I picked the last of the rampant pumpkins, and boy, am I glad that it was at last stopping to bear more fruit. My freezer is so overstacked with the stuff that I hardly have place for anything else. I have experimented a lot as my plants was really doing their utmost, and although I gave away a lot, I was still swamped with this overeager pumpkins. At first I just peeled and cleaned them, and then cut them into cubes to freeze, but as that takes up a lot of space, I decided to make pumpkin fritters, which can be stacked, and don't take such a lot of space. Then I just I started boiling it, mash it up, and froze it in small containers, enough for two meals. In South Africa we eat a lot of sweet stuff with our meals. It had changed the last couple of years, but I still sometimes make a meal like my mum did. That means stewed meat, red or chicken, with potatoes, carrots, beans and just anything you like! This is usually a bitty overcooked, as the meat has to be very tender, although the veggies are put in later. Sometimes this is curried, and we have a lovely prepared curry powder, Cartwrights, that is delicious, and don't really need anything else. My generation had started experimenting with different options, and I nowadays have a huge glass container filled with every spice on the planet that I can use.  Anyway, we kind of stew our pumpkin and sweet potatoes with lots of sugar and butter, until it caramalises, and we even put in a little ginger or cinnamon sometimes. It is a delicious accompaniment for our rich stews and rice, and it is small wonder that we are not the heaviest people on earth.
So yesterday I had cooked up another batch of pumpkin that was left over after my bottles ran out, as I had now started bottling the stuff. I had to knead my two weekly batch of bread, and while I was getting everything together, my eyes fell on the cooked pumpkin. I decided to mash it up, and put it into my bread dough, wondering if it would make a nice batch of bread.
The bread came out beautifully, a lovely soft yellow colour, and don't even taste very sweet! I kept on 'tasting' all through the afternoon, and actually finished a whole loaf by bedtime!
The weather must have been just perfect for pumpkins this year, as only a few people appreciated a gift of a pumpkin, the other having the same bumper crop as myself.
The preparation of the winter veggie beds are coming on nicely, but I will have to do all the work myself, as I refuse to take Nicky back. He is the man I usually take on for a day now and then, as he is one of the guys who drinks so much that the farmers won;t take him on for the fruit picking, and sometimes turns up at my place quite drunk. He had become very militant suddenly since the ANC had taken Haarlem during the last election, and if I tell him what I want done, he will tell me shortly that he can see what must be done, I don't have to tell him, and then gets cross when he had not done what I wanted, and gets a scolding! Like the last time.
I asked for all the weeds to be dugged out, but found later that he had just done a small piece, and the rest was just hacked off! The problem is that most people here have no idea about democracy, and if a party for instance offers them a food hamper every Xmas, they will vote for that party. That is why we will never have a democratic government.

I am so glad the fruit picking is over, as now we would get garden workers again. All the able men work on the farms during this time, leaving only the old and alcohol infused for us to pick from. so we do everything ourselves! Nicky, the guy who always works for me came yesterday, and I almost sang out loud I was so glad. My beds for the winter veggies have to be sorted, and fast.
A while ago Joy again spoke to me about the three hundred year old pepper tree that she wants out. 'And,' she said pulling herself up to her full five feet, I'I found out that this tree is on the list of trees to be destroyed.' As this tree had not as much as put out one shoot around it in all this years, I went onto the internet to see if that was indeed true.  Where she got her info from I don't know, as I found that there are two completely different species of Pepper trees, the one here being the Calofornian Pepper. The other one is indeed an invasive tree, the Brazilian Pepper. It is more of a shrub, bearing red berries that is poisonous, and it spreads very rapidly, invading huge areas.
I told Joy this, and she just looked mutinous, and told me that she believed her informant, and anyway, she said, she also had a look in some tree book!
But as there is no comparison between this two trees, our one being a huge tree with a trunk of about six meters around, with very fine feathery leaves, and the Brazilian one has long shiny ones, I could not see how she got to her conclusion.
She told me that anyway, she was busy cultivating an indigenous garden, and did not want the tree. I go walking a lot in the mountains, and here, where we have little rain in the Karroo, the smaller plants grow under the bigger plants and shrubs. I almost begged her not to have the tree killed, but she again looked mutinous, and said: 'Hello-o-o? My place!' I was in a state of depression, as I so loved this old lady that have stood for about three hundred years, and in which shade we had so many delightful family gatherings!
As Joy has a doctorate in Zoology, I just assumed that she would not only be knowledgeable about fauna, but also know something about flora. When she first moved in, and she told me that the old Willow must go, I was surprised, and told her that it was no Willow, but a three hundred year old Pepper. I am really worried, and prayed every night that she would realise the history and beauty that she was going to destry, as this tree was planted by the first settlers in Haarlem. I found a few pictures of some of the branches of the old tree,and on one of these Andreas sits playing underneath it.

The tiny baby Emil has now grown to be the most beautiful and ondeunde little boy. He was three years old in April, and in three days time it will be three years since the tragedy of his mummy dying in a car crash. They came to visit with me this past week-end, and both the boys just love it here. Andreas, the ten year old cries every time they have to leave. I think it is just the freeedom of movement that they have here, as Andreas brings his bicycle with, and he and Sheila's grandsons are cruising the dusty Haarlem roads all week-end long. The little one has to be watched all the time, because he can crawl through the gate, and when he sees an animal outside grazing, as the animals here do, he sneaks away and runs after them.
But life here is getting just a bit uncomfortable. A few days ago,  at 9.30 on the Saturday night, I was sitting at my computer, which is in my bedroom, and right behind the door, when there was a kind of a timid knock on the door. I sat listening, thinking that it was the wind rattling the door, but then there was another knock, this time a bit louder, and by this time I was suspicious, and just a bitty afraid. When a third knock, this time a lot louder came, I raised my voice to a nice level, and shouted that who-ever was out there, better run and run fast, as I was getting my gun ready. I did run for my safe to get the gun. It was pitch dark outside, and as my house was surrounded by trees and shrubs, I couldn't see anybody, so I switched on all the lights, then tried to phone the police, but as things are here, the two on night duty must have been at the shebeen, or fast asleep. I heard from Berty, the woman who was nanny to little Emil, and from some other people, that the police join into the fun at the shebeens. A shebeen is an illegal place mainly for drinking, and there are some pretty horrible stories about under age young girls getting drunk and raped.
I went back to bed at about two in the morning, but sleep just would not come. My house is quite secure, with safety doors to every entrance, and thick safety bars in front of the windows, so coming in would be difficult, but as the saying goes, where there's a will, there's a way!
My scalp however crawled when Joy went to the municipality a few days later, and was told that someone was murdered some days ago. I have written in one of my blogs about mad Larry, who sleeps in his one roomed house, a large enough shed, with all his animals, including two pigs, safely locked up with him. Well, it was mad Larry that was beaten to death with a hammer, and mad Larry's house was next to Sheila, who is my next door neigbour!
This time of year Haarlem is teeming with pickers from all over, and there are always a lot of break-ins when they are around, and as soon as they leave, things go quiet again, with still some break-ins, but not half as bad! Poor old mad Larry must have opened his door to one of them, as he was never seen after dark, as when dusk falls, like me, he locked himself and his animals in. I am still getting quite shivery thinking about that knocks on my door. Now my children are all nagging me to go back to the city, but I just can't even think about being cooped up in a small yard, maybe in a flat.

Not even the big five could be as destructive as the tiny members of our wild life here in South Africa. The damage the small birds are doing to my roof is immense, and even loving all wild creatures with all my heart, I will at this moment happily wring all this birdies's little necks! And clever! I watched this Finch sitting on my wooden fence, and he was kind of singing like a strange song for a Finch, all the time watching the house with beady eyes! I ran to get my camera, and when I came back he was still chirping, but now there was a few different notes thrown in. I watched in awe, as suddenly his whole song changed, and when that happened, a whole bally flock of Finches descended on my roof from the mighty old Pine tree. Threw camera down and ran for my catapult! So now I spend my mornings shooting stones at the thieving birds, who just fly away to the tree, coming back chirping excitedly the moment my back is turned! Luckily for me, the two crows who nest in the tree usually came back from their hunting expeditions during mid morning, and as the Finches have much more respect for them as for me, they leave till the next morning.
There is also a lot of baboons on the rampage at this time of the year. The apple picking is now just over, and the moment the pickers leave, the baboons move in. There is always some undersized or stung apples left, and as food is scares up in the dry mountains, this apples are of much value to them. The problem is that they wreck the trees, tearing off branches! The farmers now have a kind of an alarm that goes off when the Babboons move in, but that makes for some loss of sleep many a night as the sound of that is earsplitting! My new neigbour is quiet about cutting down the old Pepper tree, so I sincerely hope that she had forgotten all about it. She had gone to Port Elizaneth to get the Labrador puppy, which is the sweetest little thing. Joy called her Sweetpea, and I have never seen such a clever pup in all of my life. Only about eight weeks old, I saw her stumble down the many steps leading into the garden, made a pee or otherwise, then scramble up the steps again. All this with lots of effort! Seeing this pup frollicking around, made me so sad, as I really miss old Hendrik, Irma's Labrador who died in my house. He was buried with a huge bunch of Arum lilies in his arms down on the river bank, but during one of the big floods we get here, all traces of his grave had disappeared. But Hendrik lives on, as a whole bunch of almost Labradors are walking the streets of Haarlem. Think he was one busy male!
My artist friend Johan and me went on a photo taking trip in the mountains, and this is one high up. On the top photo, if one take a good look, the Finch is sitting!

If you haven't been living in South Africa ever, you will never understand the different people living here. And the most colouful and irrisponsible of all the different groups are the coloured people, who had as forefathers some of the old Dutch, Scottish, English, German and other Caucasians  that came over here for a new life in 1652, and most without wives, they took some of the Koi girls as wives!  Well, 1652 is when the Dutch came, the others came later, but they are the reason for our coloured group.
yesterday I had to go to george for some provisions, and after the hundred and forty km drive, I desperately needed a toilet, so I stopped at a small square where I have long ago used the public toilets, and they were always nice and clean.
This morning however, What met my eyes at entering, made them pop a wee bit, as at the only remaining handbasin, the other two having seen better days some time ago, with a huge crack in the one, and no taps on the other, was being used by the strangest creature, who was so vigorously brushing his or her teeth, that the toothpaste flew across the place in sticky drops. It was a cross dressing man, dressed all in ladies clothes, and he must have been a traveller or something like that, maybe homeless, for next to him was a weathered sportsbag, with a long black wig draped over it, ready I suppose to put on after he or she had done her ablution.
All the toilets were taken, and I stood just outside the door to evade the flying toothpaste, but the toilets stayed closed, no sound coming out of there. The cross dresser had enough, I think he was tired of me standing outside, and started shouting abuse at the women in the toilets, and suddenly they appeared to have voices, and the battle of the words that now followed was indeed enlightening! I will not repeat that, as it is quite bad, but still quite entertaining. I decided to leave and drive to the mall with my by now aching bladder, but mr Gay had no intention it seemed to allow anyone to do me out of a pee, and he ordered the young girl standing outside smoking, and who seemed to be the the caretaker, to unlock a door which had a huge yale lock keeping its contents safe. She at first refused, but my do gooder was intent not to let me go without using a toilet. I told her not to worry, and started to leave, but she suddenly decided to open that door for me.
When I came out, and wanted to wash my hands, I saw with horror that my friend was washing some aalso weathered

underpants in the only basin, and he looked at me, and told me that a "girl must be clean, don't you think?" But he was by now intent on doing the right thing by me, so he opened the tap, and told me to wash quickly. I very gingerly held my hands under the running tap, and quickly rinsed them.
I was giggling for a long time after that, but also sad and have quite a warm feeling for that poor misguided human, who took up battle for me!

I just love the animals that eat their way around the village!

Joy, my new neigbor had decided to get herself a companion in the form of a Labrador. She went onto the internet, and found some breeder, but the cost of one puppy was astronomical. My granddaughter Kristani, one terribly passionate and sometimes indiscrimanate lover of all animals, heard about joy's wish for a Labrador, and she phoned me with the news that at the spca kennels in Humansdorp, they have a lovely ten month old, fully trained  Labrador, whose people moved to Australia, and couln't take him with.I told Joy about it, she gave me one very fierce stare, and said : "thank you, but I will get my own dog!" Self felt very bad, only wanted to help her and the lovely ten month old pup!
During the past few months I had ample time to get to know Joy's traits and funny sides, the sides we all have. She is fiercely jealous of all her posessions, and when she spoke to me about her veggy garden, and I thought to give her some advice, me having tried and failed, and tried and conquered some, she pulled herself up to her very skinny height of about five one, narrowed her eys, and said: "Halo-o-o! MY garden!" So self retreated hastily to lick my stung self confidence. Never again would I try and be helpful.
She and Ronalee started off quite hands around the bladder, as we say, it just doesn't make as much sense as when said in Afrikaans, and Ronalee, who do not have many friends came daily, bringing plants, and fruit, and veggies. I was glad that Ronalee had taken her under her wing, as she was very knowledeable about what grows here, and what not. But the love affair did not last very long, and the daily visits started getting less and less. I wonder if she also said to Ronalee what she said to me!
Apart from some strange ways we get along really well. Thing is, I myself can also be a bitty strange sometimes! Not in the same way though.
Today was a lovely sunny day, and I started off in the garden with much gusto, but less energy. But as the morning wore on, and I cleared all the clinging Morning Glories that had sprung up while I was away and was intent on strangling all my plants, I felt better and better, the exercise doing me really good. I was very passive for the last month while in Cape Town, although I had given Stephan and Trienkie's garden a make-over. Will have to get fit again, but when the wind blows sleety rain around the freezing plot, I just do not want to go out and get fit! We have very cold and wet winters in this area.
It is now time to plant broad beans, beans and all the brassicas, and I just have to get rid of the weeds. While I was away they had a field day, and my veggie plot, that I try and keep free of weeds, are overgrown with pesty little weedies! The pumpkins are still producing, and at the moment there are four fair sized ones growing fatter by the day. But coming home after a long absense might be a bitty bad on seeing the weeds, but oh, the scene welcoming one when you turn off the main road is just breataking!

Nature is indeed a wondrous thing, and if you keep your eyes open to this wonderful world of us, you are bound to see some pretty strange happenings.
In my previous post I wrote about the house martins wrecking my thatch roof, and it worried me a lot, as the rainy season had just started, and there are quite a few more leaks for me to plug.
So this morning I heard this very agitated birdsong on my roof, grabbed my catapult, and without giving a thought to my bare feet, I unlocked the two locks I have on my door for safety. There was a flock of birds on the roof, kwettering raucously, and pulling with vengeance on my poor thatch! But this time it wasn't only the House-martins, but a big flock of finches had seen the benefits of this handy material, and joined in the fun! I let rip with some decent sized stones, and the birds then flew to Sheila's roof, also thatched, and started their deed of destroying there.
I saw the Finches fly into the huge old Pine tree with their loot, and the House-martins underneath Bush's roof with theirs and the thought of this birdies nesting there from now on, my roof just so handy for any repair work, made my ruined hair stand on end. But then, at about ten o'clock, the two black crows that had been nesting in that tree for a few years now, returned from where-ever they went hunting, and suddenly all hell broke loose. The crows were furious, and in their kind of hoarse, earsplitting cries, they started chasing the smaller birds, whose nests were just starting to take shape. I had no sympathy because of my ruined thatch, but must admit, if I went to so much trouble building a house, and then was chased away, I would be devastated , I would need some sympathy. So I did  sympathize just a teeny bit!
I decided to get my binoculars to have a better look at what was happening in the tree, as the smaller birds were now flying around and dive bombing the crows, which in their turn made a terrible racket!
It was quite a horrible scene that met my eyes! The crows were hopping from nest to nest, grab it between their sharp beaks, then shake it until the thatch and some finer grass, and a few feathers floated down to the ground! It was such a horrible sight, and I now felt so sorry for the birds, that I shot a few nice stones up the tree, Unfortunately it did not reach high enough, and the crows just went raucously on their way of destruction!
It is seriously becoming winter now, and I have to plug all the openings where the windows and doors did not close properly. I should have had this fixed already, and did indeed do a lot of the work myself, but there are just some things that a woman alone can't do. The tree on the right is the bone of contention, and just across the road from me.