Are you aware that when someone dies now, in South Africa, the Death Certificate, for all deaths, excluding Murder or Suicide will state the 'Cause of Death' as Natural Causes.
This is so incomprehensible that it defies any logical thought. Not too many years ago a Death Certificate would record Cause of Death: as either Colon Cancer, Heart Failure, Pneumonia, Influenza, Typhoid, Malaria, etc. You see where I am going with this? Families with genetic conditions could delve back into their history and determine what frailties were in their genes. If Gran aunt Eliza and Uncle Morris had congestive heart failure, then chances were that I would possibly have the same problems. I could be forewarned of this just by delving into some of my forebears death certificates. Authorities could have a look at the statistics and see what major disease threatened countries in the past and what they could do to prevent them in the future. One could get reliable statistics on what the major causes of death were and what one could do to prevent catastrophes affecting current and future populations. But when you have "Natural Causes" as the 'blanket' cause of death, what do you determine from these statistics? Are we fudging over the truth to prevent people from knowing just how many people are dying from HIV AIDS? Are we still trying to pretend that this epidemic is invisible and if we ignore it, it will go away? Have we not gone past the beetroot and having a shower 'cures'? Or is there a more sinister reason for our ignoring the true causes of death? Are our doctors becoming less able to properly diagnose problems, so that it is just easy to determine "Natural Causes" instead of really getting to the bottom of the problem? In so many cases, our medical profession rely on various forms of scans, path lab analyses and the like, because they have neither the time nor the inclination, nor sadly, the ability to properly find the root cause of a problem. People go to their doctors not feeling well, and invariably walk out of the consulting rooms clutching a prescription for some or other antibiotic and pain pill, because the doctor is at a loss as to what the cause of the problem is. The patient is happy he has a pill to take. The doctor has looked to be proactive, and when next week the patient is back again with no solution to his problem, another round of antibiotics is prescribed. No wonder the antibiotics are now cleverer than the people prescribing them and are no longer effective. Doctors do not know their patients, they do not know what their home lives are like, what conditions they are living under, what stresses they have in their working lives. In a waiting room full of people, I hazard a guess that the doctor behind the closed door has in 99% of the patients awaiting his attention, never entered their homes. How could they then make a holistic diagnosis when they have not used half of the tools at their disposal to make an intelligent and informed diagnosis? They are working on the formula that most of these patients suffer from the same sorts of things, and that there will be few surprises in their cases loads each day. Perhaps this is why they are only looking for the obvious and miss the unusual. Machines tell one many things, but they are only as good as the people who are manipulating them. Which brings me back to those death certificates which tell you absolutely nothing. Are we getting to a stage where at birth they will do a genetic profile which will tell you which you are most likely to succumb to, so that anything that doesn't fit the pattern will not even be considered? This is scary stuff. Are we entitled to better? Should we be told the true cause of death? I think so. What do you say? So 2015 has started. Hip Hip Horray or is that Yawn, yo hum so what? 2014 ended badly. My bother died suddenly in hospital on the morning after Christmas, quite unexpectedly and leaving me feeling as I never have before. Now death is not a new thing to me, I've been at gravesides and bedsides, and crematoria (I think that is the plural of crematorium: correct me if I am wrong and I've sat through many a service at an undertakers chapel where the person taking the 'service' (for want of a better word) has not had a foggy clue about the person for whom they are officiating. I've cried buckets of tears in support of people whom I didn't know but because I knew their families or loved ones I was there. And yet never before, even with the loss of my parents have I felt so utterly deflated as with my brother's death. Grief welled up in me in a way I could not explain. Maybe I was angry at him for leaving me. After all, he was my elder brother who was supposed to look after me and be there when I needed him. He wasn't supposed to just die like this, and leave me to fend for myself. Okay, I am a grown up girl, I have a loving husband, a caring son, daughter-in-law, grandson and lots and lots of friends and other cousins, nephews and nieces, and dozens of friends, but it just wasn't the same. My whole life I had had this wonderfully caring brother around. Yes, we got mad at each other and shouted at each other and yelled at each other. Yes, we would sulk for a week without speaking. But if there was a crisis, he was there. I could talk to him. I could tell him funny stories. I could ask his advice. I could complain about the world, and he was there. Now he's not and I feel vulnerable as never before. They haven't just pulled the rug out from under my feet they have chopped a hole in the floor boards from the 90th floor down to the basement and I don't quite know how to creep up again. I mean, yes, I do, and I will get over it all, I know that. I am resilient, but I think that at the moment I am just so heartsore. And I know that there are lots and lots of people just like me, dealing with some ache, or problem or alienation that they too feel is too deep to contemplate. But whereas I know I can get over it, that I will cherish his memory. I will laugh again as I remember those funny things we used to share., there are those people who will remain permanently chained to their depression and will not be able to see the joy again. And I think it is for these people that I am mourning as well, because everyone deserves a little joy in their lives. And whilst whatever they have lost is irreplaceable, there will be compensations. Other people will come in and expand their hearts a bit more, because that's the strange thing about love, no matter how many people you learn to love, however many creep into your heart, there is always place for yet another, and another. A dear friend's son popped by a few hours ago with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and the promise of a visit to the beach next week with his children so we can all be reacquainted again, and I am glad, despite my sadness. Because this is going to expand my heart just that little bit further. So as I go, I want to include the transcript of the eulogy I gave at the funeral yesterday. I was proud of myself as I held myself together and only cried when I read the last three words. I hope that if you out there who are reading this, have a sad spot in your heart right now, that you too will find some comfort and that your heart will grow as I know mine will. As a little girl I called Raymond Buddy as I was un able to say Raymond. This truly describes our relationship. He was my buddy, although Raymond to the family. Although officially named Aubrey Raymond .. With his father up North for over five years, he had his mother all to himself. When Dad returned; they moved to from Durban to De Aar and Kimberley. When learned of a sibling coming, he stated it had to be a sister. A boy would be sent back immediately, and named me after Princess Margaret and the present queen. A doting brother, eight years my senior, he did much to foster our relationship despite my often getting him into trouble. His pellet gun, darts and dartboard were confiscated when he used them as defence against me. No sooner back in Kimberley when my parents ‘absconded’ to Estcourt, leaving him in the care of our grandparents but we had shared holidays in Kimberley, Durban and Estcourt. Once, when tobogganing down the mine dumps in Kimberley with him, I ended up in a thorn bush, covered in thorns. Poor Raymond got the blame. And in our home humour was the order of the day.He collected birds, made me jigsaw puzzles; tinkered with things. He danced like a ballroom champion, accompanying Granny to the dances in Kimberley. On receiving his first wristwatch, he dismantled it and spread across his bed. He had to know ‘how it worked.’ It never went back together again. Although quite dextrous he managed to blow a hole in the roof of the garage with his chemistry set. Raymond loved animals; collected wild birds, as he reared and bred canaries and wild birds, building and dismantling aviaries, and he kept a donkey to ride amongst the mine dumps . Many dogs and cats shared his walk through life. Good looking with natural charm, the girls flocked around him. We moved to Nelspruit leaving him at boarding school in Kimberley, but during the holidays he spent endless hours at the swimming baths, diving off the high diving board with aplomb and style. I was a pest who hung around, thwarting any attempts at a budding romance. His strategy was to go swimming early, find all the loose change at the bottom of the pool to keep me in bribes and cool drinks compounding d his problems as I exploited this. We had legendary parties at home with every teenager in the neighbourhood present. He taught me to rock ‘n roll and jive as I was still light enough to throw over his shoulder, When he started work on the Reef, he insisted on giving me pocket money every month. He bought me my first bicycle, a top of the range Raleigh When this was stolen he replaced with another, less flashy model. When Raymond met Maureen, he was smitten. They were married quite soon after. He now became “Ray”, as Maureen called him “Mommy’s little Ray of sunshine,” He was always busy, performing car maintenance, carpentry, plumbing, building and electrical work. He set himself high standards. Ray often found he had to bail John and I out when our car broke down. When we moved to Kleinmond he installed back patio doors, designed an made a gate for us, and a book case. When Moyra was born, he and Maureen had a difficult time, but he adored his little girl despite her handicaps. They were excellent parents with endless patience. Beverley, their first adoptee, had severe retardation, which resulted in the adoption being annulled. This broke their hearts. Maureen volunteered at Cotlands and they were asked to foster, then later adopted, a little baby boy. Along came Timothy, who was the best thing that ever happened to them. A lovely sunny little boy with an eager smile had found two extremely enthusiastic parents. When later Timothy provided three wonderful grandchildren, Ray’s life was complete. The loss of Moyra was heartbreaking for them. Ray became involved in Rotary and worked hard for charity. He became President of Kloof Rotary Club and was awarded a Paul Harris for his dedication. His heart and soul went into everything. He was on Tim’s School Board, on his Parish Council, was chairman of OCCA, the Oil and Colour Chemists Association, having in four years covered the full range of executive positions. In between some serious health issues arose: phlebitis as a result of having contracted chicken box as an adult left him with problems with his legs. He concussed himself very badly, and on regaining consciousness was completely paralysed. Luckily this was only temporary. Seldom did he complain. Three operations years later did nothing to relieve his pain. In retirement he came to the Cape, where he built a granny flat behind Tim’s house for Maureen and himself. He found the Mupine Golf Club and joined, making some dear friends, one of whom, he was to learn later was someone John had known as a child. Maureen who loved him unreservedly was sometimes intimidated by this outgoing man who attracted so many to him. She was quiet and retiring; he outgoing and involved. Then Maureen met Lanie at church and they became friends. When Maureen took ill Lanie stood by them both. Ray was very lost when Maureen died, and Lanie was able to help Ray through a difficult time. We were overjoyed when they married. The reception was held in our home. Lanie brought him two extra sons, a daughter in law and another granddaughter. He was a happy man. Thank you, Lanie for making Ray so content in his last years. We salute you! There is so much I haven’t said about Ray. I haven’t even touched on his working life and his utmost pride in his son Timothy. I have lost my best Buddy, but I know he is watching over us all. Rest in Peace dear Ray. I made a comment the other day about the inefficiencies of our local Municipality. my comment was a result of having awoken at some ungodly hour to find we had no electricity. The previous week we had had no street lights. The council had on both occasions said it would take a while to fix as they had run out of materials. This is after a long battle to get things done, having seen the ineptitude displayed by the staff and their seeming inability to come to grips with problems. A water pipe burst some days before had the staff digging int he wrong place to start with and left us without water for a very long time.
However, when I made comment on this I had people say what about those without any electricity or running water and that we should be thankful for what we have. Well, make no mistakes, I am very grateful for what I have. i am very thankful that I do not have to cook on a paraffin stove or gather wood for a fire, and I am grateful that I turn on the tap and have water. I do feel an empathy for those who do not have this luxury. Yet, I also think that if, I with my privileges do not complain about shoddy service and inefficiency then my fellow residents who do not have these 'luxuries' or is that 'necessities of life' will never be in my position either. There are two camps in this town when it comes to the municipality. There are those of us who expect, and feel we are entitled to efficient service, proper planning, and the correct allocation fo budgets. On the other hand there are those who think that what we are getting is good and we should be grateful for having what we have. I am sorry to tread on toes, but I belong in the former group. Our rates are escalating at an alarming rate, we are getting fewer and fewer services for the money we are paying. everything costs more, but our Municipality needs, like many, many others in this country, to make the most of the resources that they have. Getting back to the water problem and the burst pipes. Twelve years ago we had the very same problems, it was then mooted that these pipes needed to be replaced. We have asbestos pipes - not healthy for anyone. We are still going through the motions of fix and repair. Put this out to proper business practice and the pipes would have had to have been replaced and the staff would have had to forego their bonusses and their increases to ensure customer satisfaction. The argument that they are obliged to increase according to the rules laid down by government is a load of baloney. Watching these men working on the pipes made me wince. At any given time there were seven or eight men standing around watching one man working. We had four or five vehicles standing around the site when one vehicle could have transported all the workers and the equipment. Same for the electricity. When I saw them working on the street light situation (which had been caused by the theft of cable) there once again were four people watching one man do the work. If we are ever going to be able to supply electricity and water to all those who need it, so that I don't have to feel sorry that I am bleating about having an interrupted service then we need to get the municipal staff working at optimum level, and if this includes proper training, budget allocations and whatever else, then I will continue to hammer them on all fronts. If we don't complain about the inefficient standards now, we will soon all be without the basic necessities in life. One look at what is happening beyond our borders is enough affirmation that this is the way we are heading. I have just read the latest J.M. Coetzee novel, The Childhood of Jesus. This story perplexed me and worried me. The writing, in that I am talking about the writing style and the prose, are as always excellent, to the point, and the sentences beautifully constructed. There are no excesses. There are few if any adjectives. One can understand each individual sentence with ease. However, and here is the rub, the novel is complete and utter hogwash. What was it about? What was he trying to say? And I am not alone in this. I am one of a number of dissenting voices. Some reviews from august publications in the business, called it 'weird, strange, unfathomable'. Many said that his "Australian novels" (meaning the ones written since his move to Australia), are going from the esoteric to the ridiculous. Firstly, the title has no bearing on the story. One would assume that he had written about the subject matter that the title leads you to believe he has done. But it is so far removed from The Childhood of Jesus that we only then remember that J.M. Coetzee has very different views on religion. Can we all be wrong? are we all missing the plot? I don't think so.
And this, leads me to reason, had J.M. Coetzee not been a multi-prize winner, a man whose has received many awards, would this novel ever have seen the light of day? Had I or anyone else written this novel, would it not have been consigned to the slush pile, never to see the light of day? And this begs the question too, is this fair to other aspiring writers in a time when it is so difficult to get your book published? Are the publishers, and I am not talking about the ones who published this volume, but publishers in general, are they not becoming victims of their own folly? Is their attitude, "Oh so this is Blog Blogsy's book. He's been there before, had a couple of bestsellers. We must take it. Never mind that this one is not worth the paper the manuscript has been typed or printed on." Are new emerging writers being relegated to the slush pile simply because they are unknown and untried? Money is tight. We all know that.Publishers need to get value for every dollar. But they are not even giving the new writers a chance. To find that magical publisher, we need all manner of tools, including overworked agents to get noticed. We have to prostitute ourselves at book fairs and beg minor staff members to look at our scripts. Whilst these famous writers continue to churn out drivel, and the one in question is not the only one being used in this way. We, the unknown have to use a well known name, something that people will automatically buy without questioning whether it is worth it to get ourselves even noticed by these moguls of publishing. And believe me there are many out there who deserve a chance. Are these publishers not going to lose out to the many indie publishers out there? Are they not shooting themselves in the foot? I would love to know. In actual fact, I am probably shooting myself in the foot right now, by exposing this book from such a famous pen as being unworthy of being published, in my humble opinion. I am probably drawing more attention to it. More people will go out and buy it, pushing sales up, and it may become a bestseller. Heaven Forbid. Monday 19th May 2014
Left home at the crack of dawn with Bella unhappily settled in Rivendell. Then through to town. John did his first aid and I walked the shops trawling for shoes. Eventually found what I liked but debated. Then as I was going back John arrived back having completed the exam and passed. We had a Spur lunch and went through to David. From there we visited Stephen and Tracy – Steve just home for a few days, from there on to Nick and Dale where chaos reigned supreme. Dogs, family all coming and going. After that we went home had a late supper and to bed. I slept like a log for the first time in months. Up next morning, breakfasted, dressed, finished the packing, Cheryl came to fetch us and drove us through to the airport. On arrival found the flight had been delayed due to someone being sick on the inbound flight and a diversion for them to Reunion whilst we waited and waited and waited. Finally took off at half past five. Journey was five hour and forty five minutes but given the change in time zones we finally arrived here in what was the early hours of the morning. Supper had been left on a tray but we had eaten too much all day so opted for bed. Tried to shower but water was ice cold and to top it all I had cramps in my legs like you wouldn’t believe. Got to sleep and slept soundly. Awoke at what was seven thirty here but only five thirty home time. Eyes sandy, et al. Showered and there was blessed hot water, thank goodness. A cup of coffee and off to report the safe not working, the fridge rumbling in the night and dripping sound emanating from it. Was very impressed with the new day concierge, who although he had never laid eyes on us before, greeted us by name. “Good morning Mr and Mrs Wilson.” Reported our problems and they were soon sorted out. David was having trouble getting Pat out of bed and dressed so we breakfasted and took enough for lunch as well. I splurged on chocolate pancakes, chocolate cereal, chocolate croissants for brekkie! Lovely! Pat finally made it to the dining room just before they closed. We walked down the road for David to change some money and then back. Pat walked at two year old pace, stopping to admire blades of grass, flowers, buildings and each time she spied a restaurant was convinced we would find an ice cream there! Lunched on our ill gotten gains and then had a nap whereafter we went beach side and walked for miles. Lovely! A bit of rain a few clouds but still balmy. John and David went shopping for odds and ends and Pat and I sat under an awning in the garden with the birds. A little later we wandered off down the beach and had a good time finding that too much coral had died off, leaving white skeletons where before rich coral beds had stretched for miles. We spoke to some locals, all friendly and free with their information about various things. That done, sundowners on the porch, a tidy up and an Indian themed supper with lots of yummy curries and the bits that go with it, followed by a demonstration of delightful Indian dancing with nice music to go with it – not whiney repetitive stuff. Now it’s bed time, or almost. I just need to down load some of my photos as I have taken many. I’ve lost a couple of days along the line. Was dismayed to learn today was Thursday my goodness. This morning went to check internet and got to breakfast to find David and Pat there – she was more amenable having had a good night’s sleep. Debated what to do. David wanted to take the bus to Pamplemousse, and then walk to the sugar mills. A taxi driver named Ramdar found us and offered to take us. With some haggling, particularly on John’s side we came to an arrangement and off we went. Luckily we did as the sugar mills were much further than we thought. The gardens were beautiful at Pamplemousse. Loved seeing them. The guide was informative and friendly. I got a couple of questions right that she asked so she was quite impressed. Said I had passed the exam! Great stuff. Then we zoomed off to the sugar mills which were interesting. John could have spent the whole day there but I cried off as did David. We went on a sugar tasting, and found many more types of sugar than we knew existed – certainly most are unavailable in South Africa. From There was also an interesting rum tasting. The first one was lovely called a baking rum and then followed by others each growing strong and more bitter as they went along. We didn’t buy because the prices seemed expensive. Then Ramdar took us home again – he had really been a great guide. A sleep after a purloined lunch (victuals stolen at breakfast) and then a sleep. After that bathers on and off to the beach. This time going in the opposite direction. Saw another squacco heron and a dove with a blue face! There was a Hindu shrine en route and I took some pictures of the various Hindu deities but will have to have a refresher on the various Hindu gods. David, John and I had a swim in gloriously warm water and Pat sat on the beach on a towel with her jersey and two hats on! (One belonging to John). No fishes in the water as I remembered from Le Coco beach but we were at the north end of the island so maybe that’s why. Tomorrow we go on a glass bottom boat to see more. The evening rendered a lovely Chinese supper and also some musical entertainment with passable singing, Altogether pleasant. Friday 23rd May 2014 Started the day with a trip on the glass bottom boat. Was quite disappointed to see the paucity of fishes and the degradation of the coral reef. The bottom of the sea looked dead and dreary. There were some fishes, but none of the plentitude of fingerlings seen in the last visit. We did see quite a few though at a spot where we stopped but only saw a maximum of ten varieties, not very big ones at that. We sat at one spot for a long time whilst others snorkelled. People on paddleskis came up, tethered themselves to our boat and joined in the swim before paddling off once again. Thereafter we went for a swim – not quite as warm as yesterday but still pleasant. Pat refused to swim, refused to put her costume on, was not in a good mood. After a filched lunch (filched from the breakfast table) we headed off to catch a bus to the aquarium. Whilst waiting Rechar, a taxi driver, made himself known and for a little more than the bus fare took us to the aquarium and back. That was quite interesting, although quite small fish mainly, and one giant turtle and a couple of sharks in huge tanks. We then negotiated a fee with Rechar to take us on a grand tour on Sunday at a much reduced price. This should be great. Tomorrow we will take the bus for the experience to Port Louis for a little shopping. We tried getting Pat down to the sea, I managed to get her into her bather but after that things went down hill. She refused to get into the water saying that people did not wear shoes in the water! She was not happy with David for trying to make her do it either. She sulked and fretted for the rest of the afternoon. I did however manage to coax to wet her feet in the 20cm deep baby pool but there she was unhappy about the children who were enjoying themselves there – ‘little buggars and little s...t.’ was what she kept repeating. After some medication later she seemed to relax a little. Tonight we had a grand buffet supper served down at the sea side under thatched lapas and the stars. Food was a feast for eye and the stomach groaned at the plentitude. Oysters, sea urchins, and a surfeit of fish dishes, as well as beef, pork, paella, sea food stew, chicken, vegetables and more, started off by a fish soup and lots of salads etc. Puddings were delightful with various tarts and cream filled choux pastry forms as well as some rhum babas and other delights, fruit salads and sliced fresh fruits. Music night tonight, like a disco, and a music quiz. But the music proved too loud for Pat (and John) so after five minutes retired from the scene. At any rate the music was mainly of French origin so we were totally at a loss. Perfect weather in paradise – warm and balmy. SUNDAY 25TH MAY 2014 Started the day with a day trip down the west coast area. We went to the extinct volcano and there I managed to step into the largest dog turd ever, getting my sandal and foot covered. Luckily there was wet grass and a few wet wipes in my pocket to clear up the mess. I was not happy! Took in the Grand Bassin, a large reservoir for fresh water storage. Drove through large natural woods and forests and also pine plantations put there by the English when they cut down the natural woods of the island for furniture and boat building. At Grand Bassin Holy Lake we then saw two ginormous statues – one still under construction – of Shiva near to the largest Hindu temple in the world. It stretches over two areas, and one takes a path beneath the road to get to the main part. There the lake has stools around it to enable people to sit there and wash their feet etc before entering the temple. There is another temple further on got to via a footpath next to the lake. All extremely beautiful with all the deities there so one can pray to which ever one you need to. Services are conducted whilst people wander in and out. The priests are robed in different colours according to the level of enlightenment they have reached. There Pat managed to get herself locked into a toilet. To try to get her out I had to resort to wading through some rather smelly pee water (yugh!) to find a large bucket to stand on to see over the top and then find a discarded broomstick to knock the latch down. However it still needed to be pushed back, something I could not do from my angle. It needed a smaller implement so I then found a steel bar to get at it, and despite cajoling, and trying to get her to push it could not get her to co-operate. Eventually called David and John. Luckily there were no other women in the loo. David came in saw the problem from the bucket and told her what to do and lo and behold she listened! Pat freed! Off to the Alexander Falls where it started to drizzle a little so my photographs were a blur. . Past the Reservoir Mare Aux Vacour and the colonial house at LaReduic. And Mare Aux Vacous. We also took in the Tamarind Falls and the black River Gorge with another stunning waterfall. Now we moved to have Lunch at Chamerel – a restaurant picked by our driver Reschar (or Richard). Delicious prawns with a garlic sauce and some French style bread with either aubergine dip or chilli – very hot but delicious. Chamerel was beautiful with the coloured sands, the gorgeous views, yet another waterfall, the tortoises in the enclosure. Lovely stuff. The Chamarel plantation also grows coffee, pawpaws, and coconut. Reschar dook us to the viewpoint at Grand Casa Noyale and what a sight that was. Stretched for miles and miles, stunning views across the bay and the islands and the sea. We drove through the Tamarind mangrove swamps and even managed to catch sight of a stilt basking on the rocks but who flew off whilst we watched. We went past a shopping centre which made us feel quite at home, featuring Woolworths, Shoprite, Food Lovers Market and more, but didn’t stop. Things quite expensive even with a favourable exchange rate. Monday 26th May 2014-05 What a lovely day again. This time we got Reschar to take us to Grande Baie , stopping at the temple at Tricolet along the way. Here was an enormous bunyan tree in the grounds of the Hindu temple. The temple itself looked like a wedding cake with lots of colourful ornamentation around it, with many satellite chapels around the perimeter. From here to Cap Malheureux at Grand Baie where the story of the lovelorn lovers Paul at Virginie lost their lives in the stranding of the ship bringing Virginie to Paul and where because of modesty she lost her life, refusing to get into the surf by removing her clothes. Grand Baie was one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen – crystal clear waters, white beaches bobbing boats, beautifully green. Spectacular does not do it enough credit. I loved the placed. We visited the Catholic Church here, which was simple but majestic, with its red roof and white plaster walls. Inside was plain but dignified. A confessional on either side of the entrance with no chance of fooling the priest as it is an open confessional and you have to walk past the priest to get onto the confessor’s side. After that we went to the shopping market with thousands of stalls all around with people eager to sell their wares to you. Loved it but didn’t buy much – goods are not that cheap. Unless you are buying in Euros which we weren’t. Back to the hotel for a swim, and some sun, lunch on the lawns, and a much needed siesta before a walk to Le Cannonier later. Tuesday 27th May 2014 Up in the middle of the night to get to the airport on time. Drove like demons and boarded the same plane as the one on which we had arrived. A long flight with breakfast and lunch on board. Arrived to much colder weather in Cape Town. Cheryl there to meet us. Customs were actually friendly and smiling! What a pleasure. Decided to come straight home instead of staying over. What a great holiday. Please, can I go again? (That’s my motto for having had a good holiday.) Thank you David and Patricia. We had such fun. We went out this morning to give Bella her walk, and found a wishy washy sunrise with no wind and no sign of rain. Yet half an hour later the wind had sprung up and the clouds rolled in. Piet Beukes posted a picture of the rain clouds coming in over Gordon's Bay and I thought how lucky we had been to have an Indian summer when Des and Nicola were here. Perfect weather to entice them to the Cape. And it's been such a busy time with so many birthdays over this period, a real celebration of life. But winter is a time for reflection and analysis., and thus we came to discuss this sad situation where so many people are unemployed. And we, the older are to blame, having raised expectations to high. We took away the systems that were working, those of apprenticeships and in=house training and raised the education level bars without testing their feasibility. Talking to Danie Joubert this morning, we came to the sad conclusion that all this bureaucracy around job creation with FET's and unnecessary officialdom in skills development, is what is actually hindering people of actually reaching their true potential. Danie commented on the fact that to be able to be signed into an apprenticeship one had to have reached a certain level of maths and science. However, many a person has not got this, but would learn so well from having a qualified person teaching on the job, and would soon pick in skills what he lacked in formal qualification to get there. We also made comment on the fact, that the rules now in place although preventing people from being exploited are also ensuring that they don't get employed. One could take someone with no training and no expertise in the old days and teach them skills that would ensure that later down the line they were employable. The humble domestic could advance to a stage where he/she could become a housekeeper after an 'apprenticeship'. Now however with registration and basic wages and all the rigmarole that goes with it, nobody wants to take the chance. There should be ways in which we can give people basic skills without excessive legislation and yet make it so that they will not be exploited. I am sure if you ask those who are unable to obtain jobs whether whey would like to work for minimum wages but receive on the job training, whether they would be happy with this, and I am sure they would prefer this to having days filled with emptiness. It would give them something to work towards. Nobody starts work with no experience and no qualifications as the CEO, yet this is what we are teaching our people to believe they can achieve. So many are failing because they are not given adequate training, in the form of apprenticeships, where a qualified, experienced person shares his knowledge and expertise with those who will eventually take his place. So how do we get around this? As I see it, we should not raise expectations too high. We can't all be university graduates with honours degrees, but we do need people with basic skills, even if it is gardening, or domestic work, or being an appy learning how to be a plumber, motor mechanic or electrician. Let's give these people a chance. All work honestly done, is honourable. We have to adapt to changing needs sure, but we also need to look at cause and effect with circumspection. And the rain is pouring down! The weather changed within hours, and so we should in the search for job creation, always remembering that it may seem different, but it is still the same. I am quite ashamed to say that firstly I have neglected my blog and secondly I gave up on Gemma. If you remember she is the character who was supposed to be running my newest novel. Well, this horrid woman who brought herself to me, then changed her mind and would not play along. She is now sulking in a corner, uncommunicative, and unpleasant. I cannot get her to budge and move forward. After days of wrestling with her and verbally abusing her, I came to the decision that I am leaving her there, belligerent and intractable. In fact she has messed with my mind so that I have not been able to write anything at all for a very long time. This is the first time in my writing career that I have suffered from 'write's block - something that I thought did not exist. Well believe me, it exists, and I have had a very bad case of it. Then too I failed in my challenge to sell a quantity of Hanna's Home. Instead of selling the 20 books I set out to do, I only achieved a 50% pass rate! Not enough. I don't do 50%. I always do much much more. This time I failed hopelessly. Trouble is I don't market very well. I admire those people who can sell ice to Eskimos and sand to the Bedouins. I can't sell and ice-cream to a kid! In fact I probably couldn't even give it away. Nevertheless a recent week of festivities and friendship and good comments have started me thinking that I should not let this Gemma character mess with my mind and that I should start again. I was thrilled when a friend advised that she has purchased my Afrikaans novel "Plek Vol Duiwels" as an ebook and is looking forward to reading it. Another friend said she had passed Hanna's home on to others who had enjoyed it and I had two people tell me that they had enjoyed the Hanna and were waiting for another from me. Well there is another book in the offing called "Dust Devils Dance" which is wedged into the pipeline, a little stuck at the moment, because I need to do my least favourite thing and edit, edit, edit! That's where the rub lies! The editing. But that's what I need to do if I am going to get it out there. So what have I been doing you may ask? I'm almost too embarrassed to admit my inertia. Its akin to attending an alcoholics meeting. I need to stand up and say that I've been a bad girl. So, here I stand in front of you all, saying I have been playing inane bridge games on my computer and ensuring that I win by manipulating the game to my own advantage, and also playing a couple of those silly games that they put there to improve your skills in manipulating the mouse, you know Freecell and Mahong and spider Solitaire. Quite honestly, I've got very very good at winning! Not that that is of much use to anybody. It is all a load of hog-wash. I feel guilty, I know I am procrastinating yet there has been some good come out of all this mindless occupation. What I really have been doing is finding out that the people I know are the most fascinating, interesting, loving and caring people on this planet. And I have been learning that all the friendships made over the years are special - each one has brought me to more people, more incredible lives and made me feel so humble that they are in touch with me. Everyone has a unique and special story to tell. My life is so rich with the fabric of life that is woven into the quilt that I am a part of. I must salute each and everyone of them. . So here I am, and like the alcoholic I shall take one step at a time and from time to time report back on my progress. I hope that next week I shall be able to say that I have made some progress on my editing to be able to work forward from there. Another thing I learned one night when sleep eluded me as I once again went through an incredibly long list of people in need of prayer, that I shouldn't really have time to sleep with this long list. And I stopped asking for things for myself. God knows my needs so for me to yatter on about what I want and think I need was wasting valuable time. He knows my ind, I had to concentrate on the sick, those with other problems, other needs. And what do you know? I fell asleep before I was half way through the list. However do bear with me - and I am not making excuses - but at the end of May I shall be away from my desk enjoying a holiday made possible by my wonderful friends David and Patricia.You know, I have just realised that I should actually write a book on how each and every person contributes to enrich life. Kind words, kind gestures, little acts of kindness all along the way. So I'll close with a photo of my Bella, who knows people so much better than me and who also welcomes everyone into our home with joy and exuberance. Isn't she just a beautiful girl?
Remember: Each and everyone of you is a special being. I have been busy = being a friend, being a wife, being a housewife, being a writer - but too little of the latter. I procrastinate, I put off, I shelve ideas. I started the year wanting to write a page a day, but somehow life interfered, and my new novel's characters weren't very co-operative. Gemma, the main one seemed to vacillate. She, like Stella couldn't find her groove. Oh, yes, she had a story to tell, but she stuttered and stumbled and was so ambivalent, I just couldn't get into her way of thinking. You see she's supposed to be reunited with a long divorced husband in dire straits, a husband who brings back all the terrors of the past, but she just couldn't tell me clearly which way she wanted to go. So here I am just over two months into the project and I've only managed eighteen pages, not nearly enough, that's about a quarter of a page a day or less.
But that's not to say I haven't done other things. Trisa Hugo, my good friend managed to put my Afrikaans book, "Plek van Duiwels" out on ebooks and I was thrilled with the result. That same day I already netted a sale, which made me very happy. And I've been nurturing friendships, finding that I have really got an excellent support network. I am surrounded by people whom I love and who love me. I have reconnected with a long lost school friend and discovered that our lives overlapped a couple of times but we have only now got in touch, thanks to the wonders of modern technology. I have also let go of friendships that are now no longer valid for either of us. But an old and close friendship is still ongoing. It was this particular friendship that has taught me that often blood is thicker than water. David and Patricia have given so much of themselves to us. Only last week David phoned and asked us to once again accompany them on holiday. A number of years ago during a particularly bad period of our lives David and Patricia took us in, when a live in job turned sour and our own home was leased for a year. We lived with them for a year with no problems, no harsh words and remained good friends, even closer than before. Now that is true friendship! We have holidayed together quite a few times and its the sort of friendship where one doesn't have to explain nor apologize. This is so precious to me. Some newer friendships also have a special place in my heart, in fact I will say that the people who I am close to are there through choice, theirs and mine. For a long time I used to chase after people but I have stopped that now. Friendship is a two way street, and we have to give and take to make it work. If there is too much of one or the other and not enough of one from either side, then we need to let it go. Those of you who are in my life, thank you for being there, I love you one and all. But now I think I need to nurture my friendship with Gemma and bring her to her full potential. I almost said 'bring her out' - but that would lead to a whole new story, or is that why she isn't being co-operative? Started to listen to late night news last night and became apoplectic. Although I had heard the earlier version given out by SABC 2 E News made me sit upright and sent my blood pressure soaring.
Despite many many people objecting, signing petitions, getting expert opinion on the subject, and despite the serious damage done to other places overseas where there are major problems as a result of this our Minister of Mineral Affairs, Ms Susan Shabangu has told a world conference on Mining that our delicate Karoo will be subjected to the barbaric practice of Fracking! What are they doing? What are they thinking They are F....... with nature. Once the ecological balance has been disturbed they will never be able to put it back together again. Is our government mad? Are these people intent on destroying earth? Where will we go to once they have killed us all off in their greed? If memory serves me correctly, it seems Shell are behind this move, and it isn't in the interests of providing us with cheap fuel or creating jobs or any of these so called humanitarian deeds, it is pure and simple greed. This glorious landscape is going to be ruined for eternity. I won't ask why they can't see this, because I know they can, but they are closing their eyes to the facts presented to them because of GREED! That is the government, the oil companies like Shell and the people who vote them into power. We have protested, we have done in depth studies (and no, I haven't personally but I know of the people who have done) and yet they persist. Water is a fragile and essential thing for humans and animals and plants alike, yet these monsters think they can mess around with the limited supply that is available in the Karoo. There are reassurances that everything will be put back together again once they are done but we know from past experience that this is not going to happen. What will happen is, once everything has been exploited, they will walk away from it and try to mess up somewhere else. Please, please save us from this insanity. If you have a vote, use it sensibly with thoughts of all the wrongs that are being perpetuated by those in power. Elections are coming up - speak to anybody and everybody. Make them aware. We owe this to our children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. |
AuthorThis is my page to let off steam and to talk about the world, myself, with occasional recipes and so we can get to know each other. Hope I'll have lots of interactions Archives
April 2015
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