Trienkie and Stephan arrived from Capetown, and we had a happy time together, cooking jams, canning, and I was again drying some apricots in the sun. I think nowadays all fruit are dried artificially, because it is so kind of tough and chewy, but very sour. The ones dried in the sun just have a taste that is incomparable, so sweet and actually to me, tasting of the sun!
This made me a bitty malancholy, thinking of my youth, when during December, the whole van Staden family, that is my father's side, would descend on my grandmother's farm, on which my dad was farming, my granddad having been dead for many years, and two whole weeks would be spent in processing the different fruits.
It was like an ant heap, everybody scurrying around, the men constantly chopping wood for the huge stove that had to be kept going all the time, some of the women peeling, some washing bottles, while others was de-pipping the apricots.There was no electricity on the far-off farms, and even today a lot of that farms have their own ways of working up just enough electricity to watch a bit of television at night time, the aunties, after a visit to the children living in the cities, having got quite addicted to the American soapies, and one Afrikaans one called 'Sewende Laan.'(Seventh Avenue)
Us children had a wonderful time, with all the cousins together, and the whole farm at our disposal. As our farm was situated in the Waterberge, meaning water mountains, there was a lot of small waterfalls cascadindg down the mountain, and one of these was just perfect as the water cascaded down into a pool just deep enough for us to swim in, but the nicest was the rock over which the water fell.
Through the years this rock was smoothed by the water running down over it constantly, and we soon found that we could climb to the top and glide down the slippery rock! It was the greatest fun ever, but we got a bitty stick from our mothers because we soon ran out of panties, as the rock took it's toll on that! Then one day gran sat down, us now having no underwear left, and from empty flour bags she made a heap of panties, and my uncle Boeta had to drive the huge old farm lorry to town to get some elastic!
To us kids that was heaven came down on us, as we were allowed to go with, and stood at the back, singing and joking.
The flour bag panties were just what we needed, but we walked around with our backsides advertising either maize meal, bread flour, or cake flour in big and bright blue and red letters! We actually had no male cousins, and the only one, my little brother, was only a year or two old then, so we girls had also to do our bit, and after the apricots and peaches that had to be dried was ready, a big wire mesh would be put on the roof, and us kids were hoisted up, and had to spread the fruit on the mesh. Oh, it was wonderful, sunny, happy days!