2nd October 2008. Marchand. ZA


OK..so almost a month in and it most defiantly does not feel like being on holiday, despite most days averaging around 30+ degrees, our highest day so far has been 35 degrees and it felt like being under a grill all day. The farmer who’s guest house we have been living in, told me that when Summer really hits [in December] the temperature is daily in the 40`s, accompanied by a hot wind. It seems the locals relish the task of frightening visitors & potential residents with tales of extreme weather conditions. I have in the recesses of my mind that every day I am acclimatizing as the temperature slowly creeps upwards. Bee, very sensibly, snoozes through the hotter days, making the most of early mornings and late evenings, when she takes a stroll through the vines which surround the guest house.

Her “Doggles” have arrived and she is VERY unhappy in them, she doesn’t understand that she is meant to keep her eyes open, once they are on and insists on keeping them tightly shut and therefore walks into walls,vines,metal poles etc, as a result she feels that everyone/thing is assaulting her the moment that she is forced to wear them ,hence her reluctance to have them fitted each day, which I insist on doing for at least half an hour in the hope that eventually common sense will prevail and she will open her eyes!

It looks as though we will move to our new next door neighbors’ farm on Friday; he has offered us a “small” cottage on his farm, whilst ours remains uninhabitable. Things are looking brighter on this front, there are about 12 men working on site every day with 5 or 6 visiting tradesmen. Things are happening, the air co system is being fitted [thank the Lord, in view of my opening comments!] most of the tiling to the main floors of the house is done. Electrics in the process of and I’m now charged with choosing finishes for the walls.

Moses, is our man “who does”, he is our handyman, our security, at his own behest our gardener, he is certainly as tall as Big, and twice as wide. I imagine he is in his late 30`s, never seen without a white beanie hat. Despite speaking about three words of English, he manages to make Little and I laugh, he is something of a comedian and we have begun to like him a lot, despite his calling me “Missus” every time he sees me. I have decided there is no changing it and have simply chosen to accept with as much grace as possible
my new title.
It causes me a great deal of delight that Moses calls Big “Bossy”........ never was a man more
aptly named and I have to stifle whoops of delight, whenever Moses speaks to Bossy.

A few days ago I had two of the ladies from the factory, helping scrub some of the huge windows, we were getting through jay cloths at a rate, so these were being rinsed and hung to dry before they were put to use again, I happened to be walking around a corner of the house to find Moses and Edwin cleaning down the sides of a very dusty Quad..with our clean Jay cloths…the embarrassed grin that stretched across Moses face was enough to make even the stroppiest of souls laugh. Suddenly he found another English word ‘Sorry Missus”…”Sorry Missus”…his apology was very half hearted and mixed with guffaws from both Edwin and him…they were like naughty little school boys.

I started pruning a great bed of roses in the garden which were looking very sorry for themselves [clearly someone has loved this garden!but a few years ago now], whilst I am no great fan of rose beds I cant just stand by and let these go to rack and ruin…amidst all this heat and sand and dust they stand in a bed of good top soil with good Irrigation and I rather admire them.
I started to severely prune them [August is really the month for pruning here], Moses came racing up to me, his eyes as wide as side plates…”No Missus..No missus”, trying to wrestle the pruned pieces of rose out of my gloved hands, causing us both to be scratched. He bustled off with an armful of rose and spoke to Big on his way past…Edwin laughed and returned to me,”Moses is shocked to see a white women working in the garden.”,my response…”tell him he better get used to it!”, the next time I visited the farm, Moses had taken it upon himself to complete the job! He had used a pen knife, and a most unusual technique of taking out all the new growth, and leaving all the straggly old growth…because…he later told Edwin in Afrikaans they had rose buds on them. He also decided to plant onions between the rows of roses!!!!Clearly he enjoys being in the garden, we have now pruned the rest of the roses together and he has
weeded several flower beds amidst all his other duties. I have asked Big to explain that we will plant a vegetable patch where his onions can go as soon as we are settled in the farm.

Yesterday we were in the huge storage facility which sits outside of the fence of the farm, by the side of the vineyard. Big has purchased some very dodgy furniture that he has picked up at the Port on Cape Town, through a friend, ex damaged shipping stock. I have told him NONE of it is going into the farm….all looks very corporate as though destined for offices. He is cool about this saying he purchased it to sell locally. We were standing in this vast place with Moses, moving some bits around, when he started to screech at the top of his voice and become extremely agitated, grabbing a handy iron bar from the floor. I immediately thought it was a snake and my fight flight instinct was also starting to kick in, when I saw what all the drama was about…a gecko..about 4 inches long. I promise he was absolutely petrified of it….Edwin had to grab at the flailing iron bar to prevent the instant death of the gecko [and potential smashing of several of the old windows removed from the farm and being stored here] Moses is meant to protect us from all evils…and it does not bode well. At the weekend his son “Smallie” arrived for a weeks school holidays, Smallie is about 7 and Moses is very proud of him, Little is getting very irritated by Smallie, who follows him like a shadow and copies every single word Edwin sais..its like having a parrot shadowing you, I can imagine how irritating it is but I have had to explain to Little, that this kid has come from a small community deep in the wilderness of Kwazulu land and hasn’t seen a white kid in his life.

Such a huge culture shock for us with every part of the population here, still trying to get to grips with it all, the first major one was that the South African kisses hello on the lips [they are kept shut you’ll be pleased to hear], no air kisses on each cheek, just a simple smakeroonie on the lips!!!!! Somewhat overwhelming to start with but I’m getting the hang of things, Little gets smackeroonies on the lips from the farmers wives and great bear hugs from the farmers..all physical contact is unrestrained and BIG. Their hospitality is similar..unrestrained and big…we have been to so many different peoples houses for Braais and lunches and suppers I have lost track now. Everyone jousting for our time…I`m making the most of it because I`m sure that they will be bored sick of us in a few weeks time.

WE were invited to the opening of Kakensteins only hotel "THE GATEWAY TO THE KALAHARI" ..catchy name !!, who had refurbished their outside eating area, and had employed the services of a South African rock star and something of a local celeb , judging by the delight in every ones eyes when they spoke of "Wille Windpomp" and the opening of the "Kalahari Braai area" { remember that the "W" here is pronounced as a "V", which makes this name even more hysterical]. So to the evening of rock and celebration..... about 50 or so local farmers their children and various others..Willie was very "cow boy" with gingham shirt, overly tight high waisted denims[the sort that leave very little to the imagination...fortunately it gets dark here at 7.00] , he arrived for his performance, fashionably late, by which time most of the ensemble were gagging with excitement. The moment he started to play [what I would describe as very"soft rock"indeed] I was amazed to see couples taking to the dance floor, they didn't engage in soft rocky kind of dancing, but very formally clasped each other and began waltzing and/or foxtrotting to the soft rock our friend "Villie" was putting out. I kept having to blink very hard and reassure myself we were not in some kind of parallel universe. Little could not suppress his giggles of delight. The hardest rock of the night was Villies version of Shaky Stephens "This Little House".

This Sunday, we depart for Cape Town as Little starts at Bishops on Monday, he has to be there suitably “suited and booted” for 5.30 in the afternoon. So we will have Sunday night at the Waterfront and a luxury evening in the Winchester Mansions [ one of our favorite hotels] then off first thing on Monday to sort out the kitchen work surfaces, our last lunch for a little while together.Then a mooch around for some replacement PJ`s for Little...his being in a box in a bonded warehouse at the port,awaiting customs clearance.

Will keep you up to date with progress, love to all
“Missus”,”Bossy” “Little”& Bee