The snow we had so out of season, was not enough to harm my onions, and this little plants are growing by the minute. I think that I could harvest by the end of September, or mid October. It is a bit of a srtruggle to get Bush to do the weeding, as he is forever on the run selling socks and other small stuff that he buys in Johannesburg. On top of that he works for Ronalee twice a week, so Sunday afternoons he usually rocks up, full of excuses and promises, bit it just is not enough time to keep the plants healthy.
Our understanding is that I give the land, pay the tractor for ploughing, and also pay for the seeds, and other stuff, while he does the work! In the end we then share the profits! So, as there were still some seedlings that just did not get planted out, I told him on the Friday that if it wasn't done by Monday, I would do it myself, and then he would only get half of his half, for the one I planted out! That put him into first gear, and he worked until darkness fell, but there is still some to be done! The problem being of course that the seedlings are not seedlings anymore, and as they are standing in close bunches, there is no space to grow further, and the tops are starting to turn brown.
I have sown some beet, and radishes, and the little plants are growing strong. I mean to bottle a lot of beet this year, as curried beetroot is one of my favorite side dishes, and Trienkie got me the recipe from her mum in law, who makes the best ever curried beetroot!! I also have a very abundent crop of broad beans, and the rocket I planted the previous year have just about taken over my whole plot! I thought of harvesting it, and sell it to the local shops, one of which had already put in an order for a big portion of my onion crop!
It is really so good to grow your own food, and when I recently made a stew, and took my frozen
cherry tomatoes out, I felt my heart swelling with pride and gratitude because I am one of the lucky ones that grow food without chemicals! The small tomatoes I froze, keeping a plastck bucket in the freezer, and every day I picked the ripe ones, and just added it to the frozen ones in the bucket! That means that I just take out a handfull as I need them, and put the others safely back!

The winter should have been over by now, as it was supposed to be spring, but suddenly a gusty wind sprang up, driving dark and evil looking clouds across the heavens. It looked ominous, and when I spoke to my friend Louise, she informed me that snow was forecasted! At first there was only small outbursts of icy cold drops being blown over my onion fields, but when I went to get my washing from the line, I saw what I thought at first was hail, but soon realised that it was indeed snowflakes! So where, I asked looking up at the grey heavens, was the spring/
Next morning it was worse, and I had a stream of water coming in at the chimney running across my kitchen floor, and making a nice pond in the small scullery! The wind that started the previous day was now howling at full force, and rain was splashing against the windows! It was bitterly cold, and as our houses have no heating, and electricity expensive, and of course scarce, and the government asking us all the time to cut down, the use of heaters was an almost no-no! The new government did not keep up with the continiously rising demand, as they undertook to provide electricity for every household, and with no new plants being built, we now have quite a lot of power sharing, and this is very inconvenient. Luckily I have a gas cooker, so I never go hungry, and the new freely available solar lights help a lot. It is only the heating that bothers! I am however trying to use mostly solar energy, and plan to get a new kind of geyser, that apparently take heat from the atmosphere, and so heats the water. It is difficult with my very old thatch roof to install a solar heater, so that is the answer, as it is free standing on the ground.
I looked out of my scullery window when I went to make my morning tea, and saw that the mountains on the one side of the village had indeed a light dusting of snow, so I just made a strong cuppa, and went back to bed with my two hot water bottles freshly filled. It was just to cold to stay up, so I read until eleven, when the pangs of hunger sent me scuttling to the kitchen.
It rained the whole day, and I kept on drying up the water coming in from the chimney, and chucking this water out, I noticed one huge white pig on my land. I was worried, knowing how pigs can just nuzzle everything out, and he was in with the onions, so I donned raincoat and shoes, and flew across the wet earth making ungodly noises, hoping the pig would leave quietly!
Thinking of Kevin Bacon, who bit me on my thy, I was just a bitty scared, but this pig looked like he had no intention of leaving, as he was gorging himself on the acorns underneath my two oak trees. I shoo-ed, and I out-ed, but pig was either deaf or insolent, and as by this time the rain was again pelting down, I just closed the gate, that the wind must have blown open with a piece of string, leaving enough space for the porker to leave when he had eaten his fill!

I am totally disgusted, and cross, and all this bad feelings because the creeper moles had a field day in my garden while I was away, and lots of my more tender and younger plants had died because all the soil were taken away from underneath their roots. I have now tried just about every lotion and potion on the market, all the gadgets for trapping them, and hundreds of home remedies, given by well meaning friends and other, all to no avail. The trapping gadget, that boasted in big black letters about how fantastic it was, as it would catch me mole after mole, ridding my place in no time of the wee pests, was just another good for nothing gadget, as not even one mole walked into this trap.
But this morning I am on my way to the shop, as soon as it opened at eight, to buy 'chappies bubble gum'. And why do you need bubble gum, my dear friend Edythe asked me, quite surprised that I had at my age suddenly got addicted to 'chappies'! The thing is, Ronalee, my neigbour, who had also tried everything on the market, and all the hints and tips given out by well meaning friends and family, had another tip that was sure and guaranteed to kill evey mole on her homestead. And so Ronalee rushed up to the local Savers Lane, a small shop catering for the villagers, and said to sell chappies, and bought a bag full of bubble gum.
I did not hear anything more for a few days, but then Fred and Jeanine came to visit me, and they told me that Ronalee had just that morning found a dead mole on the grass! As I had never even had the privelage yet of seeing one of this critters that had been given me such a lot of trouble, I was delighted with this news!
So this works like this, for people with creeper moles. A chappie is cut into quarters, without removing the paper, as the human smell puts this pests of their food apparently, then shake a piece into a fresh hole, usually hid underneath a stone or bigger plant, and voila! You wait!
As no autopsy was done on Ronalee's dead mole, nobody knew whether it died of old age, illness, or the gum, but hey, I am so desperate that I would try just about everything! I will have one big celebration if this works, and will keep all and everybody posted.

Little Emil had grown such a lot while I was away, and I can't believe that he was now talking, albeit a lot of babble that we can't understand, but he himself knew exactly what he said, as he usually showed us by pointing his finger at the object, usually food of some sort. I was really a bit down, as Jan had now decided to move to Cape Town the end of December, as his relationship with Erna was blooming.
The only thing that reconciled me to the fact that they were leaving, was the fact that Jan had gotten his mojo back, and gone was the terrible sagging of his body, and sad, sad eyes!

Just when my confidence had soared to such heights as to allow me to face a few oncoming cars, and kept on cycling, albeit with a back like a ramrod and a heart that fluttered like a frightened bird, it was time to say goodbye to this beautiful country, and to my beautiful kids, and go home!
The last two weeks were spent picking walnuts that were hanging like green jewels on the rows of trees along the footpath where we had earlier picked the berries. We ignored all the advice on cleaning the walnuts,specially the bit on wearing strong gloves, as walnuts dye the skin, and Irma found us two pairs of thin, hairdyeing ones, and we started peeling with much enthusiasm! We laughed about all the old woman stories about black fingers that had to wear of, as nothing lifted walnut dye, but after about three hours of peeling, this not an easy task, the thin gloves long since discarded, we did notice a light brown tinge on our fingers. By dinnertime they were dark brown, and the next morning we woke up with pitch black fingers!
And nothing would lift it! We scrubbed, and used all the chemical cleaners we could find, but to no avail, and I must admit, my believe in old woman stories were restored!
Karel's family were absolutely delightful, and we spent a lot of time with them. The Saturday before I left, Jan, Karel's brother invited us over for his prize waffles, proper Belgian ones, and I ate my fill! Actually so much, as they were delicious, and I had way to much, that I was queasy for two days! Then Karel's Mum asked us over for a 'kaas skotel' (cheese meal), and she had some wonderful kinds of cheese that I had never even seen, South Africa not yet up to scratch when it came to dairy products. I ate so much, and the cheeses were so rich, that I had a really bad tummy the next day!
Now I am back in good old South Africa, where the sun welcomed me with its warm rays as I came out of the airport building, and the smiles on my two grandsons's faces when they spotted me made me feel warm and wanted. I spent a few days with them, then drove back home, the bare dry scenery of the Karroo looking even more dry and arrid after the lush greens of Belgium
As when I came back from Scotland before, the beasties had taken over my house, and after inspecting the onions to see if Bush had kept them alive, which he did, I set to on clearing away the cobwebs and dead insects, while the huge rainspiders watched me disgustedly! Or so I thought! Some of these spiders are as big as my hand, but as they are not poisonous, I let them be, and they were actually like companions, sitting on the walls or hanging on the thatch, watching me come and go!.

Murphy's law is a wonderful and sometimes quite a disconcerting one! We were picking enough berries to fill a lot of bottles with jams and syrups, and it was just wonderful to be out on such a nice day, and be in such a wonderful place. In South Africa it is not possible for two women to go out alone like this, as it is plainly to dangerous'
 We haven't seen any cyclist for ages, when we decided to have the snacks that we had brought along, and we duly found a table with bunks on two sides, and unpacked our goodies with relish! We both needed a toilet, but of such a commodity there was not a sight, so Irma decided to use a clump of shrubs that allowed for some privacy! All went well, and Irma came back smiling her relieve with her bladder now empty, and while she kept watch. I took the plunge, a wee bitty apprehensive, as the trees did not completely covered one, but as there was nobody on the path for ages, I did not feel too scared. But, as I said, old Murphy is one spiteful culprit, and I just had my jeans lowered, when a loud swish sound came to my ears, and by now I knew what a bicycle, or rather a lot of the things, sounded like, and I desperately tried to crouch deeper under the branches, but to no avail! Time to pull up my jeans there was not, and I saw how about a dozen guys came swishing around the bend, and this led them straight to the trees where I was now in great anguish, before the path turned again.
Of course they saw me, well luckily only my torso, but they knew well enough what I was doing, and one of them shouted at the top of his voice: Bon appe-pee, and the others joined in, and with great smiles they all copied the first guy! I was bally embarrassed, and of course my darling daughter was in hysterics!
All too soon it was time to go back, and the thought of taking the bicycle on the roads again made me shiver and shake, but I knew I had to do it!
Brambles make the most beautiful jam, and the next day we were busy boiling for quite some time. The Belgians love their bread, and with this home made jam, and Irma's self baked bread, it was small wonder that I did not bulge like a bullfrog after the two months with the children. Then Irma spotted some 'flier besse', I don't know what it is called in English, and we set out again with plenty of bags to fill, and I must say, the cycling was becoming a lot more comfortable! Then it was again operation jam cooking!
On weekends we drove to distant places, and we went to a place called Staden, where my dad came from, as my maiden name was van Staden. We also went to Dinant, in the French part of Belgium, to have a look at a small town called le Roux, my mother's maiden name. It was nice to see where my family came from, but sad, as the French Protestants were of course murdered by the Catholics in France, and the ones that escaped the killings, fled all over the world. Belgium did not know what to do with them, and a lot were sent to the then Dutch owned Cape of Good Hope in South Africa. I must say, I felt very much at home over there!

After one tremendously nerve wracking cycle, meaning getting off about twenty times, pushing the bicycle passed the waiting cars, blushing at the incredulous looks that was given, and some nasty ones, we reached the river! And there was this wonderful cycle road, with no cars allowed! I still was a wee bitty scared, as a lot of cyclists were out on their morning run, and as the little road was so narrow, I still got off when I saw a group approaching, and very nonchalantly looked at the views, hoping that I indeed looked like a salted cyclist, just enjoying the countryside. Irma was much amused, but later on she got a bitty impatient, but I just kept my upper lip stiff, and tried not to fall off the bicycle!
The brambles were indeed giving there best, and the branches were loaded with beautiful ripe berries! Of course we just saw the berries, and not what was underneath the bushes, and soon we were both running in circles, our legs on fire! We never noticed that the low vegetation underneath the bramble bushes were nettles, and soon our poor legs were all red and swollen, and SORE!!
But being 'hardy' South Africans, we ooh and aah-ed until the pain had subsided, and then tried to flatten the nettles enough so we could reach the bally berries, which was winking and glittering in their full glory! It was not the end of the pain, the nettles having a wonderful ability to jump back up just when we leaned over them, our bellies exposed, and gave us a good swipe, sending us off screaming and doing a fair bit of swearing!
We were quite upset when another couple stopped, took two huge bags from their saddle bags, and started filling them up. As we had already flattened the nettles, they had a lot less to cope with than the two of us, and besides that, they were expert berry pickers, avoiding the sharp thorns of the bramble bush with a lot more ease than we did!
But it was a brilliant morning, the sun giving its best, and afterwards we found a nice spot where we just lay on the gras, Irma thinking nice thoughts, as her face were serene and calm, while I was suddenly hit by the hideous thought that I had soon to go on the road again! the thought that this time I had a loaded saddlebag was quite disconcerting, and quite spoiled the wonderful sunshine and views for me!