Spring has sprung and although we are currently cozying up in a cold spell, the signs of spring are all around. The beautiful colours of white and pink peach blossoms dot the Malealea valleys and hills, and walking through some areas of the lodge is like walking on a path of soft silky snow.
It is such a short period of time that this beauty surrounds us, and it could not be more appropriate to look at this season as the Japanese do. The sacred cherry blossoms are “a timeless metaphor for human existence. Blooming season is powerful, glorious and intoxicating, but tragically short-lived - a visual reminder that our lives, too, are fleeting.” (www.notwithoutmypassport.com)
It is such a short period of time that this beauty surrounds us, and it could not be more appropriate to look at this season as the Japanese do. The sacred cherry blossoms are “a timeless metaphor for human existence. Blooming season is powerful, glorious and intoxicating, but tragically short-lived - a visual reminder that our lives, too, are fleeting.” (www.notwithoutmypassport.com)
….a time to be born, and a time to die….
Calli’s puppies were born on the 18th of August. She sleeps next to my side of the bed, and at 2am in the morning I was awoken to the sound of a teeny tiny little squeak. Turning the light on, there was a wriggling little black thing, all alone on her mattress, trying to find it’s way back to it’s mommy. With much excitement I woke Michael and shortly after number 2 literally came popping out. We had started doing some reading up on puppies being born, and our readings turned out to be 100 % spot on. The baby arrives in a sack, and mom immediately tears it open, cleaning the baby from head to toe. At 3am, we decided to wake the children - one of the absolute joys of schooling at home, no worries about tired children the next day, and needless to say the school day was written off. By the time Gemma and Bryce came in there were 4 newborns. We left Thabo to sleep for a while.
It was a lovely experience being with Calli during the entire process. The only thing the readings didn’t tell us was the smell that comes with the birthing. We would know a puppy was arriving as a highly pungent smell would be released just before a new arrival. After baby 8 - at about 7am, the excitement was all over, we sent messages out to the family, cleaned her bed up and were getting ready for the day. That awful smell came again, and we all looked at each other and burst out laughing as baby no. 9 entered the world. It was really hard to keep track of who was who, so we will never know who no.9 was. Michael’s joke for the day…. He told me very excitedly that he found homes for all the puppies. He said he’s just off the phone to his German speaking great granny who doesn’t speak any English. He told her about the puppies, and asked her how many she wanted. Her answer was “nein.” LOL, on a serious note, thanks to Facebook we have found homes for all the adorable babies.
Calli’s puppies were born on the 18th of August. She sleeps next to my side of the bed, and at 2am in the morning I was awoken to the sound of a teeny tiny little squeak. Turning the light on, there was a wriggling little black thing, all alone on her mattress, trying to find it’s way back to it’s mommy. With much excitement I woke Michael and shortly after number 2 literally came popping out. We had started doing some reading up on puppies being born, and our readings turned out to be 100 % spot on. The baby arrives in a sack, and mom immediately tears it open, cleaning the baby from head to toe. At 3am, we decided to wake the children - one of the absolute joys of schooling at home, no worries about tired children the next day, and needless to say the school day was written off. By the time Gemma and Bryce came in there were 4 newborns. We left Thabo to sleep for a while.
It was a lovely experience being with Calli during the entire process. The only thing the readings didn’t tell us was the smell that comes with the birthing. We would know a puppy was arriving as a highly pungent smell would be released just before a new arrival. After baby 8 - at about 7am, the excitement was all over, we sent messages out to the family, cleaned her bed up and were getting ready for the day. That awful smell came again, and we all looked at each other and burst out laughing as baby no. 9 entered the world. It was really hard to keep track of who was who, so we will never know who no.9 was. Michael’s joke for the day…. He told me very excitedly that he found homes for all the puppies. He said he’s just off the phone to his German speaking great granny who doesn’t speak any English. He told her about the puppies, and asked her how many she wanted. Her answer was “nein.” LOL, on a serious note, thanks to Facebook we have found homes for all the adorable babies.
Sadly, our old man Janthy, is riddled with cancer. It started with a lump under his throat, and although he is still eating, he looks like a walking skeleton. It has come really quickly. There is only one vet that we know of in Lesotho, and he can only help us on Friday. Janthy has been an absolute legend of an animal. He was given to us in 2010, by two brothers James and Anthony, and has been the most loving, beautiful soul. He will be sadly missed, but his grandpa is waiting for him.
…….a time to weep, and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn, and a time to dance……
They say grief comes in waves. A song, a word uttered, an item of clothing, a photograph….. can all trigger deep emotions, and open up a flood of waterworks, or a heartache so sore that you just want the world to stop and embrace you, and you alone at that specific moment. It’s different for everyone I’m sure, but that is how I experience it.
In June last year my Grandfather (my mom’s dad) passed away at the age of 94. It was only his body that gave up on him, the rest of him was all there till the very end. He was a young man living in an old body. My sister was his first grandchild and couldn’t say grandpa. She called him Bunka, and the name stuck.
The last time I saw Bunka and spent time with him was at my cousin’s wedding in May last year. Thabo really wanted to wear a tie to the wedding so Bunka lent him his special Basutoland tie. He was so impressed with Thabo’s outfit, and he commented to me on how sad he was that men’s outfits for formal gatherings had changed so much over the years. He still felt it very important that a man should wear a tie.
Bunka was a true gentleman -a gentle man in all respects, and spread his love to all of his grandchildren and great grandchildren in equal parts - or so he made us all feel. If I can bring my boys up to be half the man he was, then I would have done my job as a mother. On my own, I don’t know if i could, but having Michael by my side, despite his crude sense of humour, is a true gentleman at heart. Although at times I don’t know if my boys are even human, with time I think the job can be done and I believe Bunka will be proud.
…..a time for war, and a time for peace.
The last 4 years were horrendous for our family, at least how I experienced it. My dad, being the kind man he was, got himself stuck right in the middle of lots of ugly. I don’t think my dad knew how to express love - he was love - but he didn’t know how to show it or tell it. It was for this reason, and I strongly believe it, that he payed the ultimate price. I believe he took on all the hurt from all sides and held it within. I believe the cancer, and the heart problems were manifested from all the pain he carried within.
….a time to love, and a time to hate,
4 years ago I lost my Dad - my Dad that I adored and loved with all my heart. I lost him to business and family politics. I was so angry and bitter about the “situation”, that although I tried to be there for him during his periods of illness, it wasn’t enough. It would never have been enough because I could not “let it all go.” I don’t know how or why I deserved it, but I, amongst a few others, had the honour of being there with him at the very end. Just before the end, his beautiful bright blue eyes opened one last time and I then held my hand on his heart and felt his beats slow down until they were no more.
The day he passed the first thing I did when I was alone was lie and listen to music. I played the same songs I’d played to him that I had YouTubed. YouTube randomly selected songs of a similar genre and I didn’t have to keep selecting songs. I grew up listening to Simon and Garfunkel, but had somehow never heard the song ‘Bright Eyes’ before. The song came up on the playlist, and I couldn’t help but be in that moment of my Dad’s passing again. In March, when I came back to the lodge, Tony, a regular tour guide who has become very much a part of the family, was here at the time.
When Tony is here he plays his guitar around the fire. He has an incredible talent and plays by ear - the only problem is, is that he only plays half a song. My Dad and Tony had a teasing relationship, and I can still hear him shouting to Tony from the other side, “Ag Man Tony, just finish the dam song.”
I was listening to Simon and Garfunkel in the bar, and Bright Eyes was playing. Tony walked in and said, “Ah man, this is the song that Mick always wanted me to play around the fire.”
There are moments now that I feel like my Dad is speaking to me. That was one of them.
Sadly Jax, who had been in Bloem to spend time with our Dad, had to go back to George shortly before he passed. As her, my aunt and myself were walking out of the hospital (shortly before she had to leave), she started humming “everything’s going to be ok,” and as we got closer to the car there were “Three Little Birds,” sitting on a fence just above the car, chirping away cheerily.
A very precious moment for me, and the last thing I heard my Dad say was this. My aunt (my mom’s sister), came to Bloem for a few days to see him. After some laughs and joking around he got very tired, and started slipping away to sleep. As Penni walked away I heard him say: “Bye Di (my mom), it was lovely seeing you again.” In that very precious split second it felt like my family was whole again.
I was doing some garden work, and cursing myself, as I hacked away at the tree I was pruning, regretting all the things I had said to my Dad and out of nowhere a beautiful white feather landed at my feet.
a time to mourn, and a time to dance……
They say grief comes in waves. A song, a word uttered, an item of clothing, a photograph….. can all trigger deep emotions, and open up a flood of waterworks, or a heartache so sore that you just want the world to stop and embrace you, and you alone at that specific moment. It’s different for everyone I’m sure, but that is how I experience it.
In June last year my Grandfather (my mom’s dad) passed away at the age of 94. It was only his body that gave up on him, the rest of him was all there till the very end. He was a young man living in an old body. My sister was his first grandchild and couldn’t say grandpa. She called him Bunka, and the name stuck.
The last time I saw Bunka and spent time with him was at my cousin’s wedding in May last year. Thabo really wanted to wear a tie to the wedding so Bunka lent him his special Basutoland tie. He was so impressed with Thabo’s outfit, and he commented to me on how sad he was that men’s outfits for formal gatherings had changed so much over the years. He still felt it very important that a man should wear a tie.
Bunka was a true gentleman -a gentle man in all respects, and spread his love to all of his grandchildren and great grandchildren in equal parts - or so he made us all feel. If I can bring my boys up to be half the man he was, then I would have done my job as a mother. On my own, I don’t know if i could, but having Michael by my side, despite his crude sense of humour, is a true gentleman at heart. Although at times I don’t know if my boys are even human, with time I think the job can be done and I believe Bunka will be proud.
…..a time for war, and a time for peace.
The last 4 years were horrendous for our family, at least how I experienced it. My dad, being the kind man he was, got himself stuck right in the middle of lots of ugly. I don’t think my dad knew how to express love - he was love - but he didn’t know how to show it or tell it. It was for this reason, and I strongly believe it, that he payed the ultimate price. I believe he took on all the hurt from all sides and held it within. I believe the cancer, and the heart problems were manifested from all the pain he carried within.
….a time to love, and a time to hate,
4 years ago I lost my Dad - my Dad that I adored and loved with all my heart. I lost him to business and family politics. I was so angry and bitter about the “situation”, that although I tried to be there for him during his periods of illness, it wasn’t enough. It would never have been enough because I could not “let it all go.” I don’t know how or why I deserved it, but I, amongst a few others, had the honour of being there with him at the very end. Just before the end, his beautiful bright blue eyes opened one last time and I then held my hand on his heart and felt his beats slow down until they were no more.
The day he passed the first thing I did when I was alone was lie and listen to music. I played the same songs I’d played to him that I had YouTubed. YouTube randomly selected songs of a similar genre and I didn’t have to keep selecting songs. I grew up listening to Simon and Garfunkel, but had somehow never heard the song ‘Bright Eyes’ before. The song came up on the playlist, and I couldn’t help but be in that moment of my Dad’s passing again. In March, when I came back to the lodge, Tony, a regular tour guide who has become very much a part of the family, was here at the time.
When Tony is here he plays his guitar around the fire. He has an incredible talent and plays by ear - the only problem is, is that he only plays half a song. My Dad and Tony had a teasing relationship, and I can still hear him shouting to Tony from the other side, “Ag Man Tony, just finish the dam song.”
I was listening to Simon and Garfunkel in the bar, and Bright Eyes was playing. Tony walked in and said, “Ah man, this is the song that Mick always wanted me to play around the fire.”
There are moments now that I feel like my Dad is speaking to me. That was one of them.
Sadly Jax, who had been in Bloem to spend time with our Dad, had to go back to George shortly before he passed. As her, my aunt and myself were walking out of the hospital (shortly before she had to leave), she started humming “everything’s going to be ok,” and as we got closer to the car there were “Three Little Birds,” sitting on a fence just above the car, chirping away cheerily.
A very precious moment for me, and the last thing I heard my Dad say was this. My aunt (my mom’s sister), came to Bloem for a few days to see him. After some laughs and joking around he got very tired, and started slipping away to sleep. As Penni walked away I heard him say: “Bye Di (my mom), it was lovely seeing you again.” In that very precious split second it felt like my family was whole again.
I was doing some garden work, and cursing myself, as I hacked away at the tree I was pruning, regretting all the things I had said to my Dad and out of nowhere a beautiful white feather landed at my feet.
Every day while my Dad was in ICU a red dragonfly would fly around our pool, in Bloemfontein, for hours. I hadn’t seen the dragon fly for a while after he passed. My cousin came for a visit, and as we sat outside talking about him, the red dragonfly appeared, and during our conversation flew to and from us.
On an evening walk here at Malealea, earlier in the year, I was with Thabo, and I’m not sure why but I asked out loud where Mr Dragonfly was. The next day, on the same walk, at exactly that spot a dragonfly with translucent wings appeared.
…..a time to keep, and a time to throw away,
My Dad didn’t own much. Some of his furniture, camping equipment, some odds and ends, and 3 boards with photographs stapled on were sent to the lodge. I spent a while holding onto his clothes. I know, though, that he would not have wanted that. He always wanted to give things away to those in need. He wanted his clothing to go to Ntate Rampe. Ntate Rampe is one of Malealea’s oldest and most experienced horse guides. He accompanied my Dad on his 18 day expeditions across Lesotho. Eventually, when I had the courage, I placed his clothing in 2 bags and handed them over to Rampe - who with a tear in his eye graciously accepted the gift.
I did hold onto my Dad’s walking stick and hiking hat and will continue to take the 2 items on our future adventures out and about.
His photo boards tell a beautiful story. The boards depict a story of love, of friendship, of family, a proud father and grandfather. A story that he was not able, himself, to put into words. Love is a very complicated word in our family, one that is not uttered much, but through actions can be felt.
…..a time to keep silence, and a time to speak,
I’ve started thinking of this blog for sometime, and haven’t been sure as to wether I should post it or not. I had my computer open the other day, and really wanted an answer. As i looked up a white butterfly was hovering around the window…..???
…a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together
While I was hibernating this winter and staying far away from the pollen in the forest, Michael and the children were embarking on the “Fairy Garden” project - clearing the old paths, that amazingly still exist. Michael made a beautiful seated area with sandstone blocks he found nearby - probably from the old wall that surrounded the lodge. My contribution to the project was making fairy curtains from assorted bottle lids.
The forest, as I mentioned previously, was where I spent hours with my friend Ntofela. I may have even spent more hours on my own, visiting the fairies. Every once in a while the fairies would bring me a present, or I’d find remains of a party they had had the previous night - in the form of little acorn “cups” in a circle. The venue was underneath the fairy curtains, which I now see is an invader weed, but nonetheless the curtains still remain. I remember waking up to a treasure hunt, and the present at the end was an orange Squirmle - a soft toy worm on a string. How I loved that worm, and especially that it was from the fairies? Thank you to my Mom Fairy who left this imprint on me, and one I’ve been subtley able to use and experience once again with my own children - the absolute joy of a treasure hunt and fairy finds.
…a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what has been planted,
I mentioned in the last blog that my chat with David started with dogs and ended with vegetable gardens. Well the seed that was planted in that conversation has turned into what hopefully will be a major harvest soon. Michael and I got thinking about the future of the lodge, and the staff. Realistically, even when doors open again, we don’t see that we will be able to employ 25 permanent staff members immediately. The lodge has what most of the community doesn’t have - access to running water. We met with our management team - Bob, David and Tsoeunyane and ran the idea about starting a staff vegetable garden for those who are interested. They were very pro the idea, and we found an area in the campsite that we spent a few days clearing. The idea would be to get staff involved - completely voluntary - to all help look after the garden, and divide the produce equally. We met with all the staff on Monday, Michael brought seeds on Tuesday, and we will begin our project on Saturday. In the meantime we spent this morning making a hanging bottle herb garden, Bryce and Michael spent the day yesterday making a bird and chicken proof seedling box.
On an evening walk here at Malealea, earlier in the year, I was with Thabo, and I’m not sure why but I asked out loud where Mr Dragonfly was. The next day, on the same walk, at exactly that spot a dragonfly with translucent wings appeared.
…..a time to keep, and a time to throw away,
My Dad didn’t own much. Some of his furniture, camping equipment, some odds and ends, and 3 boards with photographs stapled on were sent to the lodge. I spent a while holding onto his clothes. I know, though, that he would not have wanted that. He always wanted to give things away to those in need. He wanted his clothing to go to Ntate Rampe. Ntate Rampe is one of Malealea’s oldest and most experienced horse guides. He accompanied my Dad on his 18 day expeditions across Lesotho. Eventually, when I had the courage, I placed his clothing in 2 bags and handed them over to Rampe - who with a tear in his eye graciously accepted the gift.
I did hold onto my Dad’s walking stick and hiking hat and will continue to take the 2 items on our future adventures out and about.
His photo boards tell a beautiful story. The boards depict a story of love, of friendship, of family, a proud father and grandfather. A story that he was not able, himself, to put into words. Love is a very complicated word in our family, one that is not uttered much, but through actions can be felt.
…..a time to keep silence, and a time to speak,
I’ve started thinking of this blog for sometime, and haven’t been sure as to wether I should post it or not. I had my computer open the other day, and really wanted an answer. As i looked up a white butterfly was hovering around the window…..???
…a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together
While I was hibernating this winter and staying far away from the pollen in the forest, Michael and the children were embarking on the “Fairy Garden” project - clearing the old paths, that amazingly still exist. Michael made a beautiful seated area with sandstone blocks he found nearby - probably from the old wall that surrounded the lodge. My contribution to the project was making fairy curtains from assorted bottle lids.
The forest, as I mentioned previously, was where I spent hours with my friend Ntofela. I may have even spent more hours on my own, visiting the fairies. Every once in a while the fairies would bring me a present, or I’d find remains of a party they had had the previous night - in the form of little acorn “cups” in a circle. The venue was underneath the fairy curtains, which I now see is an invader weed, but nonetheless the curtains still remain. I remember waking up to a treasure hunt, and the present at the end was an orange Squirmle - a soft toy worm on a string. How I loved that worm, and especially that it was from the fairies? Thank you to my Mom Fairy who left this imprint on me, and one I’ve been subtley able to use and experience once again with my own children - the absolute joy of a treasure hunt and fairy finds.
…a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what has been planted,
I mentioned in the last blog that my chat with David started with dogs and ended with vegetable gardens. Well the seed that was planted in that conversation has turned into what hopefully will be a major harvest soon. Michael and I got thinking about the future of the lodge, and the staff. Realistically, even when doors open again, we don’t see that we will be able to employ 25 permanent staff members immediately. The lodge has what most of the community doesn’t have - access to running water. We met with our management team - Bob, David and Tsoeunyane and ran the idea about starting a staff vegetable garden for those who are interested. They were very pro the idea, and we found an area in the campsite that we spent a few days clearing. The idea would be to get staff involved - completely voluntary - to all help look after the garden, and divide the produce equally. We met with all the staff on Monday, Michael brought seeds on Tuesday, and we will begin our project on Saturday. In the meantime we spent this morning making a hanging bottle herb garden, Bryce and Michael spent the day yesterday making a bird and chicken proof seedling box.
….a time to tear and a time to sew…
I was really taken aback one day when Bryce came asking for my sewing kit. I thought maybe he had a splinter that he needed a needle for - I gave it to him without asking any questions. About an hour later he called me, very proudly, to come and look in his room. He has a couch in his room whose arm had been chewed up by Charlie. He had taken the initiative to sew up the arm, and what an amazing job he had done.
…a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing….
Gemma turns 13 next week. The homeschooling is doing wonders for her academically. The maths program is great and she is understanding concepts that she may have missed out on being part of a huge class. She is excited about what she learns and we often have discussions about some of the topics at dinner time that she covered during the day. However, Gemma misses her friends and her teachers. She has contact with them but she misses the interaction. Gemma loves to sing, and her music teacher has kindly spent time giving her lessons via zoom. Gemma has been spending time with 2 girls from Malealea village - Katlego and Mafumane, who are both quite a bit older than her. She shares a birthday with Mafumane, and is planning a party for her this weekend. With social distancing in place, it will just be the 3 of them, but I think it will be a special time.
However, Gemma wants more than anything to be back at school, and we are considering boarding school as an option for next year. She has proved, over the last 5 months, that she is capable of keeping her diabetes under control. She inserts her own infusion sets. I have hardly checked up on her at all over the last few months. She is almost fully in control on her own. The only thing she needs to work on is to try and tune her ear in to her pump beeping at night time - this happens when her sugars are either higher than 15, or lower than 4 - or, now that I think about it the best solution is to find a nighttime snack that will keep her sugars within the range to avoid any beeps at all.
We are quite confident, that in 4 months time, she will be ready to spread her wings. She has a wonderful support system in Bloemfontein including friends, family and teachers. We have a few month still to discuss this and won’t rush into any drastic decisions.
…..a time to break down, and a time to build up
a time to kill (or at least let go), and a time to heal….
As the season changes new shoots appear, fresh green grass replaces the old and colours start exploding all around, and so I give my heart permission to do the same.
I was really taken aback one day when Bryce came asking for my sewing kit. I thought maybe he had a splinter that he needed a needle for - I gave it to him without asking any questions. About an hour later he called me, very proudly, to come and look in his room. He has a couch in his room whose arm had been chewed up by Charlie. He had taken the initiative to sew up the arm, and what an amazing job he had done.
…a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing….
Gemma turns 13 next week. The homeschooling is doing wonders for her academically. The maths program is great and she is understanding concepts that she may have missed out on being part of a huge class. She is excited about what she learns and we often have discussions about some of the topics at dinner time that she covered during the day. However, Gemma misses her friends and her teachers. She has contact with them but she misses the interaction. Gemma loves to sing, and her music teacher has kindly spent time giving her lessons via zoom. Gemma has been spending time with 2 girls from Malealea village - Katlego and Mafumane, who are both quite a bit older than her. She shares a birthday with Mafumane, and is planning a party for her this weekend. With social distancing in place, it will just be the 3 of them, but I think it will be a special time.
However, Gemma wants more than anything to be back at school, and we are considering boarding school as an option for next year. She has proved, over the last 5 months, that she is capable of keeping her diabetes under control. She inserts her own infusion sets. I have hardly checked up on her at all over the last few months. She is almost fully in control on her own. The only thing she needs to work on is to try and tune her ear in to her pump beeping at night time - this happens when her sugars are either higher than 15, or lower than 4 - or, now that I think about it the best solution is to find a nighttime snack that will keep her sugars within the range to avoid any beeps at all.
We are quite confident, that in 4 months time, she will be ready to spread her wings. She has a wonderful support system in Bloemfontein including friends, family and teachers. We have a few month still to discuss this and won’t rush into any drastic decisions.
…..a time to break down, and a time to build up
a time to kill (or at least let go), and a time to heal….
As the season changes new shoots appear, fresh green grass replaces the old and colours start exploding all around, and so I give my heart permission to do the same.