Peace of Land

We got ourselves a piece of land.

The soil is clay.  Very hard.  Not easy to work with.  

But that’s how it rolls with us.  Usually a bit of effort and a little googling pulls us through.

And God knows;  we are willing.  Willing to put in what it takes to make it work.  To bring out the magic.

Cause the magic is there…  Underneath the clay.  Inbetween the falling walls of the barn and the broken glass windows.

The magic is very much there.

Visuals of huge glass bell jars, covering rows of crisp lettuce to protect it from insects enters my mind’s eye when I go to bed.

Shelves bending under stacks of white porcelain vases and bowls, goblets and plates, from floor to ceiling.

The contrast of shine and glitz against earth, trees and water.  The sweet balance.  Our land of peace.

 

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I was always here, even if you could not see me…

Sounds like something God would say.

 

Well, now I’m here AND you can see me!

I blame facebook for my absence.  Being an expressionist, I need to share what I feel, what I live and what I think.

Having a fb account makes it so easy to quickly sign on and update your status (- in FB language). Or click on ‘comment’ and make your comments heard.  Or, if you are not too expressive, but like what you see on a friends status, you simply click ‘like’.  Easy peasy…  Minimal thinking involved. 

Before you know it minutes and hours has passed and you have nothing to show for the morning.  Except perhaps a like or 3.

 

The good news is that I have swopped my facebook account for wordpress.  Hopefully I will write more entertaining, more constructive and more appropriate updates here. 

I’d like to leave you with the following bit of truth about me.  If you do not like what you read, now might be a good time to sign out of my blog….

 

I sleep naked.

I drink my wine from a cooldrink glass and my champagne from a wine glass.

I laugh out loud with my mouth wide open and often I speak while I eat.

Usually I forget to close the bathroom door and only realise it when my panties are on my ankles. 

 

tata! till next time.

 

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Yayh!!! For knowing. Yayh!!! for understanding! Yayh, Yayh, Yayh!!!

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One of my sure beliefs in life is to fake it till you make it.  So now I’m faking because I know that I’ll make it. I’m faking because I do actually understand where all this insecurity and lack of decision making comes from. I can fake excitement, because I know that this too shall pass (so I’ve heard and so I have experienced more that a dozen times.) Cause that’s life, hey – everything ‘passes’ at the end. Ons maak maar almal geraamtes groot volgens Opperman in Jorik.

I need to do something creative to lift me out of this … this , what do we call it? This mood?  No, its not a mood. A mood has to do with hormones :-). Its a mere dip. A natural dip in such an unnatural life situation. 

So what will I do.  Cook supper?  Make a quilt?  Write to you?  Drink some wine and forget a little?  Believe it or not, but being the phenomenal woman I am, I’ve chosen 3 out of the above 4. 

The quilt exercise will have to wait until I see color again.

Oh my! I am being so very rude!  Talk talk talk about myself!!!  But I have heard that I write about the things you guys(girls) feel.  I hope then, that with this honest letter to you, I will help somehow. 

‘Cause to feel psychologically awful is NATURAL. To allow people and circumstances to get the better of you, is NORMAL.  Who ever said “don’t sweat the small stuff” isn’t human!  So say I!    We are all skeletons covered with beauty.  We feel and hurt, thirst and laugh about the same things!

Okay! So I’ve chosen to cook supper,  have some wine and write to you.   The wine was poured from a box!  The writing to you is what you are busy reading.  All that’s left is to share my oH SO creative mood-lifting dinner with you.

TUNA!!!

PASTA!!!

Which is easier, more heart-warming and energy packed?  Aaahhh, WTFrikkadel!  Let’s throw it all together. 

By having tuna twice a week you could raise your omega 3 levels at least as effectively as a daily fish oil supplement.  I must admit, I prefer tuna to a little pill!   This helps prevent heart disease and inflammation.  Controls high blood pressure, prevents  strokes, Thrombosis and obesity.

Pasta is great for carbo-loading wich helps with any endurance activity, and gives you a great Italian accent!

So!

1.  Get yourselves a packet of macaroni.

2.  2 tins of tuna. I like the oily one.

3. Pick some fresh parsley. And remember as I said before, if you don’t have fresh herbs, come pick from my garden!

4.  2 large onions! Crucial!!

5. A hint of garlic – according to taste.

– Cook the macaroni ‘al dente’.

– Cut onions into rings and cook in a pan in a bit of water till translucent.

– Add the tuna to the onion – Oil and all!

– Add garlic. (If desired)

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Fry together for about 10minutes,  then add the pasta and parsley to the tuna and onion. 

Heat up for a few seconds, making sure not to over-cook the pasta. 
Serve this dish with a lovely green
salad.  Avocado really compliments the tuna.

All and all, this dish is simple though full of soft flavors, making it easy for the whole family to enjoy – and more than likely they’ll come back for seconds!

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Hallo Pa

My kinders is groot en pragtig Pa.  Pa sou so trots gewees het op hulle.  Ben was mos maar 6 toe die engel Pa kom haal het.  So verskriklik vroeg en gou.  Pa was toe maar ‘n skrale 15 jaar ouer aswat ek nou is.  Ek kan myself nie eers halfpad indink hoe dit sou wees om nog net 15 jaar te he om my lewe te leef en my drome na te jaag nie.  Ek raak sommer helemal benoud net aan die idee!

Ek het Pa altyd gehaat.  My hele lewe lank.  ‘n Mens raak groot met die woorde; ‘eendag as jy groot is sal jy verstaan.”  Ek het gedink dis blote bog (ek sou gese het ‘blote kak’ as ek nou nie met Pa gepraat het nie.  Pa was so anaal).  Ma se altyd vir my  ‘Jy’s nes jou Pa’,  en dan stry ek; ‘ek kan tog nie so narrow-minded en behep met wit en swart wees nie!’.  Die funny ding is; vandag is ek op happy-pille sodat ek kleur kan sien.  Maar ek en Ma praat al lankal nie meer nie.  Ek sal Pa eendag daarvan vertel.  Al wat ek vir nou gaan se is dat Pa haar hopeloos te vroeg alleen gelos het.  Sy was nog glad nie gereed om ‘n weduwee te wees nie.

Pa, ek weet nie wat Pa rerig van my verwag het nie.  Ek kon nie anders as om eerlik te wees met myself en my Skepper nie, en dit het my so ietwat op ‘n ongewone paadjie gestuur.  Ek is nie getroud met ‘n polisieman of ‘n bankbestuurder nie, Pa.  Ek kook nie rys, vleis en aartappels as ‘n reel nie, en ek is jammer om te erken, ek gaan nie elke Sondag kerk toe soos Pa ons geleer (en gedwing het) om te doen nie.   Pa, my neus brand en my oe werk hard om die keyboard te sien want soos ek nou hier sit is ek redelik emosioneel.  Onthou Pa hoe jy altyd gehuil het in die kerk as ons mooi liedere gesing het.  Ma het haar so vervies daarvoor.  Vandag doen ek dieselfde en ek het niemand nodig om hulle te vervies vir my nie.  Ek doen dit sommer self!

Ek het een verskriklike mooi prentjie in my kop Pa.  Dis een van Pa wat my op jou heup vashou toe ek so 5 jaar oud was.  Ek het so ‘n sjiffonnerige pienk rokkie aan. (dit was my verjaarsdag as ek reg onthou).  My lang  hare het spierwit oor my rug gehang. Maar wat ek die beste onthou van die dag is hoe Pa in my oe gekyk het.  Ek dink nie Pa het ooit weer so vir my gekyk nie.

Onthou Pa al die fights Sondae langs die etenstafel?  Ek sou of my mes en vurk verkeerd vashou, of ek het met ‘n ryskorrel in my mond gepraat.  Ek dink nog steeds dis absoluut absurd! Rerig!  En dis presies waaroor die fights gegaan het; ek wat nie my mond kon hou en liewer daai ryskorrel kou nie!  Nee, ek wou my punt maak.  Ons sou seker vandag nog stry as Pa geleef het. 

Ag, soms mis ek Pa so.  Pa was nie eers hier om my die kerk in te bring nie.  Pa is nie hier om my kinders te leer ghitaar speel en vir hul te sing nie.  My dogter is darem mal oor Elvis!  Maar niemand luister meer na Elvis nie, Dis nou Lady Gaga en Karen Zoid.  Pa sal hulle nie ken nie… Ek hoor ook maar net die klanke so uit die kinders se kamers kom.  Pa sal nie glo nie! Jy dink die cd was ‘n verbetering op die ou langspeelplate.  Vandag het my kinders 3000 liedjies op so klein silwer dingetjie wat hulle ‘n ipod noem. Dis redelik impressive, al moet ek dit self se!

Wat doen Pa deesdae daarbo?  Speel Pa ghitaar saam met ander Pa’s wat te vroeg hul dogters verlaat het?  Gesels julle oor ons?  Sou Pa dit anders doen as Pa kon terugkom?  Of het Pa al teruggekom? (as Pa my nou hoor word ek vasgevat!  Re-inkarnasie is beslis van die duiwel!  Maar ek wonder maar net, Pa.  Wonder maak nie van my ‘n slegte mens nie… Of is ek verkeerd?)

Wonder maak mos nie van my ‘n slegte mens nie… of is ek verkeerd?

 

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Saronsberg… for the love of art and wine

We’ve had another quick day trip the other day.  I’ve been thinking of an angle on how to share these pics with you, but I am like a child who cannot keep a secret any longer.

Our destination was Tulbagh, more specifically;  Saronsberg Winery.

Without any further ado, here are the pictures of probably the most beautiful, relaxing wine cellar in the Western Cape.

I do not know the story of this cement/stone/brass woman, but I am sure it’ll be worth my while to find out.  Will share it as soon as I know…

View from the Tasting area…

Rustic and Modern, perfectly combined

Cobbled entrance to the Tasting Area and Cellar

The cellar is double volume with a private art collection upstairs.  For obvious reasons I didn’t take any pictures of this, but do yourself a favour – go and experience this absolute sense of tranquillity with a glass of the best pinotage EVER in your hands. It has been said by those in the know, that Dewaldt Heyns, the winemaker, is to be watched.  He’s approach to wine making is fresh, modern and exciting – perfectly in rhythm with the Saronsberg atmosphere.

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tomatoe and olive potatoes.

Good mood, good times, good friends, good food…

crisp tomato

I feel so much better after getting a few things off my chest.  Strange strange world we live in… Or shall I rather say – strange what we do to this world, to the people we care about and to ourselves.  Things shouldn’t be so complicated.  But that’s how it is…

At least we have tomatoes to make life better. Red cherry tomatoes, plum tomatoes, big, round, fat tomatoes, green tomatoes – oh, you name them.  They come in a variety of shapes and sizes, colours and flavours.

To celebrate my good mood I have decided on a very healthy meal for dinner.  As always it is simple to make, yet tasty.

You Need

8 baby sweet potatoes, halved

8 baby potatoes, halved

Enough cherry tomatoes to add flavour and colour. (I didn’t have any cherry tomatoes today, so I used ordinary tomatoes cut in quarters)

generous amount of olive oil

Garlic to taste

Leafs of one rosemary sprig

Black olives

Coarse sea salt

To Do

Toss everything together in a baking dish.

Bake in moderately hot oven until the potatoes are golden brown and the olives are crinkly.

This is an ideal all-in-one side dish to a braai or served with bangers as we will be enjoying it tonight.

Have a happy, healthy week!

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About last night’s Netball Dance.

So we were sitting at our fire – around 5 o clock in the afternoon.

Typical Saturday; Steve Hofmeyr singing in his coarse voice, tjoppies sizzling, boys kicking their rugby ball and Pipa running around filling our glasses with ice and the chips-bowl with chips…  All that was missing was a good old fashioned plaas dance.  Boy! I barely gave that thought some energy when ‘Ching’… a penny dropped,  a note hit and a voice whispered in my ear.  Tonight the Porterville Netball team is having their annual end of season Dance! Heee-Haaa! Be careful what you wish for…… You know what they say…

So gese, so gedaan.

Wat gaan ek aantrek.  Ek dra elke dag jeans.  Kry SO min die geleentheid om my neus te poeier en lippies rooi te verf!  Na ‘n paar minute se krap in my laaie kom ek af op my ever so classic matriekafskeidbroek van 1990.  En sowaar – 20jaar later pas hy beter as OOIT! Strappies toppie,  lekker hoe hakskoene vir daai 2-step moves, en siedaar!

Die landbousaal is verfraai met silwer strips wat die dak vol hang en  lazer beams wat in rooi, groen en blou al wat mens is soos ‘n robot laat lyk.  Groepies sit saam by staal tafels met swart tafeldoeke en plastiek stoele.  Same old, same old…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Die spyskaart het soos volg gelyk;  Broodtafel en Lasagne.

True to Porterville style the apricot jam was served in empty margarine tubs and the margarine was simply opened and placed on the table with a couple of knives stuck into it – no pretence.  As jy nie welkom gevoel het na die starter nie, was jy by die verkeerde party!

The lasagne was the best I have ever had.  Served with beautiful fresh garden salads and salad dressing.  I went back for seconds – something I NEVER do!

More than enough drinks to kill any thirst and lift any mood. Good old fashioned music and salt of the earth people.

I cannot help asking myself; Who wouldn’t just love to be a part of a community like this?

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