NAME

Ek het al baie gewonder hoe name eintlik ontstaan het.  Ek weet daar is baie tegnies-korrekte menings en stellings hierhoor, maar ek verkies om my eie afleidings te maak.

Wanneer ‘n ouerpaartjie ‘n baie spesiale naampie vir hul kleinding kies, word ure en dae deurgebring op soek na die die perfekte een (of meer as een) wat by hul spesiale bondeltjie sal pas, al is dié nog nie gebore nie.  Deesdae is die taak makliker gemaak omdat mense vroeg tydens die swangerskap reeds weet watter geslag hul baba is.  Dis samevoegings en verbuigings van bestaande familiename wat uitgedink en saamgeflans word.  Want wié wil nou eintlik hul kleinding Gottliep Casparus of Gottlepina Casparina noem!

Volgens tradisie word die manspersone vernoem en as daar net dogters was, moes die arme bloedjies verbuigings van die oupa en pa se name gekry het.  Albei my Oumas se name was eintlik mansname wat aangepas is : Dawidina Johanna en Phillippina Wilhelmina Jacoba – en toe gaan vernoem hulle sowaar weer van die dogters!  Die gevolg hiervan was, dat die moderne dogters hul name gaan verander het of net nooit vir iemand vertel het wat hul regte name is nie!    Wat is in ‘n naam -  Iets om op trots te wees of andersom?

Ek onthou toe ons voor die hele klas moes opstaan en ons volle name aan juffrou moes gee.  En om alles nog erger te maak, moes ons ons ouers se volle name ook gee.  Name word streng alfabeties uitgeroep, en die kinders spring ewe flink op : Peter James, John Paul, Mary Ann, Elizabeth.  Onthou, ek was in ‘n Ingelse skool, en die volksvreemde Afrikaanse name was iets om van te bloos.  Eers het ek my ouers se Afrikaanse name saggies geprewel ... juffrou kon nie mooi hoor nie!  Toe moes ek weer harder praat, en later tot my ontsteltenis moes ek dit nog spel ook!   Aarde sluk my in!  Toe ek groter geword het, het ek sommer vorentoe gestap en in juffrou se oor gefluister.  Nou besef ek dat die juffrouens net te lui was om op te staan, of selfs om briefies huis toe stuur om die nodige inligting te kry!  Dan sê hul ... “Teacher is always right!”

Dan kom die byname wat kinders uitdink.  Ek was in ‘n Engelse Meisieshoërskool.  Daar was nie sulke oulike byname soos in die Afrikaanse laerskole en ook hoërskole nie.  Nee, by ons was dit name soos Patroesk, Fishy, Horsey. Pinny en Brains!  Onnies het ook deurgeloop met name soos Noddy, Hoffie, Brossie, en Ivey!  Ek sien nou nog elkeen van hierdie mense in my verbeeldings-oog en dink aan daardie tye!  Ek wonder of hulle so in my geheue sou uitstaan as hulle net gewone name gehad het.

'n Roos kon geen ander naam gehad het nie – ‘n ROOS is mos ‘n ROOS! 

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet”         

Romeo & Juliet : William Shakespeare

Linnie

18 April 2O15

WORDS

Imagine life without words!  It would be like a pool without water; or a bicycle without wheels, or a pen without ink!  I can think of many things imaginable and unimaginable which can be equally bad!

A child would undoubtedly say life would be bad without sweeties, and a teenager would say life would be bad without all electronic gadgets. An elderly person wouldn’t be able to imagine life without the health aids like a walking stick, or a hearing aid and naturally all essential medication.

I can’t imagine my life without all my family and loved ones; without those who understand me and accept me for what I am – those who accept my mood swings and who tolerate my bouts of creativity.  I can’t imagine my life without vibrant sunshine every day and the beauty of nature which surrounds me; the willingness of plants who give much pleasure after careful nurturing and water. Life would be bleak without our little Lolla!

Think of a few very confusing words : lead, wind, bass.  Then there are others : pray and prey, too and two. The whole learning process of stringing words together is an immensely challenging and exciting process which never ceases.  Have you ever thought what it would be like if there were no written words – strung together in countless sequences and which actually make sense.  One can “embroider” with words and can transform a plain set of words which can be strung together to form a vibrantly colourful string of beads or into a kaleidoscope of  enchanting hues which send one on a journey  into the land of fantasy and joy!

The Bee Gees have a lovely song :

                       It’s only words, and words are all I have

                       To take your heart away

My word, what a mouthful!

Linnie

16 April 2015

HARTSEER

Vandag is my gemoed baie vol – Ek het ‘n vriendin wat baie swaarkry.  Sy lê en veg vir haar lewe teen die kanker-monster.  Dis ‘n lang en pynlike stryd en ek wens so daar is iets wat gedoen kan word om hierdie swaar las met ander te deel.  Almal wat haar liefhet, sal met plesier daarin wil deel.  Sy was nog  altyd ‘n ware dame wat mens enige tyd deur ‘n ring kon trek -  Iemand wat enigeen as voorbeeld van lewenslus en skoonheid kan dien.

Veertig jaar gelede, het ons vriende geword.  Ons het by dieselfde skool gewerk en ons kinders was altyd beste maatjies.  Ons was drie gesinne wat oor en weer gekuier het, en die vakansies en saam-eet en kuier was sò verrykend en sommer vol “sports” – soos net ‘n klompie jonggetroudes kan ervaar! 

Die vakansie in Durbs was ‘n fees : die middernag swem in die swembad met ons klere aan was tops; die uiteet by die Chinese restaurant in Weststraat : hierdie het eindelose lagbuie en uitbundige grappe tot gevolg gehad.  Daardie stokkies was darem die beste!  Gelukkig kon die kelner die Plattelanders bietjie touwys maak.  Daarna het ons die eerste keer kennis gemaak met Don Pedro.  Ek kan nie hieraan dink sonder om van oor tot oor te glimlag nie!  Ons het see-uitsig woonstelle gehuur, en het sommer op die balkon in ons draagbare braaidrommetjie vleis gebraai : hoe ànders dan?!

In die tyd tussen toé en nòu, het ons een vriendin gesterf; ons gesinne het van mekaar weggedryf en afstande was groot.  Maar, soos die noodlot dit wil hê, het my vriendin en haar gesin Gordonsbaai toe getrek en jare later het ons ook Kaap toe getrek.  Die kinders is almal getroud en van hulle woon oorsee.  Ons kuier nie oor-en-weer nie, maar ons bly in kontak met mekaar en ons bel nog met verjaarsdae.

Maak nie saak nie – die kosbare herinneringe van goeie tye, sal altyd in my gemoed ‘n ereplek hê.  Ek haal hulle uit, en hoef hulle nie eers blink te vryf nie want hulle skitter soos diamante!

Sterkte my Maatjie!

Linnie

15 April 2015

MARBLES

I have an African Violet on the table by the patio door and I caught sight of this colourful marble in the saucer ...

This got me thinking about the games we used to play when we were children.  Yes, girls also used to play, but we never mastered the real boy-technique of holding the marble in the hollow of a bent forefinger, and being able to send marble shooting away by flicking it with a thumbnail.  We opted for the sissy-thing of tossing them underhand and then trying to hit the ghoen in the circle.  The boys were more adventurous and enthusiastic, and amid cheers and jeers, attempted to mark the opponent’s marble and chip a piece off!  This would then be a very proud trophy to take home and show to Mom and whoever else was interested.    Dougie used to ask Mom’s permission to go and “titch Thomas” in the afternoons.  (Thomas being his main opponent) I always wondered what that meant, but assumed that someday the great secret would be shared with me.  The “twaksakkie” with precious trophies was carefully guarded and hidden away from younger siblings who had absolutely NO idea of the blood-sweat-and-tears shed to obtain them!

One of my favourite pastimes was to hold a particularly colourful “alie” close to my eye and look against the bright light to see the kaleidoscope of colours ... and to turn it around, only to see a new vision of the little miracle between my fingers.  Just picture this : a little girl with scrunched up face, one eye closed, one eye open, face all creased in concentration, examining this little gem ... that was me – on my own little planet of make-believe!

I always wondered how on earth this little masterpiece was created.  In my child’s mind, I was in absolute awe to imagine that there could be such an intelligent being who could insert rainbow colours into this glass orb.  Surely, it was nothing short of a miracle.

I watched an interesting programme on TV recently, and even today with all the modern technology, the creation of these gems is really complicated and time consuming.  55 years ago it must have been even more so.

Now, this topic is making me feel really old, and hopefully I don’t sound like an oldie who has nothing better to do, than to sit and ponder days gone by.  I am fired with enthusiasm to do all my wonderful hobbies and exciting creative things which I sadly neglected while I was a working mother.

Whenever I feel a little glum or under the weather, I think of the colourful marble and the bright sunlight, and this gives me joy, lust for life and drive to conquer the day which lies ahead!

SUGAR

Sugar and spice and all things nice, that’s what little girls are made of. 

They are beautiful sweet little creatures who are just too cute for words, and who have all the characteristics of the perfect being.  Many brothers would disagree with that little verse.

My thoughts are like a passenger travelling in a train which has many stops.

My first stop brings to mind my schooldays which are many more years ago than I care to recall.  Primary school actually ... my  best friends and I belonged to that elite group, and it was our greatest joy and most daring challenge to see how many boys we could annoy to the point of aggression.  Pulling faces in class, throwing papers around, only to look as innocent and sweet as possible when old Mrs Rex turned round to face the class again.  Of course, the boys were the first guilty-as-sin culprits who retaliated after being baited, and because only BOYS would be so bold and daring to be disruptive, especially in HER class!  The appropriate punishment was naturally meted out!   Ah, the joys of being a sweet little girl!

My train of thought whizzes me to another station in my childhood :

Roses are red, and violets are blue

Sugar is sweet, and so are you

I remember that one of my most treasured pastimes as a little girl, was to page through Mom’s autograph album.  The sweet messages which were written by her special friends and family, never failed to take me on nostalgic trips to the romantic land of her childhood and youth.  Messages signed by some of her teachers; other messages were from her beaus ...  We had many enthralling discussions about them – Nick was the one who was called for duty during the Second World War, never to return home again.  Another’s heart was broken because she chose Dad above him!  And for many others, I spun many romantic tales around the authors of these messages.  I wonder happened to her autograph album?

The next stop brings me to the sugar bowl :

One of our many mischievous actions, was to “steal” sugar from the sugar bowl without Mommy knowing.  Stealthily we would creep to the kitchen and scoop the sugar-spoon full of sugar directly into our mouths, and rush out again – only to hear Mom’s warning voice from inside : “ I can see you taking sugar!”  We were convinced she could see through walls, and it was only much later that we realised that she could hear when the spoon was hastily dropped back into the sugar bowl!

Sugar is sweet ...

PERDRY

Great excitement in our family : our Granddaughter, Leo-né, our own horserider in the family, took  part in a jumping competition this morning! 

Dis Saterdag-oggend : die dag van die perdspring-kompetisie waaraan

Leo-né deelgeneem het.

  

Leo-né en Dancer : 1ste Plek

Daar was terselfdertyd ‘n lugskou net langs die veld waar die perdrykompetisie plaasgevind het, maar al die perde het hulle soos wafferse helde gedra.  Geeneen van hulle het geskrik vir die vliegtuie wat soos die oorlogjare se Spitfyers of bomwerpers geklink het nie en het gespring soos professionele perde.  Mens kon sien hoe ruiters en perde saamwerk en hoe die kinders (party groter en ander weer taamlik klein) met hul bene, voete, hande en lywe werk om met hul perde te kommunikeer.

Ek het altyd gedink mens klim maar net op die perd en ry tot by die pale en dié sal vanself oorspring.  Maar, die kenners weet van beter, en ek het ook geleer om die tegniese detail waar te neem en te waardeer.  Dan moet die ruiters ook nog kophou om die regte volgorde van die spronge te maak en dan ook om reg te sit, hande  en elmboë reg te hou, en lyf mooi regop te hou!  Dìt wil gedoen word!

Leo-né en Dancer : 1ste en 3de Plekke

Many gruelling days of practice, preparation, perspiration, repetition, and plenty of dedication were well rewarded.  Leo-né and Dancer, her best horsey friend, won first place as well as third place for their respective competitions!  We are so proud of the two of them : They performed perfectly in unison and it was a great pleasure to watch!

BAIE GELUK LEO-Né!  ONS IS ALMAL BAIE TROTS OP JOU!!

PADKOS

Padkos!  Hierdie towerwoord wat so opgewonde en uitbundig in ons kinderdae genoem is, hou soveel herinneringe vir ons uit ons kinderdae.

Die langverwagte jaarlikse vakansie by die see het uiteindelik aangebreek.  Mom pak die piekniekmandjie  en kry alles gereed – met al die heerlike, verrassende eetgoedjies waaraan ons onder ‘n boom langs die pad sal gaan smul.  Ons kon nie wag om ver genoeg van die huis af te ry, voordat ons kon stilhou nie.  Ai, ons  geneul en  kla dat ons kamtig  darem verskriklik honger is, en dat ons nie een enkele oomblik langer  kon uithou, het ons ouers tot reserny gedryf.  Uiteindelik is ons volgens Dad ver genoeg van die huis af, en ons kry die perfekte boom  waaronder ons kon stilhou.

Alles is sorgvuldig op die tafeltjie uitgepak – ons kinders trippel rond en jaag mekaar, terwyl alles mooi gereed gekry word.  Daar is toebroodjies met die heerlikste vulsels van kaas en tamatie, appelkooskonfyt en fyngemaakte eiers met mayonnaise (natuurlik nie alles saam op een broodjie nie!).  Dis darem sò lekker om sommer meer as een of twee broodjies te neem.  Skelmplies natuurlik, want wie gaan nou eintlik tel hoeveel ons eet.  Frikadelle was Dad se bestelling, gekookte eiers was Mom s’n,  boerewors was sommer almal s’n!  Ons moes net mooi deel, want onthou, die pad is nog lank voordat ons by die see sou uitkom.   Een van die flesse koffie is ook sorgvuldig tussen ons almal gedeel.  Ons bêre die ander vir die volgende stilhou.  Die karre snel verby en blaas hul toeters, en ons kinders waai en groet al skreeuend :  Ons gaan tog see toe, wê wê wê!

Daar het nie veel verander nie :  in volgende generasie se tyd is alles presies dieselfde – dieselfde padkos, dieselfde koffie, dieselfde opwinding.  Of nee ek jok, deesdae soek ons darem ook ‘n Engen-garage waar ons  takeaway Wimpie-koffie vir die pad kan koop.  Dìs nou ‘n spesiale vergunning wat nie by die padkos-storie gereken word nie!

Die lang pad see-toe is korter gemaak met ons kinders wat motorregistrasienommers moes probeer onthou.  Ons moes ook kyk wie al die syfers kon optel voordat die verbygaande kar te ver weg is.  “I spy” was ook ‘n gunsteling, en natuurlik het ons ook maar gekroek en dinge “gesien” wat ons lankal verbygery het!

In my kinderdae, was die grootste kompetisie om te sien wie eerste die see sien.  Eintlik dink ek hierdie speletjie is deur Mom uitgedink om ons kinders ‘n bietjie afleiding te bied, en om vir Mom en Dad bietjie rus te gee.

Toe ek en Fanie se kinders klein was, het ons dieselfde kompetisie gehou – met dieselfde redes as toe ons kinders was.

“I can see the sea! I can see the sea!  I can see the sea “... tot vervelens toe het ons hierdie uit volle bors gesing-skree!  En ons twee dogters nou weer : “Ek sien-die –seee! Ek sien-die-seeee! Ek sien-die-seee!”

Padkos en vakansie is sinoniem, en albei word met tere herinneringe gekoester en op ‘n spesiale plekkie in ons harte gebêre.

COFFEE

The first coffee plant was found in the mountains of Yemen.  Then by 1500 it was exported to the rest of the world through the port of Mokha in Yemen.

Thus was the birth and introduction to mankind!  How many folk have made this miracle bean part of their daily lives?

 “There are two methods of processing the coffee berries.  The first method is “wet processing”, which is usually carried out in Central America and areas of Africa.  The flesh of the berries is separated from the seeds and then the seeds are fermented - soaked in water for about two days.  This dissolves any pulp or sticky residue that may still be attached to the seeds.

The “dry processing” method is cheaper and simpler, used for lower quality beans in Brazil and much of Africa.  Twigs and other foreign objects are separated from the berries and the fruit is them spread out in the sun on concrete or brick for 2 – 3 weeks, turned regularly for even drying”  Wikipedia

Enough of technical details!  Now for the nitty gritty down-to-earth significance of the magical brew.

Ask any of your best friends what the first thing is that they desire when they wake up in the morning.  Most will say ...  COFFEE.  Not for me that time of day.  Delicious black, bitter rooibos tea gives me a good start for the day.  But, admittedly, in the vicinity of 10 am, my coffee-urge attacks me.  I feel lightheaded and a dull headache and obsessive thoughts of the “C” word overrule all other.

How many ways can coffee be made?  Well, the ordinary old instant coffee with cold milk is one boring option ... Second could be ground coffee in a plunger with hot milk.  My all-time homemade favourite is the freshly ground beans percolated, with milk which has been frothed to perfection.  This is my daily reward after I have done my chores around the house

When I walk around in one of our local shopping malls, the devilish fragrance of freshly ground coffee beckons me with its wickedly decadent twirls of aroma which waft directly to my ever-willing nose!  I take deep breaths and savour this – I cannot resist finding a table to order my daily fix!

Darn, I first have get rid of the tongue in my cheek so that I can enjoy my cuppa!  Good stuff!!

DIE  LEWE  IS  ‘N  LIED

Hier is ‘n versie wat ek geskryf het om my gedagtes oor die LEWE weer te gee

LIFE IS A JOY

This is a little poem which I wrote based on the abovementioned theme :

SONSKYN

Helder sonskyn wat oor die aarde skyn, beteken iets vir almal

Soggens vroeg wanneer die lug koel is en die gras nog natgedou is, is die skaduwees nog lank en koel.   Die grasperke is heldergroen en alles is vars en skoon.  Die strale streel liggies  die blomme en blare;  die voëltjies kwetter vrolik in afwagting van die nuwe dag wat aanbreek.

Teen twaalfuur skyn dit met mening.  Dan is die skaduwees op hul kortste.  Die middagson skyn fel en daar is nie veel skuiling vir mens en dier nie. Die dou het lankreeds opgedroog en verdamp.  Die plante wat nie genoegsame water gekry het nie, se blare hang effens - die miere en goggas werk onverpoos om hul dagtake te voltooi en die bye zoem tussen die blomme om nektar te oes.

Ek onthou toe ons as kinders die goue trompette van die  sonskyn-helder “Golden Shower” heining bygedam het.  Ons het die trompetjies afgepluk, eers seker gemaak dat daar geen miere daarin wegkruip nie, en toe die soet stropies daaruit gesuig!  Daar was natuurlik geleenthede wat van ons wél ‘n gogga of twee ook ingekry het!  Hoe smaak ‘n mier?  Wel effens branderig en effens suurderig!!  Ons het die kelkies ingeryg en sonskyn halssnoere en kroontjies gemaak.

Laatmiddag wanneer die skaduwees langer word, en die dinge van die natuur ‘n stadiger pas aanneem, word dit koeler en die skaduwees weer langer.  Dis die tyd van die dag wanneer mens die diere weer in hul krale injaag , en die tyd wanneer die melkkoeie stalle toe kom om gemelk te word.  Ouma-Ouma het nog daardie dae ‘n koolstoof gehad, en laatmiddag was die tyd toe dit gestook is om warm water vir aandbad te maak.  Die reuk  van die steenkoolrook  en die hane wat om die beurt kraai, sal altyd daaraan herinner.

Vroeg-aand is die skaduwees weer langer – alles begin teen ‘n stadiger tempo beweeg.  Dis die tyd wanneer mammas en pappas vanaf hul werk terugkeer, en tyd wanneer kindertjies opgewonde uitsien na hul tuiskoms.  Ons kon nie wag dat Mom by die huis kom nie.  Die eerste welkomwoorde wat ons uitgeroep het was :  waar is ons swieties?  Kan mens dit glo?  Mom was moeg gewerk en die pennies was maar skaars, maar elke dag was daar ‘n ietsie vir ons  in haar  sak, al was dit net vir elkeen ‘n niekkerbol of ‘n heuninggeur wilsonstoffie  ... wat sonskyn in ons lewens gebring het!

9 April 2015

We went on a trip to Namaqualand.  This is an example of one of the beautiful daisies which we saw