast was clear, but instead there was one loud cackle, and the sound of wings being clapped furiously, and then one unrepeatable word from Jan clefted the quietness, so we all emmerged from our different hiding places, just in time to see Jan going at top speed chasing after the cock, blood spurting from his comb--I mean the cock's comb.Oh, it was actually hilarious, , but the funny side hit us only much later, and Nina gave him some lip for not tying the legs properly!
It took some doing to catch the furious cock, who was telling the world in a much enraged voice about the stupidity of man, who chop off chicken's combs, and the whole family now joined in with operation catch a bleeding cock! When the poor thing kind of collapsed because of loss of blood I think, he was taken home, and Jan went on the internet to find a way to kill the chickens without harassing both the cocks, and himself!
He came out some time later, and found the poor cock being nursed by his family, but at least he now had found a decent way on the internet, and he was going to try that, swearing that if that failed, he would just sell the chickens and buy ready slaughtered ones.
The tip he got from the internet proved to be good, both easy and much more humane than chopping off heads, and from then on the family regularly had their own chickens on the dinner table, and after a while the kids and Nina actually started to do the plucking and the cutting open and so forth. I was in a bit of a two way road, as I just knew that I would never be able to slaughter a chicken!

Lelie and 'friends'

When I first came back from Scotland, I found a troupe of smallish white chickens looking very much at home around my house, scratching away as if the place belonged to them.As they did not scratch away half a ton of soil in one go, and with that half of my plants like Jan's Kuk-kuks, I let them be. Whose chickens it was I don't know, as every night when the sun started setting, they disappeared mysteriously down the road, and every morning before the sun was up long, they were back.
When I found a nest full of eggs, of which most were rotten, I tried to find out whose chickens they were, but everybody told me a different story, and then a woman up the road told me about how well she knew the people, and she would come and collect the eggs from me and deliver it to the owners. but after I emptied the nest the hen or hens deserted it, and there was no more eggs for me to worry about.
The troupe eventually took umbrage at my disturbing their peace, and came less and less, all except a small white hen, and a cockey white cock.
The little hen was a gentle soul, and at first it was only her, and I bought a small bag of chicken feed, as I knew that none of the Haarlem animals were being fed by their owners, and I just liked the little hen around, as Lelie, who was quite lonely without Hendrix, had found in her a little playmate.
But then one day this very stroppy little cock appeared on my doorstep, and started harassing the hen, attacking her when I threw out some of the maize that was meant for her, but I was quite okay with him also having some. He however became a menace to the little hen, who one day just did not come back, and I will never know whether she was eaten by one of the village families, or by the otters, or maybe just too scared at the vicious attacks of the cock. I tried my best to shoo him away, but he refused to let go of a good thing, as he had found out that Lelie's plate always had some pellets in, as she liked to take one at a time, walk to her bed, and lie chewing on this one pellet.

But then this cock realized that Lelie was fed a certain time every morning and afternoon and from then on, like bally clockwork, he would appear at the door, and Lelie would be so happy, as she thought he came to play with her. When I put out her food he became very aggresive, attacking the playful Lelie, who still thought that he wanted to play, and she would bark and frollick, running around in circles, when he would take his chance and have a go at her food. In the beginning he was a bit wary of me, but he became more and more of a hazard to Lelie, whom he one day attacked, and hurt her one eye so badly that I chased him away by throwing stones at him! But he was adamant that he would have his share of the bounty, and as he became scared of the raging me who threw boulders at him, and even emptied a jug full of water over his head, he would first stand at the hole he usually came through, and watch the door intently to see if I was near, and if the coast looked clear, then he would scramble through, and clucking softly, attempt to get to the food bowl unseen! Lelie was always so glad to see him, and continued to think him her bosom pal, and I felt so bad when I chased him away after every attack on the little dog, as she would stand with her head to one side, looking at me as if to ask why was I chasing away her friend. I then went around closing up every hole that a chicken could squeeze through.

Jan and Nina, and a friend of their's called Sammi, also very much into the new and much acclaimed way of perma-culture farming, had booked a week-end at a farm in the Prince Albert pass, but although I was faintly interested, I did nor have the money to join them, as this was quite an expensive exers

ize. They were secretly relieved I think, as then I could look after the kids for the week-end.
They came back with a lot of new-fangled ideas and idiologies some of which I just found a bit outrageous, like the chicken coops that are placed all over, with two hens and a cock inside, and which is then shifted every now and then, leaving a small patch of turned over, well fertilized soil, ready to be planted. Inside this coop is also a perch for the chickens to roost on, and also a box for the hens to lay their eggs. To me it was a rediculous affair, as in the first instance, the poor chickens could not escape when the sun was so hot that all living things ran for shade, and although the coop was covered with shading net, I could see that the chickens were suffering from the heat, and in the second instance, I thought it not at all the thing to keep the poor things in such a small space.
But they had learned all this at their week-end outing, and before long a few of this wonder coops stood under the scorching sun, and the chickens inside stood forlornly in the bit of shade thrown by the shading net, breathing heavily, eyes looking unseeingly into the distance. I tried to reason with them, but they were adamant in their believe that this was a wonderful way of keeping chickens, and at the same time make them work for you. Nothing could shake their believe in the doctrines of this perma-culture culture!
One day Jan opened one of the coops to take the eggs out, and one little hen managed to get passed him, and so escaped to freedom, and she must have known that if caught it was the prison again, for she legged it down to the river, cackling like something demented, with Jan at her heels. But this hen was not to be caught, and Jan came back with some skin of his knees from diving at the hen when he thought he was close enough to catch her, but she outwitted him time and again, and disappeared into the low bushes at the river, never to be seen again!
I hope the wee thing managed to make it to the other side of the river and lived happily ever after on the plentyful earthworms down there, but as there was a family of otters living there who played havock with Ronalee's ducks, I had a faint suspicion that the hen became part of their dinner!
In the meantime Lelie was fixed, and the two of us became very attached. As I am very prone to hay fever, Lelie had to sleep in her basket in the room next to me. As there was no door anymore, all the inside doors having been stolen off before I bought the house, I opted to hang a curtain instead of a door, as it was only me. It was so cute when every morning when the light started streaming through the windows, Lelie would lift the curtain with her nose, and stood staring at me, with just her nose and eyes showing. She was such a clever little thing, as she knew she was not allowed in my bedroom, and never tried to take liberties with that.
The picture of the chicken coop was taken of one that didn't work too well, being a bitty small, but they made some that was a bit bigger.

I am still writing from Hamme in Belgium, where I am visiting with my kids, and enjoying it very much. I love all the festivals and the bustling life all around, as at home, specially the small towns and villages just go into a kind of hibernation when the sun goes down, everybody locking themselves into their iron and steel fortified forts, too scared to go anywhere in case their houses get broken into, or being hurt or murdered by a gang waiting in the darkness for them to come back! We all have at least one murdered friend or family member, and as long as our government members keep on pocketing state money instead of investing in the country's future by creating jobs, and  build better houses for folks, not the cheap two room things that do not last for more than about two years, things will not improve.
Anyway, after many years I have been coerced onto a bicycle by the kids, but oh boy, riding on the wrong side of the narrow cobbled roads of Hamme, with cars coming at you from all sides, I get so nervous that I sommer jump off and wait till the danger is over, trembling a wee bit, as the old nervous system is not used to this kind of excitement! But, with Irma riding in front, I have made it to the little road running along the Duhrme river, where we picked a lot of bramble berries, and also 'flierbesse', this being small berries that grow on bunches on a tree.
Back home Irma cooked jams and also made syrups, and that she uses in a yoghart smoothy every morning. Delicious!
We have also done a lot of sightseeing, and drove to the Dardenne, where I found a small village called le Roux, the name of my mother's family, and that must be where her forbears came from. This part of Belgium belonged to France in the past. In a week's time we will go to a place called Staden, where my father's family came from, my family name being van Staden. This people of course went to South Africa because of their being Protestant and therefor much discriminated against, and helped to build up the country, where most of their descendants still live, still fighting for their place in the sun. It does bother me sometimes, when I walk through the towns here, that I might have much purer Flemish blood than many around me, but I am not alowed to even come for a visit without a lot of botheration.
I love all the festivals that are on all over the place, and on Sunday we went to st Niklaas to watch the balloons go up from the square, but we missed the first lot, and the second lot couldn't go up because the weather deteriorated. Very disappointing, as there would, I think, have been forty balloons going up together, and it would have been wonderful to see.
Saturday evening we went to Oostende, where Irma had to be for a photographic display by a woman called Yel Ratajczak, who published a book about artists from other countries now living in Belgium, of which Irma is one. I loved Oostende, where we went for dinner at one of the seaside resaurants, then had a long strole in the cool air, all along the quay with all the beautiful yachts softly swaying in the semi darkness.
The bottom picture was taken in from some old ruins in Dinant.

As I was busy at the bottom of my garden trying to make another mole free patch, it was in both Lelie's, and my best interest to tie her to a pole where she could spend her time watching me, and out of the sun. She was not happy with this arrangement, and tried her best to make a bid for freedom by chewing feverishly at the rope, but I was adamant that none of the Haarlem scarecrows would come near her.
After a long time trying to free herself, she gave up and just lay in the shade of the huge Lavetera bush, watching me with eyes that was accusing me sadly of being the biggest spoilsport ever, and although I did feel sorry for her, I had no intention of letting her go free.
I left the poor girl lying in a pathetic little heap to make lunch, but my sympathy was not quite as much as should be, as it was a bally full time job keeping the Haarlem lovers at bay, and I was tired of throwing down tools and running after the mongrels who managed to find yet another whole! And that just after i have closed up a new entrance route!
I  made myself a sandwich and a cuppa, and took a few doggy treats for the badly used maiden, as I felt that she needed something to make up for what she was missing, but on me coming round the corner, and there was missy, scratching around in my newly planted veggy patch, with small plants and soil flying through the air, and in all directions, I nearly forgot about the fact that she was only an animal, and was very close to giving her a thrashing! She was so intent on her mission, maybe she heard the moles underneath my shading net complain about the fact that the net was keeping them from getting to the earthworms, that she didn't even see me coming around the corner, and when I gave a bellow, she had such a fright that she almost strangled herself trying to run away!
I was furious, mostly with myself for leaving Lelie in a position to destroy my plants, but also at the whole nature thing that I at that moment believed was conspiring to bring me down, for if it wasn't the bally peacocks, it was the moles, or the snails, or Jan's two strange cocks, and now a new hazard had loomed it's head in the shape of Lelie. The devastaion the little dog had left was just too much, and I just sat on the grass, and cried!
I had an appointment at the vet to have her fixed in a few days, just after the week-end, and once my wrath and disappointment had subsided, I gathered the young plants, and seeing that most were still in one piece, I put them in a bucket with water to recuperate , to replant them when it was cooler.
I then took Lelie for a walk down to the river, after tying a long piece of rope onto the other one, and tried to tire her out by throwing sticks for her to fetch, as she loved to do that.
With the sun warm on my back, and the joyfull song of the river that was running again after the long drought, all my doubts and murderous thoughts towards my garden's enemies disappeared, and I splashed around in the river with Lelie, both of us laughing with wide open mouths!
When the sun started pulling water, I replanted my veggy plants that had miraculously lifted their heads, vowing to never leave Lelie out there again!

Then Lelie (lilly) came back into my life. This is the little mite that Kristani picked up about a year ago, covered with raw sores over her whole body, and no hair.Irma ordered Kristani to get rid of it, as it looked like it had mange, but said that the little thing could stay until morning, but no longer, in case Hendrix caught it. In the morning however, when Irma went to make coffee, she looked into the box, sure that the little dog would be dead, but she burst into tears when she saw a raw and red little tail starting to wag furiously, and two black eyes staring at her from between two huge mange ridden ears! Of course that was it, and Lelie stayed!
When Kristani moved out some while later, Lelie went with, and as time went on, she grew into this fantastic little dog with a coat as white as snow, with no markings, but around both her eyes she had black rings, looking like it was drawn in with a kohl pencil. She was beautiful.
Kristani brought her to me when she went to Holland to work, and I soon grew to love her, and luckily Irma said that she could go to them when I go back to Scotland. But now followed a period of intense frustration, as just after she was brought to me, she went on heat before I could get an appointment to have her fixed,  Kristani never having done it, as their yard was quite secure.
If you have never lived in a village like Haarlem, I don't think anybody could form an idea about the hordes of stray dogs, cats and other beasts walking the roads, and I think that old Hendrix might have had some lusty encounters with quite a few ladies, as their was suddenly quite a few Labrador crosses roaming around.
Of course the males got wind of Lelie's condition, and within a short period of time this lot started hanging around the gate, trying their best to get in, while Lelie, the cheap little hussy, tried her best to get out for a bit of fun with all this would-be lovers. I would have none of that, as in the first instance I did not want a litter of puppies, and secondly, the loverboys of Haarlem was a woebegone lot with their ribs sticking out from under their scraggly coats caked with dirt, and their thin bodies showing signs of a desperate need for food. I usually threw all my scraps over the fence, and I think that kept quite a few of them alive.
Within a few days I was bally tired out from keeping watch and chucking out quite a few of the would be lovers who managed to scramble through a small hole in the fence, and when I again saw Lelie making cautiously for a small hole underneath where the fence spanned the watervoor running down in front of my house, I got a rope and a leash from Jan and tied her to the front door where I could keep a constant eye on her.

After that night's rain it was as if the heavens had decided to produce as much rain as possible, as from then on we had such a lot that the river again overflowed it's banks, but of course not as badly as the previous time when there was such a lot of damage.
Everywhere over the village people were busy preparing for sowing, and the village tractor was busy all day long. The village tractor belongs to the villagers, and at a very small fee it can be rented to plough your fields, but a lot of people had horses, so they used that to plough with. Of course I am always up in arms when the ploughing started, as the horses are treated without any compassion, and sometimes a piece of wire is used in the animal's mouth cutting through the flesh, and I saw red every time I saw a horse being hit and shouted at, and this poor animal bleeding from the wire in it's mouth. I have written about the many fights my granddaughter Kristani had with the villagers, even had some horses taken away, but I don't think that the people understood what it was all about. Animals to most of them were there to be used.
I had a very good idea to fool the bally creeper moles, who were still very much busy looking for earthworms, and in doing so of course they push all the soil away from your plants's roots, and then of course the plants, specially the young one, die.

So on the first dry morning I donned my overalls and my water boots, and started on the laborious job of scooping out the soil from a spot where I had the garden before the moles came, as it was good soil, and it got enough sun. It was hard work, but I knew that if I just planted my seedlings without doing this, I would again have no veggies this year. My plan was to take out the soil to a depth of about forty centimeters, then line the hole with some shading net of which I had plenty, before putting back the soil. I hoped that by doing that, the moles would make their holes underneath the shading net, and leave the soil inside the net unmolested.
It took me two days of hard slog, me having to take more breathers than I wanted to, as the old back muscles were not so supple and strong anymore, but when at last I stood proudly surveying my handiwork, with my compost enriched soil back on it's place, I bursted out in song, to give praise to the Lord for putting such a good plan into my head, but stopped abruptly when all the birds flew away overhastily! With a voice like mine it was maybe not a good idea to give praise that way, and a funny feeling that maybe the moles were sent to keep me from my praising when my stuff grew so beautifully before the moles came, stole into my thoughts, so I just looked up, and gave thanks by a small prayer!
I decided to plant out the seedlings the same night, as planting in the morning was a bit hazardous, because by nine the sun was scorchingly hot, and no young plant that were into the ground for only an hour or so had any chance of surviving.
The next morning saw me raising my voice again, not in praise this time, but shouting down the wrath of every god there was onto the bally snails, who had a feast on my young seedlings through the night. Luckily it was not a completely lost case, as some plants escaped the gluttonous jaws of the slimy pests, and I still had a few seedlings left in the pan, and could plant them when it was cooler!
And I did put sluggems out that night, as no other concoction I had tried was of any use when it came to the very clever and very hardy Haarlem snails!
In no time however, the kikuju grass had taken over again, and I was desperately looking for some help to remove it!

A few nights later there was a change in the weather, as the night air was not freezingly cold, and Everybody was optimistic that the rain would come soon. It is believed, or maybe it is a scientific fact that if the day and night temperatures differ too much, the possibility for rain is just about nil.
I woke up in the middle of the night after this change in the weather, and felt that something very bad was wrong with my feet, as it felt as if something heavy was lying on them, so I almost fell out of bed, always keeping in mind that the snakes can easily sail in through the roof! It was no snake, but my bedding was soggy, as brown water was streaming through my drapes and onto my bed! At first I groaned and moaned, but as the significance of this got through to me, I stormed to the window to have a peep and make sure that it was actually raining!
It was not only raining, it was pouring, and small rivulets of water was already running down the driveway. It was wonderful, but I had to now look for somewhere else to sleep further, as my mattress was soaked, and the only option was to run down to the bottom in the rain. For the hundredth time I wished that I could find somebody who could put a door in between the main house and the new part, but people were too scared, as the house was built with huge rocks, and they were scared that the whole thing would collapse.
I took a vow to get the roof done, but the mishap with the previous attempt had taken a lot of money, and to get real thatchers, I mean a thatching bussiness, was at this stage a bitty out of my reach. The problem is, when it rains and everything gets wet, I vow every time to have it done, but as it does not rain all that much, I soon forgot about my vow when the rain was over! If I knew it was going to rain, I usually take precautions, so it was not that bad at all, and it was only a few leaks anyway! Mmmmm!
Jan and Nina's chickens had grown into heavy weights while I was away, and the different clans were still fighting each other, as the Greys still lusted after the red hens, and the red cocks did not like that at all.
The poor Don Juan that was so manhandled by the grey cocks the previous year was looking bad, as he had almost no feathers left on his neck, and his body also looked a bit patchy. Jan was moaning that it was becoming impossible to keep the two lots apart, and decided that he would slaughter the grey cock that was as vicious as a teased wasp, and was the main culprit when it came to terrorising the reds.
Jan decided to take his friend's advice and wring the cock's neck.
So, with the whole family chasing after this cock, who was literally running for his life, and as quick as lightning, they managed to corner the poor thing, and Rene, the eldest son managed to catch it, and it was a quite disheveled Jan who walked down to behind the pig's stye to do the killing, while his family hid behind the big Pepper tree, and me safely behind my closed doors!
According to Jan he did just as he was told by Pierre, but when he put the chicken down, this bird did not run a few yards and then dropped dead, but he legged it across the stubby field, his neck sitting at a strange angle, and Jan called in the help of his family to catch the half strangled cock! Not an easy task, as the cock by now realized what was cooking, and fear gave his wings power, and it was quite some time before they caught the by now far from cockey cock.
I went to see what was happening, and Nina told me that Jan was in the store room with the chicken and his ax, and that he was going to chop the cock's head off. After a few minutes Jan came out, holding the now headless chicken by the legs, and he was crying like a baby, swearing that that was his last chicken slaughtering! Once the chicken was dead the family appeared again, and all of them helped to pluck it!